I didn’t really expect to run into Jesus and Mary at an Alabama rest area it 11:00 PM.
Breakfast at the Microtel in Gardendale, Alabama is a real wake-up, a brittle break from my ordinarily sheltered, stained-glass routine. Truckers with the rural, southern linguistic twang so familiar to me from childhood and adolescence have a very different perspective on current economic and political concerns than that of my midwestern, middle-class community. I’m tempted to recoil, to take my English muffin and coffee back to the quiet isolation of my room, but somehow I manage to smile at my insecurities, take a breath and enjoy the banter around me. Continue Reading