Chapter 12: A Walk in the Park
Laughlin Park had been part of Fawcettville for more than a hundred years. It was a lovely parcel of land, with a long, winding path that meandered through wooded copses of maple, elm, and pine that stood atop a hill overlooking our town, the Ohio River, and beyond, the hills of West Virginia. There were a few picnic shelters scattered around its grassy open spaces, a small amphitheater for summer band concerts, and even a public swimming pool, where children and teenagers like my niece, Grace, hung out in the summer.
Today, Maisie and I walked the circumference of the park, a distance of about two miles, and now were taking a breather on a bench overlooking the river. The day was crisp, clear, and cold, and the river looked like a living thing, greenish-br
