Word: chatted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Even after 25 years, "Uncle Shad" seems to retain genuine popularity with his people. He has the common touch. In the old days, he would sit on the back porch of the then ramshackle executive mansion and call out to passersby to stop for a chat. Even now, at a public function, he is not above grabbing a snare drum and playing it, to the delight of the crowd. There is also an almost Victorian courtesy about him, to visitors as well as to his own people. Like the quadrilles he enjoys dancing, it is touchingly out of date...
Trim and lithe, her rich brown hair flowing over her shoulders, America's only working queen strides the hilly lanes of her capital, Gangtok. As she passes by, the Sikkimese smile, nod and stop to chat, all formality forgotten. Hope Cooke, the shy Sarah Lawrence student married five years to the King of Sikkim, finds herself very much at home in the tiny Himalayan country. "The mountains," she says, "give me such a secure feeling. I don't feel vulnerable here...
First, though, there are prayers to be said, friends to chat with, a roast goose to be eaten. Papa even allows himself an extra glass of his favorite Rhenish wine, which he calls a "noble gift of God." After the meal, he eases his thick frame down before a harpsichord in the parlor. Crowding about the creche and the candlelit tree, the party joins in singing a carol or one of Luther's mighty hymns. Then Papa-head thrown back, fingers marching over the keys in a steady, stately rhythm-begins to improvise, outlining a succession of daring harmonies...
Francis is particularly proud that, every now and then, some bearded Black Power militant drops by for a chat. Francis feels that he scores points by welcoming him with a Black Power handshake (which Francis learned from his eight-year-old son). In other years, Francis points out, "I'm not sure the Black Power militant would have come in the first place, and second, I don't know if the college president would have felt comfortable talking...
THUS DOES Cooke approach his topics: with sketches, vivid description, and not a little humor below the surface. It is somehow appropriate that a chat about a Californian living in the midst of swimming pools, sprinkler systems, and ultra-modern cigarette lighters should conclude with a picture of this "professional Californian"--perhaps the precursor of a new civilization--sitting in his living room with a .22 rifle ready to blast into eternity the next squirrel that tries to munch from his laboriously-fostered grass lawn...