The day of the typewriter salute

My first and only experience working for the government was with the U. S. Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Gordon, Georgia following the drafting of my husband into service.

I was given a short paper revealing a “Job Description”, one paragraph of what the government expected of me. I read it quickly, thinking “is that all?”

Simpson, my boss, also civil service, seated one desk away, was the Parole Office. He spent much of his time whisking back and forth to the kitchen for multiple cups of coffee. One might surmise the pressure of his job, owing to…