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Esther McCoy                              13

in and out and through the present was a little history of the prides and economies of its age.  
     I detailed the flashing around the roof openings through which the cross could be read.  I was no longer piqued with thoughts of imcompetence.  I had seen how he had done the cross, why he had done it and most of all, I myself had escaped through the glass to stand apart and consider.  Furthermore, I was the junior member of the firm, a firm that had turned the cheapest materials into a pinwheel cross.
     
     He was bothered by my many questions but always responsive.  It would have been presumptious for one so new to praise his work.   I drew; I questioned; I felt my way through to his intentions.
     Materials were still frozen as the war wound down, and there were times when the carpenters went home because there was no dimension lumber.  Then Schindler would tell me to take a few days off until he could find some materials.  Sometimes there was enough material for Andy ^[[the chief carpenter]] to work on the job alone, and twice during such periods I went to the sites with him. 
     The first time was to see the church.  He was a different person with the carpenters.  He exploded with anger when he saw that the ends of the cross had been cut off clean rather than in the pyramidal shape shown in the plan.  He borrowed a saw and cut one himself. 
     There was a striking difference between the solid side of