Before my late father, Lomax, died, he was an avid collector of antique letters—200-year-old certificates, forms, and stamps—
and one of his great pleasures was tracking down the descendants of the writers and sending the letters back to them, as if returning voices to their bloodlines. He always told us, “You have to have hobbies,” and when he no longer tended to his, his mental health severly declined; before he could throw the collection away,
I took it.