I clearly recall the utter horror on DH’s (then just newly engaged after a special trip to Sardinia) face, as my car broke down as it came off the ferry from Olbia to Civitavecchia (a port of Rome) enroute to da Vinci airport for DS to catch last TWA flight to New York and connection to Norfolk, where he was due to get underway the next day. We had cut it far too close (we were in love!!) and tempted Murphy. It would be a massive professional embarrassment to miss ship’s movement. I negotiated with the auto mechanic to have his brother drive DH to the airport at an Italian rate of speed, forked over $200 in U.S. dollars and a promise of cartons of Marlboros and some U.S. booze. I waved future DH off, who felt terrible about leaving me, but we had to get him to the airport. Thank God it was a workday morning and an early ferry. I called my boss in my Naples office, a very nice man who was a bit worried his LT was all alone in Civitavecchia at some auto repair shop. He put Salvatore, our local logistics employee, on the phone with the auto mechanic, and all was settled in classic Italian style. Salvatore came to rescue me and served as my negotiator with the auto mechanic, brought the additional “deal requirements,” for which I reimbursed him with a generous tip, and I bought pastries to be brought into the garage while they worked. Funny how all that came back to me. The one big thing, though, was DH Could Not Be Late. There might have been good reasons, but no excuse for poor planning that didn’t allow a time cushion.