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“The early morning mountain mist is spread over the valley like a large, gray blanket. Underneath it, the tiny hamlet, snug and settled, rests easy. It is early autumn and the rich greenery of summer is beginning to give way to brown, red, orange, and gold hues that will become more pronounced as the sun comes up over the mountains in the eastern sky.”
— Robert Santelli, The Appalachians
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“Soldier’s Song”
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Then one night George had been awakened by singing. He strained to look at the pallets on the cold cave floor, but the sick soldiers slept on, unaware of the music. It didn’t come from any of them. Though his body ached, George rose from his bed to move toward . . .