At six o’clock sharp, vehicle headlights cut through the fog along the main road.

An old red pickup truck with rusted fenders slowed down, pulled onto the gravel shoulder, and parked near the edge of Dad’s property.

Two more trucks followed immediately after, a white Chevy and a blue Dodge with a cracked windshield, parking neatly behind the red truck.

Then came a compact sedan, followed by a station wagon, a rusty Buick, and a minivan displaying a handicap parking permit.

They kept arriving one after another, forming a long line of parked vehicles along the road.