Like the poem, I have no memory of it whatsoever. It is a neatly typed copy of a letter. As it ends with a typed name and no signature, it is obviously not the original copy, if there ever was such a thing. A demon is prompting me to hope it is genuine, but I am ignoring it. Here, without further comment, is the letter:
Feb. 29, 1969Dear Mr. Hayes,
I wish to thank you very much for the radio you donated to the Gold Star Mothers Benefit on October 15th.
I happened to be the lucky winner and am especially pleased because although I am 82 years old, I have never had a radio of my own.
The woman who has a room next to me (her name is Matilda) has had a radio for 5 years and she is only 75 years old.
In the evenings two nights a week I used to listen to her radio but now she got mad at me and wouldn't let me listen anymore.
Two days ago her radio fell off the table and broke to peices and she came to my room and asked if she could listen to my radio. I want you to know Mr. Hayes because of your generous gift I was able to tell her to go f*ck herself.