Beshert | The Phone Number in His Wallet
It was early September 1956. I was living in a Greenwich Village basement apartment, when I got a phone call from one Dick Lavine from Webster, Massachusetts. I knew it as an ugly mill town where an aunt had moved with a new husband and her daughter Rita had found a husband, ending up in an apartment next door to Jennie and Phil Lavine. Rita told Jennie one day that she had a cousin in New York whom their son Dick should call if he were ever in the city.
Dick put the paper with my phone number in his wallet and forgot about it until he moved to New York that summer. He had just graduated from Georgetown Law School and started his first job with the Federal Trade Commission in their New York office....
