Elmira, 1974 I was ten, and we were halfway up the hill before I knew we shouldn’t be. Mama laughing in the wind, “ Just a little farther ,” she said.
A rumor can outrun a man’s own footsteps, yet it’s the living breath of truth that finally catches up. I read Nathaniel Hawthorne ’s “ Mr. Higginbotham’s Catastrophe ” this morning. And though it isn’t one of the stories folks usually brag about reading, it’s got a certain hometown flavor to it, the kind of tale you might hear from an older neighbor leaning against his truck in the driveway, telling you a story he swears is true even though the details keep sliding around on him.