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Another championed cause that took years to gain the attention it needed began with Bob Fay sending me down an alley in Shelbyville that he said deserved a photo page. What I saw in the short drive down the alley, unknown to most residents along Main Street, brought me to tears.
Houses with front doors resting on rusted hinges and leaving a gap at the top and bottom were crumbling to the ground. Old men sitting on porches that had holes in the floor with weeds growing through them waved shyly as I passed.
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