The highway is alive tonight
Where it’s headed everybody knows
“The Ghost of Tom Joad” by Bruce Springsteen

The heat of midday wafted off Washington Street, stirred up some dust from the side of the two-lane road, and fluttered some napkins on one of the tables. Christopher Hatfield sat slouched in one of the wood-slat chairs, across from a nearly full glass of amber-colored German lager that had been left by a previous customer. The customer had abruptly departed without paying.

“Hatfield, get your boney ass back to work,” his boss, Mike Jackson called to him from the Campfire Tavern entrance.

Chris Hatfield sighed and …

Read original blog post