CHAPTER 22On the 21st of April, 1915, I celebrated my birthday back in Richmond. After spending two days getting caught up with sleep in my own bed, I went to the AP office hoping to find David Lawrence. He wasn’t there, but they phoned the DC office and let me talk to him.
“Great to hear your voice, Jeremiah,” he said. “I was overjoyed when I heard you hadn’t been killed, that it had all been a big mix up.”
“I guess I didn’t know that you had been notified.”
“Oh yes. Richard phoned me, since I had recommended you. I knew you didn’t have any immediate family, so the only other person I told was your old editor, William Archer. I’ve never gotten back to him though. You should go by and let him see the good news himself.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get any good stories to you.”
