When I moved to Livingston back in 1990, there was a family that hung out around the courthouse during the day. It was rumored that the kids were the children of one of there older sisters. They supposedly locked up the father shortly after I moved there. The boy and girl were probably in their late teens or early twenties and were forever more jacked up mentally and physically. The boy could hardly walk and the girl sounded like Nick Marshall when she talked. In all seriousness, it was heartbreaking to think of how they lived.
