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To each member of his family, to each of his friends, Harold's death brings a private grief. And because he is gone, we are twice disarmed. For it was at just such moments of senseless sadness that each of us was accustomed to lean upon Harold most–looking, for comfort, to his warmth, his ready laugh, his patience and his rare capacity for meeting life wisely and head-on. Now each of us must build our dear companion from private memories.

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