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

he said. “Your nerves were starving for oxygen because the blood vessels in your feet were constricting in the winter drafts.”

He paused, setting his pen down on his desk calendar.

“You have fought a hard battle these past few weeks, Martha,” he said softly. “You have earned your peace.”

“Thank you, Albert,” I said, using his first name for the first continue reading …