Stories Along the Way

Years ago, my father would urge me to accompany him to the side porch of our home in order to tell me stories of happenings in his life while he was growing up. It was usually after the family evening meal and he would sit in his rocking chair, light up a cigar and begin one or two of his true stories. He never wrote down any of the stories he told me, but he was a master storyteller. I believe I...