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I Arrived For Sunday Dinner At My Daughter’s House

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like a drunk at a blackjack table, then nearly buried the whole thing by 2000. Tom and I came in through a private placement after the banks got skittish and the pension funds started circling. We insisted on quiet terms because Tom hated publicity and I was still in federal service.

Harold told everyone he had found “friends of the company.”

That was continue reading …

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