Friday Dec 12


[no entry today]

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A visit to Blitz on 23rd Street amidst the Christmas decorations we contemplate the Zionist dream and the cause so dear to us. The doorways are made for giants and the rooms likewise, the smoke from Blitz’s pipe gathers up there away from our heads and obscures the patterns stamped on the ceiling. Clouds inside it seems to me a little world inside with its own weather, we shake hands and hug underneath it.

Blitz has small black eyes so sharp and kind and I think again he is clean shaven, he has always been clean shaven but still by some trick of the mind I remember him with a full beard, he seems even now to have a beard though he does not, the wisdom and tradition shadow his face unseen. Always he holds a journal in his hand, pencil at the ready to record new thoughts, I am flattered as ever when he stops to write down something I say, an idea he has not himself had, I suggest to him we invite the pastor of the church to our ball.

“Don’t sit back in that chair, Harry, the back legs keep breaking” he warns me and there are no other chairs in the office so I perch.

He worries still about Goldberg and we have an interesting discussion about other speakers for the ball, other choices. He has a list all good people, leaders we know but each one is engaged or not right for the occasion. Maurie practically famous will be in Baltimore for a lecture about his book, Joseph may extend his visit in London and so on. Blitz puts the list aside and says how about you Harry why don’t you speak at the ball?

The request is a surprise and then I remember I must call up Jack I have not yet told him of H’s suggestion for Saturday evening. I have never seen such a girl who would make such a suggestion to a man, a hotel room a ghost hunt but is that not the quality I so admire in her, so unafraid so part of these times? I forget Blitz’s warning and lean back in my chair and the legs shake and protest and I catch myself just in time, a jolt rushes over me and I stand up suddenly and I share a laugh with Blitz.

“Think about it Harry, people look up to you” he says still smiling and he grasps my shoulder as he would if the chair really had broken, as if he had really tried to prevent my fall.

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[Note: This post is a continuation of group started on Dec. 7]

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