Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

out my original deed from nineteen eighty-two, the deed that had my name and my husband’s name written in elegant, old-fashioned cursive.

I placed the deed at the bottom of the metal box. On top of it, I laid Dr. Albert’s medical evaluation, the notary-stamped revocation of power of attorney, and my bank books showing my small, honest balance.

I pulled continue reading …