Back in 1979, when I was 23, I was a Yankee working as the city editor of a medium-sized daily in northeast Arkansas, in a town of about 30,000 people an hour from Memphis. After a year of my languishing under city council stories and Cub Scout news, the paper hired another reporter, a girl of 22 by the name of Gloria, fresh out of college. She drove a big white Buick LeSabre, was brilliant, and was wild as hell. We were friends instantly... (more)