It happened right outside of Cookeville (TN), in the Summer of 1977. Didn’t mean much at the time and later on, when it did, figured nobody would believe me.
The pickup had broke down. On a good day it took eight hours to get from Welch to Dickson, but now there could be no telling what time we’d arrive at Mamma Bertie’s house. Wanted to see my cousins. Daddy sent me to hitchhike to the next filling station. Said he’d better tend to the truck. God damn lazy if you ask me.Read the rest of this entry