And now, to the river

Well, my little venture into the past is over, for now; I'm ready for the festival to begin. I'll complete this older story as facts become available, as other stories get told, either in these pages or in some other form. Right now, it's time to get grandpa's banjo out of the case, brew up some 90 proof coffee and see if I can get Scott Summers to park his fiddle down near my little spot on the banks of the Walnut River, just on the edge of Winfield, right down the road from paradise.

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