Dad’s old friend from when Dad worked at a truck stop outside Albany cleaning tractor trailers. Shorty had polio when he was young and was left at an orphanage run by nuns. He had very little good to say about any nun after this experience.
Shorty had a house that was set up with everything at the correct height for him to reach from his wheelchair. As a kid I was fascinated by the house and the way Shorty would get around. Today I always think that house was someplace off Washington Ave Ext. A squat low building more like a shed than a house, in sort of a butternut yellow.