By Bob Chrisman
My mother and her three sisters believed in the Law of Threes. Well, actually they believed in a “hard” law and a “soft” one. Let me explain.
The basic Law of Threes states that all bad things happen in groups of three. Only bad things, never good ones. The hard law states that if a death places the law in motion, the next two events must involve deaths. The soft law allows for a bad thing (not a death) to happen and then two more bad things, which could involve a death or two, although deaths are not required to fulfill the soft law.
I thought for the longest time that only my mother and her sisters believed in the Law of Threes, but I found out I was wrong.
A college friend called me to say that his 92-year-old mother had died. I expressed my sympathy and made all of the appropriate noises. I couldn’t help but think that his mother’s death had fulfilled the Law of Threes started by the death of another friend’s 92-year-old mother in early February and my own 92-year-old mother’s death at the end of that month—a perfect example of the Law of Threes. Inside I felt guilty for even thinking that way.
When I went to the house to pay my respects to my friend and his family, I sat on the sofa next to his youngest sister. She told me how much she would miss her mother and then paused.
“You know, Bob, I worry about the next two deaths that will follow. Who will die?”
She must have seen the look of surprise on my face because she quickly explained, “Deaths happen in threes. At least that’s what my family always said.” What a relief to know that other people believed in the Law of Threes.
“I understand,” I said. “Let me tell you my story.”
When I was little, my mother would fix my breakfast and then sit at the kitchen table and read the paper while I ate. I knew something was up when she would “Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!” before closing the paper, folding it, and heading for the phone.
“Faye, did you see where Mildred Shunkwilder died yesterday? You know her. She was in Vera’s class in high school. Yes, yes, that’s the one. She married the Sweet boy and they moved to his parents’ farm. Yes, I know. You better call Annie. I’ll call Vera. We can all keep our eyes out for numbers two and three.”
She would place the receiver of the old black phone back in the cradle and shake her head. “I wonder who the next two will be.” She would then call Aunt Vera to place her on alert.
Phone calls flew back and forth. The sisters watched the newspaper. They contacted relatives and friends for information about people from whom they had heard nothing in years. When they discovered someone else who they all knew had died, they would breathe easier yet they didn’t relax until the third death had occurred. Then life for the sisters would return to normal, for a while.
My Aunt Faye fell victim to the Law of Threes in the late 1970s. My Aunt Vera joined her group of three in the late 1990s, followed by my Aunt Annie, who died a few years later. Even as their numbers grew smaller, they carried out their death watches. Finally, my mother was left alone to keep track of the law, but by then she was in her 80s and people she knew were dying all the time.
Even when she resided in the nursing home she would greet me with the news of the latest death. “You know Herbie died, didn’t you?” Herbie was a distant cousin by marriage. His second wife lived down the hall in the same nursing home. “That’s number two. Woodie died last month.” I waited for news of who was number three. I think Emmett, another church member, completed the law a couple of months later.
Then my mother died—number two in the series of three. The Law of Threes wasn’t completed for another five months, at least as far as I knew.
My friend’s sister looked at me after I finished my story. “Would you mind if I borrowed your mother’s death and the death of your high school friend’s mother to complete my three deaths?”
I couldn’t deny her request. I gave her those deaths. You don’t want a Law of Threes—especially not a hard one—hanging open.
Bob Chrisman is a Kansas City, Missouri writer whose pieces Hands, Growing Older, Goat Ranch, and Stephenie Bit Me, Too have all appeared in red Ravine. Hands is about the death of his 92-year-old mother.
Bob, I’m relieved, too, to hear that other families have these kinds of superstitions. I had never heard of the “Law of Threes,” but coming from a supertitious family, I can completely understand how it had a hold over your mom and aunts.
I love the description of how your mom checked the newspaper—reading the obituaries, undoubtedly—did her “Tsk, tsk, tsk” and then headed to the phone to call her sisters. They (your mom and her sisters) must have created quite the orbit to be a part of as a child.
You’ve really captured well the idiosyncracies that truly make for great memoir—these unique characteristics that strike a universal chord.
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ybonesy, now that they are all dead I have a greater understanding of how strong their pull was and how it kept us all in orbit around them. The cousins have spun across the country (and even the around world) without the sisters’ gravitational pull to keep us in circling them.
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Same thing exists in my family though for famous people’s deaths only as far as I know. I never heard my mother applying to people she knew. A variation! 🙂 But yes, the Law of Threes always applies to bad things, never good ones.
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tpgoddess, maybe my mother and her sisters applied the law to common, everyday people because they didn’t know famous people. I never thought to ask. I like your family’s application of the law better.
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Bob, I agree with ybonesy — the making of good memoir. Tight writing. The last paragraphs are so tender; when you say, “I couldn’t deny her request. I gave her those deaths.” Talking about death in this way, through The Law Of Threes gives us an opening in what can sometimes be awkward or grief-filled situations. There is so much loss, yet we are still trying to make sense out of the deaths of those close to us.
I remember hearing that “all things come in threes” from my grandmother and mother. It was applied to death and bad luck. But I also remember it applied to things like pregnancies, things that weren’t all bad. My mother might remember more. I’d kind of like to ask her who taught her that things come in threes.
Also, your statement in comment #2 — now that they are all dead I have a greater understanding of how strong their pull was and how it kept us all in orbit around them. I feel that way about my mother. And I was talking to several of my siblings about that very concept when I was in Pennsylvania last summer.
Though we are all connected, there is a way that our family orbits around Mom, the matriarchy of the family. One aspect of this for me is mine and my mother’s mutual connection to the South (I’m not sure if my siblings who were born there feel that way or not). For me, she is our main connection to that part of our history.
Another aspect is the connection through different marriages and step-fathers. Mom holds much of this information, much of it gained when we were way too young to remember. Though I had always had a sense of the way Mom is a strong glue between us, it became even more noticeable to me this summer. I try not to take that for granted; it makes me appreciate her even more.
Another thing I like about your piece is the connection to your Hands piece about your mother. It gives even greater insight into the importance of that relationship.
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“Mildred Shunkwilder” — Sweet Jesus, you can’t make up a name like that. She sounds like a character about to be gored to death by a bull or shot by a Misfit in a Flannery O’Connor story. Actually, that I’m reminded of O’Connor says something about your narrative skill here.
Ironically, just last week a neighbor told me that I was due for death. You’ve been to my house, Bob, so you know we all live in connected townhouse units. About a year ago, someone died in the house directly on my left. Four months ago, someone died in the house directly across from that house. My neighbor said that the bad mojo was zigzagging its way over to my side of the court now — specifically my unit — and, “After all, bad things happen in threes.” My cat’s been ailing lately, as you know. Don’t want to lose Isaac just yet. Got another death you can give away?
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Bob,
I really enjoyed your post. I was out on the road photographing rural schoolhouses today, and stopped at a small town library to check my email. The library is a 1902 Carnegie sort, so it was a perfect location to enter the world of your mom & aunts.
When are you going to start writing your memoir? Oh, wait! I guess you already have. Is this Chapter 1?
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Flannista, Mildred Shunkwilder was, in fact, a real person. I think I spelled her name wrong though. I am pretty sure that she married a Sweet.
You can take my mother’s death and add it to your two to make three. Good thing about the law as I understand it, is you can use deaths from anywhere to fulfill the law…if you know the person who knows the person.
Teri, have my Minnesota county map matted and ready to hang on the wall next to my computer. Writing a memoir? Maybe that wiill be my project for 2009. Glad to hear that you are on the road again.
QuoinMonkey, I am sure that you have a greater appreciation for your mother after the trip this last summer. These were/are some powerful women that we know.
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Wow, this post is downright creepy and fitting for this month of October!
I’m glad to know that there are people out there who know or live their lives in some way involving superstitions! Otherwise, sometimes I think the superstitions my parents tell me since I was little are just silly or crazy. Of course, there are times when I couldn’t help but believe in them!
I guess, my family can fall under the soft law of threes. Let me explain. My mother won’t let us take photographs in groups of three people. It’s bad luck, she says, and someone may die or something bad might happen. So, whenever, we’re ready to smile for the camera and my mother happens to be there noticing that there are three of us about to pose for the camera, she’ll go right ahead and look for another person to de-three the group, even if it means including herself in the picture!
Thank you for sharing this, and yb was right, it really does feel like a memoir. That should be a writing project you can work on! 🙂 I look forward to reading it if it ever gets published! 🙂
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A~Lotus, funny you should mention the photograph thing. My Aunt Faye died earlier than all of other sisters, but sometime around there the remaining sisters dropped the custom at Xmas of each group (aunts, uncles, male cousins, female cousins) having a photo taken. One of them observed, “Every time we take just a photo of us. One of us dies.” They disregarded the photographs taken when they were all much younger. I guess death wasn’t a reality to them before they turned 50.
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Bob, sounds like there were many more superstitions among the sisters than The Law Of Threes. Are there more? I love reading about them.
The thing about death being more of a reality after 50, I think that’s the age I became much more aware that I had fewer years left than I had already lived. There is a certain urge that came to figure out what was really important to me and focus my energy there, let the rest drop. Was that true for you? Something definitely changed for me.
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Teri, thinking about you out on the road in rural Minnesota, focusing on more of the writing journey. I bet it’s beautiful this time of year. It seems like last time you were on a writing road trip, it was the dead of winter.
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QuoinMonkey, I’m sure that they held other superstitious beliefs and maybe they will come to me as I explore my memories of their lives. I can’t think of any right now.
I didn’t really face the fact of my mortality until I about age 52, that’s when my mother fell down the basement stairs and couldn’t live alone anymore. That event transformed our lives, hers especially, and was the real beginning of her end. I have thought about calling the memoir of her last 5 years on the planet, The Fall & Decline of Fannie Lucile Chrisman. To me she seemed like the Roman Empire….eternal. Like the Roman Empire, she wasn’t. So, I took the name of that famous history book (The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire) and re-worked it a little to put the sequence of events in the order they happened to her. A sort of tribute to name the memoir after such a well-known book about a major force in the history of the world.
Teri, you go, girl! I have my colored pencils ready to fill-in Minnesota counties. Take care of yourself.
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My mother always spoke of the law of threes as well. When I think of the law of threes I think of those who walk the Wiccan path who believe that any actions you may take magically will come back in threes. It, to me, is the pagan form of Christian guilt set in place to keep people in line.
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Bob, what a perfect title. I love your mother’s name. I’m looking forward to your memoir, whenever you decide to write it. Anytime I have heard your Writing Practices on your mother and that part of your life, or read the pieces you have written, I’ve been completely tuned in.
There is so much there. And you seem to remember great detail. I look forward to more as you move through the process. I’m one of those people who loves the history of the past, personal history and how it relates to the greater whole. I guess that’s why I love memoir so much.
I also like to read well-written biographies. Sometimes autobiographies can be less removed, self-focused, and more journal-like (there are times when journals can be boring writing) than the biography perspective. Memoir, for me, kind of combines the two. It’s a really alive genre of non-fiction writing.
But then fiction can reveal a lot about a writer. Remember Stoner? It was partly autobiographical in terms of place and parts of the country where the author lived or worked. It was fiction but read kind of like a memoir for me. I loved that book.
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Bob, catching up here since yesterday’s comments. Like Flannista, I was struck by the name Mildred Shunkwilder (although when I first read it, I thought it was Skunkwilder). Also, that “Sweet boy”—while editing the post, it took me a moment to understand that that was his last name. 8)
Do you ever find while writing creative nonfiction that it’s almost impossible to change the names of the real people? It’s like changing a word in a song—the narrative just doesn’t flow like it should. At least that’s my experience. (And even on this blog, that worries me, because I can just picture some of the people I’ve written about from my childhood googling their names and finding them on red Ravine and wondering, who’s writing this blog??)
A-lotus’s comment about her mom not allowing groups of three to be photographed made me wonder, what it is about 3 that is unlucky? I know 7 is lucky, and I know 13 is unlucky, but I never knew about 3.
Interesting take, goldenferi: It, to me, is the pagan form of Christian guilt set in place to keep people in line.
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Goldenferi, I’m not familiar with the Wiccan idea that whatever you do comes back to you three times over. Sometimes people who practice Wicca don’t shed all of their Christian beliefs…guilt being one of them. I do believe that whatever I send out comes back to me. That causes me to reflect on what actions I take (usually does, but not always).
ybonesy, the superstition around the number three can be traced back to World War I at least. It was believed (apparently without a factual basis) that you should never light 3 cigarettes off of one match because that gave the enemy enough time to spot the light and shoot the third person as they lit their cigarette…three of a match or third on a match. Hollywood made a movie about it.
I wonder about the name thing too. I write all of my pieces about people using their real names. If I ever submit the piece, I will change their names. I wrote a piece about a man I know from childhood who suffered a nervous breakdown during his early college years and now wanders the streets of Kansas City in a mental daze. I used his real name to write the story, but will change the name if I ever send it for publication. I think I owe him that much. Even though his story is true, I think I would market it as fiction (but then I believe that all writing is fiction…except technical writing).
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Hmmm, hadn’t thought of the Wiccan numbers in relationship but it makes a lot of sense. It’s complicated because so many of the Christian beliefs incorporate the old Wiccan beliefs (since Wicca came first). They seemed to kind of pick and choose from the old rituals, things that supported the Christian beliefs. (And then look how many good Christian families celebrate the old pagan Holiday of Halloween.)
BTW, I heard this morning that it’s the anniversary of NOW, the National Organization for Women, which I think they said was started in 1966. I make that connection because it was that movement that began to recapture the old matriarchal histories of the past that were virtually wiped out, and revived some of the heroines we talk about in the Writing Topic – Why I Vote.
Bob, why do you believe that all writing is fiction?
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Bob – I loved this. As other post-ers have said, the writing is vivid and tight. And funny, despite its dark topic. Everything you’ve written about your mother’s last years – and the flashbacks to your life with her as a child – have sunk into my memory and lived on. I hope to see the full book version at some point.
I also loved the names, the real, living names that you used. I hate changing the real names of people in my writings. I had this nurse from hell when I was in the hospital and her name was Floria. In the chapter of my book that is about the night Floria was my nurse, I’ve kept her real name. Just can’t think of another name as perfect as that.
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QuoinMonkey, we rely on our memories when we write about the past or present. Our memories are faulty. Everything we remember filters through what we knew when the event first happened and then through what we know now and who knows what other filters. We don’t remember anything as it happened. We only remember it through all these filters. It is all fiction.
Creative non-fiction troubles me because it is all “created” based on what little we know. The term “creative non-fiction” means some true stuff with lots of made up stuff included. That’s a brief explanation of why I believe that all writing is fiction (with that one exception).
Bless NOW!
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Yes, I see what you mean. Truth is a gray area. And there are different levels of “truth” which, at least to me, are defined by the genre one is writing in. When I pick up a memoir, I accept the fact that the writing will be colored by the person’s own experiences and memories. But that it will also be based on the truth as they “remember it,” and not by something they made up (James Frey comes to mind).
I think, at least for me, I have to make a distinction between the genres of fiction and creative non-fiction. In fiction, the rules have all changed in my mind — I know that most of the book will be made up (or at least the writer is saying that it’s made up) or fantasy. The names are changed, maybe the physical characteristics of people they knew. I don’t hold it to be the actual lived experience of their life.
I hold a higher standard for the “remembered truth” of creative non-fiction. There is a way that if someone says a book is about their actual life and then you find out they have lied about it, the reader feels duped. All trust of that writer is damaged, whoop!, down the tubes.
It’s a good discussion. I’d love to hear from others about how they feel about it. I love memoir for the fact that I KNOW it’s going to be colored by a person’s memories and emotions rather than, say, a book of journal writings about what’s happened to them each day over the last 5 years.
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Oh, I forgot I wanted to comment on using the real names of people in writing. I agree with everyone on this thread, that it takes something out of a piece for me if I change the names. When I’m writing on red Ravine, if the name is a common one like Mary or Liz, I’ll use it without asking. Or if I’m writing about someone from grade school (which for someone as old as me is a long, long time ago!), a teacher or friend. But I’ve rarely used last names. With Liz or family members, I ask before I use their names.
I love the name of Jude’s nurse, Floria. You just can’t make that up! I like ybonesy’s thought, too, what if someone from the past Googles themselves and their name pops up on red Ravine. What in the world will they think. (Hey, What in the world! — that’s another phrase I’ve used over the years. I should add it to the Words I Love post.)
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How about “remembered truth” instead of “creative non-fiction”? I like the honesty of the first one better. With your permission, QuoinMonkey, I will use that from now on instead of “creative non-fiction.”
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Got an email from my cousin and she asked, “Why didn’t you mention the part about someone always being pregnant when a family member died?” Quite honestly, I don’t remember that piece of family superstition. At our ages it would have to be some of the second or third cousins because we are all past our childbearing years.
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Love the “threes'” – my grandmothers (the three I knew at least) all were absolute believers in the three deaths thing. The grandmother and great-grandmother I lived with as a child would often get into long discussions about who would be the probable next to die. As in “Well, you know Aunt Edith has been coughing up a storm. Wouldn’t be surprised to get a call in the middle of the night anytime now! We just better go for a visit soon.”
They would scare me to near death myself, speculating on which relative just might sign off soon. Then they’d organize dreadful Sunday visits “just in case” and drag me along. All during these hours-long visits, I’d be watching closely to see if I could anticipate any symptoms of the soon to be deceased, and mentally play out what I should do “in case something happened.”
Wow, what powerful memories you’ve provoked – a true sign of great connection writing.
And as for the three lights off a match superstition, I read about that just recently. The writer, while agreeing a lit match for any length of time was a dangerous move in a foxhole, also mentioned the tale was originated by a match company. Seems you sell more matches if you only light one cigarette with each one. Don’t know the authenticity of this, but it certainly is a plausible explanation. Anything to sell a match, you know!
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I’m still a little stunned over how good this piece is. How clear, how vivid – I think Nat would say that its very alive. You rock, buddy. Your writing just keeps getting better and better and better.
The law of threes is only one of the many wacky things that I was brought up to believe. I think I still sort of look around when there’s a death, waiting in dread for two and three. Its so cool that you brought that up to a conscious level – and very funny too.
I hesitate to let everyone in on this secret, but as a technical writer for the better part of the past 20 years, I can tell you that a lot of technical writing is fiction. I’ve written entire books for software that never worked AT ALL. Forget about all the data sheets and technical overviews I’ve done that referenced features that didn’t actually make it into the product, and installation guides that were actually humorous when compared to actual installation. Not every technical document that I’ve produced was based on a lie or a fantasy, but a much larger percentage than you’d probably imagine. Its quite a challenge writing a technical document for a product that doesn’t exist yet, but technical writers all over the planet are working on these types of existential projects at this very minute.
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Westista,
I’m shocked about what you revealed about tech writers and it being fiction. That sounds like a compelling article. It took me back to the 9th grade when I learned that what you read in newspapers isn’t necessarily true. I was a late bloomer…
Bob, loved your essay! I just wanted to keep reading about the aunts, your mother, their conversations. I had goosebumps- a sign of real truth coming through.
I was in a 4th grade writing class today teaching about the magic of three in terms of creating suspense for the reader. I read a children’s book called, My Lucky Day, about a hungry wolf and a cunning (also hungry) pig.
Alicia, the classroom teacher, gave an intro and mentioned that in life twists and turns often come in threes…good things and bad. I immediately thought of your piece. Superstitions grow exponentially, don’t they?
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Laura, superstitions do grow exponentially. I wonder how many we each have created in our lives. Good to have you check in.
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[…] other red Ravine posts include Growing Older, Goat Ranch, Stephenie Bit Me, Too, and The Law Of Threes. Possibly related posts: (automatically […]
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[…] The Law Of Threes by Bob Chrisman […]
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Bob, back when you wrote this essay, I called my parents’ house to ask if they knew of the Law of Threes. I got my dad that day, who said, Nah, he hadn’t known of it.
Well, last night and today I went with my mom to a rosary mass and funeral services for my mother’s best friend, who also is my godmother. She was a wonderful woman, strong in spirit but frail in body. We were so very sad to lose her. And then on Saturday, a cousin of mine was also buried. She had died after living a life filled with so much pain and difficulty.
So at some point, last night and then again today, Mom said, “I wonder who will be the third.” I couldn’t believe I heard that and immediately jumped on it… “What do you mean…’Who’s third?’??” She explained that death comes in threes.
I told her about your essay and how I’d called Dad. “Yes, Mama (that’s what my mom calls her mom) always believed that death happened in threes.” Mom said that at my cousin’s funeral, Mom mentioned to another cousin, “Well, I wonder who’s next.” Mom and I laughed because we realized that this other cousin might not have realized what Mom was referring to.
So, I learn something new, unfortunately through these sad events. But isn’t it always the case that the death of a loved one has a way of bringing family and friends together—I talked to people today who I’ve hard seen much less talked to for 40 years! Death gives us that silver lining.
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YB,
All of us oldster’s have heard of the three’s. When I was young it was also said for every death there is a birth and around the time QM was born I lost two grandfathers and a brother. At the same time we had three births in the family. QM and my two cousins had babies.. It’s a scary thought but things like that happen so often. A
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ybonesy, that’s so great that you perked up when your Mom said, “I wonder who the 3rd will be?” It’s interesting how your Dad wasn’t raised that way, but he knew that your mother always believed that, too.
MOM, see, I learned something new, too, from ybonesy commenting on this post again. You may have told me before, but I hadn’t remembered that you lost two grandfathers at the same time as Uncle Jack. Then the three births right after that. I do remember thinking that it must have been a sad time when I was born because of Uncle Jack drowning that same month. But when I asked you, you said something like, “No Honey, everyone was overjoyed when you were born. It was a blessing.” It’s a reminder that birth and death are completely linked together — and something that we all will experience, regardless of all the other differences in our lives. I’m reminded, too, that you often have dreams about the next family pregnancy before others know about it. An uncanny ability.
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