Oxnard—For me, April has a mix of both good and bad memories. I start with the bad.
ON April 8, 1989, I was diagnosed with type one diabetes. I’m repeating myself, But if it weren’t for my beautiful Mother, Dolores Frost, I wouldn’t be here today.
If you weren’t reading what my beautiful Mother told me —that life isn’t fair —I have a strong soul and two little sons.
I was ready to give up but didn’t because of my sons. They told me I’d last about 25 years. I was 36 years old, and I’m still here.
This all happened on April 8, 1989.
Woody was a character.
There was some good, as my Dad, Ward Frost Junior, was born on this day in 1926. The headline bears his signature, as he signed on report cards and in many other places.
He had all the ingredients; he was great-looking, fought in World War II, and was good at tennis.
Good old Woody spoke his mind and didn’t care what anybody thought. The J train tells me I’m the same way, but that concept makes everybody angry.
Woody stood up one night at dinner when my younger brother Brian…
