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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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There were so many accidents for a while in which teenagers drove packed cars late at night and had fatal accidents that extra qualifications were thrown into the mix. It seems to have helped, though there was a fatal accident right in front of my former boss’s house when a girl and her girlfriend were trying to beat the curfew and lost control of the car, seriously damaging his daughter’s car and veering across the road into a tree. One of the girls ended up dead.