Then she remembered why. At the end of last semester her professor had announced he was retiring. Her professor had been a sweet, white haired old man... who had a fondness for Irish whiskey and fine Cuban cigars. She was sad to remember him gone and was anxious to meet the new professor. As she took her seat in the lecture hall she, and the other students present, wondered at the delay in the appearance of their mysterious professor. She heard a couple of freshmen in the seats behind her. I certainly feel no need to glorify any of that past."You have to do this," Liz informed me in a subsequent call. "We have to do this. When Mom called me she was practically in tears." No doubt," I replied. "She's got that faucet handle on the back of her head. Remember how she reaches up under her hair, and then suddenly her eyes are brimming."My sister threw down her trump. "Okay, let me talk to Dena." My wife would make me. And Liz knew she would. There was no real option but a grumbling. More

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