Shopping in a small, impressive wine and olive oil shop off the beaten path in Florence, Italy, I heard a familiar accent. No, not Italian or any other European language, but distinctly Fargo.
What a nice surprise to meet two people from my birthplace, all of us so far away from home. I’ve been gone 50 years living in Florida and the couple had lived in Fargo only 22 years so we knew no one in common. But that accent runs true and deep.