This must be the place: ‘Love lost, such a cost, give me things that don’t get lost’
This afternoon, when I walked into my publisher’s office here in Waynesville, I sat down to catch up with him about nothing and everything, the holidays and how things are on the home-front of our respective lives. After some friendly banter, he handed me a small envelope. It was a handwritten note from his 90-year-old father-in-law, Bill, who lives on the other side of the state.