The green metal file box was about the size and shape of an ammunition case.
It was scuffed and serious-looking and packed tight with personal letters and papers that had belonged to my grandfather, who died in 1989. The line in the family had always been that he “did intelligence work in Washington after the war.” This file box gave up a better story: My grandfather was an operations officer with the C.I.A. from January 1948 to August 1951. But that revelation brought up another question: Why only three years? (more)