“The FBI came back a second time, a year later, to tell me that Mike had now achieved the status of “Federal Fugitive,” and if I gave him “Shelter or Comfort” I would myself be committing a federal offense. At that point some atavistic conditioning kicked in, some story my grandfather told long ago in the Bronx, and I flipped into genuine rage. I backed those two guys down the hallway and down the stairs, while I yelled at them that the laws of hospitality were older than the laws of the United States of America, and that by God, if anyone came to my door seeking shelter or comfort, they would certainly get it.”
