Somewhere along the way on a 300-mile journey to Alabama, I lost my voice. By the time I prepared to travel home, my voice had not returned to me.
If you’ve got to lose your voice, I recommend the South for the setting. My heart has been blessed countless times since I began whispering for a living.
At the fast-food restaurant, I touched the clerk’s sleeve and said, “I’ve lost my voice.”
“Bless your …
