In the dead of winter, while his fields slept, Monroe Dourte built things. I remember standing in my grandpa's workshop as a nine-year-old boy, warming my backside at a little cast iron stove. I marveled at his meticulous craftsmanship, especially since he'd lost the fingers of ...
To view the rest of this article, you must be a subscriber to Men of Integrity.
Print subscriber? Activate your online account for complete access.
Lord, give me the resolve and stamina to become a living demonstration of godliness.
Use your Men of Integrity login to easily comment on this article.
Not part of the community? Subscribe, or on public pages, register for a free account.