In 1925, a young Arizona reporter, virtually fresh off the farm, wrote a love letter to a sophisticated Jewish New Yorker he had met at a dinner-dance. It was the first of scores of letters they would exchange over the next four decades. She, Fanny (Toni) Strassman, became his literary agent. He, Charles Harris (Brick) Garrigues, went on to become a graft-busting investigator in Los Angeles, a jazz reviewer in San Francisco, a husband and father, a target of Red-hunters, — and a man haunted by a secret from his high-school past. (From the back cover.)