Letter: Thinking about the past
One bright snowy morning, years ago, I bumped into the late Pete Luhn at the Conoco. It was hard not to be happy with all that sun and fresh snow. Our mechanical problems, the price of fuel and even Pete’s cancer did not seem to matter, for at the moment, we were above ground and the world was new again. We didn’t have one of those subterranean jobs washing soiled linens while being bathed in exhaust fumes from the adjacent parking garage. Town wasn’t choked with tourists and Main Street wasn’t backed all the way up to the loading zone at the Jerome.
I started thinking about Pete and some the other cantankerous and vitriolic characters from the past. Pete had a place out by Difficult. He was somewhat cynical and wary of development, so when I heard that he’d been forced out of his home and left to die far away, I was saddened and shocked. There was some fine print that he’d overlooked in his contract with the developer that promised to let him stay on the property for the rest of his life.
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