I returned to my car and slipped behind the steering wheel. I had already hiked several miles and was looking forward to getting back to my hotel room and resting before dinner. As I began to take the turn and leave the area surrounding the Grebel Ponds at Fort Robinson State Park behind me, I noticed a large, dark figure come over the top of a nearby ridge to my left. I stopped the car and squinted into the distance. A lone bison was wandering down the slope of the hill, stopping momentarily, here and there, for a bite to eat. It paid no attention to me.
Author: Irene Page 16 of 47
As birthdays go, this one wasn’t too terrible. For decades, my birthday was never celbrated. I didn’t have any friends to celebrate and the most I had was my mom calling me at 8:19 a.m., East Coast time to sing “Happy Birthday” to me. Today, was a good one.
When I was a child, I called her Grammy. All of my cousins did, too. As we grew older, she became Gram. All of our friends called her Gram. She is and will always be the biggest influence on my character.
Although I don’t produce the volumes of writing I did when I was a daily reporter, I am still quite pleased with the recognition of my writing from Nebraska Press Women. I entered 13 articles this year, about half what I used to enter. I received 10 awards. All first place awards go on to the National Federation of Press Women contest. I will know those results mid-June.
As a journalist, you need to be as accurate as possible. Most of the time, this is an easy task. It requires simple searches to find documented answers. It get more complicated when you start digging into history.