What the Dust Knew
The land did not remember the hands that had broken it. It remembered the plow. The plow was a McCormick-Deering No. 6, purchased new in the spring of 1928, when the sky was still blue and the soil was still black and a man named Luther Tolliver had believed, with the full force of his thirty-two years, that the earth would yield what he asked of it. The plow had cut the first furrow on a...
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