Editors' Note -- This story dates back to a lazy Saturday in 2005. With an unquenchable thirst, I made my way to the local watering hole where I encountered what appeared to be a sad, lonely, broken down man. Little did I know that he had a story to tell, and so much to teach me. Over the corresponding weeks and months, I continued to see see him out and about, engaging him in conversations that I would quickly go home and put to paper. This is the kind of stuff that you can't make up.
His name is Mike, and this is his story.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
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