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Frank kept it hidden in what he called his 'wall safe' in his bedroom.

Actually, it wasn't a safe but just an old stove flue with a tin lid.

There was a big sex orgy when everybody knew that the world was going to end, and then Jesus Christ Himself appeared ten seconds before the bomb went off.

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His fingers made the string figure called a 'cat's cradle.' I don't know where Father learned how to do that. His father was a tailor, you know, so there must have been thread and string around all the time when Father was a boy."Making that cat's cradle was the closest I ever saw my father come to playing what anybody else would call a game.

He had no use at all for tricks and games and rules that other people made up.

The first sentence in The Books of Bokonon is this:"All of the true things I am about to tell you are shameless lies."My Bokononist warning in this: Anyone unable to understand how a useful religion can be founded on lies will not understand this book either. I am gathering material for a book relating to the first atomic bomb. Father was staying home from the laboratory in his pajamas all day that day.

Its contents will be limited to events that took place on August 6, 1945, the day the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima."Since your late father is generally recognized as having been one of the chief creators of the bomb, I would very much appreciate any anecdotes you might care to give me of life in your father's house on the day the bomb was dropped."I am sorry to say that I don't know as much about your illustrious family as I should, and so don't know whether you have brothers and sisters. He stayed home whenever he wanted to."Father, as you probably know, spent practically his whole professional life working for the Research Laboratory of the General Forge and Foundry Company in Ilium.

Jonah--John--if I had been a Sam, I would have been Jonah still--not because I have been unlucky for others, but because somebody or something has compelled me to be certain places at certain times, without fail. I would have been a Bokononist then, if there had been anyone to teach me the bittersweet lies of Bokonon.

Nice, nice, very nice; Nice, nice, very nice; Nice, nice very nice--So many different people In the same device.

If you do have brothers and sisters, I should like very much to have their addresses so that I can send similar requests to them."I realize that you were very young when the bomb was dropped, which is all to the good, My book is going to emphasize the human rather than the technical side of the bomb, so recollections of the day through the eyes of a 'baby, if you'll pardon the expression, would fit in perfectly."You don't have to worry about style and form. Just give me the bare bones of your story."I will, of course, submit the final version to you for your approval prior to publication."Fraternally yours--"Chapter Five Letter froma pre med To which Newt replied:"I am sorry to be so long about answering your letter. He disappeared right after Father's funeral two years ago, and nobody has heard from him since. When the Manhattan Project came along, the bomb project, Father wouldn't leave Ilium to work on it. You probably know that, too."Anyway, I was playing on the carpet outside his study on the day of the bomb.

That sounds like a very interesting book you are doing. For all we know, he may be dead now."I was only six years old when they dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, so anything I remember about that day other people have helped me to remember."I remember I was playing on the living-room carpet outside my father's study door in Ilium, New York. He said he wouldn't work on it at all unless they let him work where he wanted to work. The only place he liked to go, outside of Ilium, was our cottage on Cape Cod. My sister Angela tells me I used to play with little toy trucks for hours, making motor sounds, going 'burton, burton, burton' all the time.

I do not intend that this book be a tract on behalf of Bokononism. I learned from the publication of my fraternity, The Delta Upsilon Quarterly, that Newton Hoenikker, son of the Noel Prize physicist, Felix Hoenikker, had been pledged by my chapter, the Cornell Chapter. Hoenikker:"Or should I say, Dear Brother Hoenikker?

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