The Passion of Sacco And Vanzetti: a New England Legend
“His appointment with the Writer from New York City had been for three o’clock in the afternoon; but here already it was past three o’clock, and he had missed him at the office of the Defense Committee. When he had inquired there, they thought that possibly the Writer had gone over to join the picket line in front of the State House, or on Temple Street, and that was where the Professor of Criminal Law went to look for him, walking down Beacon Street, and conscious—ever more so as the day lengthened—of the two men in the State Prison only a stone’s throw away.
What a diversity of moods and what a variety of experiences he had gone through today! So much had already happened, and without doubt so very much more was due to happen! The consequential mixed most strangely with the inconsequential—to a point where he sometimes thought that every single motion, action and moment of this singular and awful day was weighted with specific meaning in itself. Such thoughts were not too clear, but ...he was aware that he was no longer thinking very clearly; he was becoming a part of this day, and the motion, the heat, the brutality, the anger and the heartsickness had all had a profound and disturbing effect upon him—to a point where now, hurrying along through the hot summer afternoon, he found himself reciting days and dates.MoreLess
What a diversity of moods and what a variety of experiences he had gone through today! So much had already happened, and without doubt so very much more was due to happen! The consequential mixed most strangely with the inconsequential—to a point where he sometimes thought that every single motion, action and moment of this singular and awful day was weighted with specific meaning in itself. Such thoughts were not too clear, but ...he was aware that he was no longer thinking very clearly; he was becoming a part of this day, and the motion, the heat, the brutality, the anger and the heartsickness had all had a profound and disturbing effect upon him—to a point where now, hurrying along through the hot summer afternoon, he found himself reciting days and dates.MoreLess
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