In the summers when I was a kid in the 1970s, I would work for my father bailing hay. I always carried a little transistor radio…
I’d stop for lunch at midday, park the tractor under a tree for shade, eat my food, and listen to Paul Harvey. Hearing his voice today transports me back to the balmy summers of my childhood when my parents, brother, grandmothers, aunts, and uncles were all still alive and well. My heart longs for those days.