' 'Who was it?' 'Not my case, man. While I was mulling it over, my friend David Edwards, who was working for Citibank, called and asked us to go to Haiti with him. There was no chair but there was a small shelf with an ashtray and a Kleenex box on it. His younger brother, Glenn Blythe, was the constable of Irving, a suburb of Dallas.
The circumstances were bizarre, but I sat glued to the TV for hours, taking time out to go to a few places and eat with Jeff. Visitors to the college who never read his poetry can tell, just by gazing on his graceful death pose, why he had such a hold on the young people of his time. Fors and his friends would make such an effort to learn the fate of his son and several others who were missing in action. If he has tapes, I doubt he'd part with them.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.