The Persistence of Salinas

I write about my parents, J.R. and Frieda Brick, now both deceased. After retirement, they lived in Santa Cruz, California, and enjoyed travel. In the late 1970s, they traveled with another couple to Turkey. The two couples attended a concert one evening, and were talking about their towns; the other couple was from a different place in California. During the intermission and while still seated, my father mentioned the name "Santa Cruz." Hearing this, a man in the row behind them spoke up, offering that this was a coincidence as he was from Salinas, the next city of size southward from Santa Cruz. Everyone was cordial, but no friendships were established and my parents had no further contact with the man from Salinas. In the late 1980s, my parents were again overseas with another couple. They attended a concert in Paris. During the intermission and while still seated, my father told the other couple about meeting the man from Salinas. As my parents' companions were remaking about the liklihood of this occurring, a voice from behind said "This is true, because I'm the man from Salinas they met." It was the same man, seated behind him as he had been before. My father -- a budget expert and district-level school business administrator -- just loved this.