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their flats to make way for thee new landlords' streetwalker teams, as also did one Jew by the name of Rachman, now dead, but whose practices are remembered in the coined-word, "Rachmanism." Many of the people turned out had to go to those hostels that are shown in CATHY COME HOME. While we were in Dublin, men were insisting on living with their families, at least on week-ends, and troops had to be called out to prevent the husbands from taking over the hostels. The families concerned had had to leave the houses that were being "pulled down," to use the old country phrase. It's little wonder that we (my wife and I) could find nothing decent in underlined: our price range, though we were offered flatlets (6) that weren't fit to store nice coal in, at exorbitant rentals. Flats such as we lived in on Sangamon Street in Chicago are called "luxury flats," and to get into "a block of luxury flats" one must get on a long waiting list, wait from six months to a year, then pay a thing called "rates," which is part of the landlords' taxes, also make a substantial deposit to guarantee decoration of the flat after one departs, and not to forget, sign a lease for maybe two or three years. This latter thing was also a feature of engaging the cheaper, old-style places. I suspect that the English financiers (estate agents handle matters for them) are still running the money business in Ireland. There were more flats available in N. Ireland, but the same high prices and almost as dirty, though not so much pressure about signing long term leases. One could smell the religious intolerance in Belfast, and my wife, who was a sincere Methodist, told me she felt one could never really "belong" up there; none of the friendliness a stranger meets with in the USA when he comes to a new church.

   Beginning with Birmingham on my way down toward southern England, I noticed that the "C of E" churches had on their announcement boards the phrase, "Ignore the hungry, maybe they'll go away."  Which is what even the churches have always done, and now, all of a sudden a great interest in the hungry - coupled woth sic a money drive.  But I must say that I think the Episcopalian Church has a much better record as to treatment of the poor, and I may have told you that my mother and the kids of our family were once "guests" at the Home for the Friendless, note in left margin:  51st & Vincennes  which later became Oakwoods Relief station, and more recently a tumble-down public school.   The "home" was "C of E,"  but I remember there was more kindness than at a Catholic orphanage where I spent some time, long enough to get a skin infection when a nun had three of us boys bathe in a wooden tub with no change of water.  I was boy number three, the others had obvious ringworm on their heads.  We were treated more like prisoners there, beatings were handed out like handbills, and the food was ghastly.  It's been great to realize the the R. C. Church has been foiled in its latest attempt to raid the state treasury, and I even thank the Baptist fanatics who came to Springfield in great numbers to beat the bill to grant aid to the Catholic school system.  I've been contributing to Madalyn Murray's    "S-O-S" outfit for years.  Joined A.C.L.U. last year.
  Quite cool weather today.  I've turned on my gas heater three times since May 1, and will do so again tonight, I reckon.  We 'uns that retired from RR service are supposed to get an increase in pensions one of these days, we hope.   In 1966, the year after I left the service, men with my years of service were given an extra seventy bucks which I won't get - like many others.  Speaking of inequality.

Best wishes, F. Mead P.S.: Although Moran's Hotel wasn't too bad as regards toilet paper and soap, from Scotland on down it was "status quo," and the German landlady at Cambridge was the worst; I sent her a strong letter later.