In 1968, during my last year in the Army in West Virginia, I had decided to get a part time job off base to raise a little extra money for when I was discharged and headed back home here. I got a job at a Caring Hab. Center, much like the one we had here in Marshall. There were three large buildings, one behind the other with the front one housing the light cases and the rear one -- way back close to the woods -- that housed the most severe cases. I worked at the front building, but was given a tour of the other two. In the last one they had a patient, a fairly young man in his 40s that they said was a sad case. This man was a millionaire and had somehow for whatever reason lost his mind. I, myself, know a person who never got married and saved all the money he could and even investing some of it in the Stock Market. At the moment he really has no idea how much money he has and unfortunately he has developed Alzheimer’s that has and is growing rapidly.