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May 22, 1991
Hey, they’re, Udo!–
Your card arrived from Gettysburg, and instructions have been carried out as requested. The Bee called to ask where you were, and we told them nothing. They threatened to stop delivery and we pleaded with them to carry out the threat. With a cynical laugh the caller sneered that not only would delivery continue, but the paper-boy would be ordered to ring the doorbell and put the paper in our hands. In other words, we have no choice. Is this America? Is this freedom of the press? We are forced to read under compulsion about peo0ple who ‘peddle their bicycles’ or ‘sit threw the performance’ or ‘stair out the window’. This is rank intimidation! Flesh and blood can stand just so much!
Does this Bergletiner know that he’s playing with fire? A nod from you and the whittlers whittle him an effigy, stick pins in it, and he’s turned into a babbling imbecile. Obviously he has no idea that the issue is more than oil and stones or hot patches.
We have had a flurry of family get-together plus friends from out of town. We attended the Sacramento Rail Fair–held every ten years–to view old steam trains and see stepdaughter perform in a musical revue associated with the fair. Two graduations impend, both in Fairfield, about an hour from here. Last week we attended Grandparent’s Day at Country Day School, which all three of stepdaughter’s totties attend. And today we drive Mary’s sister to the airport after a week’s visit.
I have enough strength left to sign and mail this.
Fred C. (“To Bee or not to Bee”) Dobbs