From the hospital bed where he lay dying last month, Henry Wallace wrote a last letter to a 16-year-old grandson in Colorado. "I like your appreciation of the mountains," he said. "They are made for your nose and my nose, for your eyes and my eyes. There are so many new experiences in life. Life is a serious thing for some people, but it can also be joyous if lived with common sense."
Henry Agard Wallace's life was not a singularly joyous one. Nor, despite exceptional intelligence and roots planted deep in Iowa...
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