Campbellton was a waypoint, a dot on the map between days 2 and 3 of driving north from Boston to the Gaspé Peninsula. We arrived late and rushed to grab food in the bar attached to our HoJo, attached to an aging mall, attached to the bridge to Quebec.
We didn’t know if he was going to kill us or invite us into his home. We had been shooting photos in a nearby parking lot and he must have seen us from his window.
