The Anthrax Letters: The Attacks That Shocked America Read Free Page B

United States. Casey, the youngest of their four children—the other three were from previous marriages—was “the apple of his eye,” Maureen would say. At 21, Casey had recently found a position as an actuary in Charlotte, and her parents were thrilled to see how well she had settled in. Laughs, jokes, and hugs, long a mainstay of Bob’s life, were abundant between father and daughter. The day after they visited the park, they strolled around downtown Charlotte. The weather was windy and chilly, and they spent much of the time in an indoor mall before lunching at an Irish pub. Bob had a penchant for pubs. He frequently stopped for lunch at the Lion and Eagle in Boca Raton or the Blue Anchor in Delray Beach. Both had a clientele of English expatriates like himself. Smoked salmon on brown bread, a pint of Harp, and trading jokes with friends were a favorite way to break the day.
    After seeing the office building where Casey worked, they drove back to her apartment. It was late afternoon, and Bob felt uncharacteristically tired. A biking and hiking enthusiast, he was usually brimming with energy. But now he felt he had to rest while his wife and daughter went shopping. He wanted to be in good shape for the next day’s trip to Durham, where he would be meeting Casey’s boyfriend, a student at Duke University. Maureen and Casey returned to the apartment at 7:30 p.m. for a dinner of warmed-up leftovers. Bob joined them but, still fatigued, went to bed soon after.
    The next morning, Sunday, Bob seemed better, and after Maureen and Casey returned from church they set out for Durham. But midway through the 2½-hour drive, he began to shiver and shake. They stopped so he could climb into the back seat. “Your face is red,” Maureen observed. Casey began to worry. “Dad, let’s turn around and go home.” “No, no,” Bob insisted, “I’m not going to spoil your day.”
    Casey’s boyfriend greeted them at his fraternity house and, when he saw how badly Bob was feeling, took him up to one of the bedrooms to lie down while the others went out for lunch. When they returned at 3:30, Bob was still weak and feverish, so he, Maureen, and Casey decided to go back to Charlotte right away. As they passed the university hospital, Casey and Maureen urged him to stop at the emergency room. He refused, and he continued to refuse as they passed other hospitals and clinics on the return trip. Bob fidgeted in the backseat, alternately sitting and lying down. Sighing frequently, he tilted his head back, saying it helped him breathe more easily. After arriving at Casey’s, he nibbled at dinner, said he wanted to leave for home the next morning, and went to bed. Maureen and Casey stayed up talking and worrying before themselves going to sleep.
    When Maureen awoke she saw that Bob’s pillow was soaked with perspiration, but he said he felt all right. They packed the car, hugged Casey goodbye, and were on the road by 6 a.m. Bob insisted on taking the wheel and Maureen agreed to navigate. Sipping frequently from a bottle of water seemed to help Bob recover energy. They stopped once for a brief rest and then for gasoline near Jacksonville, about 300 miles from their destination. They reached Lantana about 5 p.m., and Bob pulled the white Saturn into the driveway of their ranch-style house. After unpacking and sorting the mail, Bob had a turkey sandwich with some hot tea.
    Bob and Maureen both felt depleted and took their temperatures. Bob’s was 101, Maureen’s 102. “We’ve come down with a bug,” Maureen thought. Bob went to bed at 8 p.m., and Maureen followed a bit later. Some time after 1 a.m. she awoke to the sound of retching. Bob had vomited in the bathroom and then come back to bed. Maureen noticed that he was fully dressed. She asked him how he felt, and he responded incoherently. She was annoyed with herself for not making him see a doctor sooner. Now she insisted.
    Maureen threw on some clothes and helped Bob into the car. JFK