Finding Vicki McCoy

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So I’m spending the day in front of my laptop, making one call after another after another. And about three minutes ago I took a quick bathroom break.

Before heading for the john I scanned my bookshelf to find something to take my attention away from research, research, research. I wound up grabbing the selection pictured above—a tattered, beaten-up paperback edition of Lorraine Hansberry’s “A Raisin in the Sun.”

I’m not entirely sure why I have the book, or where it came from. But it’s here, and it’s smelly, and it’s small, and it’s weathered, and as I headed toward my destination I flipped to the inside back cover and saw this gem …

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Here’s how my brain processes this sort of information …

A. Wow!

B. I need to find her!

C. It’d be cool to randomly send her this book.

D. But it’s such a common name.

E. I hope she’s not dead.

F. Maybe she’s dead.

G. I hope not.

H. Google! Google! Google!

The search is on. Stay tuned.