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EVELYN – APRIL 1940
On her way to the pantry to get some flour, Evelyn heard faint strains of music coming from the garage. She needed the flour to get started on the cake she was going to bake for Easter Sunday, but she had a few minutes to spare, so she detoured and went out to the garage, hoping to find the young man she'd met a few weeks ago. When she stepped out, she was pleased to see him sitting on an overturned milk can, guitar resting on his knee. "I heard you singing."
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"It was nice."
"Thank you."
Evelyn didn't know what else to say.
Russell Van Gilder was working with his uncle down the street. His uncle, whom he referred to simply as Hoffman, had a small tool and die shop, and Russell had come to Detroit from West Virginia to learn the trade. He w
