They Doubted His Pine Trees Until Nineteen Eighty Eight Proved Him Right

and more about what the storm had shown. Buck’s open pasture had lost soil in ribbons. Tom’s north pasture had held. The pines were dirty and battered, but they stood.

At church that Sunday, Mrs. Danvers, the same woman who had laughed at the county fair jar of pine needles, approached Tom near the steps.

“Tom, my son bought that eighty acres south of continue reading …