Working for Joseph R. DiSanto was a privilege: I got paid to learn about writing and editing from him, and he was a stellar teacher. We sometimes fought about politics, but mostly we laughed. He was one of the most brilliant, stoic, gallant people I have ever known.
During one harrowing, months-long editing project, our scribbles back and forth became so sarcastic that I made four large collages out of the clippings. I don't know if I still have those collages, but here is one little memory of Joe that I'll always save. I'd submitted the stories for a newsletter, and I was so bored by one of them that I was too lazy to give it a decent headline. This is what was returned to my desk: