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Updated: May 2, 2025
Bolling was unsympathetic but she was thorough. She liked to see things properly done. Since David and his young friends had undertaken a venture so absurd, she decided to lend them a helping hand with it. Besides, now that she had no children of her own in the house, Mademoiselle was practically eating her head off.
Before reaching Thoroughfare Gap we had the pleasure of a visit from Mr. Robert Bolling, or rather found him waiting on the roadside to see his son, of our mess, having driven from his home in the neighborhood. His son had been left behind sick, but his messmates did full justice to the bountiful supply of refreshments brought in the carriage for him.
The F-94 crew searched the area for a few minutes but they couldn't find anything unusual so they returned to their base. So ended phase one of the Washington National Sightings. The Bolling AFB intelligence officer said he would write up the complete report and forward it to ATIC. That afternoon things bustled in the Pentagon.
She was the aging, rather wry faced Frenchwoman who had been David's young brother's governess and had made herself so useful to Mrs. Bolling that she was kept always on the place, half companion and half resident housekeeper.
"My Dear Fitzhugh: I have been anxious for some time to write to you, to express the pleasure I have felt a the prospects of your marriage with Miss Bolling; but sickness has prevented, and I am still so feeble that I cannot attend to the pressing business connected with the college.
"You see, we are not possessed with eyes in the backs of our heads, or we should have recognized you. Goodness gracious! If there isn't my cousin, Jack Bolling! I never dreamed you knew him. Why didn't you tell me? Jack, where did you come from?" Tom looked at Jack, and Jack looked at Tom. "Age before beauty, Mr. Curtis," bowed Jack. "You answer first."
He could barely reach her hand across the intervening expanse of leather couch, but he accomplished it, he was too wise to move closer to her. "You're a lovely, lovely being," he said reverently. "God grant I may reach you and hold you." She curled a warm little finger about his. "What would Mrs. Bolling say?" she asked practically. "To tell you the truth, she spoke of it the other day.
She was a good child, David Bolling decided, a sporting child, willing evidently to play when it was her turn, even when she didn't understand the game at all. It was certainly a new kind of game that she would be so soon expected to play her part in, a rather serious kind of game, if you chose to look at it that way. David himself hardly knew how to look at it.
She says does Uncle David go much to see Aunt Beulah, and I say, not so often as Uncle Jimmie does. Then she says does he go to see Aunt Margaret, and I say that he goes to see Uncle Peter the most. Well, if he doesn't he almost does. You can't tell Mrs. Madam Bolling that you won't tattle, because she would think the worst." Eleanor grew to like Mademoiselle.
In this Chamber, along with some of you, I have experienced many, many of the highlights of my life. It was here that I stood 28 years ago with my freshman colleagues, as Speaker Sam Rayburn administered the oath. I see some of you now Charlie Bennett, Dick Bolling, Carl Perkins, Pete Rodino, Harley Staggers, Tom Steed, Sid Yates, Clem Zablocki-and I remember those who have gone to their rest.
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