Dear Friends,

The rolling, winding gravel roads of Warren County are as beautiful as any I’ve walked. At one bend in the road, there’s a small farm stand selling pumpkins, eggs, peppers, and various baked goods.

No one attends the stand, but there’s a sign indicating how much each item costs, and a box marked “Pay Here.”

As I’m surveying the stand’s offerings, trying to decide between a bag of cookies and a cinnamon roll, a battered Jeep pulls up.

The driver says, “Hey, can you pull me a dozen eggs out of the cooler and put this cash in that box?”

“Of course!” I say.

The guy hands me five bucks. He tells me he’s disabled so it’s tough for him to get in and out of his Jeep. He suffered an injury earlier this year, and recovery has been slow.

I hand him his eggs and opt for a bag of cookies, dropping five bucks in the box on top of my friend’s five bucks.

I say “friend” because the two of us hit it off right away. He doesn’t want his name used, so I’ll go with Gary.

Gary’s not in a hurry. Neither am I. He’s a former Marine, and he tells me about his time in the service. He’s very proud of his son, who’s also a Marine. His son’s even performing the same job that Gary did when he served.

He’s curious why I’m walking. “Oh, I’m just trying to save democracy from authoritarianism,” I tell him.

Gary nods in agreement. He’s appalled at much of what President Trump is doing. He just heard the news about the demolition of the East Wing of the White House. He can’t believe any president would do such a thing.

We talk about Trump’s decision to blow up boats in the Caribbean, killing all passengers on board. Gary’s solidly against such aggression, and says we need more diplomacy and less war.

In addition to his time in the Marines, he’s a gun owner. “But I’m careful. I keep my guns safe under lock and key,” he says.

As I prepare to continue my walk, Gary cautions me. “About a half mile down the road, you’ll see a house on the left. Be careful of that guy,” he warns.

I’m a little concerned. “Why? Is he dangerous?”

“Nah, he’s just pretty right-wing. He’ll talk your ear off and you’ll never get to where you’re going,” he says.

I laugh as I say goodbye and head down the road. When I come to the home of the guy Gary “warned” me about, I intend to knock on the door and take my chances on where the conversation might go. But there’s no vehicle in the driveway, and it’s clear the owner’s not home.

As I try to decide whether I’m relieved or disappointed, I settle on “neither.” I remember my recent purchase and dig into my bag of cookies.

— Ed Fallon