In the first week of spring, Francis Albert Behymer went out to look for news, and put a thousand muddy miles behind him. At little towns like Martin, Tenn., and Benton, Ark., the wiry 76-year-old stopped his plodding Chevrolet and got out to visit with the villagers. He talked their language, quoted their Bible, knew their crops and brought news to them from neighboring towns. In his notes and in his uncertain camera, he imprisoned a homely record that dealt with horses, people, auctions, and little girls who raise rabbits. When he had enough...
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