By Scott Collins / The Bulletin
February 8, 2010
LOS ANGELES — At 52, Ross Mandell is built like an aging wrestler, with veins the size of phone cords webbed across Popeye-like forearms. But when he recalls what happened last summer, the macho exterior melts away.
“I cried like a baby. I curled up in a fetal position in my bed, and I wanted my....