In 1909, a 27-year-old law clerk named Franklin Delano Roosevelt landed on the island.
Now the 7-foot-tall law clerk is sitting in the psychiatric ward of an Anchorage hospital.
As he spoke he approached the door, and as I followed him the law clerk stopped me by a touch on the shoulder.
With that we parted, the law clerk thanking me warmly and giving me his hand.
The London law clerk looked disdainfully at the company, and then made a hasty exit.
Then, with an affable smile, the law clerk offered me his hand.
The law clerk pointed with trembling hand, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whipcords.
“But he may not have remained in the wilderness,” cried the law clerk.
He could look as soulful as a law clerk summing up to a jury of one with his arm around it.
“You are right, sir; the trunk did not come from England,” said the law clerk.