I remember the good old days, when Denver was a place your plane stopped on the way to the West Coast?"Hey, nice mountains you got here," you'd say to some cowboy-hatted local who was hanging around the airport.And he'd pause for a minute, spit some tobacco and say, "Yep."Then you'd get back on the plane and go someplace else.Back then, the city had only one big sports franchise, a football team, the Broncos. They wore orange uniforms and were lucky if they won four games a season. Five victories, they held a parade.
There were four people interested in buying Mike Vernon's house. He had their names and numbers. One day, not too long ago, he told his wife, "Maybe we better call them." This is how you think when you're not playing. Brace for the worst."I figured they had no reason to keep me if I wasn't playing, so I'd be traded somewhere else," he says. "When that happens during the season, you get on a plane and your wife gets stuck with the movers. I was trying to help her out."
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.