ABSTRACT
It was December 1953, and I had taken a job as illustrator at Douglas Aircraft Company in El Segundo, California. To be close to work, I moved from my Hollywood apartment to a quaint little studio apartment in Manhattan Beach, two blocks from the ocean. The place was cozy and consisted of one spacious room with a double bed, a large corner window giving a panoramic view of the sea. A small bathroom with a shower stall, toilet, and lavatory, a closet, and a tiny kitchen completed the layout. I had brought along a bookcase, a small table and chairs, and a two-piece sectional couch from my former apartment. It was small, but adequate for my needs, and I liked being close to the beach and my job. I rented a garage across the street for my car.
