He had the look of a soldier, the posture perhaps. He fed me and we talked for a while. He had lost his arm at Brandywine and since I had been on the ...dges of that battle, we exchanged memories. The doctors had cut off his arm in the same house where Lafayette was being treated for his wound. He could describe the shade tree out front and the smell of the place so well that I knew he had been there too. It made the old wound in my shoulder ache.Mr. Forest had been married, but his wife and two. “What are you studying?” I subtly inquired.“Now? Or in general?” she asked.I chuckled. “I know what you’re studying now, but I was asking in general.”“Social Services,” she replied.“And that would be like, what?”“I want to be a social worker or a professional counselor and help people find a true measure of happiness,” she dutifully replied. It was a safe answer.“So, what makes you happy?” I pressed.“A decent conversation with a man who doesn’t use the term “like” over and over,” she replied.I. More

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