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Show 7X5 a. an arc frtom the hole in Grandjfather's face. The nose hung by about a half-inch of skin, f The other workers in the fore :or the axe had h i t diagnonally. J3t - a l l of them Mormons, priesthoocl-holders - gathered around my grandfather. Someone pit his nose in place, then a l l put t h e i r hands over it and prsyed, 'administering* healing power - calling on God to step the bleeding, heal the wound. The bleeding quickly was stopped; the noseAhealed in p|.ace, leaving only a thin white scar. The scar did not even show up in the p o r t r a i t which I borrowed from my mother's c o l l e c t i o n . Grandfather Harvey didn't smile - but no one ever smiled in photographs taken at the turn of the century, a$ though they a l l sensed a grim future. But -there was an undisguised l i v e l i n e s s in i his eyes, pjxd the t h r e a t of a hearty laugh lurking beneath thick camouflage of moustache,. His jaw was strong and nicely-pointed, r a t h e r l i k e Brian's, I thought, and the cheekbonesf high, suggesting a trace of Indian blood. His I one irreverent feature were his strangely Pan-like ears, unusually symmetrical, l i k e the r e s t of his head. I liked him. I wished tovhave known him. I r e a d everything he had written and everything w r i t t e n about him. ^whicb, somehow gave more substance to my own. His experiences somehow c l a r i f i e d my yearning to understand the Past and- the r e l i g i o n which had framed my l i f e . His predictive dreams gave g r e a t e r credence to my own. His thoughts augmented my : s i m i l a r thoughts. His pursuit of the truth in loneliness - echoed my own. His searching s p i r it fostered mine. His legs had been broken by a f-Paol llilinngg txrieee during the |