It had an oversized desk, a small library of books and several ornately framed pictures of judges that had once occupied the room. He picked up the phone and called his dentist. “That’s right, soon as you can. Can I get some pain meds at the drug store? Good, then yes, this afternoon... that works. What time? ... Fine, see you then.” He pushed on the intercom and asked Alice, his secretary, to find him an ice pack. “My father would have sent me for some pain killers,” he mumbled. He sat back and closed his eyes. Unlike the vast majority of men and women who have opinions on war, Joseph Lindquist formed his while living through one. When he returned from Europe in ’46 he went to college and studied history in a vain attempt to intellectualize what he had experienced. He never found an answer that completely satisfied him. Lindquist and his friend Tom Aspinwall, a judge appointed under Nixon, had many a discussion about politics.
