On this Sunday, I am en route to Wichita and then north to Hesston, Kansas, to stand by my dear friend Ken Rodgers as he and his family remember the matriarch, Pearl Rodgers, who died Wednesday evening.

Ken played for my own mother’s funeral  in 1998.  He is my nearest and dearest friend from the wonderful three years in Lawrence, Kansas, as we worked on doctorates at the same time.

This will be a short, bittersweet trip.

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