How local history scripts activism.
As a very young boy, on long car trips I would stand up on the back seat serenely looking out the back window. Those were the dangerous days before child restraints. I never looked in the direction we were going. I only saw what had passed by. Along the highway an endless line of electricity poles receded, wires rising and falling hypnotically like waves. I had a long time to take it all in. In the front, my parents were nervously eyeballing the future as it rushed towards them.
Details / PDF:
The full-text PDF of this article can be purchased from Informit.