(7/11) “Bobby Love arrived in New York in late November, 1977.  I was glad to be free, but I was still in a tough spot.  I had to build a life from scratch.  All I had was $100 in small bills, a single pair of clothes, and a brand new name.  I moved into a fleabag hotel, and for two weeks I survived on hotdogs and marijuana.  Then my money ran out and I started sleeping on the trains.  I had to figure out a way to get a foothold in life.  I wasn’t even a person.  I had no papers, no ID, no nothing.  Believe it or not, the first thing I got was a social security number.  I walked up to the window and told the lady a story about losing everything, and she gave me a card.  On the spot.  I still have it today.  Next I got hold of an original birth certificate, scratched out the name, and typed ‘Bobby Love’ on the line.  Then I took it to a print shop and copied it so many times that it didn’t look fake anymore.  It didn’t take me long to find a brother at the funeral home who agreed to notarize it.  He wouldn’t sign it, but he’d stamp it.  And that was enough for me, because I found a brother at the DMV who pretended not to notice.  And that’s how I got my drivers license.  Then I used all my new papers to get a job working in the cafeteria of the Baptist Medical Center.  And that’s where I met Cheryl.”