It had a gravel and grass parking lot, a perpetual haze of cigarette smoke, and an all-age cast of regulars you could easily have built a sitcom around. something that, when I read it, I immediately heard myself sharing it with you this morning.įor me it was The Common Ground in Ithaca, NY, a magnificently seedy roadhouse several miles outside of town. So part of me is hesitant to speak of it this morning … hasn’t there been enough already? And part of me feels compelled to speak of it this morning because there is yet more work for us to do, and because when I read this piece by Quinn Caldwell last Tuesday morning, I knew I had come upon something else altogether. There’s been an unending flow of news, stories, analysis, tears, photos, facebook posts, conversations, ever since the news broke of the shooting in Orlando last Saturday night.
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