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Several years ago I vacationed in southern Florida. Thousands of people were there relaxing and seeking a good time. One night, while walking down one of the brightly lit streets in Naples, I passed a Western Union office. It was deserted except for the clerk and a woman. She had a telegram in her hand and was crying her heart out. It reminded me that even in the land of good times and seas breezes, hearts can still be broken.
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