There was no chance that Hagen would forget. His mother had been near

Moronic and slovenly, so ridden by anemia she could not feel affection for her

children or make a pretense of it. His father Hagen had hated. His mother's

Blindness before she died had terrified him and his own eye infection had been a

Stroke of doom. He had been sure he would go blind. When his father died, Tom

Hagen's eleven-year-old mind had snapped in a curious way. He had roamed the

Streets like an animal waiting for death until the fateful day Sonny found him

Sleeping in the back of a hallway and brought him to his home. What had

Happened afterward was a miracle. But for years Hagen had had nightmares,

Dreaming he had grown to manhood blind, tapping a white cane, his blind

Children behind him tap-tapping with their little white canes as they begged in the

Streets. Some mornings when he woke the face of Don Corleone was imprinted

On his brain in that first conscious moment and he would feel safe.

But the Don had insisted that he put in three years of general law practice in

Addition to his duties for the family business. This experience had proved

invaluable later on, and also removed any doubts in Hagen's mind about working

For Don Corleone. He had then spent two years of training in the offices of a top

Firm of criminal lawyers in which the Don had some influence. It was apparent to