A big burly guy

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When we moved to Davis in 1968, my parents told us we would be renting a house until the one we were buying was finished being built. For some reason I thought the owner of the house we rented would also be living there. I pictured a big burly guy with a thick dark mustache, and imagined running into him in the hall at night when it was dark, and he wouldn't smile, and I would feel scared, and think that he didn't want us in his house.

I was not happy about it.