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I knew something was odd when I walked over the Wabash Bridge and saw this:
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Hmm, a message? Let's check in with George, shall we?
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Flash forward to April 2011, I had taken a another trip to Fort Wayne, In. and was planning on another trip around Labor Day. I had planned on sitting down and picking some re-enactor's brains, and had found an event put on by the Northwest Territory Alliance at Fort Ouiatenon. I emailed and got a reply that If I was really serious, I should come to Vincennes on Memorial Day. So I did.
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The basic plot came to me on the flights back to California. And it turned out to be providential I did that trip, since I lost my job in August of that year, and found myself in Albany, New York, and trying to care for my elderly mother by moving her to Memphis, Tennessee. Still, I managed to make about six chapters before I made a mess of it and this guy came along:
But that's another story. When Elvis gave me writer's block, I came back to George and found a way to untangle my mess. But that's a story for another day.Unless Google decides I'm a spambot for all my links.
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