June 1, 1952, my room is dark, and I’ve been awake half an hour when Dad comes in and needlessly asks “Ready?”
It was our first time he and I went squirrel hunting together.
We drive two miles east of town to where the road parallels Coal Creek before pulling off.
Stay connected to the stories and events that make your community a special place to call home.
New subscribers only. You can cancel at any time.