Oh, hell, Mac Conway wasn’t like anybody. He never followed anyone’s footsteps; he couldn’t really. He was too restless a spirit, too hell-bent on slashing through the tangle and lighting out headlong for the territory ahead. Moreover, he was that rare human who discovered some bona-fide virgin turf; he even did it repeatedly. And every time he unearthed new ground, he’d start building. Building things nobody’d ever built before.
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McKinley Conway, 1920-2011: Last Flight Home in a Landmark Life
