When I was young, I felt like a captive locomotive. Time didn’t move fast enough for me. I couldn’t satiate my young appetite for the world that waited beyond my rural landscape. Part of my childhood was spent here in Henry County.
My father and my two sisters lived in Lockport. We had chickens, two turkeys — Tom and Jezebel — and enough farmland for my stepbrother and I to have the idyllic adventures typical of rural America boys. We didn’t have running water or cable television, but we didn’t need them.
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