Chapter 6 - Ricky, Don't Lose That Number

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Rick Ciccone stared at his computer screen. He had logged on to the newspaper archive website that Sam, John Daly's rodman, recommended. He had just typed the name Thomas Clifford into their search engine, along with a range of dates, JANUARY 1989 TO DECEMBER 1989. His heart pounded. He was reluctant to hit ENTER on his keyboard. Why was he so tentative? What was he afraid he'd find? He took a breath and hit ENTER. The results quickly appeared. There were plenty - Tommy's obituary; newspaper articles on his accident; an In Memoriam from family members; an editorial from a family friend.

Rick leaned forward in his chair. He started with the articles on the accident. The first was from the local paper:

Newspaper article of Tommy's accident

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Newspaper article of Tommy's accident.

"Five forty AM...What was he doing on the road at that time of day? Mile marker 54.9. I've driven past there how many times?" He shook his head, continued reading. "Truck drifted into the shoulder...killed instantly...1987 Lenape...Junior at Rutgers...economics...two sisters."

He clicked on another article, this one from the Rutgers University newspaper.

He clicked on another article, this one from the Rutgers University newspaper

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Rutgers newspaper article on Tommy's death.

"Ambitious and friendly," Rick read. "Not a bad bone in his body...liked people...gentle person. That was Tommy. Wow...they talk about his friends' accident."

Rick clicked on the obituary. "Center of the page. Exactly where I remember it. Burial at Calvary. How many times have I driven past there?" He read further. "I know that funeral home." The funeral home was a couple of miles from a survey Rick did with Rich Collins near a Lockheed Martin facility back in the spring of 1987.

Rick clicked on the In Memoriam. He read, "I love you today on your 21st birthday...Aunt Dee...you shared your joys and humor with a coy smile and uttered 'I'll see you in a while', Grandmom. Our hearts our broken, how we miss your kind and gentle ways, Aunt Lynn and Uncle Jim...It's only been six weeks and we miss your gentle charm and your smiling Irish eyes...Mom, Dad, Lisa, Tara."

"

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