In the fall of 1968 I had just begun my Senior year of high school in Tampa, Florida. One of my friends who had graduated the past June was in basic training with the U.S.M.C. when he received word that his older brother had been killed in Viet Nam (he also was a Marine). When my friend was sent home to help his mother make burial arrangements I went to see him and one of the things they needed to do was sell his deceased brother's car. Even though I had a car, I bought the TR-4 both to help them out but also because I had always admired it. Whenever I drove the TR-4 it reminded me of my friend and his brother. My friend eventually was sent to Viet Nam and returned safely. Many years later I visited the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington D.C. and found my friend's brother's name on the Wall.