Guidelines For Living con Harold Sala

It happened frequently. The door of my office would be closed, and I'm would be quietly working or engaged in conversation with someone when suddenly the door would open, and a lean, dignified, rather tall American of German descent—then in his 90's— would come marching in, having done an "end run" around the receptionist and my assistant, much as a defensive tackle would do in breaking through the line of scrimmage in a football game. In his hand would be a magazine article or something encouraging which he wanted me to have. He stayed for only a few brief moments. Then he was gone, often reminding me of Elijah who appeared unannounced in the court of King Ahab.