It was a cloudy, wet, day, in May 1986 for the last wedding. Like so many raised on the Oregon coast, a cloudy, wet, day, is good luck no matter where you are. Everything was done, everything set in Sandy, from rented morning coats to a rented preacher. The preacher was a second choice. We met the first guy in his church spewing fire and brimstone, which is his right, but also calling Portland Sodom and Gomorrah. I wasn’t as tuned to the Bible a…
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