Our beautiful country club with its wide verandas and green lawns, our touch of richness and refinement in the drab sand and stones of the surrounding countryside, was mysteriously burned one night. No more elegant dances, no more summer parties for the children, no more hiking around the greens to look for lost golf balls. Only a charred rubble remained. There were rumors and counter-rumors, all of them ugly. You could almost smell fear.
Men didn t look at each other in the face.
Everyone was under suspicion. Loyalties were divided. One could sense an undercurrent of outrage seething. Our fathers were often from home. They were closed mouthed when asked questions, so one did not ask too many questions.