While the others were riding, I spent that time in the infirmary with the nurse with the official designation `under observation.' Despite Aunt Georgia's admonition about not leaving a written record, I often sent letters to Aunt Tillie. I always felt confident Aunt Tillie would not share my secrets and adolescent idiocies. I was also pretty sure none of my letters, outgoing or incoming, were steamed open to reveal their contents.
Dear Aunt Tillie:
As you probably know, I am at the wrong camp. I am not at Camp Emma Goldman. I am at Camp Sunshine. It is filled with very rich kids. Some are from important families, they tell me. “Prominent” is what they call it. They tell me prominent is good. It seems that stupid and lazy children from these prominent families are “set for life.” Another
