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Jake Sadler sat on his front porch looking out over the dark valley to the far hills. The stars were brilliantly beaming down at him this cool, dry September night. He was tired, bone tired. All day he had worked in his fields getting ready to harvest his corn. From just before sunup to well after sundown Jake worked his small farm in West Virginia.
The farm was nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains and there wasn't a flat spot containing more than two acres at any one place. The 80 acres of corn that he harvested every year just barely kept him and his family alive. There was little cash at the end of the year to buy much of anything. Mostly the cash went to buy school things for his two kids and maybe some material for his wife to sew clothes.