Ternary is a story written in three parts—each is a memory of a seminal day in my life—before, during and after Vietnam.   It is the summer of 1968. Port Tuley and I sit in the cab of my 1941 Ford pickup, waiting for the stoplight to change. We’ve just polished off a large sausage and onion at Jenny’s Pizzeria and are eager to join the other hot cars in the Friday night cruise up 16th Street. I rev the engine a couple of times. Torque from the 322 cubic-inch Buick…

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