Chapter 9
For Bill, it was a whirlwind of feelings in the month after his war. His life felt like a tornado, twisting hidden emotions he couldn’t keep apart from the new events around him.
“Boston is breathtaking,” he told his friend, Peter Randolph. “It’s like a magical box. Every time I open the lid, I discover something new. History comes alive when I hike up Bunker Hill, imagining the Revolution.”
“And what about Harvard?”
“Words aren’t sufficient. It’s everything I ever dreamed about after we talked back in the trenches that night.”
“Over two years ago, Bill. I remember that night too. I was more worried than I let on. You helped by listening. All my worries didn’t prepare me for our horror the next day, however.
“I still have flashbacks...” Bill couldn’t finish what he wanted t
