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

the house.”

I reached down and cleared away a few dry twigs that had fallen across the dates. The stone was freezing to the touch, but my hands were steady.

“Brenda tried to sell it,” I whispered. “She and Greg had a contract with a developer who wanted to tear it down.”

I pulled my wool coat tighter around my shoulders.

“But I found the socks, Arthur,continue reading …