Telephone MUrray Hill 6-4986
OPERATION DEMOCRACY, INC.
369 Lexington Avenue
New York 17, N. Y.

Sept 28, 1948

Mrs. Velma Carson
Morganville, Kansas

Dear Velma,

Bob assures me that he calls you by your first name, so I don't see why I can't. After all, it was just an accident that he got out to Morganville instead of myself - and, after all, you have already discovered the name which I go by. Incidentally, �Lafe� comes from Lafayette. Le General visited our little town of Dunkirk years ago and made a great hit with a female ancestor of mine. The name hasn�t missed a generation since. One old California uncle of mine got in trouble because he insisted on using the whole business; i.e., Marquis de Lafayette. He got out of it though by changing it to Marcus de Lafayette after someone reminded him that titles of nobility weren't granted over here.

Your pictures just came in, and I know now what I missed out there. I also know why Bob grows speechless, begins to mumble etc., whenever Morganville comes up. Someday I want the truth. Just what did you people really do to Bob?

Now, I hate to be asking you for things all the time - but we have got to have copies of prints no. 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 12, and 13 immediately. About six each. One for the Embassy, one for the French tourist Office (to show what you did with their posters), one for AATF, one for me, and a couple for the files in case a story comes along. I trust you will send copies to Feves yourself. If you can get these made (some of our prints have numbers written across the face and couldn't be reproduced), just send us the bill and we will take care of it right away.

I'm sorry about the TIMES story. They have carried a great deal on town affiliation in general, and reporters keep complaining that they have got to find a �new angle.� Well, I suppose decency and honesty are not enough - or perhaps a little too unbelievable. Actually, the story of Durkirk never got told as it should have been. I tried, but somehow words are not quite the right implements for it. The other night I listened to Mrs. King describe the distribution in Ste. Mere Eglise of the gifts from Locust Valley. It was done in a Neissen Hut with 800 people present. A little French boy was Uncle Sam, a little girl was the Statue of Liberty. The church outside had new stained glass windows - one of them showed the Mother and Child against a background of dropping parachutes. Candy was given out first, and among the recipients were the old ladies in black dresses and white caps. They had very few teeth among them, and the sound of hard candy being sucked in the back of the room was so loud the Maire had to ask for a little less noise. Mrs. King, brilliant story teller that she is, couldn't cope with the tale. I am sure no one can cope adequately with Morganville either.

Sometimes I wonder what is behind all this. The desire for peace isn't all. Nor is it just the Christmas glow which comes when one is playing Santa Claus. I once heard old John McCaulliffe, of Dunkirk, say in all simplicity: �lt�s somehow as though Christ had spent a day in Dunkirk.� Well, maybe. Or maybe people are just waiting for an opportunity to be better than they really are. At any rate, it is a strange phenomenon. It happens nearly every time - to a greater or lesser degree. If you know what it is, please tell me!

I hope to Heaven Feves gets the point. The hard practicality and inborn cynicism of the French is sometimes difficult to cope with. It will all depend on the presence of a few bright people in Feves - especially some who can read English. I lie awake nights trying to think of how to get the message of Morganville to them. I hope to go to France in November, and if possible, I will go to Feves and tell it to them in my own inimitable French.

Miss Hansen has told us about the shipment which is on its way, and, naturally, we are proud and delighted. You were right not to sort things. Those clothes will tell a story too.

An editor just called me and said, �How in hell can we carry your story with things the way they are now?� My reaction to that is that maybe Thurber's Last Flower will remember the story someday, or possibly some atom-scarred Adam will find it buried in a forgotten cave - so, for the love of Pete, print it!

Well, thanks for all the good letters and please try to get to New York someday. I've told the story of Morganville to the cook over at a restaurant called Le Cheval Pie, and its good for a free meal.

Best regards,

(Lafe Todd)