I was putting together a slideshow of pictures for my daughter’s wedding, photos spanning every chapter of her life since she arrived, all pepper and hot sauce, 24 years ago, and I realized what I probably already knew.

When I was growing up, about half-a-mile from my house and just at the bottom of a really good biking hill lived our family friend and neighbor, Freda Johnston.

I can’t remember what David was buying – irrigation pipe, feed, tractor parts, it doesn’t matter. He was buying something that required cash (or at least a check) on the barrel, and so he had taken the farm checkbook with him.