From then on, he kept his wallet in a locker. When he started driving a bread truck—which he did for 40 years—he put it in a buttoned pocket.

He later worked part time at the auto auction and enjoyed meeting new people—and reconnecting with those he grew up with.

Williams has spent his life in the Fredericksburg area, and his memory hasn’t suffered with age. He knows names and places, what used to be in which buildings, and who’s no longer among the living.

That leads to a story about nine men who worked at the auto auction and breakfasted together every Saturday.

“Now there’s three of us,” he said.

‘BOY, WAS I WRONG’

In her letter to Williams, Smith told him that she and her husband moved into an old house, built in 1952 and full of character, three years ago. It’s in Reidsville, N.C., about 25 miles north of Greensboro.

Each spring, a couple of rats get caught in the ceiling of the pantry, which is above a bathroom in the basement.

On April 20, the Smiths heard some scurrying. He moved a ceiling tile, stuck his head in the hole and saw two rats in front of him and something stuck in the rafters behind him.