Neil O. Nelson

A friend claims the town where I first worked as an editor hasn’t been the same since I left.

High praise, I humbly admit.

Anyway, a friend of a friend recalled an incident that happened there as proof.

“Something like that hasn’t occurred since you left.”

I’ve told this story before, but I’m told it’s worth retelling.

Anyway, I liked the town, a small, close-knit Norwegian community, and everyone there seemed to like me. I was young, single, lacking direction but of good character, I was told.

“He comes from a good Norwegian family, you know.”

The townsfolk were God-fearing, prayerful, family oriented. They felt responsible for me, to the point where they found it necessary to look after me. They also felt they should pray for me.

“He is single, you know.”

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