Looking at it from across the street, it certainly looked like a family house. One that had seen children laugh, cry, grow up and leave. High walls wi...h a tall red gate concealed a two story house with a balcony overlooking a long driveway. I began to muse about how that driveway must have been the scene of many a game of hide and seek, or war, or whatever odd games kids concoct to kill time. The midnight air was chilly and I began to grow impatient. Faint hints of muddled baselines and. “Brother, have we met?”I shook his hand back. “I don’t believe so, Brother. My name is Ricky Stacks and I’m not from around here.”“Huh. Well, perhaps you’re visiting relatives hereabouts? You sure look familiar, like I’ve met your Daddy.”A couple of men, deacons of the church, I would bet, came over to see who the stranger was that was blocking the line out of church and keeping them from their Sunday dinners.I chuckled. “Not that I know, Brother. I’m from California and I’m traveling on. More

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