It is a simple story yet all of life is in the telling. My brother Jim and I were born in a small Southern town in the Southwest corner of Georgia. In the springtime large magnolia trees blossomed sprinkling the neighborhoods with their lovely white bouquets. Yellow daffodils filled the air with their sanguine fragrance. The summers brought Spanish moss that hung high from large oak trees and swayed in the summer breezes. We walked barefoot skipping...