Greed took the sycamore that had my initials carved 40 feet off the ground. Greed took the log barn where I brushed horses, cleaned stalls and loved colts. It leveled the house where I grew up -- its core was a log house built when my great-grandfather homesteaded there. Greed bulldozed and leveled the would-be railroad bed where my great-grandfather and his sons stood with guns and told the RR: "No. Go south by the river, not here!"

You touched a nerve here, too, my MudKat friend.

Giac,
who can't go home because home got up and walked away in disgust.