Flying high with Billy Baskin
At my ripe old age of 55, I never thought I would meet someone and think I’d want to be like them when I grow up. Mr. Billy Baskin was the exception.
After she read the piece I wrote about Robert C. Snyder, Barbara Lipscomb sent me an e-mail suggesting that I interview Billy. “You could write a book about him,” she wrote. She was right. I owe her one.