Dr. Rapasardi worked for the Palm Beach County Mental Health Department. His office was in a green-shingled WWII vintage bungalow adjacent to the airport. Our sessions were often interrupted by the sound of planes landing and taking off.
“I was in a plane crash once” he told me as a jet passed low over his office.
“Have you flown since?”
“Aren’t you afraid?” There was nothing to suggest fearlessness in his delicate five foot frame.
“No. What are my chances of being in two plane crashes?”
It was at that point I decided Dr. Rapasardi was either crazier than I was or too sane to help me.