“You have to have a cheesesteak,” Marc says emphatically. His eyes widened with excitement, sparkling from the memory. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table, miles away from Philadelphia in his Detroit home. “You have to get it from Pat’s, that’s the only place you should go,” Read more…
Sunday night, I stopped in a gas station in a small town in Illinois to pick up ice. The man in front of me was rather unassuming, probably about 5’8” with tanned skin, cropped hair, jeans and a black sweatshirt. Someone I normally wouldn’t have looked at twice, except — Read more…
Over Labor Day weekend, I was in a small town on the Kentucky/Illinois border called Paducah, staying in a free campsite about 30 minutes outside of town in a small state park/forest area. The first night was uneventful, I worked in town during the day, stopped by a bar that Read more…