Today was even weirder than usual. I was sitting on the front porch at our ranch this morning, having a cup of coffee and reading one of the oral history interviews that were done in the wake of the Masterson Crisis in 1969. Near the end of the interview, the subject made reference to a letter that I had never heard of before. From his description of the contents I knew that if it still existed, it would shed pretty strong light on some important matters.
Well, I just could not sit still. I had a decent idea of where to look for the letter so I threw my stuff into a bag, got in the car and took off for Houston. I had to talk myself out of a richly deserved speeding ticket in Wallis and I got a nail in my back right tire somewhere along the way. But I eventually straggled in to the Woodson, a little disheveled in ranch clothes and a ball cap. (No one blinked, by the way.)
And I found it! It was buried among some not-especially-interesting mimeographed flyers and college newsletters that were put out by students during the crisis. Now I have to sit and think about it for a while.
So, what am I telling you here? I’m telling you that I’m exhausted and I don’t have anything intelligent to say this evening. So I’m just going to put up an interesting picture that I don’t quite understand. Here it is:
This has to have been taken from East Hall, right? Or Baker Commons? 1915ish.