The inmate was aware that all prison mail passes through censors. When he got a letter from his wife asking about the family garden --- "Honey, when do I plant potatoes?" --- he wrote back, "Do not, under any circumstances, dig up our old garden spot. That's where I buried all my guns." Within days his wife wrote back, "Six investigators came to the house. They dug up every square inch of the back yard." By return mail she got his answer: "Now is the time to plant potatoes."
Adventures in Ancestry: A Revolutionary Tale
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Only 15 miles separated Weymouth, MA, from Boston, but very often it felt
as if the small village was a world away. Where Boston was a large and
bustling s...
2 days ago
1 comment:
Ha ha! Good one.
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