Sylvia and Frank Parkinson sat beneath a table umbrella on the little patio coffee spot behind the bed-and-breakfast with the sunshine sprinkling down on the river near them. To their right, sparkling just as brightly, was the train bridge and they watched a few people walking back and forth up there, emerging from and disappearing into the walking trail that led off into the woods and hills.

It was a beautiful morning, serene and calm – the type of morning that made ...