Viewing posts from February, 2012
A few days ago a spry old man from the coal fields told me his story. I didn't catch his name, but let's call him Jerry.
I must have one of those faces, because people like to tell me tales. I smile, nod, and sip my coffee while they tell me how their brother allowed their mother to die of neglect, how their husband got drunk and bought an airplane, or how their ancestors ended up in West Virginia by hitching a ride on a whiskey wagon.