Back of the Bus: Flow

When I was a kid, my dad started feeling homesick. We were living in South Florida at the time, and his dad, my granddad, was living with my aunt and uncle in Clinton, IA, right along the banks of the Mississippi. He’d had a nasty stroke about a decade prior, and we were never really sure how much time he had left. We’d also lost my grandma a few years prior due to lung cancer, so it was already a bit hard dealing with that, especially being so far away from everyone else…

So, he talked my mom into moving to a little farmhouse a couple of miles outside this tiny little town called Olin, about 15 miles away from the nearest place that would show up on a map (Anamosa) and 40 miles from the closest city anyone has ever heard of (Cedar Rapids). He got a couple of jobs running youth ministry for local churches, and my mom found a position as a band director.

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