My dad sat at the kitchen table with me after supper and listened to the Lone Ranger.
We didn’t have TV for a few years after it came in because good Free Methodists didn’t go to movies, and TV looked like a movie. Instead we listened to the radio and made movies with our imaginations.
I imagined I was hearing the Lone Ranger and Tonto race through rocky canyons on Silver and Scout. But Dad told me those hoofbeats were just some guy in the radio studio drumming his fingers on the table.
