Holding on and letting go — the old fountain pen writes of connectedness, collaboration and shared promises
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FALLS CHURCH, Va. — When I was in Junior High School my parents and I had a yearly ritual beginning with the first September of the Seventh Grade. I got to pick out a new Esterbrook fountain pen. Learning to fill it with ink, the blue black river of unshaped words, was a thrill I obviously have not forgotten. Just me, and a blank piece of paper, and my pen working together to find out what I was thinking about.