The Ad Man Who Wrote Himself
Donald Whitfield sat at his desk on the eighteenth floor of the Graybar Building on Lexington Avenue and stared at the blank sheet of bond paper in his IBM Selectric. The typewriter hummed with patient electricity. Through the window, the afternoon light of October 1954 fell across Grand Central Terminal in long amber planes, and somewhere below, the 5:17 to New Haven was boarding, though Don...
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