I was born in Roanoke, Virginia, but when I was around 11 or 12 years old, sometime in 1978, my family had a small weekend cabin on the Bedford side of Smith Mountain Lake. Our cabin sat on a quiet cove—lake to the left, forest and open land to the right. One hot July afternoon,…
The story begins long ago, in a time when the Ohio River was a bustling artery for traders and travelers. A small group of men, likely merchants, had tied their modest boat to the riverbank for the night, confident they were safe from the dangers that plagued early frontier life. They were wrong. Under the…
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