He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the Levis factory closed, he’d been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. …
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By Joe Edwards
That first afternoon, when I came downstairs from my third floor classroom and put my hand in my mailbox, I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
The check I expected and badly needed wasn't there.
When I turned around and asked the school secretary what happened, she informed me that the teachers weren't paid until the end of the month. This was a problem. I had four dollars in my wallet, and the end of the month was a whole month away.