Outside the Visitor Center—patrons queuing up in khaki camo shorts, baseball caps, Where Big Bucks Lie, boxes of MoonPies wheeling by—two black men with rubber gloves, with Windex, on a July Monday, polish the bronze Lincoln.
When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things I CORINTHIANS 13:11 Redaction? No, monument: a [...]
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