A later letter from Richard accused Arthur of rewriting history.

He described nights he waited alone after baseball games, business meetings where Arthur overruled him, and the humiliation of being told he’d ruined the family enterprise.

Reading it, I finally saw Richard as the child in the old photographs, not just the man who had shouted on my porch.

“Does he know these are here?” I asked.

“He wrote some of them,” Bennett answered.

“He may not know Arthur saved them.”