Chariots of Conscience

I stepped aboard the chartered bus and sat in a comfortable reclining cloth seat with a pull-down footrest. It looked no different than thousands of other Greyhound buses in the 1960’s. A gleaming silver box with sleek greyhounds painted on both sides that soon would be driven by a driver who was greeting entering passengers with a smile. What I didn’t realize was in twenty-five minutes, this bus would begin a journey that would change the lives of its passengers and the soul of the country.

Cowboying Up!

When my wife suggested that we go to a guest ranch for our wedding anniversary, I could see no way out. For years Wendy had been making the same suggestion, and for years circumstances had always (fortunately) intervened. This year, alas, there wasn't an excuse in sight. Worse, our son was attending a college within 2 hours of 15 different Arizona guest ranches. It was hopeless. I was fated to spend 4 days with wannabe cowboys dressed in sequined shirts and pointy-toed boots.