calling card of a dead man

i was thinking about a ray bradbury book i had never finished reading, and decided to go look for it in the garage. i found it and began to read it again from the beginning. as i made my way through to the point where i had last left off some 20+ years ago, a little business card fell from between two of the pages. i picked it up and studied it. it had a name, address and phone number, but no mention of any business or service. and it took me a minute before i remembered where it had originally come from.
one day those many years ago as i was on the 5 fulton bus, heading from golden gate park to downtown, reading that same ray bradbury book, an older gentleman spotted me reading, and struck up a conversation. he commented on how he seldom saw young people reading anymore, and we talked about books and authors and the city. and then he asked me if i would like to earn a little money, helping him organize some of his own writings. he said he had been working on his memoirs and needed an assistant. being broke and somewhat curious i said i would be willing to help. and that's when he must have handed me this calling card.
on an agreed day and time i showed up to his studio, way out at the end of fulton, a block from the beach. in fact his view of ocean beach was quite enviable. he wasn't quite sure where to start and had me locate various papers and letters for him. and then he began to make dictation, which i was supposed to record. it was slow going, with a lot of stops and read backs, and at one point the old guy snapped at me when i asked what i thought a very innocent question, and after a couple hours i made my excuses, and made my way out of there.
i never did go back or call, and so when i discovered this calling card again i was curious to see if anything ever amounted to the old man's memoirs. i didn't locate anything published by him, but a google search informed me that he had lived quite the interesting life. he had lived in both new york and san francisco, and rubbed elbows with writers, theater folk and even a famous sausalito madam. he was a child during the 1906 earthquake and witnessed the horrors of the aftermath of that tragedy as he made his way through a burning san francisco that grim day. and as i thought about that anniversary today, i thought it worth sharing that i had once crossed paths with this really interesting old guy. perhaps if i had been a little more patient, i might have helped him record his story that remained largely untold.