How luck, television, and a saintly lurker on the Internet combined to let the author visit 1953 for half an hour.
“ And now let’s see what the panel can do with another challenger. Would you sign in please, sir? ”
A grainy black-and-white kinescope flickers on our television screen. A close-up on a chalkboard. A hand—the right—holds a thick piece of white chalk. It begins to write in a sure, round style that I have never seen before. A voice off-screen reads:
“ Marshall . . .”
The hand drops down a line and continues to write.
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