Ephrata Cloister

Scans made from film negatives of Ephrata ("effretta") Cloister in Pennsylvania. The original negatives date to the summer of 1992. The Sisters House centered here dates back to 1743. 

Meeting House (or Meetinghouse, if you prefer) dating to 1741. The tiny windows, steep roof and length all stand out -- quite medieval in appearance. (Through a "Zeke" filter). 

Stairway to Heaven, Ephrata-style.

The remarkable utopian religious community of Ephrata was created by Germans who arrived via Philadelphia. The Sisters and Brothers lived relatively ascetic lives; the Householders surrounding the core area, on the other hand, could marry and have children, ensuring communal survival. The last cloister member died in 2008. It's an amazing place, very peaceful and serene.  

Letter to an English Landscape Architect, November 12, 1991. Part I

Tuesday, Nov. 12th 1991
Durham, NC

Dear [English Landscape Architect],

The time between my leaving England and writing this now is about ten weeks, which seems at the same time both actual and surreal. 

Working for the AIDSTECH Division of Family Health International as a temporary secretary for three people, one of them the deputy director, another a "Condom Logistics Specialist," and all of whom are women adds to the mixture of actuality & surreality. 

I can appreciate the trials and tribulations of permanent secretaries, without having to become fully embroiled in long-term bureaucratic politics and power relationships. I can leave whenever I like, being a temporary; on the other hand, I've made several friends and I can probably stay through December, and since AIDSTECH is a better place to work than a bank or a for-profit corporation, I'll probably stay. 

Fighting the spread of AIDS, particularly in Africa, the Caribbean, Latin America and Southeast Asia is a good cause, though the attitude occasionally seems at times to dip into patronizing.

Out of eleven secretaries, two of us are men. Stephen F. is an ex-minister who worked in West Virginia until, after a month, he decided he'd had enough. His father is a Swedish Lutheran minister living in New Jersey. Patricia M. is a Classics student, she has a Ph.D in ancient languages, & here she is working as a secretary! Several people are working between "here & there," deciding what to do next, or like me, about to move on.

I'll be moving in early January to Philadelphia, and will set off in a couple of weeks for an exploratory visit. My history program begins on January 20, 1992. Living in London has prepared me well.

I really enjoyed spending the summer in greater London, both in Clapham and downtown. 

London is perhaps fifty times larger than Durham, North Carolina. The entire metro area here, the Research Triangle -- including Chapel Hill & the University of N.C.; Durham & Duke Univ. & N.C. Central University; and the state capital of Raleigh & N.C. State University -- may have 600,000 or 700,000, which is still only about one-tenth of London's population.

At the same time, this area has seen an increase in crime. In the last year, there's been a 45% rise (according to statistics-driven social scientists) in violent crime, with more murders than in all of London during the same time span. 

This is a more openly violent, and certainly more gun-toting country than England; we're a nation under arms. Some guy in Texas, just a few weeks ago, drove his truck into a cafeteria and gunned down 27 people; and not long after that, a Chinese Ph.D student in physics shot seven people at the University of Iowa.

I'm looking forward to Oliver Stone's new movie about the Kennedy assassination, because of its commentary and apparent indictment of violence in the U.S.  

I'm not sure how we'll get out of this mentality, but we should start with sensible gun control and improved humanist education. Whatever, it will take a long time.        

[End Part I.]

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, March 26, 1992

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's another one of them, from when I lived on Spruce Street. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]       

                                    Philadelphia, Pa.

                                    Thursday, March 26^th 1992

Dear Wallace,

I don’t know who’s been busier, me taking classes, or you teaching them, & giving lectures. However, Arthur Rimbaud & Jim Morrison always remain in mind, & where they are involved, I always have extra time & energy. So let me assure you, I’d love to be a reader for you, whatever you desire! 

There is a spectacular book store here, Borders Bookshop, which is two stories high & always full of people, It’s a good place to browse & keep up with literature & criticism.

A few weeks ago, I picked up an excellent history of the Punk Rock movement, England’s Dreaming: Anarchy, Sex Pistols, Punk Rock and Beyond by Jon Savage (St. Martin’s Press, 1992), which provides additional evidence of Rimbaud’s & other French poets’ influence on rock and punk artists. In addition to translated quotations of Rimbaud, there is for instance the specific example of the band Television, an early band influence at the outbreak of Punk in the mid-1970s.

Richard Meyers and Tom Miller dropped out of school in Virginia, went to New York, and took the names Richard Hell and Tom Verlaine.  They opted for rock because, Hell says, “all the people whose work I was interested in, the self-conscious, twisted aestheticism of the French 19^th century, were not the popular ground for the writing of the time.” (p. 88) They picked elements of fashion as well, which inspired the New York punk scene, which in turn influenced English groups.

I hope you’re fully recovered from your cold. Many people in class are ill, too. Only today did we have a first feel of fresh spring air. The city is a fascinating place for graduate study, but it’s hardly a health spa. . .

Most of my reading of late has been devoted to class-related studies, primarily on European & U.S. 19^th century histories of the aristocracy and officer corps. The latter group is as far from the work of individual poets as one can imagine, and yet it’s still interesting by the very outrageous contrast. I recall Proust’s comments on his military service through the thoughts of Marcel, which in turn reminds me of E. A. Poe’s bittersweet experiences in the Army and at West Point. (Poe lived here for a time; I have yet to visit his house, now a museum, up on Spring Garden).

Then there is Appollinaire [Guillaume Apollinaire], and his strange acceptance of fighting in the Great War. My feelings at the time might have been closer to the Dadaists in Zurich, or even to the wild ravings of Céline and Hasek. [Louis-Ferdinand Céline and Jaroslav Hašek]. The war seems completely insane from the vantage point of 1992. But then, we’ve in many ways, as a society, hardly moved beyond it. The world is still quite full of nationalistic madness.

Still no word on The Doors Complete? Since JFK, there hasn’t been much more comment on The Doors, which is strange really. Critics and indeed many of today’s youth have negative feelings about it because of the drugs & drug use shown. Today’s youth seems to be fixated more on Government-approved cigarettes and alcohol, and yet it was clearly alcohol that did Morrison in, both artistically and physically. That was part of Stone’s mytho-biography as well, for those who wishes to see it. The film was hardly a glorification of drug use.

Most of my friends, including my sisters, found the film inspiring of the artistic process, an expressionistic rendering of Morrison’s losing struggle with the destructive as well as creative forces in his being. He succumbed to flesh & blood weaknesses. But his struggle was not a meaningless one. He, if not as forcefully and heroically as Rimbaud, did share some of Rimbaud’s artistic imperative.

Why indeed hasn’t someone made a mytho-biography of Rimbaud? Perhaps that’s coming in the wake of his centenary. But such a film would have to be miraculously innovative, in order to get at Rimbaud’s poetics. Maybe Werner Herzog could begin such a work, a fractured first look inspired by the poetry alone, not a soap opera of his relationship with Verlaine. Someone should try. Your Rimbaud-Morrison work may inspire someone to try it. Think of that, next time you look out at an audience like the one at Charlottesville. Certainly, if the recent films inspired by W. S. Burroughs and Kafka can be made, a Rimbaud film can at least be attempted.

Well, Wallace, I hope all is well with you & that the semester is proceeding as hoped. Mine is already lurching into its final stretch, & I will be finished in early May. I may come down to North Carolina for a short while. But will spend most of the summer here. I’ll let you know. Let me know if you want me to read your Morrison segment. I look forward to the possibility with great excitement!

Take good care of yourself.

                                                      As Ever

                                                           Erik

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, July 4, 1992

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's one of them, from when I lived on Spruce Street. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

                                  July 4th 1992
                                   Philadelphia

Dear Wallace,

It has been a long time since I've heard from you, and I hope all's well with you. I will call you after sending this letter to make sure you are all right.

My first semester in the Ph.D program went very well. I have only to write one paper this summer, and am working here through temporary agencies through August at least. The fall semester doesn't begin until September.  

With about ten other people, I am working as a general and music editor for a new magazine called Quo Moto [Quo Modo] Quarterly. The first issue is scheduled to come out in the fall. I'm writing an article about the Ephrata Cloister in Ephrata, Pennsylvania.  I am also working on a short story. I should finish both of these this summer.

[Deleted paragraph].

If you can, please let me know how you are, how your spring semester went, and what your plans are. I am anxious to hear from you!

                                                     As Ever,
                                                         Erik

P.S. I'm listening to Édith Piaf  

Philadelphia: 1992

[Diary excerpt.]  

This entry -- Free Library of Philadelphia, Saturday, January 11th, 1992.

I'm writing from the grand Free Library, which has the look & feel of a cavernous Carnegie structure, like a Duke East Campus library made bigger. I will be able to check books out as soon as I get a Temple ID, which will be when the checks I ordered come from the bank . . .

So far much time has been spent taking care of business, connecting phone line, electricity, rent, signing up for classes, building up food supplies, etc. 

I like it here so far. Except for right around Center City's heart, Philadelphia is not a bustling city. It has been cold, but what's struck me most are the number of people living on the street. There are the ubiquitous mentally ill roaming around & muttering, but there are also a lot of apparently otherwise healthy people, strung along every block. It is depressing because it is cold and often wet. I am faced with a moral dilemma every time I walk by someone asking for change. I have to make a quick judgment based on intuition & my own disposition, whether to give a few spare coins. It's not a sweeping moral philosophy at work, but a one at a time provisional choice, a little moral choice to be made constantly. Whet impresses me also is the steam rising from the gutter grills at night, the shadows reflected by buildings & people & colored lights. Many people sleep right on top of the grills to warm up by steam/ It is a Dickensian, even medieval or Biblical sight, the number of poor beggars.

I am quickly getting to know Center City simply by walking a lot. I found an organic store with the Velvet Underground in the background, much smaller than one such as Well Spring in North Carolina; and a corner grocery run by Cambodians, very friendly people, on Carmac and Spruce, right across the street.

The Temple Center City Campus has nightly movies, $1.50 for Temple students, at the very long-running "Cinematheque." I saw two excellent films, She Must Be Seeing Things (1987, Director Sheila McLaughlin) and Lina Wertmüller's All Screwed Up (1974-1976).  The McLaughlin film [is] about two women lovers & their relationship through jealous times, balancing having & being (in a Frommian lens); low budget but imaginative. All Screwed Up is, not surpisingly, akin to Fellini, touching on many bases without clearly resolving the main plot lines.

I have no TV now, so will be seeing a lot of films at the Cinematheque.

So far I am slowly recovering from the New Year flu or whatever it was. My only mishap since has been to burn my hand on a hot pot handle. 

Notes: Spring Recess will be March 6th through 15th.

Book reading: Roadside America, with a promise for a "powerful novena of childlike confidence," whatever that means. . . 

Thomas Eskridge Steptoe to Sarah "Sally" Tate Steptoe Massie, December 3, 1821

[Thomas Eskridge Steptoe at Philadelphia to Sarah "Sally" Tate Steptoe Massie, at [Pharsalia], Rose Mills, Virginia, December 3, 1821. Massie Family Papers, Virginia Historical Society. This is my rough, annotated transcription from a copy graciously provided by William Myers. Extra paragraph breaks inserted for easier reading.] 

Dear Sally

I will now devote a few leisure moments to write the first letter of our intended correspondence, from which I anticipate a good deal of pleasure.

I have been here now a month and have not heard a syllable from home. You can easily conceive without my expressing, the anxiety I must feel to hear from you all, situated as I am at this distance from you. I hope you will give me no reason to complain, and as I have now broken the ice, you will use no ceremony in writing as often as your inclination may prompt: and if you do not I know it will be for the want of this, for it can’t be for the want of time or anything else.

Lucy and Frances promised to be very attentive correspondents, but as yet I have not the scratch of a pen from either of them. I mean to write them both to day a letter full of complaint & abuse.

I often think about Papa and his lonely situation; but I hope Mr. Johnston has sent James down to stay with him before now. The recollection of his inform state of health is often a source of unhappiness to me.

I am very much pleased with this place as yet the weather has been unusually pleasant, but it is now snowing, and I suppose the winter has set in for good earnest.

The house I am boarding at is a very genteel one, and all the boarders, of whom there are eleven, are Virginians, and very respectable young men; several of them are from your co[un]ty.

One advantage which this circumstance affords is that our old land-lady knowing our fondness for ham and cornbread spares no pains to have them for us. These are articles very rarely to be seen on the table here.

I hope you did not injure your health when you were in Bedford, by attending old Mrs. Walker’s dinners or any body’s else.  You remember I left you enjoying the round of . . . entertainments when I left home, and knowing your failing on such occasions I could not help expressing my friendly wish about your health.

Remember me to Mr. Massie and little Tom, and believe me to be your aff[ec]t[ionat]e Brother

                              Th. Steptoe

                                                       

[Sally = Sarah “Sally” Tate Steptoe Massie (1796-1828) was married to William Massie (1795-1862) and was the daughter of James Steptoe, Jr. (1750-1826). There is a massive Massie collection at the University of Texas here.

Th. Steptoe = Thomas Eskridge Steptoe (1799-1880)

Lucy = Lucinda “Lucy” Steptoe Penn (1795-1878), who married Robert Cowan Penn (1789-1854) in 1814.

Frances =  Frances Callaway Steptoe Langhorne (1798-1832) married Henry Scarsbrook Langhorne (1790-1854) on March 13, 1816.

Papa = James Steptoe ((1750-1826), residing at Federal Hill.

Mr. Johnston = Charles Johnston (1769-1833).

James = James Callaway Steptoe (December 10, 1781-October 24, 1827), married to Catherine Mitchell Steptoe (1780-1858); they had at least two children: Frances Callaway Steptoe (1810-1880) and Edward Dillon Steptoe (1811-1854). James served for a time as Clerk of Bedford County, in which capacity he mentored his nephew Robert Crump Mitchell (1807-1872). Or, possibly, James Steptoe Johnston (1808-1895).

Mrs. Walker = in Bedford County, Virginia.

Little Tom = Thomas James Massie (1817-1877).]

[Many thanks to Sue Davis, William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]

                                                   

Edward William Johnston to Thomas Willis White, August 29, 1842

[Edward William Johnston at Washington City to Thomas Willis White [at Richmond, Virginia], August 29, 1842. Container 9.7, Edgar Allan Poe Collection, The University of Texas at Austin, Harry Ransom Center. Note that in the original, Johnston's text frequently employs the old-fashioned "long s" -- i.e., when the letter "s" is doubled up in a word, the first "s" looks more like a lower case "f."]

Notes:

Johnston informs "My dear White" that he received White's letter and the enclosed $20 that morning. The money was probably for one of Edward's articles, either an anonymous piece or one signed "E.W.J."

Here is the main probability:

"Genealogy of Ideas," Southern Literary Messenger; Devoted to Every Department of Literature and the Fine Arts. Volume VIII, Number 9 (September 1842), pages 548-555. Richmond, Virginia: T. W. White. Link here.  He may have had something to do with this article, too: "NAPOLEON, WELLINGTON, &C.," translated from a French feuilleton, pages 593-599.

And here is a later publication also signed "E.W.J.:"

"The Politics and History of the Dance," Southern Literary Messenger; Devoted to Every Department of Literature and the Fine Arts. Volume XII, Number 7 (July 1846), pages 401-409. Link here.

In the letter, Johnston notes that he will prepare a sequel, though he is also engaged in "[s]peech writing." 

He intends to go to Philadelphia on the evening of August 31, 1842, spend "about a week there: "I shall employ my vacant hours finishing the 'Genealogy.'

He then offers his critique of other articles in the Number 9 (September 1842) issue, of which he presumably had a galley copy. 

The College of William &  Mary's professor Charles Minnigerode's "The Greek Dramatists" might make sense to Germans, but "to English people, such things are utterly unintelligible."

John Robert's play in five acts, "Riego; or, the Spanish Martyr" "is balderdash."

"Extracts from the Journal of an American Naval Officer," Johnston opines, "has merit."

Also acceptable, Philip St. George Cocke's "Scenes and Adventures in the Army."

As for Jane Tayloe Lomax's "Moonlight on the Grave," she is "more poetical in prose than in verse."

"The Critic," a sonnet attributed to Lord Byron was not so, but rather "perhaps" composed by Francis "Frank" Scott Key.  

"You Scotch poet is much the best in the No."

"I always criticize, thanks or no thanks."

"In haste yours
Ed. W. Johnston"

[Many thanks to Natalie Zelt, American Studies -- who in June 2014 was Public Services Intern at the Harry Ransom Center -- for assisting in scanning and processing the original letter at that time.]

[Thomas Willis White (1788-1843), founding editor and publisher of The Southern Literary Messenger, which began publication in 1834.

Edward William Johnston (1799-1867)

[Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Sue Davis for their ongoing research collaboration.]

Listing for Charles Johnston's 'Narrative' (June 21, 1827)

[Philadelphia National Gazette and Literary Register (June 21, 1827), page 3.]

JOHNSTON'S NARRATIVE.

JUST received for sale by CAREY, LEA & CAREY, A Narrative of the Incidents attending the capture, detention and ransom of Charles Johnston, of Botetourt County, Virginia, who was made prisoner by the Indians on the river Ohio, in the Year 1790, together with an interesting account of the fate of his companions, five in number, one of whom suffered at the stake; to which are added Sketches of Indian Character and Manners, with Illustrative Anecdotes.

Also, "Our Chronicle of '26," a Satirical Poem.

june 10-J3t

[Charles Johnston (1769-1833)

CAREY, LEA & CAREY = Matthew Carey (1760-1839), Isaac Lea (1792-1886) -- who was married to Frances Ann Carey Lea (1799-1873), the former's daughter -- and Henry Charles Carey (1793-1879), Ann's brother.]

[Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Susan Davis for their ongoing research collaboration.]   

John Peter Mettauer to John Warfield Johnston, March 4, 1814

[John Peter Mettauer at Prince Edward, Virginia, to John Warfield Johnston at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, March 4, 1814,  Box 1, John Warfield Johnston Papers, 1778-1890, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. This is my rough transcription. Ellipses denote tears in paper or indecipherable words.]

Prince Edward
March 4th 1814

Dear Johnston,

I have enclosed you the letter that I spoke [of] in my last to you; be good enough to deliver it if possible if not lodge it in the post office with direction on the back if not applied for in 20 days to be sent back to P. E. [Prince Edward] on . . . if you . . . the family if they are in town if . . . heard of probably it would be . . . the letter. I fear the old man is dead indeed I have heard so, if so it is probable the children have left Philad'a make necessary enquiries my dear friend & if possible continue the letter to Charlotte.

I suppose you are M. D. by this time if so I heartily congratulate you on the occasion. [N]othing new since my last except Tom Allen's wedding he was married last Wednesday to a sister of Henry N. Watkins.

I remain your friend
J.P. Mettauer

[Dr. John Peter Mettauer (1787-1875), A. B. Hampden-Sydney 1806 and University of Pennsylvania Medical School 1809. Dr. George Ben Johnston (1853-1916) later gave an address about him. Buried with his high hat on.
Dr. John Warfield Johnston (December 14, 1790-December 10, 1818)
Tom Allen = Dr. Thomas Allen (1789-1850) married Ann Venable Watkins (1792-1830) on February 23, 1814; their son Henry Watkins Allen (1820-1866) became a Confederate brigadier general and wartime Governor of Louisiana before dying in Mexico.
Henry N. Watkins (1787-1850)]

For their help and assistance, many thanks to the staff of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. For more information about the John Warfield Johnston Papers, here's a link to the guide.     

[Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]

Nella Fontaine Binckley at Casanella: The Word from Philadelphia, 1911

California State Library authority card filled out and mailed in 1911 by Nella Fontaine Binckley, the artist formerly known as Ellen Binckley and Nellie F. Binckley. 

Name in full: Nella Fontaine Binckley. 
Place of birth: Washington, D.C.
Date: Too remote to mention.
Father: John Milton Binckley.
Mother: Mary Louisa Michel.
If married, to whom? No -- spinster.
Years spent in California: From 1890 to 1900.
Residences in State: San Francisco, Santa Rosa, Santa Barbara.
Present address: "Casanella," 525 Locust Ave., Germantown, Philadelphia, Pa. 

[This address is about a block away from the Shrine of the Miraculous Medal].

[Ellen/Nellie/Nella Fontaine Binckley (September 1, 1860- April 27, 1951; she was not born in 1877 as she successfully hoaxed some time after returning from the West Coast to the East Coast in 1900 -- even here, in 1911, she mischievously claims her date of birth as "too remote to mention."] 

Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration. 

From Les Cayes and Fond de Île-à-Vache to Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York City

By 1805, Joséphine Labarrière had evacuated her three children from Les Cayes and Fond de Île-à-Vache (an offshore island of Saint-Domingue), under orders of General Jean-Louis Ferrand (1758-1808), Gouverneur de Saint-Domingue, during the uprisings and revolution. Ferrand remained behind to fight; he eventually committed suicide rather than be captured, though in death he was decapitated and his head placed on a pike. I haven't been able to determine what happened to Paul Valentin Costar, but he seems to have died by 1805, possibly from yellow fever. He was apparently in Philadelphia at the time of the yellow fever epidemic of 1793, which involved a large number of refugees from Saint-Domingue's "troubles." Other members of the Costar family also resided at or near Les Cayes and perhaps elsewhere on Saint-Domingue. Known names include Louis Séverin Costar, a military officer, and Marie Félicité Jeanne Isabelle de Costar. See Généalogie et Histoire de la Caraïbe numéro 141: Octobre 2001, p. 3310. 

As of September 9, 1805, Joséphine Labarrière Costar was living in Baltimore with her children. Presumably she married Jerome De Cressac Villagrand sometime between about 1812 and 1815, by which time they lived in New York City. 

Joséphine Labarrière / Josephine La Barriere (ca. 1776-6 April 1858)

1. Dr. Paul Valentine (Valentin) Costar / Costard / Costari (d. ca. 1804)

a. Henry Benjamin Costar (January 3, 1795-Feb 6, 1848) = Aleda G.

Children: 

Lucien Costar (d. July 10, 1865)* 

Athalide Costar = Leger (husband, deceased before 1858)

Henry R. [or P.] Costar (d. Mar 10, 1857) = wife

Children:

Julia Estelle Costar (d. 9 Nov 1890)

Maria Athalide Costar (d. Sept. 12, 1888)

Henrietta J. Costar (d. 2 June 1883)

John Costar (guardian of the above) 

b. Antoine Marie / Anthony M. Costar (d. 15 January 1859)

c. Marie Antoinette Estelle Costar = Edward William Johnston

  

2. Jerome De Cressac Villagrand (1769-1845)

*"COSTAR. -- On Friday, July 7, LUCIEN J., son of Aleda G. and the late Henry Costar, aged 38 years. The relatives and friends of the family are invited to attend the funeral, at St. Ann's Church, 8th-st., on Monday morning, at 9 1/2 o'clock." NY Times, July 10, 1865. Link here.

Letter from Wallace Fowlie, Thanksgiving 1993

Letter from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) at Chapel Hill to Erik France at Powelton Village, Philadelphia, Thanksgiving (November 25), 1993. 

Dear Erik,

Never would I think of judging you harshly on what has happened. As you present them, . . . and your . . . make you appear a lucky man. 1992 must have been a hard year for you. You deserve your present happiness which will continue. I congratulate you and send you and . . . my love and blessings.

After all those sections of writing and research skills at Temple, your present T.A. teaching in U.S. history, and grading exams in an American Studies class must be more to your liking. 

The Doors Complete was never published. Thanks to that, Frank Lisciandro has helped us get some pictures of J.M. for the book.

Since I did not teach this present semester, I have done a bit more work with my other profession which I may never have mentioned to you. I am a "lay psychiatrist" from Mass. General Hospital in Boston. Worked there 3 years (when I taught at Bennington). Then for two winters in Paris. I worked with Otto Rank. He began giving me a few Catholic patients (Since he makes nothing out of "that stuff"[)]. And here in N.C., it has continued. I work for 3 doctors, 2 in Durham and 1 in Chapel Hill, who send me (when I have  time) Catholic patients. I have right now 2 hard cases: a student (boy) from Duke and a girl from UNC . . . (Rank gave me one similar case in Paris) . . .

My health is good -- and if it continues, I will give my Dante course in January: both sections are filled (130 students.) I look forward to it. 

Your letter was dated a few days after my 85th birthday (Nov. 8)-- a big day  in my life. Brenda Brodie had me for lunch with 3 good friends of hers and mine. The evening was a meeting (banquet) of the Duke Catholic Community: 250 students, faculty, and administrators. Coach K was to be the after-dinner speaker. I had always wanted to meet him and tell him the good work two of his players did in my classes (Mark Crow and Mark Alarie.) I saw him at the entrance of the dining room. I shook hands with him, as he said, "Wallace, I know all about you from my players." We had a good chat. At dessert time,a waiter carried to my table a huge cake: "To Wallace on his  85th" -- and they all sang "Happy Birthday." I had to cut 150 small pieces of cake for the other tables. Mike K's speech was the best I have heard at Duke: witty, highly spirited -- at the end he spoke of a few professors who were present, and then, pointing at me, said "And that man publishes a new book every year!" (not accurate!) Erik, excuse this egoism. Let's keep in better touch.

love,
Wallace