“Boy you all look respectable!” jumped out of my mouth and through the rolled-down Buick window. That’s brave talk for a man walking a mule down Route 64 on a Sunday. A sweaty, hungry, unshaven man at that.

But the man in the Sunday suit smiled and reached his hand across his wife to shake mine. “John McKnight’s my name and this is Martha.” They were clearly on the way to church in a Buick that was way, way newer… Continue reading →