I have an even weirder story: when my daughter was looking for potential undergrad teachers several people recommended a retired, but still teaching violinist who had been in a famous quartet. She was told the way to reach him was to put a handwritten letter into his mailbox at the conservatory. She had this on good authority: his son, also a famous violinist in another quartet was her precollege coach. She never heard back. A full year later she was asleep in her dorm room at [redacted] that very conservatory where she was happily studying with a different teacher. It was the elderly violinist, who had just collected his mail. What ensued was a completely confusing conversation for both of them because her letter to him was dated “November xx, 20XX” and now it was one year and one week later…He thought he was promptly answering and she was completely thrown to hear from him more than a year later…