Across from us leaned an older gentleman, with a strong constitution, bushy brows, and a head full of thick, white hair. As he grinned, his right canine tooth glimmered gold, but couldn’t outshine the gleam in his eye. John O’Neill was a Dublin local, and a man who would later open my eyes to the true meaning of the term, “home”.
Monthly Archives: November - 2014
History is saturated with tales of great friendships. This...this is not one of those stories.