Posted by
Shorebread | Tuesday, August 02, 2011
Sounds of jovial laughter echo across the sprawling bay
front lawn. A glimpse of ladies
bedecked in jewels, minks, and long gowns that swish and sway as they walk,
deep in conversation. Gentleman, perhaps with cigars and snifters in hand, clap
each other on the back, taking turns commanding the stage, sharing
stories. Silver trays filled with
crystal champagne glasses float by, held aloft by white-gloved hands. For a young Adam Showell, peeking through
the spindles from the...
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