Published by admin on Thu, 01/30/2020 - 9:17am
It was Thanksgiving Day, a light snow falling, my belly still bursting and with uncertainty of what I might find filling my mind. My 5-year-old son and I were walking a dirt road of unknown length into what used to be the town of Spokane near Custer State Park.
Snow has a tendency to deaden sound. Even though my son had just awakened from a nap, he was his usual talkative self. Still, when we entered the clearing where the caretaker’s house sullenly sits in Spokane, it felt like a hush came over the scene.