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no money, which was most of the time, one boy would pay to get into the theater, and after watching the film to see if his nickel was well-invested, would go to the back of the show, ostensibly to visit the toilet, and then those in the know would notice light flashing from outside when maybe a dozen kids were coming in that way. After having lived in Iowa, the section mentioned in Terkel's book, Hard Times, a couple of years, our family returned to Chicago and lived on the north side for many years. In 1941 I returned to West Englewood and lived at 6010 So. Union (almost straight through from your old place on Green), and as I often times walked to the Englewood (NYC-CRI&P) station, I used to look at the few remaining tiles, all that was then left of the old Glamour, and in 1941 a vacant lot supporting only a large billboard. Up along Wentworth Avenue to the north I can even now show anyone where various old movie houses used to be and some of those really 3rd. rate vaude houses that never charge more than 25₵. and most people paid only 15₵. kids a nickel. We had lived in my early childhood in that section around 71st and Stoney Island Ave. known as Parkside, and can recall the old Parkside Theater, where I saw The Perils of Kathleen, Perils of Pauline, and in particular the story, name of which co-incides with a famous law concerning missing persons - The Enoch Arden Story, which (I think) concerned a sailor who disappeared for seven years and re-appeared after his wife had remarried. Even then the pathos touched me and I have never forgotten the name of the film, though most of the action is forgotten.

  I read Shadow of My Brother not long ago.  Davis Grubb certainly is a hardworking guy.  I saw the film of Night of the Hunter, one of his other books, a few years ago.   But as in the book by Alexander Saxton - Bright Web in the Darkness, I can see very poor sales, as too few negroes would buy the book, sympathetic as it is to negroes, and practically none but a few whites can witness or think about integration without becoming ill.  . I tried to 'phone Saxton while in northern California in 1968, did in fact go to Sausalito when I couldn't find him in the 'phone book, amde [sic] an awful climb and went to his house (the town is almost all hills where houses cling to the earth), but he wasn't home.  The Saxton book I mentioned is in the Seven Seas group on Charing Cross Rd., London.
  A letter from a granddaughter who is helping her husband through university tells me that the FBI and local police look in on classes such as the study of Strategy of the People's Army.  She lives in Santa Ana, Orange County, California, a town where the cops are in the Birch Society in big numbers.   Her husband also took classes in the study of Marxism and Leninism, getting "A" in all studies.  And I wouldn't be surprised if the FBI and cops had an interest in the latter studies.   A few nights ago I saw a rerun of the Army-McCarthy hearings, and as I look at him, S. Agnew seems to be trying to take Joe McCarthy's place, but he is certainly firing the ammunition prepared by Sneaky Dick.  Nixon always has made me think of someone wanted by the police - when I see him.  In the book re the Hollywood Ten, I noted that Nixon never tried to see that the accused got a fair hearing, allowed much irrelevant testimony by ignorant cats like Adolphe Menjou to be heard.   Wasn't it great when one of the ten met J. Parnell Thomas in the can later on?  Ring Lardner, jr. [sic] mentioned meeting that R. C. inquisitor in an article in Satevepost in its declining days.

Hasta la vista (So long) and regards, F. Mead P.S: And thanks again for The Filmgoer's Companion. The Hollywood Ten (I noted) are mentioned in the book going to Carleton College the way you suggest seems to [sic] most direct way. I had to change my 'phone number, which now is: 583-3717. You're welcome here anytime you do come to Chicago

P.P.S. I saw Anne of the Thousand Days while in Brighton. Wasn't being shown in Dublin, probably due to one scene showing a woman getting out of Cardinal Wolsey's bed.