This summer, living in
Gettysburg, I walk past a wayside marker just about every day.
That in itself isn’t particularly unusual — like many historic downtowns, you could while away hours reading the signs. Nor is the delightful prospect of walking just about everywhere — not only am I being ever so green, I get the added benefit of saving people from the certain homicidal rages engendered while waiting for me to parallel park in a tourist area — not a pretty prospect!
The marker in...
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