A stitched name on a work shirt once carried standing in town. The country lost something when building and fixing got treated like a consolation prize.
There Was a Time When a Trade Was Something to Be Proud Of |
A stitched name on a work shirt once carried standing in town. The country lost something when building and fixing got treated like a consolation prize. |
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News for the America we remember |
Before daylight had fully settled over the block, a pickup with a ladder rack rolled slow past the curb and backed into the drive with a soft crunch of gravel. The side window was down even in the cold. A country station hissed low through the dash speaker. In the bed sat a red Ridgid toolbox, a coil of Romex, a scarred leather belt heavy with side cutters and linesman pliers, and a metal thermos that had already done half its duty. |
When the driver stepped out, the porch light caught the name stitched over his chest in blue thread. It was the same name painted on the side of the truck. He was headed to a school addition on the east side of town, and three houses on that street knew him by first name because he had fixed a panel, reset a water heater connection, and helped a widow get her porch light working again before winter. |
There was a time when that kind of man stood easy in the neighborhood. |
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The most controversial market event in Wall Street history is about to happen sponsored |
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