And I should add Super Man and Thomas Wolfe to that list. If my late friend Charles were still alive, he'd be laughing so hard right now at the fact that I've placed him amongst such illustrious company. His laugh was always hardy and infectious, so downright celebratory. I bet those of you who knew him can hear him now, as can I. And you can probably see him too, with his head thrown back, the wide brim of his lightly colored felt hat framing his face, his long braid of hair lying across a shoulder that's shaking with his laughter. So who was (how I hate to use the past tense here) Charles Price, and how does he belong on my somewhat odd list? First and foremost, Charles was a novelist and historian from the mountains of Western North Carolina, who worked first as a journalist in the 1960s and later as a lobbyist in Washington, D.C., but he returned to his home mountains at age 57, specifically to Burnsville, North Carolina, to settle into what [...]