YOUUUU AND WHOSE ARMY???? What a luster shine that is I don’t think I can stop moaning. sleep sleep sleep
Sammy is at his best. He said he’s never been so dedicated to cracking a code in his life. But when I asked him if he even thought there was a code, he said, “Now what would that matter?”
Thus far he can’t decide if the words themselves are the code, or the letters are the code. He gave me the above excerpt and told me to try my best. I looked at it for a while, then said Hank was a smart man, and I didn’t know him very long, but I miss him. Sammy squeezed my forearm and said he was sorry for my pain—but that's positively not what the journal means.
He’s given excerpts to Boyce, but he’s pretty sure Boyce is just passing them on to Charlotte. Sammy doesn’t mind though, since he’s sure if anyone can crack this code it’s Charlotte. Maybe my uncle's old friends could crack the code, since they're generally saying a lot of things that don't make any sense to anyone. If I had more time I would go out to my uncle's grave and write some of Hank's words on the tombstone. Maybe someone would write back, "Put it all on double zero!"
I'm sure Sammy doesn't think there is a code, but just to relieve his frustration he ordered a few Russian mail-order bride catalogs for Dr. Keegman's office. He ordered all of us one, too. He said it's like a fire extinguisher--every home should have one.
I'm not convinced anyone is reading this blog, but I told Sammy I would give a direct request to any readers to try to come up with a code from the above passage of Hank's journal.
