We were so pleased when Steve and Mary Lynn came to Palmyra to see us. There were a few problems, however. Steve called to say they were in town and would soon be there so we told them to meet us by the Catholic church a half-block north of the corner with four churches on it, across from the 39 stone steps up to see the grave of Alvin Smith, which we did not attempt. Steve, however, neglected to tell us he was in the other Palmyra south of the true Palmyra and that it would be some time before he arrove. I saw him go whizzing past the four-corner-church aggregation, realized he was not oriented correctly, so to speak, and then returned. Whereupon, he shooed the dog in the back seat, who was not anxious to go there, but went peacefully, and we headed for the Hill Cumorah. Several of the tour members remarked that Steve and I looked identical. That could have one of two meanings: (a) I really look young and handsome, or (b) Steve looks like an old geezer. After Hill Cumorah, we drove south to Canaindaigua and looked at the mansions on the end of one of the finger lakes and had dinner. I felt a little surreal to be so far out of place and still have my little brother around. We had a great time, agreeing that he and I missed our conversations with our Dad. For my sisters, Steve looks shaped up in each and every regard, so rest easy. This visit was definitely a major highlight of our trip.
In this photo, Steve is considering whether it will be worth it to make some little noises that might irritate me. Note the original Hole in the Wall, from the doorknob, which fit perfectly into the hole. I did not learn this until the last couple of months, but Steve and Ann were the original Hole in the Wall Gang, dumping pea pods and other treasures down there. An anthropologist would have a field day tearing this house apart.