My second night alone at my mom's condo, which we are finally working in earnest on emptying, a little over a year after her passing.
There is no TV so I decided to pick up an actual book. My choices, while not infinite, are vast. I wind up having an encounter with Gerda's copy of James Gleick's Chaos. As my sister-in-law had been noting earlier that day, it is astounding how many of her books Gerda actually read, as irrefutably evidenced by her detailed underlining and margin notes.
Started becoming engrossed in it myself (even though I have read it before, I believe) and found the mention of Stanislaw Ulam and thought, "I think he worked with my Uncle Paul." Sure enough, turned to the index to find Paul Stein listed several times.
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