Dear Colonel Powell: Despite the rapid succession of events in the Denver to Washington to Gettysburg trip, General Snyder tells me that I have had nothing but normal, and therefore good, reactions--a bit of intelligence I feel I must immediately communicate to my staff of Fitzsimons doctors.1 While I am, of course, delighted to be "home," I confess to a strong feeling of nostalgia for the Eighth Floor and a reluctance, which I hope is common to released patients, to accept again some of the responsibility for my own activities.2 As a matter of fact, I am beginning to suspect that all of you spoiled me during the last seven weeks and, even worse, that I liked it.
If there is little in my physical condition of interest to you, I can at least report that as of the last two days the worst fears of the press corps and some of my staff have been realized. The weather is murky, damp and cold--and there is none of that beautiful and beneficent Colorado sun. I have even heard aspersions cast on the gentle rolling hills of Pennsylvania and complaints that there are no snow-covered mountains on the horizon.
Of course Mrs. Eisenhower is delighted to be home, and I am renewing my acquaintance with the animals on the farm, and particularly with the small Angus herd that is my pride.3 This week we are trying to keep official business to a minimum, but I am at least tentatively (dependent upon Colonel Mattingly's verdict) counting on having a meeting of the National Security Council and of the Cabinet early next week.4
I hope you are getting a part of the vacation you so badly needed after your uninterrupted seven week stint. As I have tried inadequately to tell you, I shall always be grateful for your devoted and competent care of a patient who was apparently much sicker than he realized.
Won't you please give my warm regard to Mrs. Powell and to all the members of the Eighth Floor contingent, and, as always, my best to yourself.5 As ever
