“In late April (1969), with all his affairs partially in order, Grady McMurtry boarded a plane and headed for California. He left a string of bills behind which would come back to haunt him. His flight arrived at the San Francisco Airport on April 29th 1969. Phyllis, being a romantic type most of her life, diligently waited for him at the terminal. She had driven her van all the way from Dublin with her left arm still in a cast. It had been broken earlier in spring and was mending very slowly. Their initial meeting was quite joyous. Over the next few months Grady spent his time settling into to his new surroundings. It was a period characterized by reality checks in regards to how the other really thought and acted.”