I got an early morning visit from the ghost of Justice Antonin Scalia. We went outside and took a walk along the creek.

The ghost of Justice Scalia said, “When I was a boy, I used to walk along the crick behind our home. I’d get mesmerized by the hypnotic sounds of the water over the rocks, losing track of the hours. I’d sometimes walk all the way to the next county before I’d realize. I’d run home knowing that my ma would be waiting with the switch. I would often day-dream that I’d run into a circus and they’d take me with them and I could avoid the strict punishment awaiting me at home. But I would always return, knowing it was best.”

I said that must have been hard. I shared that my parents only spanked me once because I threw a snowball at a passing car.

The ghost of Justice Scalia held my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

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