A butterfly soars above the ground along the path to the Belmont Tunnel.
Each year, the Sioux County Historical Society Museum in Harrison, Nebraska hosts a historical tour around a portion of the county. This year’s trip took us around the eastern part of the county with highlights about the early-day settlers of Sioux County, family plots, schools, the Agate to Andrews Mail Route, and stops in Marsland and Belmont.
“I gave you a B+ in my class instead of an A because I wanted you to participate more,” my poetry professor said. “You’re really good and have great insights, but you need to talk more.”
It made me angry. I was a junior in college and had heard similar comments from teachers and professors since the first day I stepped into kindergarten. I thought college professors were supposed to be enlightened and understanding of the different ways kids learn. I was wrong.
Longform stories are some of my favorite articles to read on the internet. It is some of the best writing you will find online. The stories typically contain illustrations, photography, interactives, and an engaging story.
I normally do this list twice a year, but as I looked at it the other day, I realized it had quickly grown in size. There are also many stories that are relevant to now and I don’t want to wait until the end of the year to share them. If this continues, I may change this list to once a month.
You can still read Part 1, which has some great stories.
My only foray into Texas was a quick three-day visit to Dallas. Paul and I visited the School Book Depository building and took a tour. As I leaned as best as I could to see out the window I said, “Nope. Not possible. I’m a good shot and I couldn’t have done that.” With those few words, I had solved the case. Lee Harvey Oswald couldn’t have done it alone.
I’ve met a few Texans since then, mostly in passing. Over the past two years, however, there have been three Texans who worked in the local media, two at the Star-Herald.
The phone rings, echoing throughout the dining room. “Ugh,” Paul and I say in unison. I feel myself tense up. My heart begins beating in my throat. I close my eyes and try to will the most menacing machine in my house to stop ringing.
“Do I have to get that?” Paul says before the answering machine picks up.
“I can’t talk to anyone right now,” I reply. We decide to let it go. We’ll call back later.
As an introvert, talking to anyone on the telephone is difficult. Yet, I have a landline and a cell phone. I hate them with every fiber of my being.
After dropping by the zoo on Saturday, August 25, 2018, to cover a story about raptor recovery (link will be here once it’s published), I got sidetracked on the way to my car. Outside the gift shop is are several boxes with flowers for pollinators. Here are a few of the photos I took of the bumblebees flying around.
‘Sup? Here’s a story about me.
On Saturday, July 7, 2018, Paul was driving east on 42nd Street. As he passed the hospital, he saw an animal wobbling across the road. He thought it was a squirrel and thought he’d better check it out. When he did, discovered a little kitten, about five or six weeks old, was nearly blind from the conjunctivitis and goop oozing from his eyes. Paul picked up the kitten and brought him home.
Deep breath.
This is not an easy post for me to make or write, but there are some things people need to know. This past year has been a huge struggle, bigger than anyone will probably ever know.
A good friend of mine recently told me my shift in writing here has turned extremely personal. That is due, in part, to finally taking care of my mental health issues with a professional instead of doing it on my own.
By working on these issues, it has become harder to mask my inner turmoil. People at work ask if I’m okay. I’m not, but I am, and I will be. That’s the important part.
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