The Summer of LeahChapter 5
The next morning I made an overseas call to Hong Kong. In the Fifties such calls used a problematic radio-telephone linkage. I finally reached a West Coast operator who said she would attempt the necessary connections and call me back. Twenty minutes later the phone rang and it was my uncle. The connection was terrible. I asked him when he was returning to New York City. The line was filled with fluctuating noise and faint, disjointed voices. I understood him to say the “political situation...