He Had Less Time Left, So He Chose People Over a Heat Pump
He had my number written on a strip of masking tape inside the cabinet door, right above the coffee cups, and it was the only number on there. It was the first hard cold morning in November, the kind where the stock tanks skim over and everybody in Kingfisher County finds out at the same time whether the furnace still works. His didn't. Brick ranch out past the blacktop, built in the sixties, same owner the whole time. He's in his eighties. His wife had been gone a few years. I'll say up front that he's a composite. I've met this man many times in 47 years, in a lot of different kitchens. The…
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