I have known Jack Suda since early grade school. He was the first Asian person I ever saw, live; and my unknowing kid-brain thought there was something terribly wrong with him, just as it thought the air had been let out of my ninety-year-old great-grandmother’s breasts the first time I saw her. But back to Jack. He was a raconteur before his teens, which seems impossible; he could talk about the most pedestrian thing and infuse it with storytelling magic. Several times I had the privilege of sitting in the afternoon at Glendale High School, waiting for the late bus to come, listening spellbound to Jack spin the tapestry of recent days. And all I can clearly remember of all that talk, forty years later, is the phrase “Coke bottle.”
The photo source of this page is from shots taken at a mini-high-school-reunion a couple of weeks ago. Since we last saw each other Jack has been a bodybuilder and a resort-level chef. His vitality, and his face a little, reminds me of Keye Luke in the classic TV series KUNG FU.