"I was born here. My grandfather worked in that steel plant."
"You were born here and you're stopping me from photographing Bethlehem Steel?! You know how funny you're sounding right now?"
"It's not Bethlehem Steel anymore. It belongs to Sands."
"Man," I shook my head and pointed at the sky, "your granddaddy is probably laughing at you right now."
Citing the Patriot Act, he demanded to see the images on my camera, but I refused to show them, and as I turned to walk away, he stopped me on the threat of arrest. After more absurd back and forth, he finally let me go when told, through a walkie talkie, to do so by a superior.
Done with making stuff, we sold each other products and services. I'll cut your hair, you'll cut mine. When those prospects proved inadequate, we turned to hustling. That's why casinos are mushrooming across this land. In Kansas City, Kansas, I even saw one occupying an old church. Heading into this Mother of all Depressions, we're armed with not much more than the audacity of hope that luck will be on our side as we shove one last penny into the slot machine.
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