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I remember an elderly couple, the Masters, and their apartment across the street from my family's house in suburban Chicago. As a four or five year old girl growing up in the 1960's, I identified with an innocent era of community assurance. Neighbors were friends and respected figures of authority. Mr. and Mrs. Masters were a likewise praiseworthy couple in the glow of their eighties. The couple frequently strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood dressed as if going to church, Mr. Masters attired in a charcoal suit and Mrs. Masters in a floral print knee-length dress. They wore…
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