In our town, known throughout the province as a place of uncommon common knowledge about solving its own problems, was a man known as the Don. He had the bearing of an overlord/aristocrat, and he deserved the epithet due to his family’s history, their financial holdings, and his own beneficent and noble manner. The Don’s family owned the paper box and tool and die factories on the eastern side of town, the sports arena across from the town square, and, it was said, the town council. In his youth, the Don was a good student and good athlete, and was always forgiven for his juvenile indiscretions, such as drunkenness and vandalism, due to his sincere remorse, his desire to make amends, and the further steps he always took to help the less fortunate of the town. (“Boys will be boys”, they said.) He donated heavily to charities and it was…
