tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72114328354167713212023-12-02T07:10:21.551-08:00ink spotsTales from the country, photos and other stories. Sit,relax have a talk. It is still a free country.john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.comBlogger488125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-38510505665298629832022-06-11T05:25:00.001-07:002022-06-11T05:25:33.872-07:00Central Government Control<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dictators love a government with a central government,
it easy to overthrow and control the populace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All authority is consolidated in a central location and easy to
manage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get a few cronies’ together and
give the government a good heave ho and the dictator are in control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
United States is about at that point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
few large major corporations, control about 30-40% of the economy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The government controls about 20-30& of
the remaining economy with the health act and the federal bureaucracy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
wannabe ruler would have a pretty easy time overthrowing the US
government.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get a few of the large
corporations on board, use the Patriot Act and the bureaucrats on their side
and there it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A new style of
government is put in place and there is group of controlling elites operating
behind a dictator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To
see parallels, look south of the border.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The government of Mexico controls the major companies there and they
dictate how the economy operates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
ruling Mexican Party has been power for decades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is an opposition party, but they haven’t
had a president from their party in years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This gives the illusion that Mexico is a democracy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
has been a mind set of lately, that bigger is better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result just a few control different
phases of the US economy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right now, Big
Tech, the silicon valley, is under scrutiny because of their control of social
media and other electronic avenues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is a good example of how a few can manipulate the many.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
is this what’s going on with inflation, a few large corporations are pushing
huge price increases.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look at how few
there marketing petroleum, these people control the price of gas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same is true in the food industry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are about a dozen giants marketing food
and the control around 60% of the market.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
if you want to overthrow a government, consolidate your bureaucracy and get
some large corporate cronies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The mindset of bigger is better, works in favor of
tyrants that want power and control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is one of the reasons, the Constitution, gives us separation of
powers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To keep one government entity
from telling another how to conduct their business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yet this is happening in Colorado, with the state
telling the school districts how to conduct their operation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A school district is a separate government
entity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have elected board members
and have taxing authority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The state
sets accreditation standards for the schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The state provides standards for teacher guidelines and a teachers
college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The state is not to interfere
in the daily operation of a school district.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A school and other government is supposed to be protected by the
constitution from interference from another government entity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Criminal activity is another matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
telling the schools they can not have certain type of mascot, they state has
went outside its authority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet if you
want power and control over others, power is consolidated by telling others how
to behave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually the lines of
separation are blurred and the other entities disappear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then one point of authority is in power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
supposed to be limits on what various government entities can do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t stop the politicians, we vote for,
nor does the judicial branch always follow the constitution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the years, our politicians have sacrificed
for freedom in the name of safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Freedoms lost are hard to win back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We need members of the legislature that can and are willing to swimn up
stream and begin repealing lots of the laws that are supposed to provide safety
for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Look at the no smoking laws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Government is telling the property owner how
to conduct business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is no longer
the choice of the owner, but the government’s choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because a few few wanted it safe, in their
perception, the many were punished to keep the few happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The few used the bully pulpit of the
government to impose their will on others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Look at all of the other laws that have been imposed, resulting in the
loos of freedom of choices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-36106302090535016522022-04-03T14:56:00.002-07:002022-04-03T14:56:23.641-07:00Sad Sack Farmer <p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Joe
had been a farmer all his life, growing up on Grappa’s helper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe learned to care for the land, for it was
the source of the family livelihood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
when the electric pickups came out, Joe bought one, because he had heard it was
good for the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
following year, electric tractors became avail be for farming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe knew he had to have on to help the
environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That winter, Joe went to
the big city to look at the new electric tractors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was just over 250 mile trip to the city.
Looking at the tractors, Joe decided which model he wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Going
into the office, Joe filled out and signed all the paperwork.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dealer said they would deliver the new
tractor the following week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All excited,
Joe gets into his electric pick up for the trip home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Out
on the road, Joe is as happy as can be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a clear day, not a cloud overhead and the road is clear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About two thirds of the way home, the pickup
quit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking at the charge meter, Joe
saw he had run out of electricity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Coasting
to the side of the road and on the shoulder, Joe parked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting out, Joe climbed into the back of the
pickup and uncovered the generator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
gets the pickup plugged into the generator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gets in the pickup and lights up a cigarette to smoke while waiting for
his electric truck to charge up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Finally,
late that night Joe gets home with his charged up electric pick up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next morning as he was sitting at the table
have coffee, a smile was pasted on Joe’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His wife glances across the table at the big kid grin and smile’s
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She says, “ Ya know, you’re going
to have to get a bigger generator to keep the tractor charged up.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe looks at, nods his, and tips the coffee
cup back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Delivery
day arrives and Joe’s chest is so big, it almost explodes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Local paper folks had been told about the big
day and were lined up in the yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
semi rolls up and parks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They proceed to
unload the electric tractor, cameras were clicking and voices were abuzz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon the tractor was parked in front of its
new home and Joe’s face was beaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was answering questions and pictures were being taken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">With
spring approaching Joe was itchy to try his new electric tractor in the field. Warm
weather was rolling over the land and Joe had prepped his plow and off to the
filed Joe and equipment went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Driving
into the field, Joe set the plow in and began plowing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Down the row Joe went, Tractor easing actors
the dirt, Turing up fresh pled dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe
was so happy, but the ground was not ready yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At the end of the field, Joe stopped and parked for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting in pickup, Joe went home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Couple
days later, Joe returned to the field and got in his tractor to start plowing
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Down the field they went, fresh
dirt being turned and Joe sat there watching his daily program on TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a few hours, Joe was startled out o his
reverie as alarms and light galore went off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Charge in the batteries was almost gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Joe was turning red as the electric tractor limped down to the end of
the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
charge was almost gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe gets into
his pick up to go home and get the charger he had just bought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pulling out of the field, the yellow battery
light came on is his pick up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
battery charge in the pickup was almost gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hoping he could get home, Joe and pick up rolled on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About a half mile short of home the red light
came on and Joe coasted to a stop on the edge of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe gets his phone out and calls his wife and
tells her what has happened..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
wife looks out the window and sees Joe walking towards the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Putting her work aside, the wife heads out to
the shed to start the old utility tractor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As she is backing out, Joe cams walking in and jumps on the tractor
besides her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Out
onto the road they turn and off to hook up to the pickup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They get the pickup home and parked by its
charging station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe thanks his wife
and gives her a hug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jumping on the
tractor, he backs into the shed to hook up the new diesel generator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Off to the field Joe heads to charge up his
new electric tractor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-40156332276042087312022-02-18T13:02:00.001-08:002022-02-18T13:02:26.475-08:00warming not so much <p> </p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 20.0pt;">Conspiracies of the
EPA?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 20.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Looking
at the means, sometimes wonder is the process is good or contrary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I question the process and means of the
EPA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Back
in the late 60’s and early 70’s, there were serious pollution problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So the government formed the Environmental
Protection Agency, EPA, to help with America’s pollution problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This new agency was charged with cleaning up
the air, water and ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pollution
standards were set and America began the process of being cleaned up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">At
the same time the pollution cleaning began another alarm was sounded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Global warming, was the new threat to the
world and excess carbon in the air was the culprit, known as greenhouse gas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The internal combustion engine was blamed for
the major source of greenhouse gasses along with power plants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">At
the end of the 70’s the land was clearing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Cleaner air and water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through
the 80’s, most polluting sources were gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The power plants were 99%+ clean and so was the internal combustion
engine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">***** <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
bought a used heavy duty pick up for local deliveries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a diesel, 1984, almost no black smoke
from the diesel and it 35MPG around the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Years later, I ran across a similar Pick Up, same specifications but it
now got 8mpg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
the question is…. Is it cleaner then my old truck?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Things
to keep in mind:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>laws of physics, matter
can not be created or destroyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So a
gallon of fuel will contain X amount of carbon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This can not change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
my old pick up, every 35 miles would emit X amount of carbon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The newer version would emit 4.1X parts of
carbon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So with new standards, the EPA
is forcing the internal combustion engine to produce more carbon. Yet Carbon is
blamed for causing global warming/climate change. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
it would appear that the EPA is forcing climate change/global warming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Across
the board, the EPA has reduced the production capacity of the internal
combustion engine to produce excessive amounts of carbon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">In
conclusion; who is the EPA trying to protect? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Cambria Math","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Is
the EPA in conspiracy with the climate changers?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-24815150094399674722021-12-06T13:41:00.000-08:002021-12-06T13:41:10.031-08:00environment <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUXvtpTmIh43XC6Yhr0lakgoJwGMD7lVNQMdxQSd9ZH4_kXlsZg_VhK7eF3qWiSdqgAdlj5YeNVrHxgFgQ4HtiYj_dBu0seXUojukGJd8zxrP7U7NtE1-5hazv0uXXINkn5uD6-O6sQVM/s640/DSCN0442+%2528640x470%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="640" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUXvtpTmIh43XC6Yhr0lakgoJwGMD7lVNQMdxQSd9ZH4_kXlsZg_VhK7eF3qWiSdqgAdlj5YeNVrHxgFgQ4HtiYj_dBu0seXUojukGJd8zxrP7U7NtE1-5hazv0uXXINkn5uD6-O6sQVM/w508-h373/DSCN0442+%2528640x470%2529.jpg" width="508" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Moron
Greenies<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saw
a story the other day that the folks of Denver were crying about the Natural
gas fired power plants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They said the
natural gas fired plants were polluting their air, nothing specific, just that
the power plant was polluting their air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were not studies cited and no specific pollutants, they just made
the statement that their air was being polluted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since they made the statement, they expect
people to accept their assumption/opinion as being fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Natural
gas fired power plants are probably one of the cleanest sources of energy and possibly
a great benefit to the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Outside
of carbon dioxide and water vapor, a gas fired plant has almost no emissions or
particulates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Water
vapor is harmless and carbon dioxide is beneficial to plants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we need oxygen to breathe, plants need
carbon dioxide to breathe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plants inhale
carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Talking
to a farm manager few years ago, he mentioned that to stimulate plant growth in
the greenhouse to would add carbon dioxide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For the richer the air was in carbon dioxide, faster the plant grew and
the healthier it grew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So one can deduce from a statement like that, that
power plants enhance the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
the richer the ambient air is in carbon dioxide, the better the plant growth
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In support of this, I read about a
study done in Europe by various universities, that the world’s vegetation had
increased by 17% since the beginning of the industrial age, early 1800;s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It would appear that the greenhouse gas is
actually beneficial to the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because
as the world’s vegetation increased to did its food supply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a growing population, the food supply
needs to grow along with number of people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So the question is, is greenhouse gas bad for the
environment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my opinion, I would say
greenhouse gasses are good for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
years, pundits have been saying we are going to perish because of the climate changes
brought about by greenhouse gas emissions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With all of the alarmist statements over the past
50 years, the balance of gasses in the atmosphere has hardly varied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh, I was a biology and chemistry major when I
started university. So what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Personally
not much, just don’t abuse things and have a good stewardship of the earth’s
resources.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-61523675209641821192021-09-11T12:25:00.004-07:002021-09-11T12:25:51.632-07:00Galatea, Colorao<p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLumATkdNyFK-DcxdgVOHH_fXh-_WNPzl0dOghbh05rgbqLAD83KAaWD8jrr5B4mRuKx-zK_FEwVpPLCLwrbYvaHu69fJKnGGZs-jHF5byi_876uVO9QlL-2rWbV6qgzcfOpiXfE1KRLH6/s640/DSC08214+%2528640x475%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="640" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLumATkdNyFK-DcxdgVOHH_fXh-_WNPzl0dOghbh05rgbqLAD83KAaWD8jrr5B4mRuKx-zK_FEwVpPLCLwrbYvaHu69fJKnGGZs-jHF5byi_876uVO9QlL-2rWbV6qgzcfOpiXfE1KRLH6/w504-h375/DSC08214+%2528640x475%2529.jpg" width="504" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt;">Galatea, Colorado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Galatea
was a Railroad town established by the Missouri Pacific railroad as it built
west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the railroad moved across
southern Colorado, they began naming their stops in alphabetical order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the G stop was named Galatea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Like
many of the RR stops, Galatea faded into memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few building still stand on the former town
site, along with some trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out along the tracks are a few pieces of concrete
where the depot, etc had been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KWL7N3ZHzw0S9sSIOMXFlSMUKKRPkaB1N89XDv9oHiHK2rk1vIzEOcVKdZHJPX6q2DoozY1Y2BsCOHmsVuBkpZSs_OY8vZ-cRZvHxY38pg5540YHKYZUfa-EoXjva4afJGDAtIWKIfGC/s640/DSC08209+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KWL7N3ZHzw0S9sSIOMXFlSMUKKRPkaB1N89XDv9oHiHK2rk1vIzEOcVKdZHJPX6q2DoozY1Y2BsCOHmsVuBkpZSs_OY8vZ-cRZvHxY38pg5540YHKYZUfa-EoXjva4afJGDAtIWKIfGC/w403-h537/DSC08209+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" width="403" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Couple
miles NE is the town cemetery and there are a few headstones among the
overgrown weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Galatea
is located in a dry harsh area and is not easy to eke out a living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are still a few souls that live in the
area scratching a living from the dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet
the dirt blows real easy here and in spots are the drifts of blow dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rails had been silent for years, with a
new owner, the iron wheels clatter over the rails again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8H4VG_E7fuJtiZA2FyaJoHKYIixEyhQz3ttxSvVBywVp9KRKAJXB-JISqLyJJY4NQNreMVMmA6nArc7AvCO7aZ8UjXiDCAEANJ-G35WKcyZMrPYtREOKyQUp7buJ4wQTk-9l8Pms7P_lU/s640/DSC08217+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8H4VG_E7fuJtiZA2FyaJoHKYIixEyhQz3ttxSvVBywVp9KRKAJXB-JISqLyJJY4NQNreMVMmA6nArc7AvCO7aZ8UjXiDCAEANJ-G35WKcyZMrPYtREOKyQUp7buJ4wQTk-9l8Pms7P_lU/w527-h395/DSC08217+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="527" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Missouri Pacific was not the first RR to go through the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 1870’s, the Kansas Pacific built a
branch line through here on their way to Ft Lyon and the Pacific Ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Arkansas Valley Railroad was short lived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About ten years later the rails were pulled when the KP went into
receivership.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During that time, freight
traffic from the Santa Fe Trail was being loaded on the AV RR and going
East.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides freight trains, there was
the daily passenger train, it was a busy RR.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiia8Ul8seR3voFXxkewuzweihcOoYBtiy4cFQINxGJvrEGIaXu346K6cihadGSh4U-TeY22fMLFnShSH_eHm2Ouo-sSGYUGctMRTgTrENJR78YWWHTHalQPqpyxhbR0WCFLVaMiWjj-wRD/s800/DSCN2358+%2528800x600%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiia8Ul8seR3voFXxkewuzweihcOoYBtiy4cFQINxGJvrEGIaXu346K6cihadGSh4U-TeY22fMLFnShSH_eHm2Ouo-sSGYUGctMRTgTrENJR78YWWHTHalQPqpyxhbR0WCFLVaMiWjj-wRD/w420-h315/DSCN2358+%2528800x600%2529.jpg" width="420" /></a></div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today
there is no indication that another railroad had been the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old right of way has been plowed up for
farming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Further north, towards Kit
Carson, portions of the grade can still be seen in the pastures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today
the silence of Galatea is ruffled by the breezes that flow over the land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The greeting committee is either the owl or
the buzzard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OkIf_Qly41PjMIvyqEnsL03wNATU3ENVMmvFj_e7UgA_jLHhd4SMC0LwEyzh_cXArg0vx8g1jMIwPB0d1mibm8dnHGaZcA2EK1FfbWiwIdwqL5rCLZM_1p5LX8cusHmTcQnU1omN0rWN/s640/DSC08213+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OkIf_Qly41PjMIvyqEnsL03wNATU3ENVMmvFj_e7UgA_jLHhd4SMC0LwEyzh_cXArg0vx8g1jMIwPB0d1mibm8dnHGaZcA2EK1FfbWiwIdwqL5rCLZM_1p5LX8cusHmTcQnU1omN0rWN/w512-h384/DSC08213+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-59889445460055281382021-08-21T14:37:00.002-07:002021-08-21T14:37:23.432-07:00Ghost Post Office <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmgrVRzqNfskTsPmDS2CGeJFaACmBxf1FtroWJ8o84cthmuyZHjrvFJFcJriH58maXM7snG3c-9Az_K8pj3Mt-PBtsjSJHgjyD_5riJ-4TYuFblEzfV3gGrPbybAdJPtwD1CiURyUSu8m/s640/DSC08250+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmgrVRzqNfskTsPmDS2CGeJFaACmBxf1FtroWJ8o84cthmuyZHjrvFJFcJriH58maXM7snG3c-9Az_K8pj3Mt-PBtsjSJHgjyD_5riJ-4TYuFblEzfV3gGrPbybAdJPtwD1CiURyUSu8m/w590-h443/DSC08250+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="590" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt;">Damascus,
Colorado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Damascus,
Colorado, was a small Post Office, operated out of a home at the turn of this
past century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The home site was located
on the banks of Rush Creek in far south eastern Lincoln County.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Out
there in the ranchers pasture, among the trees a few structures can be
seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nearby is another ranch house and
some barns and out buildings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According
to the old map, a wagon road went through the area, near Damascus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a land of open spaces, Population density
is maybe one person per 5 square miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
appears the wagon road to Hugo, a railroad town during the 1899’s and 1900’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From Hugo, the mail and express was delivered
to the ranchers in the area and maybe trading posts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From Hugo, about 60 miles away, the drayage
service would have delivered them mail to Damascus and other PO’s along the
route.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
I journeyed looking for Damascus, I had no expectations of what I would find
and not much did I find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned south
from Boyero, making small dust cloud as I bounced along the dirt road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About 4very miles or so I would pass a ranch
house, otherwise it was open country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here an untouched land, much like when the buffalo roamed the prairie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only changes were the roads and
fences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The buffalo had been replaced by
cattle to graze the grasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
were scores of different birds, falcons, eagles, hawks, larks and you name
em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The occasional antelope could be
seen on the ridges, watching the intruder, deer cautiously watcher the passer
by, ground squirrels scurried off the road and coyote sauntered along the
ditch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here was a land with few changes,
so I settled in for the journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soon
I was at my destination, well almost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The road curved at the fence and beyond the fence went the ruts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over there in the trees was Damascus Post
Office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I followed the road around the
curve and across Rush Creek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
small trickle of water in the creek, some deer were lounging in the cool
grasses on the banks.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXj1yM6P3zs7AWAz21UoDNRjIThjtC0RBtPjmhyphenhyphen9NAv8iYDwR7Z-X0ueY092TQkRb6PwB8Qaa_pp4BkwEMeyw7_JQHLQ2xeygRCMD6OXVcFhxVu5Yn2Wu2zBKmQGqir0v3Iqp8-b0Bz2ps/s640/DSC08253+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXj1yM6P3zs7AWAz21UoDNRjIThjtC0RBtPjmhyphenhyphen9NAv8iYDwR7Z-X0ueY092TQkRb6PwB8Qaa_pp4BkwEMeyw7_JQHLQ2xeygRCMD6OXVcFhxVu5Yn2Wu2zBKmQGqir0v3Iqp8-b0Bz2ps/w513-h385/DSC08253+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="513" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
paused and did a 360 look about, There was a ranch house over there and some
cattle were grazing over there and the breeze tickled the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was day of time of wonderment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The destination was at hand, the journey was
the time spent thinking about past travelers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Damascus,
Colorado, how came to be named that is still a mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-37646051905419593212021-08-12T13:17:00.001-07:002021-08-12T13:17:10.051-07:00Animal House<h1 style="height: 0px; text-align: center;">County Fair </h1><div> </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">2021</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><h1 style="text-align: center;">Photo Blog</h1><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedA_2YaFZDOtKodMxkLnA4p6jEWBCQevx33b6oMV_44u4OxJozrL7rTnss95J6JY0RpL2X5rjKczrlXTG7ZGKa5vbhMFUjhIxYHQ0Qd5YJF9weH4ylaKLrZNrCemdMJNQ2y8nKIYhMR4G/s640/DSC08260+%2528640x480%2529+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedA_2YaFZDOtKodMxkLnA4p6jEWBCQevx33b6oMV_44u4OxJozrL7rTnss95J6JY0RpL2X5rjKczrlXTG7ZGKa5vbhMFUjhIxYHQ0Qd5YJF9weH4ylaKLrZNrCemdMJNQ2y8nKIYhMR4G/s320/DSC08260+%2528640x480%2529+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ArlcGyD7TKRs4i2MKY0zmOAJVAg6mjMGum1VFOR0hJcvoQmubvT1qcSK2qxgGGaw5e98UND4RZwa0HUkWGwJ8aTkvmp1TYKoPj9xxF5j-wCdqsYpLOtEISo5u_px7Q3_pHLNMZew1m9s/s640/DSC08277+%2528640x480%2529+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ArlcGyD7TKRs4i2MKY0zmOAJVAg6mjMGum1VFOR0hJcvoQmubvT1qcSK2qxgGGaw5e98UND4RZwa0HUkWGwJ8aTkvmp1TYKoPj9xxF5j-wCdqsYpLOtEISo5u_px7Q3_pHLNMZew1m9s/s320/DSC08277+%2528640x480%2529+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-66990218398200567312021-07-25T11:27:00.001-07:002021-07-25T11:27:35.053-07:00World's First Harvey House <p> </p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 20.0pt;">World’s First<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 20.0pt;">Harvey House<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 36.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Fred
Harvey did not start off in the food business, he worked for a railroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His job required him to travel a lots and the
food served him at the RR places was not good by his standards. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So Fred set out to change the food quality
served to RR workers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Fred,
along with a partner opened their first dining establishments on the Kansas
Pacific railway in Hugo, Colorado and Wallace Kansas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The railroad
hotel served as the host for Fred Harvey’s lunchroom,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxE-1VRxHNMAVI2KpAli91B14e9ID9OKUnSHyMlScpFnsMnUZ4RkCpc5ybf-1xtADS6_-Y8mHadvorQ_bRodjbeYDbv0g5DtYnOphwvbJrNwx1oJ-HHQqse4R8Mx_1lfmPurEVX3MFIwF/s640/DSC08040+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxE-1VRxHNMAVI2KpAli91B14e9ID9OKUnSHyMlScpFnsMnUZ4RkCpc5ybf-1xtADS6_-Y8mHadvorQ_bRodjbeYDbv0g5DtYnOphwvbJrNwx1oJ-HHQqse4R8Mx_1lfmPurEVX3MFIwF/w427-h320/DSC08040+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The cluttered lot, where the first Harvey House had been.</div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">These
first eateries set the stage for Fred Harvey to begin a chain of restaurants
across the western US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Santa Fe RR contracted with Fred to establish dining houses along the Santa Fe
route.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standards were set for food preparation
and apparel for the staff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Harvey
girls as they were known had a manual of guidelines to follow to be a food
server in a Harvey House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The quality of
food and the girls became the mark of a Harvey house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Not
only did Fred Harvey have eating places along the rails, He also got them in
various National Parks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Across the SW US
the Harvey house was well known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today,
most of the Harvey Houses are gone as are the RR hotels that hosted them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a few towns, the old hotel has been
restored and the restaurant is back in operation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These places still trade on the Harvey House
name and there is a Harvey House fan club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
location of the first Harvey House in Hugo is a vacant lot full of stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no reminder that the world’s first
had been there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Kansas Pacific RR built a roundhouse in Hugo in 1870 when Hugo was designated a
division point on the railroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1870,
the government changed the regulations covering rail workers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, Hugo was no longer a division
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
roundhouse was closed and torn down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
hotel was shuttered and demolished along with Fred Harvey’s first lunch
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Into the dim memory box this page
of history faded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around Colorado, there are a few places where
the building still stands where there was a Harvey house. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
would be cool, is somebody open an INN of sorts on the site of the old Harvey
House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At corner of the lot is an old
vacant 50’s style gas station, a classic icon of a bygone era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
railroad town of Hugo is still a town by the rails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1909 government regs changed again and
Hugo became a division point again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
new roundhouse was built on the west side of Hugo and it is still standing. Many
of the old railroad houses and section houses are still in use in Hugo and the
depot is in the park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVu3go7EN-ZykKscJLp4rcqKoE6v4xbuOIlrEQ-cdW_EVFidYYWQmVqHyd0MLopQXBJTT7RXGnCWuxXWP_6mliL3Gz6DVrX7IRPDYDeJUnCNjhO78kEbGm1QTggefMhii1TdXUL_Kwqilx/s640/DSC08043+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVu3go7EN-ZykKscJLp4rcqKoE6v4xbuOIlrEQ-cdW_EVFidYYWQmVqHyd0MLopQXBJTT7RXGnCWuxXWP_6mliL3Gz6DVrX7IRPDYDeJUnCNjhO78kEbGm1QTggefMhii1TdXUL_Kwqilx/w472-h354/DSC08043+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="472" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Looking across the RR park from where the depot had been located.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">US 40, America's Highway, is part of the Port to Plains route. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">US had it origins on the Smoky Hill Trail In 1870. </div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-63556965331771012092021-07-17T14:53:00.004-07:002021-07-17T14:53:38.482-07:00Stormy Night<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJcvvREBpDaQtoAerH8ZaeZhrjA1-G9yF0kjrXCE-zd12HeH26a1w9YsfKcDtbEbmsZsVSJj_dISZtHtjAm17utGisLytWwf1fxDKCe0aoyTu6Y-obb-Ht1WDwNOLqlLO7Tzk_ALPSY6V/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJcvvREBpDaQtoAerH8ZaeZhrjA1-G9yF0kjrXCE-zd12HeH26a1w9YsfKcDtbEbmsZsVSJj_dISZtHtjAm17utGisLytWwf1fxDKCe0aoyTu6Y-obb-Ht1WDwNOLqlLO7Tzk_ALPSY6V/w544-h408/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" width="544" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 26.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dark
and Stormy Night<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Jeff strode through the woods, that dark and stormy
night. The wind danced over the trees,
clouds played tag with the moonbeams.
Jeff was making rapid footprints as he strode down the path. Lantern at his side, light beams lighting the
way, penetrating the darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shadows from the lantern light, bouncing off the
shrubs. Oh what a night for a horror
story, Jeff thought. This is the path
the coven would dance down to their bonfire what a witching New England night
it would be. Jeff’s mind raced on that
dark and stormy night. Other images came
forth as werewolf’s sat among the trees serenading the witches. Naked warlocks scattered among the waving
trees. Bodies writhing and weaving to
the sound of the rustling wind. The
thump of the branches pounding on the ground, a frenzy of dancing around the
fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Jeff continued his pace along the path, watching the
shadows dance across it. The storm had
pushed the wildlife into their burrows.
Looking ahead, Jeff could see the path ahead, lit by the silver beams of
the moon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh what a romantic night this could be Jeff
thought. Walking my girl back home after
the dance. Brief interludes in the
hidden shadows. Jeff felt her warm body
beside, rubbing on his arm. <o:p></o:p></span></p></div><br /><p><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-43669040900926717872021-07-11T15:05:00.002-07:002021-07-11T15:05:33.810-07:00Bakersfield <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7pGRbWM4VQoz2oo3jw28HE4cmCfpqyO-IMwj6sWc03tFCs4OrCzO5rxzRGz9MtKeVrv0df4fB5fmBxWJk8alxUWu4wJfi2L_9PWA48dWD4pCc-jCiC4lZ81LmjYxYnIQPcepnIKEPZra/s640/DSC07818+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7pGRbWM4VQoz2oo3jw28HE4cmCfpqyO-IMwj6sWc03tFCs4OrCzO5rxzRGz9MtKeVrv0df4fB5fmBxWJk8alxUWu4wJfi2L_9PWA48dWD4pCc-jCiC4lZ81LmjYxYnIQPcepnIKEPZra/w449-h337/DSC07818+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="449" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 26.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bakersfield,
Colorado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bakersfield, CO, was a small country Post Office on
the Plains of Eastern Colorado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SW of
Vona or SE of Seibert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It served local
farmers and ranchers, early 1900’s out of their house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where the map showed the location, there were
a couple of homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One was an abandoned
farm, now home to grazing cattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nearby
was an operating farm, with equipment and well kept yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The empty farmyard is probably where the PO
was located.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUC8qlvtz3uZgHrJc3RQE6DKv5mhjq1U94DhXYdFIBxX_sdWxhi8rb20ebUW5vWs2d_vOthOSHXUcuMt3yeADEHSyXlRtJ6okr8L4GLsQUlntMvwRvRWOWTMjfia-CPApDrRVd16rEdp8/s640/DSC07822+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUC8qlvtz3uZgHrJc3RQE6DKv5mhjq1U94DhXYdFIBxX_sdWxhi8rb20ebUW5vWs2d_vOthOSHXUcuMt3yeADEHSyXlRtJ6okr8L4GLsQUlntMvwRvRWOWTMjfia-CPApDrRVd16rEdp8/w484-h363/DSC07822+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="484" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is an area of rolling hills, of mostly pastures,
with some farmland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cattle pause their
browsing to look at the interloper, the buffalo have a look of curiosity and
the deer and antelope scurry for cover and distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fox and coyotes wander the area as do
other critters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there are the birds,
Eastern Colorado has one of the largest, most diverse variety of birds in the
state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Because it is mostly ranchland, the area is pretty
empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Homes are few and far and the
little country Post Office may have had a couple dozen customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3-gD1tjX-VBTsmJh-k2K5TTJt4KKyziDR3ufx-XIO030AJ21PQCvewUnKweTWAAwUzurlxbI8Z2nrP3jPx0Uyob02bpCPe5GHvqwR26ZCq2sAK6OJ9DV1lW-v8M4L7QK9o1tFIdlbUh3/s640/DSC07820+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="417" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3-gD1tjX-VBTsmJh-k2K5TTJt4KKyziDR3ufx-XIO030AJ21PQCvewUnKweTWAAwUzurlxbI8Z2nrP3jPx0Uyob02bpCPe5GHvqwR26ZCq2sAK6OJ9DV1lW-v8M4L7QK9o1tFIdlbUh3/w556-h417/DSC07820+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="556" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nearby is the Mennonite community of New Fredericksburg.
The church has been boarded up, but it appears the graveyard is still used and
taken care of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably there are still some ancestors in the
area.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is a land that holds memories of dreams from
years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbRfO3tyNIFFvTysd61MZ_Osq8BY-mxdWo3ZYHMcF_G1LQamFZUcFVZu4ORquVSbew6ZTHu_d7_h50-CHnVxMP9RBYPeXkoxO2hZ9RGEAQEpHY5DDMD9OgkR97-xucYdSMBQLmSdNs3Mn/s640/DSC07799+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbRfO3tyNIFFvTysd61MZ_Osq8BY-mxdWo3ZYHMcF_G1LQamFZUcFVZu4ORquVSbew6ZTHu_d7_h50-CHnVxMP9RBYPeXkoxO2hZ9RGEAQEpHY5DDMD9OgkR97-xucYdSMBQLmSdNs3Mn/w422-h317/DSC07799+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="422" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-58835032077177328942021-07-03T14:48:00.001-07:002021-07-03T14:48:29.679-07:00Oriska, Colorado<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FvXQAVwA2frD5feNPO2PiKu-qcQIhL8qGlGHYh_dp2a97dXS_1gw0rPccbZnYM4KbqCFdjB8HdtY608WcLh7BEbQPhyphenhyphen9SVfwTETYOPwINeGskvJ8WBeWTRrt1fqdIANjwdm70gcnQJOF/s640/DSC07692+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FvXQAVwA2frD5feNPO2PiKu-qcQIhL8qGlGHYh_dp2a97dXS_1gw0rPccbZnYM4KbqCFdjB8HdtY608WcLh7BEbQPhyphenhyphen9SVfwTETYOPwINeGskvJ8WBeWTRrt1fqdIANjwdm70gcnQJOF/w508-h381/DSC07692+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="508" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";">Oriska, was
a rural Post Office, located in East Central Colorado, just south of
Seibert. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";">The map
shows there had been two Orica’s, one located on SH Hwy 59 and the other just a
couple miles to the east. Both were in
operation during the early 1900’s. When
the contract for mail service was changed, it appears the name stayed with the
PO. On occasion when the rancher would
get the PO contract, he would change the name of the Post Office, using his
last name. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHrdUTNDq4lFV1VS49mweyzyUDmqV_Vz3gcMwJt9KilC_wZgwiog3-Wvo11EtfgVn9fVFggKlJEHX79v8FM7y1jyDU0sgXQwZ14JXRJdlCHhZ1WRZINz3SdroOLvSABfDaWAkSawB-giE/s640/DSC07830+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHrdUTNDq4lFV1VS49mweyzyUDmqV_Vz3gcMwJt9KilC_wZgwiog3-Wvo11EtfgVn9fVFggKlJEHX79v8FM7y1jyDU0sgXQwZ14JXRJdlCHhZ1WRZINz3SdroOLvSABfDaWAkSawB-giE/w583-h437/DSC07830+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="583" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";">Along the
highway there is not much left of the ranch.
A few out buildings and corrals.
According to the map, Oriska was just south of the corner store. The General Store, would be located on the
corner of the correction line road curve.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";">Here there
are a few old building and houses. Often
these little general stores would get the Post Office but according to the map,
no PO was located at the curve. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";">These
little country Post Offices would serve around 12-20 customers. Located in the ranch house, it would also be
a place to pause and visit and learn the gossip about the neighbors. The postal customers of Oriska were probably
consolidated in the Post Office at Seibert. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjRLqiy8BERtmTKGR1RilmDGv1INosmKeUK8BiVj5ueQIjf4IJUDC3m83oRcwKyEGuItna1MQNUWN_0pbgRKyUZcSgkOtuc5yQqYKFpdU3vVUguOI0iiiuZs6LwOpWtY3sRcRW94PrwIA/s640/DSC07696+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjRLqiy8BERtmTKGR1RilmDGv1INosmKeUK8BiVj5ueQIjf4IJUDC3m83oRcwKyEGuItna1MQNUWN_0pbgRKyUZcSgkOtuc5yQqYKFpdU3vVUguOI0iiiuZs6LwOpWtY3sRcRW94PrwIA/w502-h377/DSC07696+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="502" /></a></div><p></p></div><br /><p><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-43714771325219414382021-06-12T14:15:00.001-07:002021-06-12T14:15:24.819-07:00Into the Dark <p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh036oKSbBrWmG10rXXLfJfWYpNLw_rhupjjvGE7bv3Kw030xIlwpU3i9SYx0cmLN62lB6W-CDB31hejB_6-ylnfYHCAG_z4jl8I8Xlz_XKfa__j-G8JtFIYNmekKJp8YD6g4jtC3phWm4N/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh036oKSbBrWmG10rXXLfJfWYpNLw_rhupjjvGE7bv3Kw030xIlwpU3i9SYx0cmLN62lB6W-CDB31hejB_6-ylnfYHCAG_z4jl8I8Xlz_XKfa__j-G8JtFIYNmekKJp8YD6g4jtC3phWm4N/w494-h371/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" width="494" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Dark Storm<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
a dark and stormy night as Joe hurried down the side street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snow was blindly swirling around him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following the buildings edge, Joe scrambled
along towards main street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying to pull his coat up tighter to keep the
warmth inside, Joe had a losing battle with the slashing wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Reaching
the end of the building, Joe could tell he was closer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reaching the corner, Joe turned, only to turn
back to the side street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The harsh wind
had<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>torn at his face, sending ice pain
through his cheeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reaching up, Joe
pulled at his beanie cap, trying to pull it down over his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He laced the hood down tighter, covering his
chin and mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling kind of secure,
Joe turned the corner again to duel with the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaning forward, Joe trudged into the fierce
wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flakes of snow were splattering
against his coat and forming ice around his eyelids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Three fourths’
of the way down the block, Joe came to an entry way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stepping into the doorway, Joe got a reprieve
from the howling wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here he brushed
the ice off his face and coat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing
there, Joe took a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he looked out the
entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other side of the street was not visible
as small drifts swirled down the walk in front of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The street lights were but miniature light
points.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe lingered knowing his journey
had to continue in the fierce night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-41414209688327177762021-06-06T13:41:00.002-07:002021-06-06T13:41:24.884-07:00Into the Dark <p> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ilQyTAWOrlBsf-QnHgkHvth9bJXDK8lGgssBkUK58NjtYxi4-eGlfIc1s_qQt56NcWSODDhyphenhyphenwSY45XbHjyuSqtik7WIF96Yd1WOt1hITiFisURy8xCFI3RAmHbqWvmDFV96w__lobYNq/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ilQyTAWOrlBsf-QnHgkHvth9bJXDK8lGgssBkUK58NjtYxi4-eGlfIc1s_qQt56NcWSODDhyphenhyphenwSY45XbHjyuSqtik7WIF96Yd1WOt1hITiFisURy8xCFI3RAmHbqWvmDFV96w__lobYNq/w520-h390/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway. Bob had moved further back into the entry as
the wind had picked up and the rain intensified. His had was cupped around his mouth and the
glow of a lit smoke could be seen through his fingers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Smoke
rolled out of the entry to disappear up into the canopy. His eyes ever present focused on the diner
across the way. Ever so often the eyes
would roll of to the light of the all night gas station down at the end of the
town. Rolling back the other direction,
Bob’s gaze would stall at the diner. As
Bob looked the other way, he could see couples darting out of the movie house
to their cars. A few had umbrellas and
were hustling down the street. A few
movie goers crossed the street headed for the diner, heads bowed and coats
pulled up over. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Into
the diner they darted, brushing off the water and shaking out the moisture of
the day. A few sat at the counter, most
went for the booths. Across the street,
Bob could see hand gestures, smiles and heads jerking from laughter. Cars in front of the movie house had come to
life and were slowly pulling out onto the rain soaked street. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob
reached into his pocket, pulling out another smoke, lighter flashing, smoke
floating upwards. The cars had left to
their homes and main street was quiet again.
Bob stared at the diner, the waitress was scurrying around, taking
orders and setting them up for cookie.
Drinks in hand, the waitress placed them on the appropriate tables. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob
stood there in his doorway, taking a slow drag on the cigarette, smoke
exhausting into the air. The gaze of Bob
resumed it course of traveling up and down the street. The rain had eased up and was down a heavy
mist that swirled in the light breeze. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">To his
left, Bob caught the flicker of headlights.
Down main street, a dark green sedan rolled, coming to a rest in front
of the diner. Headlights flicked off,
the motor went silent and two men exited the car. Crossing the sidewalk, the two men opened the
door to the diner, to a booth at the far end they strolled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob
tossed his half smoked cigarette down and began walking out of the
doorway. Skipping over the flooded
gutter, Bob strode out on the street.
Turing his collar down and rearranging his hat, Bob moved across
Main. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-89058014644381713742021-05-30T11:42:00.002-07:002021-05-30T11:42:50.999-07:00Into the Dark <p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9kplADFj2s6j-fpgnGYB5gEO_FBLecdNTpgbySF_XJauz3Ucb0JKCnuCCUhIV9BmuBTI0GaG1W5KPZcLmKcZgeub5nI1sbvQ7pFXz3my0KdMSTPx6FWCsKZjqgiBkVvig7bsC7SMNDvd/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9kplADFj2s6j-fpgnGYB5gEO_FBLecdNTpgbySF_XJauz3Ucb0JKCnuCCUhIV9BmuBTI0GaG1W5KPZcLmKcZgeub5nI1sbvQ7pFXz3my0KdMSTPx6FWCsKZjqgiBkVvig7bsC7SMNDvd/w497-h373/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529+%25282%2529.jpg" width="497" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It
Was a Dark and Stormy Night<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob
ducked back into the doorway as fingers of ice rushed around him. Further back into the doorway eased the grip
of the icy wind as swirled down the street.
Bob pulled the collar of his coat up tighter around him to block the icy
fingers. The rain had let up, but the
blasts of air lingered, seeking the nooks and crannies of Bob’s soul. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">With
some warmth flowing around him again, Bob reached into his pocket. Ushering a cigarette forward, a lighter
followed, illuminating the cigarette. Smoke
rolled out from under his hat brim and the lit end of the cigarette glowed in
the dark gloom of the night. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob’s
gaze returned to the street, drifting off the way, the glow of the all night
station lights light up the dark. At the
other end, the marquee of the movie house was off, only the glow of the next
show posters gleamed out of the dark. The midnight horror show was underway.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The
ever present glow of the diner across the street brought Bob’s eyes back into
focus in the diner. The waitress was sitting
at her corner, rolling napkins. Cookie was
busy in the back, getting dishes ready for the next day. At the other end sat Phil, nursing his coffee
and has his conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Phil
had returned from the war all messed up.
His leg had been amputated because of a bomb explosion nearby. His buddies nearby had taken the brunt of the
explosion, protecting Phil. Phil had
survived, yet he hadn’t. He was in a
pile of dead bodies and or badly bleeding bodies. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The horrors
of that explosion left a mark on Phil that would not ease. Returning home, Phil was withdrawn and kept
to himself. He would walk the town,
shaking and with a distinctive of the wooden leg. The town had adopted Phil and watched out for
him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Tonight
was one of those nights for Phil. Stay
up all night, so he wouldn’t have to face the terrors of the night</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 22.0pt; line-height: 115%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-77752637697235797862021-05-22T23:37:00.004-07:002021-05-22T23:37:52.955-07:00Into The Dark <p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZCDgq4zByoaDQlCLB9MTnb6h8CYsoCartj_dK7cDjRMdUE7k58lRv2Eyqn-4LiF7pHJeeoPhaMZ3vMOpI-h0K4PO0NAc5i7J2f93JWOb0epr1st88_YZPIidn3ToO1OxWgsDvylbuH54/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZCDgq4zByoaDQlCLB9MTnb6h8CYsoCartj_dK7cDjRMdUE7k58lRv2Eyqn-4LiF7pHJeeoPhaMZ3vMOpI-h0K4PO0NAc5i7J2f93JWOb0epr1st88_YZPIidn3ToO1OxWgsDvylbuH54/w486-h365/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="486" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 22.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Into
The Dark<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway. Coat collar was turned up and hat drawn down
against the slashing gusts. His gaze
would travel up and down main street, ending at the bright lights of the diner across
the street. This time his eyes focused
on the little stream falling off the canopy over his head. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The awning
had been built in such a way, that the rainwater would flow across out off the
awning’s edge. Bob followed the drops
across the canopy as they gather to form a stream rolling off the edge of the
awning. With a loud ker splat the rivulets
spattered on the sidewalk, rolling across the walk to the curb and down into
the gutter. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Here
the water droplets disappeared, the storm gutter was swollen with the stormy
rain of the evening. Bob let his mind
wander and follow the storm water down the gutter to be swallowed by the storm
sewer. Bob let his mind’s eye gloat
along with the water. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Disappearing
into the grate of the storm sewer, the splashes would give way to the roar of
the micro flood in the sewer collector.
The water was racing down the h ill to get to the river first. Bob watched the water traveling at breakneck
speed. Soon the drain would open up into
a gully, for the rest of its journey to the river. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The
town was built on a rise overlooking the river, but the water flowed away from
the river. The gully took the water on a
long journey to the river of over a mile.
Once the river swallowed the gully water, it was a U-Turn. For now the water would flow downstream, passing
by the docks just below the town. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob’s
mind eye wanders back up to main street, leaving the rushing water behind. Through half closed eyes, the lights of the
diner were a dim glow. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway watching the street lights
reflect off the shine main street. <o:p></o:p></span></p></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-14157574787594002021-05-16T00:59:00.003-07:002021-05-16T00:59:38.747-07:00Into the Dark<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcPQiCLUOEXw0mIzF_WAUs18SbVUiN_8-D1l9RO-pca86yTgDmXhkY2FkGBdjqOoJFalyDX5DkJGbQWoR7xpmRAzNY7Ml0Rt8HJSuVUgIK58KL0RqjwWWxUn7BNpti855T8esfnjW9NAd/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcPQiCLUOEXw0mIzF_WAUs18SbVUiN_8-D1l9RO-pca86yTgDmXhkY2FkGBdjqOoJFalyDX5DkJGbQWoR7xpmRAzNY7Ml0Rt8HJSuVUgIK58KL0RqjwWWxUn7BNpti855T8esfnjW9NAd/w519-h390/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="519" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dark
and Stormy Night <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway, watching the wind ripple
through the raindrops. Collar tuned up, hat pulled low, Bob peered out at the
shimmering street, the street lights made small circular mirrors in the
rippling water. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob’s
gaze roamed up the street, watching the ever changing shimmering of the
tumbling water. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Across
the way, the all night dinner’s lights flickered off the shiny sidewalk in
front. There was almost no movement inside,
Phil sat at station, counters corner, the waitress was the other end, rolling
flatware into napkins, through the order window, cookie could be seen shuffling
about the kitchen and the dishwasher was nowhere to be seen, probably out back
grabbing a smoke. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bob
turned back into the doorway, rustling inside his overcoat and pulled out a
cigarette. Out of the pant pocket came
the lighter, hunched against the wind the flame could be seen flickering in the
dark door way. Bob retuned his attention
to the street, cigarette cupped in his hand.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Main
street at night was usually pretty empty and tonight was no different. Down by the movie house were a few parked
cars. Bob’s gazed rolled down main
street, looking at the store fronts. At the other end were a few parked cars in
front a huge two story building. This
was the rooming house where Phil stayed.
It was also home to a few iterant workers, passing through town. Day jobs could be found down at the river
docks on occasion and there were other day jobs to keep the tramps busy but
moving on. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Taking
a puff on the smoke, Bob’s eyes wandered down the street to the gas
station. The lights of the gas station
glared into the falling raindrops. Just
beyond the gas station could be seen the highway. Most of the headlights whizzed past but
occasionally a car would stop and take on fuel and stretch their legs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">It was
another night in town as the glow from Bob’s cigarette lit his face ever so
slightly. Leaning against the corner of
the doorway, Bob’s eyes returned to the diner.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> </div><p><br /> </p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-16667724997597979882021-05-08T13:57:00.003-07:002021-05-08T13:57:22.521-07:00into the dark<p> </p><p><br /></p><p></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuf0q6PFshvVWtp9NGdPFuBP8E5vbIpKTGaYf7xrxfH3SP7nkXjoA-BwcXmjSgQ6SwUHlgNKxIrL0K6U3F4hoe_RUsqIpjyDwAGtSiTTHkeUPgW3Y3vDm_EwfU8WIELn11TTF_Bmpa-j9D/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuf0q6PFshvVWtp9NGdPFuBP8E5vbIpKTGaYf7xrxfH3SP7nkXjoA-BwcXmjSgQ6SwUHlgNKxIrL0K6U3F4hoe_RUsqIpjyDwAGtSiTTHkeUPgW3Y3vDm_EwfU8WIELn11TTF_Bmpa-j9D/w457-h343/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="457" /></a></div></blockquote><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 26.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It Was A Dark And Stormy Night<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the
doorway. His gaze roamed the darkness of
Main Street, Pausing at the lights on the corner. The only other lights were in
the all night diner across the street.
Bob’s eyes drifting across the dark landscape came to a stop on the
sidewalk in front of him. The rain drops from the awning overhead, spattered on
to walk in front. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joining the other drops of rain, a small course of
water was formed as it scurried across the walk to join the stream in the gutter. Ever onward down the hill the water flowed,
splashing into the storm sewer at the far corner. Bob let his mind wander on this stormy night
with the water drops traveling down the hill.
Bob’s mind could hear the splashing of the water tumbling along in the
storm sewer. The roar of the storm
water, raced through Bob’s thoughts. In
the images of the mind, Bob watched the water course its way to the river below
the bluff. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Slowly Bob rolled out of his water journey and
returned to main street to watch it rain.
His gaze returned to the diner across the way.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As his gaze traveled along the front window Bob
could only spy three people. The
waitress sat at the end of the counter.
In front of her were buckets of silverware, a stack of napkins and a tub
to put the rolled utensils into. She sat
there, mindlessly rolling the napkins and placing the finished ware into the
tub. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></p><p>
</p><p><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;">At the other end of the counter sat Phil, hunched
over, telling a story to his cup of coffee. Cookie could be seen in the back,
scrubbing down his grill.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span> </p><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-71105705916649129712021-04-27T13:36:00.004-07:002021-04-27T13:39:34.950-07:00Into the Dark<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCV1OGUmQjBdqssh6xP9w3S6Ml9r23DqyBd1BwWG0iUBgIMIYkDZ8Zk9_CrwRMbDRKbGsVAPf7xn7uNl1c9dB-rzE3B3ePRxR7PUORGNvqiBEtcm191Ii6NFZgkPNGDR1bbSiwa1rDZ5F/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCV1OGUmQjBdqssh6xP9w3S6Ml9r23DqyBd1BwWG0iUBgIMIYkDZ8Zk9_CrwRMbDRKbGsVAPf7xn7uNl1c9dB-rzE3B3ePRxR7PUORGNvqiBEtcm191Ii6NFZgkPNGDR1bbSiwa1rDZ5F/w401-h301/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="401" /></a></div><br /><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It
was a Dark and Stormy night <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe tilted his head to the side as he rounded the
corner onto Main Street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here on the
main drag downtown, Joe would have some protection from the swirling rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It a dark and stormy night as Joe marked his
steps down the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Across the street, the marquee from the movie
house was dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the light of the
lobby, Joe could see the attendant cleaning up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Soon the movie would be over and the movie goers would head out the
front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Leaning into the wind, Joe continued his journey
down the walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the corner he paused,
glancing off to the left, he could see the line of streetlights marching off
the end of town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The headlights to his
right caught his attention and he stood on the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lone car turned and headed for the lights
of the gas station couple of blocks down the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Crossing the street, Joe’s attention shifted to
the diner across the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights of
the diner, glared out onto the walk, producing a daylight look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On down the street Joe walked, turning into
a doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here Joe was out of the
elements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glancing across the street at
the diner, Joe fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A flame flashed in front of Joe’s face,
revealing a cigarette dangling from his lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The flame disappeared, revealing a glow in the front of Joe’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Smoke swirled out of the doorway to be blasted
away by the stormy wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Settled into
the doorway, Joe returned his gaze to the diner across the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-8479850783256821672021-04-21T14:40:00.001-07:002021-04-21T14:40:31.343-07:00into the dark <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5AgSxHjs3F5zPh_SWLloxS0YXYBeR39feZ7ejVWcVZZEmXM1yFVwYSPl5jidxIJ2txVoYlyA7Xc4cjveOzt6mdSIgcxjl_i5GrPLX1gqmrg4bFXJvSC4zD9JygCRn6dhOmbkHniY9I0r/s640/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5AgSxHjs3F5zPh_SWLloxS0YXYBeR39feZ7ejVWcVZZEmXM1yFVwYSPl5jidxIJ2txVoYlyA7Xc4cjveOzt6mdSIgcxjl_i5GrPLX1gqmrg4bFXJvSC4zD9JygCRn6dhOmbkHniY9I0r/w417-h313/DSC07482+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="417" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 22.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Stormy
Night<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a dark and stormy night as Bob waited in
the doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His gaze was fixed on the
all night diner across the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
misting drops, smattered on the blackened roadway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drops of rain spattered on the canopy Bob
stood under.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In silence, Bob stood
there, listening of the drifting drops of rain float down the awning onto the
sidewalk and across to the gutter. Bob’s gaze moved up and down the street,
eyeing the occasional passing car. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The movies house down on the next block had just
let out and people were drifting to the dinner or their cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the young couples wander into the diner,
Bob shifted to the other side of the doorway. Reaching under his topcoat, Bob
slipped out a cigarette, carefully shielding it as he placed it on his
lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Using his hat to shield some of
the moisture, Bob reached in to his pants pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a flash of light and the cigarette
was lit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bob straightened up, his look returned to the
diner across the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The couples from the movie house were seated
and very animated in conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe
the local janitor sat at his end of the counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon he would go down the street and begin
his job of cleaning the office building a few doors down the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hal from the all night gas station sat a
couple of seats away, having his coffee and pie before heading off to work. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a dark and stormy night as Bob huddled in
the doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cold fingers of the wind
would find it way into Bob’s doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shuddering a bit, Bob pulled his collar up,
flicking his finished cigarette into the gutter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Edging out of the doorway, the solitary
figure glanced down the vacant street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On this dark and stormy night, downtown was enveloped in silence of rain
smattering off the buildings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-40759268505001788512020-10-25T08:16:00.007-07:002020-10-25T08:16:59.134-07:00Adena, Colorado <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1utSKCRCC0tH_DKN26mwoXBNCBPEZtlFEbN0sWoru2pNORSWR3sbx8WuoSQc72tL5LO0RTxm9zpfyWmS-tinHb1Ukg4zTUaxr9PK3yIEBw85pPpK3hzmKnSdmdQMXq8Fg4flBE92uLvk8/s1280/DSC06682+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1utSKCRCC0tH_DKN26mwoXBNCBPEZtlFEbN0sWoru2pNORSWR3sbx8WuoSQc72tL5LO0RTxm9zpfyWmS-tinHb1Ukg4zTUaxr9PK3yIEBw85pPpK3hzmKnSdmdQMXq8Fg4flBE92uLvk8/s320/DSC06682+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Adena, Colo.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
farming community of Adena, is located along the southern edge of Morgan
County.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not much can be found about this
community but one can speculate based on similar places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Located
on the banks of a small creek, there is not much left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one room school still stands and there
are footers/foundations in the weeds and rubble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The name Adena probably came from the settler
that first had the post office contract for the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgIDki9-LOYrnCcFEgndeYCqK-ZhQoZx7_9q8Pg9tLV81Y2ISg0FmlXqe4P_K554vOCrWZ99JLJNLDzKzPP8tyjZ3wolRDY9wQIiTMVIK0itbRz5w2wgzBpesh5nywfc_zH99BRrv1iEY/s1280/DSC06646+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgIDki9-LOYrnCcFEgndeYCqK-ZhQoZx7_9q8Pg9tLV81Y2ISg0FmlXqe4P_K554vOCrWZ99JLJNLDzKzPP8tyjZ3wolRDY9wQIiTMVIK0itbRz5w2wgzBpesh5nywfc_zH99BRrv1iEY/w403-h302/DSC06646+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="403" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">From
this small rural post office, the community probably grew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nearest town of any size is if about 30
miles away or better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides the
school, Adena probably had a general store to accommodate the post office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May have been a blacksmith and when the autos
showed up a gas station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Often
there would be a community barn for hosting social events, card parties,
dances, quilting bee’s… etc. To the north, about 3-4 miles, is the Adena
community church, out back is small graveyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YIaRhum05AHMYb9R_rtRmFkLoTeRAAK03zxh2lFgxQtg8AtduoGyqz6ihBHi_s3ZM-q4ptZWG304ASIdRYwPl2gH94QH1yHxyxEoTIss5sMNLBkiHE2-Ipas6faOjL69FJD2CrR3KI5X/s1280/DSC06688+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YIaRhum05AHMYb9R_rtRmFkLoTeRAAK03zxh2lFgxQtg8AtduoGyqz6ihBHi_s3ZM-q4ptZWG304ASIdRYwPl2gH94QH1yHxyxEoTIss5sMNLBkiHE2-Ipas6faOjL69FJD2CrR3KI5X/w433-h325/DSC06688+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="433" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Being
along side of a creek, means it was downhill in the morning for the
students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the afternoon, for the
return walk home it was uphill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unless
you home was downstream on the same creek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
farmers plow around the area where the community had been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are a few trees there plus the
rubble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The school will stand until it
tumbles for it is not taxed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one
room school had a few additions over the years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The one room is now a two room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So there was provably good sized settlement in the area at one
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkKNkJG1kp7fdY8gimDuJuoiKGMRD5wapiysMy6eORRq-ITkNVF4G84snKuUx7jI8KKes6gZA1032zZ1gm481dghtqh_qTMpOPpCXub5Wk7WMEiugilvMfKoHFTaGG7PY_ymkm_VznJdt/s1280/DSC06650+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkKNkJG1kp7fdY8gimDuJuoiKGMRD5wapiysMy6eORRq-ITkNVF4G84snKuUx7jI8KKes6gZA1032zZ1gm481dghtqh_qTMpOPpCXub5Wk7WMEiugilvMfKoHFTaGG7PY_ymkm_VznJdt/s320/DSC06650+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today
the breezes float over the land, giving the birds currents to glide on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-71809414213525887452020-10-04T11:48:00.002-07:002020-10-04T11:48:37.642-07:00Hoyt Colorado... Twice <p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1hFZIN-7i655i1d4KuMurYwszFpFUlZ_DHUVyKZI151KnID8vjpFj5hKYOCvFEpPHlcDweGYoIbp0QybW9Egk_vI5O3LYOfjQIYAeOjnHksaBR6CwQNIaYxpBzgj9KGS2DzqnRpl4WHv/s1280/DSCN9878+%25281280x950%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1hFZIN-7i655i1d4KuMurYwszFpFUlZ_DHUVyKZI151KnID8vjpFj5hKYOCvFEpPHlcDweGYoIbp0QybW9Egk_vI5O3LYOfjQIYAeOjnHksaBR6CwQNIaYxpBzgj9KGS2DzqnRpl4WHv/s320/DSCN9878+%25281280x950%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Hoyt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Mom’s town<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">&<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Sonnies<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hoyt,
Colorado is a tale of two towns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One in
Kit Carson County, the other in Morgan County, the most familiar one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Doctor
Hoyt was an enterprising gentleman, He developed two towns, neither really
survived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one in Kit Carson County
was built along the Hugo Wagon Road in the Republican River valley. </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">This town he named after himself, according
to stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doctor Hoyt’s town did not
last very long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The railroad came through
to the south of town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The townspeople
wanted to be next to the rails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So they
picked up their town and moved it south a few miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Meeting
disappointment, Dr. Hoyt moved on, to the north.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Morgan County, the ambitious doctor
started another town, this one he named after his mother, Mrs. Hoyt, It appears
the Mrs. was dropped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to
stories, this Hoyt was established in 1904.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So a second Hoyt came into existence, it appears to of existed for a
time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKi9oP4fGldq5P20nLFdQIYtTgrZ_hUNUW_RsezMmmqxPpTt9FTQmfZhmtWFV9SX6eTAL77zfK18sL-rGqPC6IwgZKRzJg-3ujy8qVqV-a22RMm9ey20xfSwLMADGlwDKWp2vRXXCcYbe/s1280/DSCN9871+%25281280x952%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="1280" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKi9oP4fGldq5P20nLFdQIYtTgrZ_hUNUW_RsezMmmqxPpTt9FTQmfZhmtWFV9SX6eTAL77zfK18sL-rGqPC6IwgZKRzJg-3ujy8qVqV-a22RMm9ey20xfSwLMADGlwDKWp2vRXXCcYbe/w408-h303/DSCN9871+%25281280x952%2529.jpg" width="408" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today
Hoyt is an unincorporated village in the Platte Valley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is an assortment of neglected homes and
farms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are still a few residents
that call Hoyt home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For well weathered
building, Hoyt is a good place, for they have an extensive collection of old
weathered stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
other Hoyt is pretty vacant, there are footers and foundations that remind
folks there were building there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First
Hoyt sits in private property, just off Hwy 59.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One
thing, Hoyt’s name lives on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R5yCCa7BJcNCgnUT0o9ARw9rDGdxfhtFR8EEaezMYQ-sc74SsD05lZBj4y9xGEt9OmNVWpvHs1GIXAwk-hF0PO2oabdMMhVoN_LQCgzdhb7yWuN4IwdBmbSf29TbBJxJ7lniYbsXMmsl/s1280/DSCN9872+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R5yCCa7BJcNCgnUT0o9ARw9rDGdxfhtFR8EEaezMYQ-sc74SsD05lZBj4y9xGEt9OmNVWpvHs1GIXAwk-hF0PO2oabdMMhVoN_LQCgzdhb7yWuN4IwdBmbSf29TbBJxJ7lniYbsXMmsl/w429-h322/DSCN9872+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="429" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-74056244097399112602020-09-27T14:21:00.003-07:002020-09-27T14:21:46.562-07:00Yesterday's School<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkoDkYzqrAXqpkItGGU1wLPFgiDpWWdbgmcDS_avdycWGC9iASz526FCqoSUKRMRKs7lANvii2K9Qt28jX6ZS3PIEZ1IvfQIFM3h_xlGc6oDeXmO_B-oPpqGyFpEmske2bjC-qL_Q6VMD/s2048/DSCN9964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkoDkYzqrAXqpkItGGU1wLPFgiDpWWdbgmcDS_avdycWGC9iASz526FCqoSUKRMRKs7lANvii2K9Qt28jX6ZS3PIEZ1IvfQIFM3h_xlGc6oDeXmO_B-oPpqGyFpEmske2bjC-qL_Q6VMD/s320/DSCN9964.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">School <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">In The
Country<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Scattered
across the high plains of Colorado are variety of old country schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few have survived and are still sitting on their
spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others have moved and have new
uses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This school appears to be sitting
on its original spot and worse for wear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Time and the elements are slowly bringing it back to nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">School
districts were usually based on a township, 36 sections, one section set aside
as school land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most school land was
pasture land and the monies from its lease went to the school district.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is probably why the building is still
standing, it is not a tax liability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was probably built around 1915, plus or minus a few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
it was constructed, there were few more folks in the area then today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were usually one family per half
section but not all homesteaders made, had to sell out and move on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That still would have left about 30 families
in the district. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the road
intersection there could have been three families at the corner and more within
a mile or two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK2lb4salp55mNuuXuBBACHp8KJoKl6H9GzKjt9_QhBlKBszykNJwhwcKOPtwNpJJjiAZxj-5HucdWxnfzgbHvQoLD9OGvnlx-GpMQx7u_rt-3GYTNlhKdmkxLqi0xArygVIRYXES7jrH/s1280/DSCN9961+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK2lb4salp55mNuuXuBBACHp8KJoKl6H9GzKjt9_QhBlKBszykNJwhwcKOPtwNpJJjiAZxj-5HucdWxnfzgbHvQoLD9OGvnlx-GpMQx7u_rt-3GYTNlhKdmkxLqi0xArygVIRYXES7jrH/s320/DSCN9961+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
would of it been like to go to school here, more then a hundred years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There would be no buses back then, so walking
was the transport mode.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe ride the
horse bareback down to the fence and walk rest of the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen to the coyotes as you walk along, the
distinct odor of the polecat, sidestep the rattler or maybe sing with the birds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The winter all bundled up, trudge over the prairie,
leaning into the wind, books tightly gripped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There would have been path across the pasture or around the fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look at the background of the picture and
take a mile and half walk across the land.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
were no lunchrooms, so lunch was what the kids carried. Using a lard pail or
wrapped in a cloth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Food was homemade,
nothing store bought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no
thermos bottles back then, so water or kool aid was the drink, often from a
canteen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mom
and dad probably had not gone to school so homework the parents were learning
with their children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often story time
was one of the youngsters reading for the parents could not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time the first one was in the 6<sup>th</sup>
grade, mom and dad were usually pretty good readers and good at
arithmetic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sixth grade was the
graduation for most boys, a few girls went on to 6<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys were to help dad with the
farmwork.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With busses, the children
could go into town and finish high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of the farm boys in WWII had only a sixth grade education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sounds
harsh, yet these youngsters survived and went on to be grandparents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAqb1sM-ZkpZW_bIlRdrOxXL6N7d61kxwSNl3EEZiHoMQ1jsdd2zOE_l6PQIwprB1LoJr13H6n98ad1O__0pZ6ZRBgb3QeUGJpOr6BLIiI9Cd1jlAAsw9GZiya9Y_KavSjJsZVtas8bRp/s1280/DSCN9959+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAqb1sM-ZkpZW_bIlRdrOxXL6N7d61kxwSNl3EEZiHoMQ1jsdd2zOE_l6PQIwprB1LoJr13H6n98ad1O__0pZ6ZRBgb3QeUGJpOr6BLIiI9Cd1jlAAsw9GZiya9Y_KavSjJsZVtas8bRp/s320/DSCN9959+%25281280x960%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-21975547170040717162020-09-12T09:38:00.003-07:002020-09-12T09:38:43.286-07:00Shamrock <p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkPUhGMmHxQFcXYXpYn8jLGlWwxUKgAfAf_HkJeCRZ_X2RUcSWeuU6gq2rb4i7JJGJSKIhKBZMw7ol_b31kmLAWm3W76MZYxS2jgzqFriSTP-UPWVBupYGQI77Nug9uzJHIq4d176hg30/s640/DSCN9917+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkPUhGMmHxQFcXYXpYn8jLGlWwxUKgAfAf_HkJeCRZ_X2RUcSWeuU6gq2rb4i7JJGJSKIhKBZMw7ol_b31kmLAWm3W76MZYxS2jgzqFriSTP-UPWVBupYGQI77Nug9uzJHIq4d176hg30/w400-h300/DSCN9917+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shamrock
Colorado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Located at the far eastern end of 104<sup>th</sup>
ave, the town of Shamrock has almost disappeared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The county has a road shop there and that
pretty much keeps the little town on the map.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I went through the area years ago, there
were a few buildings still standing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Today, a schoolhouse is still there, the county building and a couple of
homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one room school is gone as
are the other stores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmMg71t2tq3YJjX5TcYfx-R7SmhKJ_VtH6DnUtDO07ove7ZPY-L04GSYSAXT8SPjc3u_F2M5Go2nJHhkh0INBdXKvb8m4sMFcqBh110fS_IXNJTfm-iXoo5BJg7CczkGWNSp_m_lnFh6e/s640/DSCN9919+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmMg71t2tq3YJjX5TcYfx-R7SmhKJ_VtH6DnUtDO07ove7ZPY-L04GSYSAXT8SPjc3u_F2M5Go2nJHhkh0INBdXKvb8m4sMFcqBh110fS_IXNJTfm-iXoo5BJg7CczkGWNSp_m_lnFh6e/s320/DSCN9919+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The school house that still stands, appears to be
a storage shed and well maintained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
the flag pole was in use, displaying Old Glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">South of the town is a WWII memorial, in the
empty field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During WWII a bomber
training flight from Lowery crashed in the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Memorial was built and dedicated to the
crew of the crashed bomber.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It appears
to have a caretaker, the flags are replaced and ground, cared for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnkeL_pKFvdlhiMjO8gPV_8NkntCX8k9W2uNB-PF7AsZrjN3bIpCxlNSgYaGPgAaeoH36dJl7rJ0TIEeFBSnJmmkCUHxgdlEWun0puGJW0pG6FBVqAhY2XPBD1MqZTh6b1j_M9lAPpCCf/s640/DSCN9923+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnkeL_pKFvdlhiMjO8gPV_8NkntCX8k9W2uNB-PF7AsZrjN3bIpCxlNSgYaGPgAaeoH36dJl7rJ0TIEeFBSnJmmkCUHxgdlEWun0puGJW0pG6FBVqAhY2XPBD1MqZTh6b1j_M9lAPpCCf/w500-h375/DSCN9923+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-18610612957906453752020-08-21T14:34:00.001-07:002020-08-21T14:34:48.262-07:00Prairie Ghost town <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqNKwvG_NCy_OjTGWVNJtsYK91PZBdERLHHPm4TVMCmO3UtMbx3rtH1doxmRxClTFjkswWtbKfgHMAhLg283T_JCRu3FjWg5IBby3XvHqvv76CBa-WM3KNJsVdxtNoX5EB79yGnihfrJD/s640/DSCN9576+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqNKwvG_NCy_OjTGWVNJtsYK91PZBdERLHHPm4TVMCmO3UtMbx3rtH1doxmRxClTFjkswWtbKfgHMAhLg283T_JCRu3FjWg5IBby3XvHqvv76CBa-WM3KNJsVdxtNoX5EB79yGnihfrJD/s0/DSCN9576+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Vona,
Colorado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Across the plains of eastern
Colorado are many little burgs that are slowly settling in to dusty
memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early 1900 through the 1920’s
these little towns were in their heyday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Main street was a busy place with shops and stores in downtown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buggies and the new fangled horseless
carriage shared the main avenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
the great depression hit the country and life on the prairie would change for
the depression ushered in the dust bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What had once been prosperous land became pile of blowing dust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No longer could folks pay their debts, banks foreclosed
and people lost their livelihood. Life had evolved into a desperate situation
of trying to survive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Vona was located along the railroad
line of the Rock Island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the
homestead law changed, the little town of Vona was ready for the new
settlers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The railroad brought supplies
and product was shipped via the railway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Vona became a thriving farm town on the high plains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A town government was formed and utilities
were placed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A school was built and into
the 20<sup>th</sup> century Vona moved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After the dirty 30, dreams began to
fade and with the drought of the 50’s many sold out and moved on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dream of a country town began to fade
into the murky recess of dreams lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Today Vona is home to a few dozen
residents, but most of the business have closed up and moved on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Post Office is still open as is town hall
to manage the utilities and streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>City
park is across the street from town hall and is maintained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQzW1Ls2gSlxxSr2s386saBq7cfvSuVKXnQ9LwMvQY39bgIK1Xr0_Oyo-lQBosRI1H8I9koULxieaCAEJk6xbj_c0Xwg8cKsokKiIVHwXuzpKku8OksNRW-d2SddUn9_J8B7ycjLdgI8C/s640/DSCN9582+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQzW1Ls2gSlxxSr2s386saBq7cfvSuVKXnQ9LwMvQY39bgIK1Xr0_Oyo-lQBosRI1H8I9koULxieaCAEJk6xbj_c0Xwg8cKsokKiIVHwXuzpKku8OksNRW-d2SddUn9_J8B7ycjLdgI8C/s0/DSCN9582+%2528640x477%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBeFiD7bNypPUZZkfihlYE95d-qGro-UON47TXwx3plY0ZJHX8UP9lJuTdnaBYFpWQrXsa5HWB4TwMlonjBTfpFoqXJNvRAXK_Zon0qM2qOgICzSzLk-mnX7s2joeOi5k5lXG5DQUqCNuQ/s640/DSCN9588+%2528640x473%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="473" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBeFiD7bNypPUZZkfihlYE95d-qGro-UON47TXwx3plY0ZJHX8UP9lJuTdnaBYFpWQrXsa5HWB4TwMlonjBTfpFoqXJNvRAXK_Zon0qM2qOgICzSzLk-mnX7s2joeOi5k5lXG5DQUqCNuQ/s0/DSCN9588+%2528640x473%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>During the 60’s, Interstate 70 was
under construction it completely by passed the little town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The building of the Interstate was the knell
of demise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the old highway, the gas
station hung on until the caretakers could no longer manage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grain elevator shuttered up a couple of
years earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Across the corner is the
junk dealer in the gulley with appliances strewn about awaiting the fate to the
scrap pile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mani street has a few buildings,
most are empty and store a variety of stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the empty buildings had goats in a pen beside it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly the winds of past times float across
the roofs whistling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVGJbtNx2B0fWEq13NhpKrrztfod0ED7sPB0mcUgHTs2Q_2X8rK72SNTxx_VsK8nECK7wNv6guheaPJsZvbwvA-ZxSWcRZuJ4ZCeo032hfx-0g5lDFwHjYtZi6-9MxSN-g7afLG0qusfm/s2048/DSCN9592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVGJbtNx2B0fWEq13NhpKrrztfod0ED7sPB0mcUgHTs2Q_2X8rK72SNTxx_VsK8nECK7wNv6guheaPJsZvbwvA-ZxSWcRZuJ4ZCeo032hfx-0g5lDFwHjYtZi6-9MxSN-g7afLG0qusfm/s640/DSCN9592.JPG" /></a></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On a knoll overlooking the town is
the water tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the more unique towers
and probably one of the smallest tanks ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Next to it is a large steel tank, possibly auxiliary supply and behind
is the new replacement water tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
old water tower was designated a historic land mark because of its
uniqueness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There are the few who still live in
Vona, it is a quiet village, where people still go about life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQdDs7BoPyMWc4p_DTdTg26FzXdw4qR7XxCTVx0zN8Pa_nGCCaqI1cjXfUzRGI5O4ZzIoMDOou0jh8jQGPYxFhJ2DfAPeh7_NrrDw49PVwb86kmBXLh0NQQT6TISB4Vq8jm9g124QLLWg/s640/DSCN9583+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQdDs7BoPyMWc4p_DTdTg26FzXdw4qR7XxCTVx0zN8Pa_nGCCaqI1cjXfUzRGI5O4ZzIoMDOou0jh8jQGPYxFhJ2DfAPeh7_NrrDw49PVwb86kmBXLh0NQQT6TISB4Vq8jm9g124QLLWg/s0/DSCN9583+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7211432835416771321.post-40275710844203717122020-08-09T15:31:00.001-07:002020-08-09T15:31:46.032-07:00Church Community <p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0S2K9tHyTGl5WKWqhTtm_Epz9ImIwFuSbf_izwAsIVsyG0TxvT2-4ZOM66uXENm44Y-ul1jPTZBgBrkaFsuoTSIFKdRbaW_rRAup3HaalA-lqd-qAgB7U5DjN19TfrsH2sJigg15vse7/s640/DSCN9717+%2528640x386%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="386" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0S2K9tHyTGl5WKWqhTtm_Epz9ImIwFuSbf_izwAsIVsyG0TxvT2-4ZOM66uXENm44Y-ul1jPTZBgBrkaFsuoTSIFKdRbaW_rRAup3HaalA-lqd-qAgB7U5DjN19TfrsH2sJigg15vse7/s0/DSCN9717+%2528640x386%2529.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shiloh
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shiloh was a small church community located in the Northwest
section of Kit Carson County, CO.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
church still stands, in serious neglect and appears to of been abandoned more
then 50 years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out behind is the
graveyard, again neglected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Weeds hide
the markers and critters burrow here and there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It appears no descendents from the community still
live in the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Steel pipes mark the
edges of the graveyard to keep the farm from encroaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The prairie winds flow unfettered thorough the roof
and open windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having withstood the
elements over the decades the little tattered building is a reminder, when
dreams and hopes filled the land. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whispering
winds filter through the open boards, rustling the memories of other
times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUxBBIGO4yVcwSoQZjRnhoiLfPnX3fxEMgJqia5KIHSDKtRDvzX0aPBOiekNgNjkNCgVpNkkk_7Q5Dltfni2S3sdo04zb1chXf6t6rItN_Jjx9Cy7LwkwXgnbj40m8ui1PfqQ-scnJJdLL/s2048/DSCN9713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUxBBIGO4yVcwSoQZjRnhoiLfPnX3fxEMgJqia5KIHSDKtRDvzX0aPBOiekNgNjkNCgVpNkkk_7Q5Dltfni2S3sdo04zb1chXf6t6rItN_Jjx9Cy7LwkwXgnbj40m8ui1PfqQ-scnJJdLL/s640/DSCN9713.JPG" /></a></div>Old farm machinery resides in the side yard<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzDF7cyxhpFjJQ8chgaY0jlugWmArHW9hp0nD5R9W0KtTkFnmqiYaSVr0iVL9alycBFRBzXr59uDbrtkdu0TpZYcaBlVvYQGp83ZwZwcs-Flu_U0E9UQ399k-h252YAojrMUhhh_swj4a/s640/DSCN9698+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzDF7cyxhpFjJQ8chgaY0jlugWmArHW9hp0nD5R9W0KtTkFnmqiYaSVr0iVL9alycBFRBzXr59uDbrtkdu0TpZYcaBlVvYQGp83ZwZwcs-Flu_U0E9UQ399k-h252YAojrMUhhh_swj4a/s0/DSCN9698+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" /></a></div>Old wooden plaster lath is revealed as time takes its toll on the church.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqfDIQJ7jn007HIwxug3t-H9JOJ1IhmWRl6a6Jv_BcuuXuRLwMLJR4R5cjDoAdGJO6G-PJj0IzKIQXFfrZymYrtI3Z7RX1tDwsdr6FWiMQFn1pZ1dEBdofMOcioOpmWvwLn70C4gcDlRzi/s640/DSCN9701+%2528640x400%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqfDIQJ7jn007HIwxug3t-H9JOJ1IhmWRl6a6Jv_BcuuXuRLwMLJR4R5cjDoAdGJO6G-PJj0IzKIQXFfrZymYrtI3Z7RX1tDwsdr6FWiMQFn1pZ1dEBdofMOcioOpmWvwLn70C4gcDlRzi/s0/DSCN9701+%2528640x400%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif39zrZWfxvfLax6qzamS4dGXLoh2q2F562DCO31p3I2-4FBtO6Pg4eImy1eS3vf4PSxxTzhh_0nQMAGw90BO5WxrhAtLaWprijX5bXfUUyvTu8ZZgMcdGFXJ7jIoIR000ZFJRJXUABBuE/s640/DSCN9702+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif39zrZWfxvfLax6qzamS4dGXLoh2q2F562DCO31p3I2-4FBtO6Pg4eImy1eS3vf4PSxxTzhh_0nQMAGw90BO5WxrhAtLaWprijX5bXfUUyvTu8ZZgMcdGFXJ7jIoIR000ZFJRJXUABBuE/s0/DSCN9702+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" /></a></div>The out house has gone to rest in its repository. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7-KSm1nxMcsKVamW2w1piCXJjCYWGYaMCoOcUBjzk8pgR4ypjh4ezPnPxYufSspIICn9btSX9ZvSyhgqDcXaHa_rnGipTSusqMpn1-6FkVwyJ94hMzgPv8A0ikzIOxiXwPWdRI_YLExH/s640/DSCN9705+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7-KSm1nxMcsKVamW2w1piCXJjCYWGYaMCoOcUBjzk8pgR4ypjh4ezPnPxYufSspIICn9btSX9ZvSyhgqDcXaHa_rnGipTSusqMpn1-6FkVwyJ94hMzgPv8A0ikzIOxiXwPWdRI_YLExH/s0/DSCN9705+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s0/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;">Among the weeds are a the few headstones. </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT4CfdwaGzRmhEt3ngNY5wnD7uNl7BTBpZzQgbyJJ8Gxpi5AuMQt5Hg1pDfKCmqBaAGUBxbV5_8gto60MsDrHgA8UQ4ynG9LWtcbjv3yK4PEutlcmJkip4gb1rDxM25sPT9cf46TQsBBa/s640/DSCN9695+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT4CfdwaGzRmhEt3ngNY5wnD7uNl7BTBpZzQgbyJJ8Gxpi5AuMQt5Hg1pDfKCmqBaAGUBxbV5_8gto60MsDrHgA8UQ4ynG9LWtcbjv3yK4PEutlcmJkip4gb1rDxM25sPT9cf46TQsBBa/s0/DSCN9695+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7dCprnLGx3X_OY_n5aclyDgk4kuco5ZNa6JxkNtNnFdx5CePb78SNUKcDDH55FyMtp_Rzj46CCIXt1neVSQBKY0FIFTAazrOkMFrlHsMyZn2lPBTfN6mzSYZM89Z36RoxHnup4KEfj4k/s640/DSCN9707+%2528480x640%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><br /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>john bordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01202096303366476728noreply@blogger.com0