There was a man in Cleveland...
He was an older man with some kind of European acent, German, maybe; he was a retired painter, or so I heard, who had lived a long and worldly life. Then, the story went, he got God. When I was there, in college, he was a Regular around the Lagoon that reflects the Cleveland Art Museum, and its busted bronze of Rodin's Thinker--one of the original eight or so that the sculptor made (which some lack-wit revolutionary stuffed with dynamite one night in 1970. I, a freshman living a mile or so away... Sign in to see full entry.