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Frances PerkinsFrances Perkins
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They'd come from the West Virginia fields. Were they sad! They were the true mourners. You realized then that a tremendous element in their lives had gone out of it. They had not only a tremendous respect for this man, but an affection so deep that it was personal and yet so broad that it was kind of universal and impersonal. It was real. They were a real picture of tragic grief, because he was not old enough to die in their way of thinking. He was in his fifties. He wasn't a very old man. They felt as though something great, something that protected them, something that had been on their side was gone and they might not see his like again.

I went downstairs to the lobby of the hotel with somebody else from the department. We walked around. People came to speak to us because they knew we were his associates. They would come up and talk to us. They wanted to know what we knew about him, what had he done about this, that and the other. It was very beautiful.

We had the mass the next morning and then we went out to the cemetery. This was an experience for me. We drove out in procession to the burial. A tomb, the like of which I never hope to see, had been erected by the United Mine Workers. It was like a house - a great, big, stone house. I would have said it was a masonry house, but I didn't see how that could have been erected since his death. I didn't





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