I was at a barbecue, talking with an old fellow who was wearing an IBEW T-shirt. I was talking about the power of volunteering, about how some people volunteered to spend a couple of weeks registering voters in 1963 and now they’re the ones telling us about dinner with Martin.
"Oh, I worked for Martin," he told me. "Sure. Though most of the time, I was with Malcolm."
"What was Malcolm like," I asked him, "What was he like we he wasn’t angry? Or was he just angry all the time?"
"Oh, Malcom. Malcolm, he had a lovely smile."