One early Sunday morning, just after an early breakfast at the Waffle House, we drove around to explore Oklahoma City.
I came upon laborers getting their work in before the heat of the day. Yes, even on Sunday.
They had worn clothes and some with bandanas on the heads many also wore hats. The lucky ones had pitchforks. Any without a tool, hoisted squares of old asphalt above their heads to walk a load over the crest and to heave the refuse into a truck bed below. Dirt, tar, nails would be drop from each load that was walked uphill.
Supermen with Mexican accents, doing the work that others would not.
A watched for a few minutes from my car. There but for the grace of God go I...