Today, while out on a story about a teenager killed in a car wreck, I ended up talking for a half hour to a 92-year-old man named Cleve who was in World War II. We sat on his porch swing and just talked. He was so sweet. I kept thinking about how odd it must be to have been born when he was (1921!) and have lived through the Great Depression and all these wars…and then to hear him on the phone with his 65-year-old daughter talking about text messages. Total time warp.