Welcome to another chapter in my recounting of the tales of Old Big Sandy (which means "old" by the standards of my lifetime, mostly the 1960s and early 1970s). This column is not meant to be a telling of Cliff Gullickson's life story; it is instead a summation of my observations about the man as I knew him during the time that we were both part of Big Sandy.
People might not have thought about it at the time, but a small community is made up of people who play varying roles in the lives of residents of the town. These roles are diverse and, back then, they ran from a cordial mayor to a happy...
