His voice husky with the grievance of the injured party, his delivery staccato and without a single caesura to let anything in that wasn’t retaliatory, all calumny, all castigation, all coercion and fatuous bluff, Alvin shouted at my father, “The Jews? I wrecked my life for the Jews! I lost my fuckin’ leg for the Jews! I lost my fuckin’ leg for you! What did I give a shit either way about Lindbergh? But you send me to go fuckin’ fight him, and the stupid fuckin’ kid I am, I go. And look, look, Uncle Fucking Disaster—I have no fucking leg!”
