Every few weeks, over many years, I used to spot a slight and silver-haired gentleman, quiet but polite in demeanor, walk briskly through Union Station in Washington on his way to an Amtrak train.The conductors all seemed to know him, and subtly nodded, even though they rarely exchanged words as he glided by. A few times I happened to spot him from afar riding in the same train car as I -- always economy. Usually alone, working from a battered beige briefcase at the end of the car, as he read, marked up, and carefully filed papers back within it.The modest, silver-haired gentleman was Joe B…READ FULL ARTICLE
