Franklin Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

the whole thing might be a setup or a hoax perpetrated by the anti-Ben crowd. They tried to turn him into a British spy, don’t forget. And there was also the Prophecy. If it had not been for our efforts, there is a good chance that the false and idiotic charge that Ben made an anti-Semitic speech at the Constitutional Convention might have taken on new, maybe permanent, life.
    I beg your forgiveness for putting you in such a position. But, as I said, I grew to know I had no choice. The papers must be studied, and you are the only one on the face of this earth who can do it the right way, in a fair, discreet, and credible manner.
    I urge you to go about your work in complete secrecy. You don’t have to tell Wes Braxton, for instance, why you want to see those papers in his safe. He’s the kid in charge of the museum at present. Just tell him I mentioned them to you and there was an outside chance they might relate to your research—something like that. It would be a shame if information about your investigation became public and it then turned out to be baseless. Ben and his tricentennial would be hurt for nothing.
    Thank you for doing this, R. I fervently hope that my initial readings and impressions of what is written in the papers are wrong and that Ben continues to soar.
    Good luck. And God’s speed.
    Yours for Ben,
    Wally
    Wally.
The name was written in the manner of Ben’s signature, complete with his ornamental lines below.

    Yours for Ben.
    Always, Wally; always for Ben. Certainly, I will do what you want about the Eastville papers. Haven’t I always done what you wanted? It shall be done . . .
    Wally. Ben. Wally and Ben. Ben and Wally.
    Wally had always insisted that everyone, including students, call him Wally the way he and most other Franklin scholar/worshippers referred to their man simply as Ben. Wally loved contrasting that with the Jefferson acolytes, who spoke reverently in hushed voices of
their
hero as “Mr. Jefferson”—as if he were God. Wally took pleasure in saying the distinction also fit the contrasting personalities of Common Man Franklin and Imperial Man Jefferson. “Could you ever imagine books about Jefferson with the titles,
Tom One
and
Tom Two
?” he would ask.

THREE

    R arrived early at Gray House, hoping to spend some private time with Wally before anyone other than morticians and caterers were around. But whoever came in person, R knew there would be no escaping the varied presences of Ben as well as Wally.
    A
Philadelphia Inquirer
feature story once described Wally’s personal collection of Benjamin Franklin memorabilia as giving Gray House “the appearance of a museum—almost.” From R’s perspective, the look was a mix of theme junkyard and cheap curio shop—almost.
    But as he mounted the front steps, R figured Wally had the right, even in his deteriorated state of mind, to do what he pleased. Why shouldn’t Ben’s leading biographer and worshipper be surrounded in death by likenesses of Ben himself?
    True, the images were many and varied: on painted plaster death masks; on a multitude of plastic, brass, bronze, chrome, lead, glass, and wood busts of all sizes; and on a variety of cloth, leather, bobble-head, traditional, Smurf, and commemorative costumed dolls as well as salt-and-pepper shakers, lamps, lanterns, typewriter ribbon tins, cream and sugar sets, coffeepots, beer mugs, chess sets, teakettles, wind-up toys, medals, firefighting equipment, pennants, flags, money clips, stoves, bookends, Avon bottles, lightning rods, door knockers, walking-stick knobs, wax seals, oilcans, nutcrackers, tip trays, cuff links, whiskey flasks, syrup cans and bottles, switch-plate covers, pewter and bronze statuettes, flashlight batteries, kites, computer mouse pads, cell-phone covers, paperweights, wooden whirligigs, toy printing presses, piggy banks, Christmas tree ornaments, watch and clock faces, armonica sheet music,