In 1962 I read an article about Herbert Hoover in Parade magazine. The article described his austere life in the Waldorf-Astoria towers, and noted the ex-president still received a half dozen letters each day. He would write his responses on a yellow tablet and sign the responses after they had been typed by his staff.

Knowing that my grandparents would place great value on a letter from Mr. Hoover, I typed a letter to him immediately, citing a Supreme Court decision long since forgotten. When I examined the letter I was chagrined by the strike-overs and added an apology for my typing. His response that I was a “master of the typewriter already” was not only gracious, it was a useful affidavit to show my typing teacher father when he complained about my eccentric two-fingered style.