I got a room for the summer at the home of Dick and Helen Dudman, who lived in a great old two-story house with a big front porch in northwest Washington. Dick was a distinguished journalist. He and Helen both opposed the war and supported the young people who were trying to stop it. They were wonderful to me. One morning they invited me down to breakfast on the front porch with their friend and neighbor Senator Gene McCarthy. He was serving his last year in the Senate, having announced back in 1968 that he wouldnt run again. That morning he was in an open, expansive mood, offering a precise analysis of current events and expressing some nostalgia at leaving the Senate. I liked McCarthy more than I expected to, especially after he loaned me a pair of shoes to wear to the black-tie Womens Press Dinner, which I think the Dudmans got me invited to. President Nixon came and shook a lot of hands, though not mine. I was seated at a table with Clark Clifford, who had come to Washington from Missouri with President Truman and had served as a close advisor and then as defense secretary to President Johnson in his last year in office. On Vietnam, Clifford noted dryly, Its really one of the most awful places in the world to be involved. The dinner was a heady experience for me, especially since I kept my feet on the ground in Gene McCarthys shoes. "Hojida came and he tried to make order, and he said that theirHighnesses had sent him with promises of gifts and grants and money. Hemade up a large company, for in all Espanola there were few men whowere not vagabonds, and no one lived there who had wife or children."Hojida retired with threats. Pedro Margarita and Father Boil are spoken of as those who had made themost trouble. They had come determined to make a fortune rapidly, andthey did not propose to give up such a hope to the slow processes ofordinary colonization. Columbus knew very well that those who hadreturned to Spain had carried with them complaints as to his own course. 226 久久人人97超碰_超碰国产亚洲人人 So the man groped for light; all this was not Life,鈥攊t was the world-wandering of a soul in search of itself, the striving of one who vainly sought his place in the world, ever haunted by the shadow of a death that is more than death,鈥攖he passing of a soul that has missed its duty. Twenty years he wandered,鈥攖wenty years and more; and yet the hard rasping question kept gnawing within him, "What, in God's name, am I on earth for?" In the narrow New York parish his soul seemed cramped and smothered. In the fine old air of the English University he heard the millions wailing over the sea. In the wild fever-cursed swamps of West Africa he stood helpless and alone. Fulbrights campaign encountered no little resistance from people who disagreed with him on the war or thought he was out of touch, or both. He thought the idea of flying home every weekend was nuts and once said to me, in reference to his colleagues who did it, When do they ever get time to read and think? Sadly, the pressures on members of Congress to travel constantly have grown only more intense. The rising costs of television, radio, and other advertising and the insatiable appetite for news coverage put many senators and congressmen on a plane every weekend and often out many weeknights for fund-raisers in the Washington area. When I was President, I often remarked to Hillary and my staff that I thought one reason congressional debate had grown so harshly negative was that too many members of Congress were in a constant state of exhaustion.