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Frances PerkinsFrances Perkins
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Part:         Session:         Page of 912

It was very beautiful. I mean, it was just right, and the day--I shall never forget it--the clouds were long, lean, kind of grey clouds in the sky. The sun broke out just at the end of the service. Just as we were leaving the burial ground, the sun sort of came through. It didn't rain, but it was a grey day. It was bright. The air was bright, the colors were bright, but it was a greyish sky, and The little leaves, just the bare signals of spring, on the trees.

Interviewer:

Do you remember, in the middle of the ceremony-- I only know about it because Wickard told me--he took his camera, which I thought was deplorable taste, and it was a great humiliation to him, because he snapped a picture and he said that the click of the camera sounded like a cannon shot going off. He never showed me the picture he took, apparently must have thrown it away.

Perkins:

Or else he locked it up somewhere. Well, I don't recall it. If I did hear such a thing, I thought it was some dreadful newspaper reporter obing it. Of course, the newspaper reporters were there--not all of them, but a selected body were present--but it had been absolutely forbidden that they should take pictures. Although they took pictures outside the garden--I mean, they took pictures not of everybody, but of some of the people who were present, as they came out.





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