Hello, Wendell Berry, Abraham Lincoln, John Muir, and even you, Jefferson Davis.
In what was a defining day for the United States, we drove from Charleston, West Virginia, to Cadiz, Kentucky. We stopped briefly in Lexington, where I was a student athletic trainer for UK football and wrestling for three years long ago; visited Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace; drove the rough route John Muir walked during his Thousand-Mile Walk, and we stumbled upon one of those educational roadside attractions.
Lexington has changed drastically from my years here in the early Eighties. It’s a city that has spread her arms, and now the wealth is no longer just seen in the historic horse farms.
We stopped briefly at the football stadium, where I used to work. Our football team was the worst in the nation with a 0-10-1 record. We were run over by the good (Hershel Walker’s Georgia Bulldogs) and the bad teams. It was Jerry Claiborne’s first year as coach. Over the next two years, we played in college bowl games…
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