Growing up with family from the hills of Kentucky, we were raised with many superstitions. One was that when you heard of someone dying, there would always be two more. Bad things come in threes. I heard on Saturday that Paul Harvey died. I didn't know him but like many Americans, he was like a wise old uncle who had sage advice and stories to share. On Sunday it was Uncle Al, the host of the children's show we all loved in the 50's. I was on his show at least three times that I can remember. Just today I was waiting for the other shoe to drop (as my mom would have said). Who else would I hear had died? Sadly it was a man I met through work, Wade Nasser. Mr. Nasser ran a small store downtown and had been robbed on a few occasions. Last time he was robbed he chased the burglar down the street, shooting at him. Today, they shot him. My heart breaks for his family because I knew he cared about them and I am sure they loved and respected him, too.
I know that good things come in more than threes. I pray that will remain the same forever.
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