I live in an extremely old apartment — it predates the SF earthquake. It has some strange features that you don’t see in buildings these days, including a potato storage basin and a flour bin. Today, I was reaching into a dark and dusty crawlspace behind my bookshelf, which is deadbolted to the wall. I was just trying to get to a couple of pictures and books that had fallen way back into the crawlspace– but when I reached back there, I found a clutch of old, yellowing papers. It turned out to be love letters that an American G.I. sent to his girlfriend (or wife — I can’t tell…) from Europe in World War II. I’m hoping to use my research skills to track down the author of the letters (or the descendents of the author) and send these back to their rightful owner. More later.