As more and more of the veterans of World War II fade into history, it becomes increasingly important to be cognizant of, and grateful for, the extraordinary things these soldiers accomplished in battling—and being victorious over—forces led by perhaps one of the most evil men to have walked this planet in modern history.
Last Friday, a member of our community passed away at the age of 95. When viewed from a distance, the loss of someone so elderly should not come as a surprise. At least, not a total surprise. Not really. Living for just a few years shy of a century is, after all, an extraordinary amount of time for a man to walk this earth. Yet, news of his passing still came as a shock because, even at 95 years old, even as he needed a wheelchair to get around or occasionally haD to ask someone to repeat themselves because his hearing was not as good as it once was, even as the relentless ravages of time had left their mark on him in different ways, LG Vanderwork was as vibrant and unique and curious and inventive as he had been his entire life.
In the midst of elections—both those that have just passed and those looming on the horizon—and investigations and legislation and political partisanship that has us at each other’s throats, there are, nonetheless, times and events that call upon us to just stop and look and think and reflect on what’s happening around us. These events remind us that we, no matter where we are, are not the center of all that matters just as we, no matter our age, are not the only generation that has ever lived. Other places matter in any myriad of ways. Other generations matter, for they accomplished extraordinary things.
For many years, scientists have been intrigued by the role the five senses play in the life of human beings. There were often long standing debates (of course there were, we’re talking about scientists) regarding which sense—sight, taste, touch, hearing or smell—had the greatest impact on the human experience. Everyone had their opinions until one discovery seemed to, more or less, answer the question.
LONG TIME GONE: 33 Hours Frozen in Time
It was early on a Thursday morning in late March. When the sun rose at 5:45, the temperature was already on the rise, ultimately reaching close to 60 degrees before it was even 9:00am. Maybe the snowstorm that had hit just a week before was the last one of the season. After all, getting two big storms in March was, at the very least, uncommon. Yes, the air was strangely still, and anyone who knew the High Plains knew the sky, now blue, could turn with little notice. But sixty degrees so early in the morning made the forecast for snow seem unlikely, at best. And, although it’s clearly speculation, it would have been only natural for people to have longed for the rebirth that spring was supposed to bring.