Editor’s note: The conversations featured here are the product of the author’s memory, with the intent of preserving long-held friendships with people he hopes will regain their mental equilibrium once The Donald and his cohorts vacate the White House.
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They didn’t grow up to be cowboys, thanks in large part to their mamas. They were doctors and lawyers and such, as Waylon and Willie sang about decades ago. Others were once bankers or government workers in some of the more difficult administrative jobs on the federal, state and local level.
These are my friends and family members from more than 50 years spent grinding out a paycheck in stops ranging from Delaware to Texas. People I grew to respect for many reasons as we confronted the challenges of making ends meet, raising and supporting families, and finding time to share a few beach encounters along the way…
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