"Eleven
strokes on the old clock downstairs signified that it's time to retire. You'll get to know that clock well. Unlike the soft tinkling chimes of the modern
clock, the sound is harsh, brazen & hollow--in the old-fashioned
tradition....
"Goodnight,
Ruth, my honey. It had gotten to be a
habit having you around. I hated more
than ever to leave the campus this time.
Why didn't I concoct some plausible reason for staying there. I might have changed my major to art or
coaching basketball, necessitating some more undergraduate work.
"Love
& Kisses,
"DeVere"
--Letter
from my father, Protection, Kans., to my mother, Winfield, Kans., evening,
Monday, November 10, 1947.
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