RLP story, Part I

The first time I saw this picture I was shocked to realize that my grandfather had been handsome once upon a time. With his hair, that skin, and those exotic features, he could be on the cover of Gentlemen's Quarterly next month.

But of course, he wasn't on the cover of any magazines. My grandfather was a country man, hard and uneducated. He was not sophisticated in any way that you or I might recognize, though I imagine he could teach us a thing or two. And the life he lived soon turned those smooth, young features into something older, something rougher, something like worn leather.

Real Live Preacher posts Part I of another story.
We don't get the read the rest til the weekend.
He dropped a tickler a couple of weeks ago...

I'm in the middle of a new Real Live Preacher dramatized story called, Where Is The Man? I'm also beginning a thing that might be hard for my mother, but will be tender and sweet despite the title. I think it might be called, My Own Papaw Was a Racist. I know it sounds mean and hard, but it won't be. I don't think it will be. If it is I'll throw it back into the place where ideas are born and let it grow a little more.

I'm glad he thought of a better title. That one seems harsh. And it gives too much away. The way he's doing it has a more Hallmark quality. I like that line "...throw it back into the place where ideas are born and let it grow a little more."