Dear Eve,

Joseph here, writing from Baton Rouge where we've been living since mid-July. It's hard to ask, "are you well?" But are you? Needless to say, it was quite surreal observing the carnage from a distance, not being able to do anything other than donating money and blood. It reminded me of something your dad said to me once when we were, I guess, in the process of developing a relationship. He described the three phases of a man's life: first the novice who learns his craft; second the warrior who takes that knowledge and, essentially, kicks ass; third the echo man who stands back and answers questions, the knowledgeable seer. He (your dad) clearly was struggling with his having attained the echo man stage. Then he looked at me with a sly grin and said, "don't worry, Joseph, you're still a warrior." This week memories of military service came back and I wished I could once again take on the warrior's role. On the other hand, I don't ever want to be in that position again. Conflicting feelings...

Take care. And hang in.

Best,

Joseph [Franklin]