I promised Gator that I would write about him.
His real name is Mike, and he lives in the woods in a camp with some other people.
I only met him briefly, which is par for the course for reporters. We get to know people long enough to get what we need for a story, but often not long enough to care.
I’m talking about myself here, and the truth is I’m not proud of it. But I’m telling you this because God’s been chipping away at my uncaring, although he’s got a long way to go.
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