You never know where you are going to find good friends. Maybe it is someone you grew up with or met at school or worked with. Or maybe it was just a guy walking up the street, like Tom Horton. In one of life’s ironies, Tom lived on one of end of our block-long street and I lived on the other, yet we were never in each other’s home. Still, we became good friends and rare was a day that we didn’t talk. Tom walked the neighborhood most every day, a group of one-block cul-de-sacs. No matter where I was headed or how late I was likely to be, I stopped, rolled down the window and we had a chat about any and all kinds of things. Many times, it was about my latest column. (He was always kind in his reviews.) Sometimes, we talked about the football fortunes of his alma mater, Georgia Tech, and of mine at the University of Georgia.