Thursday, November 19, 1964
It was getting cold and starting to snow. It was only a few steps from the main building to the Butler Building, but in our blazers it felt like miles. There wasn't much discussion of Dingo Dave anymore, just the surety that he was scum.
In the afternoon, I called over to Eli's office. Trudy answered, put me on hold, and Eli came on the line. That was unusual.
"It took a while," he said, "but I have good news and bad news."
"Bad news first."
"Dave wants nothing to do with you."
"Okay, I probably deserved that. What's the good news?"
"He wants to talk to your son."
"Let's do it,"I said.
I had some logistical work to do. I called the juvenile home, talked to the house mother, and set up a visit between Butch and Dingo Dave on Monday. Then I put on my winter duds and braved the snow and wind on the walk over to the library, where Sarah asked if I would like to spend Friday night at the house. It made sense. The kids were scheduled to go to the ball game, so the less back and forth the better. Besides, the weather promised to be poor. I accepted, figuring I would be on the couch.
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