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linen dress of some light shade like rose or pale blue and it was decorated with some fine embroidery. I also noted her southern accent and her rose and tan complexion. I thought she was someone I'd like to know. Perhaps because we registered together we wound up at the same table, No. 22, in the dining room. At this same table were Eleanor Dodson, daughter of the Unitarian minister in St. Louis, Fred Wulfing of St. Louis, and Fritz Brant of Louisville, plus several others whose names I've lost except one girl whose first name was Elinor and who was a doll. Fred Wulfing proved to be a Phi Delt who'd only recently graduated from Washington University in St. Louis. We kept in touch for awhile but then dropped it and the next we heard of Fred Wulfing was in 1966 when we were on the world cruise and we saw a Mrs. Fred Wulfing of St. Louis in the passenger list; so we contacted her and found that Fred had died a short time before. Willie and I became good friends but both of us had many other friends also. I thought a great deal of Eleanor Dodson, a very lovely girl, and I seem to have more pictures in my photo album of the mysterious little Elinor than any other particular girl although I can't remember her last name and never saw or heard of her again. But Willie and I corresponded regularly after going home and exchanged photos we'd taken and the tie was made, never to be broken.

It is odd how one thing will remain in your memory to the exclusion of everything else. For example, I can recall absolutely nothing of the subject matter of the various lectures that we heard at the conference save that most of it was religious, with one exception, and I can remember that as if I were hearing it right now. One of the "faculty" was a Dr. Soares, a Unitarian minister and a middle-aged man who reminded me a bit of my father with his dark moustache. He had a beautiful speaking voice and in one of his talks, he was pointing out how much beauty was to be had just for the asking, in so many things that cost nothing. As an example, he quoted the first stanza of Gray's Elegy and I thought I'd never heard anything quite as lovely:

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

It was my privelege one night to conduct the Candlelight Service, which was perhaps the most impressive ceremony of the entire Island routine. I'm going to quote briefly from my YANKEE article, just a portion of the description of Candlelight to try to convey at least a slight feel for the unique beauty of the entire Shoals experience and how it affected me:

After the Scripture reading, we arose to sing. The rich,