By Wayne Allensworth The picture remains embedded in my memory. An old man — my paternal grandfather — touching a name carved into a stone wall. The wall was a monument erected to honor fallen servicemen from Houston. It was early summer and hot, as sticky hot as it gets down there. It was the only time I ever saw him get emotional about the loss of his oldest son, my namesake, in a time that was...
Before I Sleep (Summer Dreams)
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