This isn't a "small world" experience of the kind I've reported in the past, but it's interesting.   A man I ate dinner with this evening was one of the first two residents here at Primrose.   His wife was the other one.   She still lives here, but wasn't at dinner.    I can't imagine what it would be like to be the first two.   He said they ate out a lot until it made sense to have dining room service.    He is a WWII veteran, was a rifleman in Germany, was captured and was a POW.    He said one of the German officers wanted to kill him and the others captured, but another more senior one wouldn't permit it.   I didn't pursue the subject with him, but I wonder what it's like to owe your life to an enemy who wouldn't have hesitated to kill you in combat, spared it after you were captured.