The First Light of Liberty
I. The foreman stood at the gate with a clipboard and a look that said he had delivered this message a hundred times and would deliver it a hundred more. Marcus Johnson watched the other men file out of the steel mill, shoulders hunched against the wind that cut down from Lake Michigan like a blade. "Time's up, boys," the foreman said, not unkindly, which made it worse. "Plant's closed. Go...
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