Once upon a time there lived in Inglewood, Calif, an earnest young man wallet-deep in difficulties. The young man had lost his $140-a-week welder's job, his wife had been ill and he owed hospital bills. Mortgage payments were due on the $9,300 house he had bought three months earlier, and the bank was prepared to foreclose. Then up popped the young man's fairy godmother in the bureaucratic guise of the California Division of Highways. Negotiators informed him that the San Diego Freeway was headed through his living room. Twenty days before the...
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