Fifty-two years ago the sights along Route 66 set my little-boy eyes aglow, while my dad kept his eyes fixed on the road that was taking us to California. Neither the first nor the last, we’d hit the road on a quest for opportunity out west, a new chance to take our best shot at building a better life. Seemed like that was what the country was all about: for an honest day’s work a man got an honest day’s pay, no doubt— at least, we never doubted it. So when the Russians shot that Sputnik into space and Eisenhower … Continue reading A Stranger in My Native Land