Tim Botos: His eyeglasses perched just above his nostrils, Fred Askew sipped tea and scanned the morning newspaper. His long legs stuffed beneath a table at the downtown McDonald’s, he steers clear of the breakfast groups of men who hold court every morning at opposite ends of the restaurant.
“This is how I unwind, get my mind clear for the day,” he said.
He’s spoken to them plenty before, on other days.
When Askew has shared stories of his past, sometimes, they believe him. Other times, not so much.
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