My Aunt Avis's younger sister Katrina was still living with her parents in Highland Park, a Los Angeles suburb. Katrina was a beautiful young girl with long blond hair and blue eyes. I had been at her house one time when a Peeping Tom peered into Katrina's bedroom window, scaring both of us. Katrina was slightly older than myself, and the only child still living at home. Katrina had been a change of life baby and was the same age as Michael, my Aunt Avis's eldest son.
The County of Los Angeles had a superior mass transit system during and after World War II. The Red Cars, as they were commonly called, would get you most anywhere in Los Angeles County. However, in the fifties, there popularity was in decline. The automobile had upstaged the Red Car, and they were being used less and less.
One afternoon Katrina decided she wanted to make some Taffy. She had made it before and decided to make it again. She walked to the store to buy the ingredients to make the Taffy. She had to cross a street with the Red Car tracks running down the center of the street. Somehow, when crossing the tracks, she tripped on them and fell, knocking herself out.
It was dusk and the sun was glaring toward the Red Car. The Red Car Operator would later say he saw a lump on the track, but he thought it was some trash. The Red Car Operator did not stop the train. The Red Car ran over Katrina, killing her instantly.
Katrina's family was heartbroken. Her parents did not live long after Katrina's death. Not too long after that, the Red Car tracks began to be removed. The Red Car was becoming obsolete.