When I was a boy living on a ranch in Tennessee I spent glorious afternoons roaming with my best friend We rsquo d hike into the woods ride ponies visit the rodeo arena and venture into the barn to watch the cowboys work the horses But whenever I heard my dad rsquo s whistle mdash that clear sound slicing through the wind and all the other clatter mdash I rsquo d immediately drop whatever I was doing and head home The signal was unmistakable and I knew I was being called by my father Decades later I rsquo d still [... more]