“That Bank Closed in the ’80s,” My Father Scoffed—The Account Was Very Much Still There

one who visited Grandpa Chester. It started when I was twenty-one, just after I finished my apprenticeship. I was driving past his neighborhood and thought, why not? Those few minutes turned into three hours of sitting on his porch drinking lemonade, talking about everything and nothing. When I left that evening, he grabbed my hand and held it. “You continue reading …