Agnes Came Home Early from Ireland and Found Her Grandson Locked Out of Her Tulsa House
As I pulled into a space by the garden center, I saw a bright orange state van parked at the curb near the lumber yard exit.
Four people in high-visibility vests were walking the fence line with yellow trash grabbers and heavy black bags.
Jaclyn was standing by the chain-link fence near the tractor display.
Her long hair was pulled back in a plain knot, and she wore scuffed work boots caked in dry gray dirt.
She bent down with her metal grabber to pick a flattened aluminum can out of the gravel.
She didn’t look up as cars pulled into the lot.
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