Kevin Dale Anderson

Ismael and I met Kevin about forty-seven years ago when he moved into the house next door on Pilgrim Park Drive in New Plymouth. He would tell us about his hunting and trapping adventures. He was always trying out new bait to trap animals. It was summer, we believe, when Kevin knocked on our door. He had a gleam in his blue eyes and a smile. He held out several small rolls of meat the size of a cigar. The meat was dark, almost black, rolled up, and wrapped in Saran Wrap. Kevin had...