unl photojournalism

Czech fest

2009-08-02T12:59:00.001-07:00

Christy Kessler (facing camera), First Runner-Up of Miss Czech-Slovak US 2008-09, waits to compete in this years Pageant.

Story and Photos by Kyle Bruggeman

August 1st 2009 Wilber Neb: Americans are a proud people. Proud to be American and also proud to belong to a specific culture that came to America years ago. The Czech culture is one such culture to have spread its roots and spans across the entire country. The majority of Czechs have been farmers, yet those same farmers were also writers, musicians, and really good bakers.

E.J. Kopic, 83, has been coming to the annual Czech Festival for most of his life. He is proud of his culture, but is worried that the younger generations will not continue with their traditions.

Wilber Nebraska is considered the Czech capitol of the world. The town holds an annual Czech festival that brings Czech culture together. The town even has its own band called I Love My Band and includes people either from Wilber or those married to people from Wilber. During the festival the band travels from bar to bar, pushing their way through shoulder to shoulder traffic. Once inside the bass drums start pounding and the music begins. They play classic Czech music. One song that really gets people going included lyrics about drinking beer. The crowd gets more rowdy when the band plays the University of Nebraska varsity fight song. It is an event to behold in itself.

I Love My Band plays in a local bar during the later hours of the festival.

Frank Duba, 87, has lived in Wilber for the last few years after retiring his farm life just a few miles north of town. On July 31st Frank and his wife LeVerne struck up a conversation with Dennis and Rose Sulak who drove all the way from Texas to be a part of the event. The two couples spoke in Bohemian and instantly became good friends.

Frank Duba (left) his wife LeVerne, Dennis and Rose Sulak enjoy each others company just moments after meeting.

Deere souped

2009-07-31T08:31:00.000-07:00

These turbo-charged monsters drag a sled down a dirt drag strip.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 30, 2009, Wayne County Fair, Wayne, Neb: Tractor pull. I'd never seen one of these events before. Theses souped-up tractors, of all makes and models, pull a weighted sled down a dirt drag strip and pull it more than 300 feet, in some cases.

Noisy? Yes, they are and the crowd loved every minute of it. I'm not a fan of racing, drag racing or tractor pulls, but it doesn't mean I can't enjoy it for what it is. The crowd there, the drivers and the pit crews are all very into what they do.

I had a good time and I might, at some point in the future, return again to a tractor pull to make more pictures.

Kelly Grone (left, front), Stuart Lubberstedt and Kelly's daughter, Kayla, and others in the crowd, covered their ears during the 5700 modified class event of the tractor pull. This tractor class is very loud.

Carol Conner went to get three funnell cakes. She came back with six and wasn't sure how that happened. Her son Mitchell is helping to carry a couple of the drinks.

Pit crews and other spectators watch the tractors during the pulling events.

There's a lot of smoke that belches out of these tractors while they pull the sled down the track.

A perfect day

2009-07-31T07:57:00.000-07:00

Deon LaPointe (left), 30 and his brother, Don, 42, had a few nibbles on their lines but no fish to show for their efforts.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 30, 2009, Missouri River, Santee Sioux Reservation, Neb: I first met Don LaPointe, Jr., when I arrived at the tribe's governmental offices. I went there to get permission to take photographs about the BIA workers checking the prairie grasses on the reservation.

After talking with him for a few minutes, I discovered he is the director of the Santee Parks and Wildlife department. One of his jobs is to go out on the river and fish. Wow, great job!

The next day, out on the river we went. His brother, Deon, came along. He, too, works for the agency.

As for the economy, Don noted that income for the tribe through hunting and fishing revenues are down. He said that started less than two years ago. With last summer's high fuel prices, it kept customers away. And now with the economy where it is, "Folks are just not showing up," he said.

Back out on the lake, Don noted that he also writes a fishing report. With no fish to put on the stringer, Don thought I must pretty bored, and then when the motor wouldn't start he thought my day was ruined.

I replied that I'm in a boat, on the water, the sun is shining and I'm taking pictures. That for me is a perfect day.

Don said, "Without any fish I guess my report will be pretty short."

Thank you Don and Deon. I had a great time and met two nice guys. Hope to see you again.

After pulling up anchor, the boat's motor wouldn't start. Fortunately Don had taken the boat upstream and Deon used the oar to steer the boat while the current powered the boat. Shortly, another boat of fishermen showed and up they towed us back to the dock.

Don gets the boat loaded on the trailer and he said he was taking it straight back to the mechanic who had just looked at it the night before. Of course, it ran great while in the shop.

Burning grasses

2009-07-29T17:31:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 29, 2009, Santee Sioux Reservation, Neb: On a hilltop overlooking the Missouri River, Larry Thompson (left), 56, heads downhill to roll up the tape measure while Nathan Reece, 28, full-blood Ojibwea, and Luke Schneiders, 21, part Santee Sioux, identify the grasses growing on the Santee Sioux Reservation. All three work for the Bureau of Indian Affairs and are working on a burn project that began in 2002. According to Thompson, "Fields need to be burned to help them be healthy."

He went on to say that with all the fire fighting efforts over the past few decades, the natural burning of the fields has stopped. As a result, the weeds and other plants are choking out the good grass. This project is designed to see if burning the fields will reverse the process and allow the good grass to flourish.

The tribe uses this land to graze more than a thousand head of cattle and about 40 head of buffalo.

Two rivers and a canal

2009-07-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 29, 2009, Niobrara State Park, Neb: Getting up this morning at 6:30, this was my view from the trailer. The Mormon Canal is in the foreground, the Niobrara River just slightly visible in the upper center of the photo and the Missouri River (the river itself is not visible) is located all the way in the background beneath the ridge on the horizon.

Capone's mirror

2009-07-28T15:09:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 28, 2009, O'Neill, Neb: The Golden Hotel, opened in 1913, was a thriving business in the 1920s. The rooms were modern in its day, offering telephone service in the room, hot and cold water and some rooms had a private bath.

Christine Carman and her son, Jake, purchased the hotel three years ago this month. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

I asked Christine what was so historic about the hotel. She said, "The rumor is that Al Capone stayed at the hotel." Chicago's most famous mobster had brothers that lived in the area, according to Christine.

"The mirror," she said, "was reportedly installed at Capone's request so he could look out his room and see who was coming up the stairs."

Another famous man moved to O'Neill. William Froelich, born in Stromsburg, moved into a home just two blocks north of the hotel. Froelich worked for the U.S. Attorney General's Office in Washington D.C. and took part in prosecuting Capone for tax evasion in 1931.

Not always pretty sights

During my travels I've camped in some places with interesting and scenic views. This dumpster had an overload of garbage and the flies to go with it. Fortunately the wind was always blowing the right way. It stunk. Another aspect of these small towns is free camping. Located right next to the rodeo arena, the campground had full electrical and water hook-ups...no charge! The dumpster really was the only unpleasant item in the campground. The rest of the place was well-groomed...Bruce Thorson

Here's your sign

2009-07-28T08:37:00.001-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 27, 2009, Bassett, Neb: When I first drove into Bassett, I couldn't help but notice the zebra house. The next day I went and knocked on the door. Kindra James is the owner of Here's Your Sign, and that's what it is, a sign business. She makes vinyl decals, business cards and offers embroidery. Most of her business is with truckers. They are required to have specific transportation and vin numbers on the door of their trucks. "The state has been cracking down on truckers in this area. So, my business is good right now," she said. I asked her where the affinity came for zebras. "I don't know for sure but I've always loved horses," she said.

Driving further down the Bassett main street, I couldn't resist this shot. There are two vehicles I wouldn't mind restoring. They are 1957 Chevrolets. My first car was one, a two-door convertible, three on the "tree" with overdrive and spinner hubcaps. I rebuilt the motor in it, my first-ever rebuild. It ran great and I successfully rebuilt another seven or eight motors, on various cars I owned. They all ran great, too.

Harvest in Rushville

2009-07-27T08:25:00.000-07:00

Max Two Crow enjoys a view of Rushville atop an 86 foot high grain bin on July 17th, 2009.

Note: This image contains multiple photos placed together through Photoshop.

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

July 19, 2009, Rushville, Neb: Farming is mostly a year long job, but never is it more exciting and more exhausting than during harvest. A time where all the hard work and dedication to the fields pays off by the truck loads.

Dennis Marcy, 48, knows the rewards of raising farm land, but for him it is easier to rent his land to other farmers to do the dirty work. Marcy can then spend his days freely and just wait for harvest to come around to collect a check. Last year he spent time in Russia while others looked after his land.

Dennis Marcy enjoys a cigarette at the Rushville Nebraska grain bin on July 17th 2009.

Most wheat and corn is hauled to a grain bin where it is sold and stored. Rushville's bin can hold grain by the tons. It is operated by a team of four people who test the grain for moisture, weigh the trucks load, and get the grain into the bins.

It is impossible to know when the farmer is going to arrive with his newly cut crop. Thus the bin crew is often waiting around. They kill that time by listening to the radio or by giving each other a hard time. Sometimes they go on top of the 86 foot high grain bin and look over the town.

Delayne Blacksmith scrapes out the few remaining wheat kernels from a late night drop off at the Rushville grain bin on July 18th, 2009.

Beyond riches

2009-07-26T21:05:00.000-07:00

Reverend Bill Stovall (left) and other attendees join hands at the conclusion of the morning worship.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 26, 2009, Taylor, Neb: Loup County is the poorest county in America, according to recent published statistics. There are 207 people, at the 2000 census, living in Taylor, Loup's one and only town. The county has a total population of 712.

Driving in the day before, I went up and down its residential streets, which took only a few minutes. I spied Taylor's Calvary United Methodist Church, worship at 9:30 in the morning.

That's where I decided to go Sunday morning. Once again, these dang Nebraskans: warm and friendly.

I even got two jars of wild plum jam. Too bad I don't eat bread. I'll figure something out.

The reverend is Bill Stovall. He had just been installed as reverend there a month earlier. He thought maybe that's why I showed up to take pictures.

When I mentioned to several attendees I was there because Loup is the poorest in the nation, I was given the best "the glass is half full" answers. They went on and on about how living in a small town you get to know everyone, how you can count on them for help, how friendly they all are and just how quiet and uncongested a small town is. One woman noted that with all that, if she died right now, she'd be the wealthiest person in the world.

It's all about perspective...

Rob Dockweiler (left) reads the scripture while his son, Tory, 5, snuggles his stuffed animal during the morning service.

Gettin' tanked!

2009-07-26T20:20:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 23, 2009, Mullen, Neb: Mitch Glidden loves to get other people tanked. That's as in stock tank, and he uses them for people to float down the Middle Loupe River. Once again I met another friendly and outgoing Nebraskan. I asked him if he had anyone floating down the river in a tank and would it be OK to take pictures. He said, "Yes, you can do that."

Mitch owns the Sandhills Motel and Glidden Canoe Rentals. He bought the motel in 1993 after a windstorm wiped out his efforts at hog farming. He added the canoes in 1994 and the tanks came in 2003.

The economy has made the motel business somewhat spotty. Right now it's about two-thirds full during the week because the railroad has work crews staying there.

The number of people riding the tanks, however, has been increasing every year since he started them.

From May until about the end of September, his work day starts at 7 a.m. and ends when it's dark.

Tankers have to get flat in the tank as they pass beneath a steel bridge.

Gordon, NE

2009-07-26T16:41:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Clay Lomneth

July 18, 2009. Gordon, Neb: To give you an idea of how this day started: I woke up and found a drunk driver had taken off my passenger-side mirror and left a huge dent above the wheel. "I thought I heard something in the middle of the night," Kyle said. Great.

Being of a cynical nature, I assumed the rest of the day would only get worse. Man, I was wrong.

Kyle and I drove into Gordon from Rushville, wheel scraping against the dent every time I made a sharp turn. We cruised the streets for a little bit until we hit a gold mine: there were people setting up for a wedding in the park.

I've shot a lot of weddings in the past. They're a lot of fun, great moments, people are in a good mood (most of the time) and they generally have better things to worry about than being camera aware. I've developed a certain style of shooting weddings, which is different from, say, how I would shoot an assignment for a newspaper.

Shooting documentary photojournalism is completely different from shooting for newspapers and wedding clients. We have to show more of the environment, we have to show something that's only seen in a small town.

I can't stress how welcoming and generous and accommodating everyone we met on this trip was. They were a photographer's dream. They let us into their lives, let us take photographs of them doing what they do, and on top of that, offer to feed us. If there's one thing photographers as a group love as much as photographing, it's probably getting free food.

The wedding we stumbled upon was that of Cole Fancher and Carmen Walton, both of whom had lived in Gordon their entire lives. After talking to them both and getting permission, Carmen and Cole let us hang around the whole day and shoot their wedding. Kyle and I could not believe our luck.

Without trying to stress him out more than he already was, I talked to Carmen's dad Casey about paying for a wedding during the recession. In addition to being the father of a beautiful bride, Casey owned an auto parts store in town and had a ranch nine miles north of Gordon.

"Everyone talks recession, but Gordon, Nebraska has been in a recession for 10 years," he said. People here have learned to live with their paychecks and not spend any extra, so the recession had little to no effect on most people in small towns.

Most everything, including the decorations in the park, was done by friends of the family. The official wedding photographer was a friend of a parent and the couple grew up with just about everyone in the wedding party. Casey said that at the reception, most of the town would show up, even if it was just say hello and congratulations.

The view from my front door

2009-07-26T14:10:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 24, 2009, Calamus Reservoir, Neb: I've always loved camping. Most of my life I have tent camped. So, having a travel trailer to live in is almost like having a motel room. It is very convenient to live this way. Not all of the places we've camped on this project have been the most stellar for views, but some have. Over the last couple of days I was at Calamus Reservoir. There's some great scenery here. I enjoy sitting, sitting and looking and taking in the day. I find it interesting that other people go to great expense and travel to get to a place like the Calamus. There's great stuff to look at here. And what do some of these folks do? They set up their Dish TV. I'm comfortable in the trailer but I wouldn't want to spend time in it watching television. With the exception of the times being in a restaurant or bar that has a television, I've not watched it since June 3 when I left Lincoln.

This is a great project!

July 20, 2009, Spade Ranch, Neb: Sometimes I don't have to go far to find an interesting image. Here's one that was literally right out the camper door. While camping at the Spade Ranch, I was right next to the chicken coop. Those birds really help keep the yard free of bugs. They even cleaned my car's bumper. It was covered with dead bugs and they went around in front and behind it to peck away at the bugs smashed there. There was even a live grasshopper on the bumper. As soon as it jumped down on the ground, it was a goner. A chicken was all over it, picked it up in its beak and down to the stomach in a matter of seconds.

Sandoz Ranch

2009-07-26T13:21:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 21, 2009, Sandoz Ranch, Neb: Celia Barth, her maiden name is Sandoz, poses in front of the home of Jules and Mary Sandoz. Celia, the first grandchild for Jules, owns the ranch where Mari Sandoz, one of Nebraska's foremost writers, grew up. She died in 1966 and is buried on a hillside overlooking this valley.

I bumped into Celia as she and her husband were cutting the grass around the old homestead. Back then, she said Sundays were busy days here at the Sandoz Ranch. Cars would come down the road, over the hill directly across from the home. The road is gone now, but during those days there would be lots of people at the ranch. "We had parties, dances and rodeos here at the ranch," she said.

The home also housed a store and post office. As for the economy, Celia said, "People need to know the difference between earned money and credit. If people learned to live on earned money, which is the money you have on hand now, there wouldn't be the problems they have," she said.

She let me poke inside the home. It still has photos of the family members in a corner hutch and a lively photo of Mari from a happier time.

Air Ranching

2009-07-25T18:23:00.001-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 20, 2009, Spade Ranch, Neb: Clay Bixby, 20, pilots his plane low over the Spade Ranch, formed in 1888 and one of Nebraska's oldest ranches, as his father, Brett, and brother, Mace, watch. Clay's mother, Colleen, thought it better to duck.
Nestled in the sandhills, the Spade offers grazing to horses and cattle.

Clay Bixby untangles the rope used for the dinner bell.

Clay Bixby drives a horse team pulling a steer so that Mace Bixby can practice his roping technique.

Chickens roam during the day eating the bugs and keeping those pests down.

Auctioned off

2009-07-25T17:57:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 18, 2009, Chadron, Neb: Auctioneers take bids for tools as the career of Bob Retzlaff comes to a close.

With almost every item in his shop gone, Bob Retzlaff and his wife Lois pause at the front door to his shop before departing for the last time. After 25 years in the agriculture repair business and a mechnic for over 40 years before that, Bob is venturing into retirement.

Lois Retzlaff kisses her son Verlin after the auction ended and all the tools and equipment had been sold.

Wayne Speer (left) and John Wentworth were sticking around the auction waiting for the toy tractors to go up for bids. Both got tired of waiting and left before the toys were sold off.

Boyd Hoffmeier carts off with his prize possessions from the auction.

Sloooooowwww internet...

2009-07-23T12:51:00.000-07:00

...out here in the Sandhills the connection to the internet has been slow. I'll get more stories and photos posted as soon as the connection speeds up...Bruce Thorson

You gotta know Jack!!!

2009-07-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 16, 2009, Crawford, Neb: It was a serendipitous moment in time. I met Jack Pelren as I was about to make a u-turn. We were looking for the local newspaper and I knew we had passed it. Before I started spinning the steering wheel to the left, I saw this man on the sidewalk in boots, blue jeans, with the cuffs rolled up, white T-shirt and a sky-blue cowboy hat.

Jack, 74, told us where the newspaper office was located. I gave him the quick version of our project. Kyle Bruggeman, one of the UNL students on the project, asked him about bumper sticker on his truck advertising the fiddle contest and did he play the fiddle. Jack said no but he could sing.

A moment later, Jack cleared his throat and sang a smooth rendition of an Eddy Arnold song. Then, he sang the same song in the manner of Ernest Tubbs. He was smooth, very smooth.

I asked him what he did for work and replied he has worked on Harley Davidson motorcycles just about all his life. I told him we were going to the newspaper and than I'd come see him see him a little later.

Leaving the newspaper office, I spotted Jack walking along the sidewalk. I asked him if he'd show me his machine shop where he works on the motorcycles. He was reluctant at first. "I need to clean it up first," he said. As a photographer, I hate it when people say they want to get their shop, home or office cleaned up before I can see it. I like seeing people and where they live, work and play as it really exists and not in the form of how they want it ready for pictures. That to me is fake.

Jack opened the screen door to his shop and I stepped in. The smell of cat urine hit me in the face like a cast iron skillet being swung by Barry Bonds for a home run.

He told me about the cats he has. "I take care of about 30 cats," he said. "The cops in town have been rounding them up. Then, they're killed."

Jack loves the cats he takes care of. Just about everywhere I looked about his shop and inside his tiny home, I saw bags of food. The cats looke healthy, too. But that urine smell...geeeeeesh!

He told me to come back tomorrow and he'd have it cleaned up. I came back the next day and got hit with the skillet again. "It smells better, don't it?" I replied no. He said he'd probably need to mop the floors.

Jack has been a Harley Davidson mechanic since 1964, had shops in Scottsbluff and in Crawford. He's retired now but still works occaisionally making repairs for special customers. At the time he was rebuilding a 1964 two-cylinder engine.

He has about 20 or so cats living in his shop and another "special" cats living in his home, which is attached to his shop. The more domesticated cats get to live in the house; the wilder, less friendly cats, ones are in the shop.

As for the job the president is doing to fix the economy, Jack said, "He's one of the worst ones we've had. Bush was one, too, but this is the worst."

Jack was about finished rebuilding that engine and when I left him he was filing away, smoothing off the edges of a valve cover bracket that was just a little out of whack.

At 74 years old, Jack might be a little out of whack, too, but he is a cat lover, a kind-hearted and friendly man.

We should all know Jack. I hope we meet again.

The Soesters

2009-07-17T18:11:00.001-07:00

Photos and story by Clay Lomneth

July 16th, 2009, Crawford, Neb: During this trip, I've met quite a few people that, if they were not doing what they are doing now, would have made good photographers. (Thank the photo god they were doing what they were doing, because we would have missed out on some great images). To me, Debbie Soester was one of them.

Kyle and I met Debbie after we went into a horse supply store in Crawford, acting on a hunch that someone that supplies horse owners might know local ranchers. It's hunches like these that make us good photographers. (It's that sense of sarcastic humor that grinds on Bruce's nerves, but that's another story.)

The owner of the store introduced us to Debbie as she walked by his store running errands. Hardly batting an eye, Debbie invited us to come to her house. It's chances like these that make us lucky photographers.

Debbie and Alan Soester have lived on their ranch since the '70s, and have four hard-working (and brave) helpers, also known as their children: Aubrey, Chance, Haley and Austin, ranging from ages 19 to 13. In addition to farming wheat, the Soester's raise cattle when wheat season is over to supplement their income. We arrived good timing, too - the Soesters were some of the first in Crawford to farm their wheat.

The first chore assigned to Aubrey and Haley when they got back from town was to administer first aid to a yearling bull who just got bit by a snake. Kyle and I tentatively followed Aubrey into the bull's pen. She gave us a look that we get a lot: half amused, but she knew we were in way over our heads.

"Just stay close to the fence," she said, "so if he gets wound up, you can jump the fence."

Aubrey and Haley rounded up the bull and got him into the chute and Kyle and I set to work. Trying to get different angles, I stepped right in front of the bull for a spell. "You might not want to stand there," Debbie said, laughing.

After Aubrey and Haley stuck an angry bull in the hind leg with a giant needle, I had the chance to talk to Debbie a little bit. She told me about her family's recent trip to Alaska, and showed me a photograph hanging up on her wall. I've seen a few photographs of whales flipping their tails in the past, but there had always been something missing before. They're usually shot mid-day in harsh light, or they look like they were shot with a 600mm lens and then cropped way down. Debbie's image is hands-down my favorite. It had none of these problems. Shot on an overcast day, it was perfectly exposed. She didn't make the mistake that an amateur might make by zooming in, giving the viewer no idea where the whale was seen. Debbie had the photographic smarts to give the viewer some action in the foreground (the whale) and show enough of the environment so that anyone who's been there could easily recognize it.

Suddenly it made sense why the rest of the Soesters were so camera un-aware. They ignored us and went about their daily business as if we weren't there, because they were so used to Debbie doing exactly that.

Maybe none of this had anything to do with luck. Maybe I am just not used to people taking you in, letting you become a part of their lives, feeding you lunch, trusting you (meaning Kyle) to drive their farm equipment. Maybe there are people who would do that in Omaha or in Lincoln, but it might take a bit to find them.

So thank you Alan, Debbie, Aubrey, Haley, Chance and Austin. And Debbie: keep shooting.

Rolling-hills roundup

2009-07-17T16:34:00.000-07:00

One of the cattle ropers at the Fort Robinson rodeo on July 16th, 2009.

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

July 16th, 2009, Fort Robinson, Neb: If you want to see the best topography of Western-Nebraska, don't take Interstate 80. Instead get on Highway 20 and head toward Crawford, Nebraska. You'll find plenty of rolling bluffs intertwined with small town life. Ranching and farming go hand in hand, and in between you'll find community events like fur trading, fairs, and of course rodeos.

Small scale rodeos like the ones held in Fort Robinson are a great way to get a taste of cowboy life without all the corporate logos seen in rodeo arenas. You can stand right on the fence where bucking broncos come jumping out and talk with the cowboys as they wait their turn to rope a calf.

These hard-working men and women come from different towns in different counties yet they'll all tell you they love living where they do because the people there care for each other and look out for one another.

Doug Bowman stands behind the horse gates of the Fort Robinson rodeo on July 16th, 2009. Bowman brought a horse of his for other cowboys to ride, "She's too wild to break, but she's great for bucking" said Bowman.

Vanishing breed

2009-07-17T15:24:00.001-07:00

Raul Gomez, 67, has worked in fields all across the United States and has been coming to the Alliance area to work for more than 50 years. This year might be the last. A new chemical, eliminating weeds, has put most of the migrant farm workers out of work.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 15, 2009, Alliance, Neb: While in Bridgeport, I noticed a building with a sign in it signifying it was a migrant health clinic. I made a few phone calls and discovered the medical staff would be there Tuesday afternoon.

I arrived later that afternoon. The clinic was empty, except for the staff.

"Just a few years ago this waiting room would be filled with parents and families waiting for medical assistance," Kimberly Kurtz said. Working for Community Action Partnership, Kurtz and others, help migrant farm workers, their kids and families, provide health care and schooling.

But the assistance programs and the migrant farm workers are headed for possible extinction.

A new chemical sprayed on the crops migrants used to hoe weeds and thin, has virtually eliminated the need for their labor.

Migrant farm workers, and their families, would seasonally arrive in April or May in the Nebraska Panhandle. There they would find fieldwork until the end of potato harvest in late September or early October.

After a breakfast break, where Raul and his wife Dominga ate jalapenos and tacos, the pair assists each other getting up and back to the fields.

"All these fields used to be filled with migrants hoeing weeds. You would see truckloads of workers going by every hour, " Raul Gomez, 67, said as he wiped away the sweat from his face.

Gomez has been coming to this area for over 50 years and has worked in fields from the east coast to the west, from the south to the north.

This year will probably be his last. There are no jobs. He managed to find work in a 97-acre field for himself and his wife, Dominga, 65, his son, Rod, 42, and Rod's son, Rigo, 17. They are paid $7 dollars an acre for their work. Raul used about half of what he made just for the gasoline it took to get him and his family to work.

Workers are packing up and heading back to Texas. Gomez lives in Mission, Texas. Some workers have managed to find some odd jobs at the farms where they have worked for past 20 to 30 years.

Technology and chemicals have just about ended the life of the migrants. There will be work for them at potato harvest time. But it won't be worth it for the migrants to show up for about 30 days worth of work.

Peter Ozuna, 67, uses his hoe, that once was used to weed and thin crops, to pull down old insulation in a shop area. Peter found his farm employer, where he has done fieldwork for more than 20 years, was able to give him odd jobs to do at the farm.

Children of migrant workers arrive for school at about 6:15 in the morning. They walk slowly off the bus clutching blankets, yawning and, for some, a little crying, as they make their way to the place where they stay and learn until 4 p.m.

Ubaldo Gonzalez, 62, has been coming to the Alliance area for farm work for over 30 years. Here he is packing his truck and is being helped by his grandson, Ray Valdez, 10. Ubaldo and his wife, Mirba, 60, left at 4 the next morning, heading back to McAllen, Texas, which is about a 24-hour drive if one drives straight through. He'll return later for the potato harvest in September.

Alliance: Carhenge

2009-07-16T21:03:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 14, 2009, Alliance, Neb: As I've journeyed across Nebraska I've mentioned to Nebraskans that I planned on shooting a photograph of Carhenge for this project. Most just rolled their eyes and commented that they didn't take it seriously as an attraction worth visiting.

Given the state of the auto industry, I thought it appropriate.

I had photographed it about six days earlier, right after the full moon. I wasn't happy with the picture I made at that time.

I wanted to return but the weather wasn't cooperating. I wanted to photograph it at night, using a long exposure (this one was about 45 minutes) to get the stars to move across the sky.

Finally, the weather report called for a clear sky. This one of two photographs I made.

Alliance faces

2009-07-15T09:34:00.001-07:00

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

July 15, 2009, Alliance, Neb: Photojournalism is about telling a story through a visual medium. Often times that story is summed up in a single frame, a frame that reveals everything without having to accompany a few paragraphs of text.

This submission is intended to try and reveal, or perhaps mask, some of those truths without revealing the subjects stories with accompanying text. See what type of personalities and traits as well as stories you might think these photos portray. Then read further down to see their story.

photo one

photo two

photo three

photo one: O.G. Smith, 73, is a retired military man. He has served in the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans. "I've killed many men in my life" says Smith, but by meeting him you wouldn't think he would hurt a fly. He's a genuinely friendly guy, and one of the few people that have approached me to talk instead of vice-versa. Photo taken in front of Smith's home in Alliance Nebraska on July 13th, 2009.

photo two: Micky Aruffo has been feeding people in need for twenty years. She and her husband Gene run a food pantry named Just Neighbors from inside their home. They work with anyone and everyone who is in need. "If a drug addict needs food, we feed em" says Aruffo "Everybody has to eat." Photo taken in Aruffo's living room in Alliance Nebraska on July 12th, 2009.

photo three: Macala Hood, 5, is just starting out in life. She lives on a ranch outside of Alliance where her family raises cattle and quarter-horses. Someday she too will have a story to tell. Photo taken at a local family event in the Alliance park on July 14th, 2009.

I am a lineman for the college

2009-07-13T14:51:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 13, 2009, Alliance, Neb: Darrell Birkhimer is a powerline instructor at Western Nebraska Community College. He has twenty students. The students did a variety of pole climbing maneuvers, such as reaching out across and touching hands with the climber on the next pole, climbing up and going over a cross-member and climbing to the top and then doing a 360 degree rotation around the pole.

I asked Darrell about jobs for these students when they are finished with the one-year training program. He said, "With the economy right now it has slowed the hiring process. There are a lot of workers who would have retired but because of the economy they are staying on right now. When things pick up, they will retire and there will be a lot of job openings."

To finish off the day's climbing exercises, Darrell has all the students pick a row of poles on one side or the other of the training area. With a coin toss, one row represents heads and the other tails. If the students guessed correctly, heads or tails, they are done climbing for the day. The losers go up one more time and then another flip of the coin. Losers continue to go up again until they win.

Very quickly everyone was finished except for one lone powerline student. He guessed wrong five times in a row.

I told him not to go to Las Vegas.

A night at the drive-in

2009-07-12T11:36:00.000-07:00

A thunder and lightning storm moved in on the drive-in moviegoers. Rain fell periodically through the two shows but not often enough to force people to leave.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 11, 2009, Alliance, Neb: I saw the sign by the highway out of the corner of my eye: Drive-in Movie. I could not remember the last time I was at one, or even remember the last time I past one.

I had to check it out.

I drove in through the exit. The entrance gate was locked and the exit gate was open. It made sense to me.

Inside the concession stand, in a room off to the side where the movie projectors resided, there was Gerald Bullard, the owner, spooling up the next movie: A Night at the Museum.

I explained the project. And there it was again, that Nebraska friendliness and hospitality.

Gerald explained that the drive-in was built from the ground up in 1991, and he claims it is one of two drive-ins in Nebraska.

About the economy and his drive-in he said, "We are open two nights a week, Saturday and Sunday. Business is good and we could be open a third night if we wanted to do that."

Gerald Bullard, the owner, says the drive-in, which operates two nights a week, could be open for a third night despite the economy.

Gerald Bullard gets the movies ready for the next night's showing while his dog, Ruby, roams the concession stand.

Full throttle: Motocycles, dragsters and model airplanes

2009-07-12T11:09:00.000-07:00

Rob Black pulls up the plane's nose and puts it into a hover position, making it perform almost like a helicopter.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 10, 2009, Alliance, Neb: Rob Black is crazy about planes, radio controlled model airplanes that is. Rob, 48, has been flying for about eleven years.

Before his aircraft habit, he rode drag racing motorcycles. Then, he moved on to racing dragsters. He said he needed a change, a change that would bring about the opportunity to stay closer to home with his hobby and one that isn't so expensive.

He helps maintain the airpark for model aircraft located near the Alliance airport.

I spotted him flying his Extra 260, a stunt airplane. It's about 35 percent of the full-size version and his model has a 104-inch wingspan. I had wanted to fly a radio-controlled airplane since I was a kid.

I enjoyed watching him fly his plane. He could get it to perform all types of maneuvers--fly upside down, on its side, loops, barrel rolls and many more. "It takes an enormous amount of concentration," he said.

You see, when the pilot is standing on the ground--the plane going in many different directions from the pilot--left isn't always left, right isn't always right and so forth.

Rob has worked for Burlington Northern Santa Fe railroad for about 30 years. Right now he's one of the lucky ones as the economy has forced BNSF to layoff over a hundred employees here.

"The economy hasn't really affected me, not directly," he said. "God has been good. He's blessed me with my health, my job, money, His love and mercy," Rob said.

Tony

2009-07-12T09:29:00.000-07:00

Tony uses oxygen to assist his breathing. He's been a smoker for over 50 years and continues to smoke. "I've already damaged my lungs. What's the use in quitting now?," he said.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 7, 2009, Bridgeport, Neb: Meet Tony. His last name is Grubham, but he goes by Tony and he's 70 years old. I had a couple of enjoyable conversations with him.

"Only in America can a guy sit on his ass, in a bathrobe all day and people come in and give him money. I'm probably the only guy in America that does that. It's the greatest country because you're not limited with what you can do," he bellowed out as he leaned back in his office chair.

When I first pulled up in front of his bait and tackle shop, located next to a small chain of lakes, I could barely see the boats, motors and canoes among the weeds. When I pulled open the rickety screen door to step inside, there was barely of pathway visible. His store is filled, and filled and filled with stuff--boxes of worm bedding, lures and fishing reels hanging from the ceiling, fox pelts hanging from the ceiling, outboard motors and boxes and boxes.

While I was visiting Tony, a couple of his loyal customers dropped in. He sold them all a couple dozen worms. But before he did, they would talk, talk about family and health and kids. One man walked in and asked Tony if he had a drop light he could borrow to hook up outside his camper so he could see. "Yeah, we came here to de-stress a little bit," he said. "My mom has cancer and it's been kind of hard."

Some of his customers have known Tony since they were kids. They would remember the popsicles and cookies he would give them.

Tony loves fishing and loves that people and kids love fishing. So much so, that if a kid walks into his store and can't afford to buy the worms, Tony will give them away.

He'll also let them, or anyone for that matter, look at his two rattlesnakes he has sitting in an aquarium on the floor. "I gave them snakes a couple of mice this morning," he growled out. "I don't see the mice in there anymore so I guess they're fed."

About the economy he said, "I don't tell Washington (D.C) how to run their business and they don't tell me how to run my business."

About President Obama he said, "I think he might be good from what I hear. He's trying his darndest."

Tony's bait and tackle shop reminded me a little of a similar shop I used to visit when I was young fisherman. There were boxes and boxes of stuff everywhere, and it all was coated with a thick layer of dust.

This time I was reminded of that bait shop, plus I was able to visit with a man named Tony. I hope we meet again.

This is Tony's Starvation Acres bait and tackle store, and just about anything else you need for fishing.

Inside his store, it is difficult to find a path leading through all the stuff he has there, but if you need just about anything, Tony most likely will have it.

Foreclosure

2009-07-11T18:00:00.000-07:00

Darrell Kraupie, owner of Kraupie's Real Estate and Auctioneers, talks on his cell phone and wipes away the sweat on his brow as he goes through the inspection of several buildings that are in foreclosure in Sidney, Neb.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 9, 2009, Bridgeport, Neb: I walked into the office of Kraupie's Real Estate and Auctioneers and introduced myself to the secretary. I gave her the pitch version of the project I'm working on. I could tell by the look on her face she was a little puzzled. That "look" is not uncommon, as I've been getting it ever since we started this journey to document life in Nebraska during the recession. Almost every time I meet people, give them the project description, they just look at me and say, "You want to photograph what?"

The secretary motioned for Alecia Kraupie to join in our conversation. She and her husband, Darrell, own the realty business. It's been around for over thirty years.

I asked Alecia if she had any house showings or any work regarding home sales that wasn't going to take place in the office.

She said, "Well, I do have to run over to a house and put up a sign." I asked if I could go along and take pictures of that. "You want to photograph me putting up a sign," she said somewhat quizzically. And I said yup, I do, and I did.

Before we could get out the door, before I could even get off of the reception-area couch, Darrell strolled out of his office and said, "I have to go to Sidney and look at a building. You wanna go along and photograph that?" he said.

I asked what the situation was in regards to the building and why it was for sale. He said, "It's a bank repo."

I said that's perfect for part of what this project is about.

All throughout this project I still get caught off guard at how friendly and nice people can be, people you meet and 20 seconds later they're saying something like, "I'm going to Sidney, you want to come along?"

I spent most of the day with Darrell and I had a great time watching him "look" at a building.

Afterwards, we wound our way back to Bridgeport the long way. "I gotta look at some ground," he said. That ground was three parcels of farmland he wants to sell. It is interesting how a wheat field can look different from one corner of its 160 acres to the other corner.

I learned, too, how you could look at the field and tell if it's getting ready for harvest. If you still see some ever-so-slightly green tints in it, it's not ready; and whether or not the wheat is ready from a moisture content perspective by biting into a kernel. You go for the crunch.

As we wound our way back to Bridgeport, we traveled on top of and through the bluffs, over the gravel roads, we drove past herds of yaks, llamas, donkeys and longhorn cattle. Yaks, llamas and donkeys on this "tuff cowboy" landscape called Nebraska? Oh, we saw some cattle, too.

My eyes were opened to signage, a building repo and new sights, and my life was filled with a new friend, Darrell Kraupie. Thanks Darrell.

After finding the right farmland location he was looking for, Darrell heads back into his truck and off to another field.

Darrell uses his hat to shield the sun from his camera's lens and the truck's bed to get more height for the picture's perspective.

Mail rider

2009-07-11T11:06:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

July 8, 2009, Bayard, Neb: A rider gets the experience of what it was like being a Pony Express mail carrier. About 45 riders participating in 2,000 mile trail ride from Mexico to Canada, stopped at the Flying Bee Ranch for several days rest. The group is a little more than halfway on its journey. For the mail delivery demonstration, riders stationed themselves at each end of the quarter-mile route. They carried a mail pouch from one end to the other where the mail was handed off. The next rider carried it back again.

Max Cawiezel gives the trail riders the history and operation facts and details about the Pony Express. Cawiezel is a member of the Nebraska division of the Pony Express Association, a non-profit group. The Pony Express was in service from April 1860 to November 1861.

Trail City, U.S.A.

2009-07-07T23:08:00.000-07:00

A slide across a slip n' slide is how Zeth Patterson, 8, cools off on a hot day in Bridgeport, Nebraska on July 6th, 2009.

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

July 7th, 2009, Bridgeport, Neb: Located in the panhandle of Nebraska, Bridgeport is the county seat for Morrill County. Founded in 1900 the city contains much history as it has seen the Oregon, California, Morman, and Sidney-Black Hills Trails, as well as the Pony Express. Which gave the city its rightful name of "Trail City, U.S.A."

Today it contains a wonderful group of people who, like most small towns and cities in Nebraska, care very much for each other and their community.

Jack Burg has been the mayor for seven years and is proud of how his city has a thriving school system, a multitude of social events and people he considers "loyal."

The towns economy is mostly agricultural and is doing well for itself. Bridgeport Ethanol LLC is doing well for itself and through smart management is able to produce forty percent of its own power.

Through and through the city has survived much of American history, and it seems intent on keeping it that way.

George Post M.D., 89, sits in his home in Bridgeport, Nebraska with a commemorative Theodore Roosevelt .30-30 rifle. Post has contributed much to his community as a doctor and has donated land for the local baseball field.

Rick Parker, 56, works as a bus driver and organizer for Camp Rock, a summer bible school program that started in 1946.

Chimney Rock views

2009-07-06T09:41:00.000-07:00

Photos by Bruce Thorson

additional photo by Kyle Bruggeman

The Jencks family vacation includes a stop at Chimney Rock historical marker. From left mother Lori, Stephanie, Tiffany, father Paul and Brad pose for a photo at the Chimney Rock museum

Bridgeport: Rodeo up!

2009-07-05T20:39:00.001-07:00

Marce Vasquez (left) and Jack Wagoner pause during the national anthem before the start of the rodeo. Both men are Morrill County deputy sheriffs. Vasquez is a retired rancher and Wagoner still does some ranching. About the economy and the measures to fix it Wagoner said, "We're getting more socialism and that scares me. We're losing our sovereignty."

All photos by Bruce Thorson

July 4, 2009, Bridgeport, Neb: It was rodeo time!!!

During the saddle bronc riding, the cowboyys line up to watch the other riders coming out of the gate and taking a few snapshots of their own. With these cameras that now have video capability, the riders use the video to view, critique and improve their ability to ride.

Steve Richards and Tess Smith run to break up the snuggling between Aly Rocha and her boyfriend Trevor Smith. All are from Scottsbluff. Tess is Trevor's mom.

Brady Cross (right) takes a moment to compose himself before his ride in the saddle bronc event. Brian Green (center) was wondering why Cross was being so nervous before his event.

Garet Groshans finished watching one rider in the saddle bronc event and looks to see who is next up.

Robert Liska uses oxygen to help him breathe. He's been a rancher and a farmer all his life, and he rode in the rodeo from 1956 to 1976. His events were bareback, saddle bronc and bull riding. His career in agriculture, breathing grain dust, dirt dust, fertilizer and pesticides have made it difficult for him to breathe.

Kensie Hill (left), Ashley Green, Chelsi Lemmon, Brythny Hagerman, Sara Aschenbrenner and Nicole Houston enjoyed the antics and the performance of the rodeo clown.

Riders tried to put a saddle on a horse during the wild horse racing event.

additional photos by Kyle Bruggeman

A moment of reflection for Jeremy Hanson, 20, as he waits to compete in bareback riding event.

Logan Allen, 22, prepares for his bareback riding competition by practicing his arm placement. Mental readiness is of upmost importance for these riders.

After the rodeo a dance was held in the accompanying building. Lonnie Mead, 21, (left) shows his moves with Terri Bossart, 19, while the band played a modern country music song.

A day below the dam

2009-07-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

Photos by Bruce Thorson

July 4, 2009, Lake McConaughy, Neb: Some folks tossed a fishing line in the water, reeling in and loading up a stringer with catfish, while others came to watch the water spew out like a fountain from the bottom of the dam from Lake McConaughy.

Venango: Buckle of the wheat belt

2009-07-05T20:07:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 4, 2009, Venango, Neb: Ascencion Arias (left), 71, his son John Arias, 44, and his daughter Mary Barnum, 45, spent the Fourth of July fixing up a family member’s house in Venango. The home had been used as a rental for the last three years. The tenant had cats and mice in the house and it was is such bad shape because of the renter's neglect it had to be completely gutted inside.

Life over water

2009-07-03T13:43:00.000-07:00

Jordan Walther, 16, knee boards across Harry Strunk Lake, Nebraska one last time before the sunlight fades into the west on July 1st, 2009.

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

July 3rd, 2009, Enders Lake, Neb: The forth of July is tomorrow, and many Nebraskans plan to celebrate their independence near water. Whether you like to ski, fish, or just cool off from the summer sun, lakes and reservoirs are prime locations to spend the day with family.

For the Smith and Defield families it's a treat to drive east out of Colorado to Enders Lake, Nebraska to set up their camper right on the shore. Grilling hamburgers on the beach as kids play in the water is just part of adventure. "It don't get much better than this" says Jeff Smith, 44, when referring to spending time on the lake. "I can spend all day here and never get bored."

Casey Defield, 8, (near fire) made roasted marshmallows over a campfire for S'mores on July 2nd, 2009. Defield likes to use Rese's Peanut Butter Cups for her chocolate filling.

Meadow Gray, 14, discovered an abandoned duckling while swimming in Enders Lake with her friend Kayleigh-Dawn Baker, 15, on July 2nd, 2009. Gray plans to take care of the duck until she can find a safe place for it when she gets home.

Serving up good coffee and fast cars

2009-07-03T12:32:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 3, 2009, Imperial, Neb: Jennifer Bell, owner of JJs restaurant, has found business success. It's in customer service and keeping the prices right. She's serving up a fresh pot of coffee to Marilyn Hust (left), Monna Milner, Kay Haarbers and Lucille Bauerle. Jennifer said they show up about three or four times a week.

The cafe at the other end town recently closed. "They were selling a hamburger for $8 dollars; I sell the same burger for $3 dollars," she said.

She rescued this 38-year-old restaurant last March. It was in foreclosure. Her husband told her to buy it.

The artwork on the wall was done by local students in the middle school's art class. She plans on having new, local art produced by the senior high school art class each year.

"Business is wonderful," she said.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 3, 2009, Imperial, Neb: Sid Harchelroad, along with his brother, owns Harchelroad Motors Inc. He received one of the "good" letters from General Motors. It said he gets to keep his dealership franchise.

According to Sid, his dealership is one of the top ten in the nation selling Corvettes. "I recently shipped one to Australia," he said, and about 75 percent of his Corvette sales are to Nebraskans.

The high-end price for a couple of these cars is about $175 thousand dollars.

About six years ago he sold three Corvettes. He ordered more and sold more; that trend has continued each year. He sold 161 new and used Corvettes last year. In addition, he hosts an annual Corvette Classic car show.

This year, August 16, he will host the 5th annual show. The first show attracted about 50 Corvettes and last year's show there were more than 240.

Stu

2009-07-02T14:22:00.000-07:00

Stewart Minnick, 82, better to known to Cambridge residents as Stu, spent 40 years coaching baseball. This field is named after him. Polio took away the use of his right arm when he was three but he never let it stop him from doing what he wanted to do. He's had golden labs for about the last 50 years. This is his eight-year-old lab, Jodie.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 1, 2009, Cambridge, Neb: "If we were way ahead or way behind, I got to run," Stewart Minnick, 82, said as he recalled his track career at University of Nebraska in Lincoln. That was back in 1945 to 1950.

Minnick contracted polio when he was three years old. It affected his right side, similar to what happens to someone who has had a stroke. He never regained the use of his right arm. His right leg he was able to exercise back into shape, enough so that he ran track during his college days. He claims he was able to run 440 yards in about 50 seconds.

He never let his handicap stop him from doing what he wanted to do. He attributes his positive attitude to his father, who was a farmer. About baseball, Minnick said, "He taught me how to hit and play." His father worked with him from the time he was 6 until about 15 Minnick said.

Everyone in Cambridge knows him as Stu. He coached baseball there from 1950 until 1990, and the ball field is named after him. Everywhere I went as I got to know folks in Cambridge, they all said you have to meet Stu.

"Stu was every kids' baseball coach and every kids' confidant," said Eric Eisenhart, a Cambridge attorney.

A Stu-coached player, Bill Shoemaker, now working in insurance, said, "We'd be coming back from an away game, Stu flying down the road, driving with one knee and always turning around to the back, pointing with his finger at a player saying, 'You shudda done this or you shudda done that' all the way back to town."

Stu spent his 42-year-working career as an accountant for the Cambridge Telephone Company, after that he owned an insurance business and was the manager for a loan and building association.

Stu has a warm and friendly smile.

Right now he lives at the Cambridge Manor, a nursing home. He fell a few weeks ago, breaking three ribs. He doesn't think he'll be able to leave the manor. Eisenhart believes Stu's legs are not stable enough for him to walk unassisted.

I sat and talked with him at the manor about his life and that smile would come out a lot as he remembered his past.

I photographed him there at the manor. I liked the photographs I took but thought that for someone this town loves so much, that remembering him there, at the manor, wasn't good enough.

With the help of Eisenhart and others, I was able to photograph Stu at the ball field named after him, where he did his coaching and with his dog, Jodie, an eight-year-old golden lab. He told me for the last 50 years, he's always had a lab.

As Stu was loaded into the car to return to the manor, he motioned for Eisenhart to come over. He had one last comment to make. Eisenhart turned and told me, "Stu wants you to know that, 'My church is as important to me as athletics.'" He attends the the First Congreational Church in Cambridge.

Lightning over Enders Lake

2009-07-01T21:49:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

July 1, 2009, Enders Lake, Neb: A storm moved in over Enders Lake late Wednesday evening. Our trailer is not in this photo. This was taken from a bluff overlooking a small bay and beach, which has five trailers parked there. The storm started with only lightning flashes off to the west, northwest; then a slight sprinkle; now it is a full downpour and we were warned by the camp host to beware of hail.

Pulling in to the campground, I noticed the smell; that awful smell of something burning, like rubber. Tomorrow I'm going to try and "limp-in" my Chevy suburban to Imperial, Neb. The bearing on the A/C compressor is going out. There's a Chevy dealer eight miles from here, according to Google maps. I hope it's right. Until now the trip has been free of any mechanical malfunctions or breakdowns. I hope this is the worst that happens.

Still vacationing

2009-07-01T11:07:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 30, 2009, Harry Strunk Lake, near Cambridge, Neb: Barbara Hughes (right), 66, from Cape Coral, Florida, is camping with her daughter, Tracey Daily (left), 40, and her family. The group went out to the lake shore to watch the evening sunset, which wasn't as thrilling as they had hoped for. As the sun dipped down to the horizon it disappeared behind a low line of clouds. The Dailey family has been coming here, from their home in Denver, Colorado, for the last five years. "There's water here," Dailey said when asked why they travel the long driving distance. As for today's economy hampering their vacation plans she said, "My husband is a firefighter and paramedic and his job is recession-proof. I'm in sales and it has been affected by the economy."

Small farming

2009-07-01T09:48:00.001-07:00

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

June 29th, 2009, Cambridge, Neb: Farming is changing. It used to be if you had a thousand acres of land you were considered a large farmer. Nowadays that amount is considered "hobby farming" according to Dale Wilson, 60, a farmer near Wilsonville, Nebraska. Wilson started farming in 1979 with his wife Mary after leaving the oil industry. The couple wanted to raise their family in a rural environment, much like how they were raised. So they packed everything up and moved back to their home town where they live today.

Over the years the farm industry has seen much in the way of change. "Nobody tills the ground anymore, everything is chemical" says Dale. "Its to the point now, your input cost is so high that if you don't have a crop every year; your gone" says Dale when referring to how expensive farming has become. The Wilson family also raised hogs, but with the increase in corn prices they stopped.

"there was a time we sent em out by the semi-loads, but we don't anymore" says Mary when referring to their hog business. Mary started working for the post office in 1981. In 2003 she became the Postmaster for Cambridge, Nebraska where she works today. Both Mary and her husband Dale have sold a large majority of their farm land and plan to retire soon. Mary says "We encourage our kids to keep their jobs in the city, because there is not enough to say: come back and take over the farm."

2009-06-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

June 28, 2009, Arapahoe, Neb: Travis Counsell, a student at Elon University, North Carolina, says goodbye to his host Toby tenBensel. Counsell and 28 other riders are part of the 4K for Cancer, which is a non-profit group raising awareness about cancer through this ride across America. Counsell is dedicating his ride to his grandfather, who died in 1997 from cancer. He is also riding for other family members and friends who have been affected by cancer. The team is riding from Baltimore, Maryland to San Francisco. The group spent the night in Arapahoe at their hosts' homes.

Anne Smedinghoff gets in more rest before breakfast and before hitting the road again. Riders had to be at the First United Methodist Church at 5:15 in the morning. They were fed breakfast there.

Shareef Ghanem (right) and Caitlkin Leach give each other a hug as the riders prepare to hit the road. The were to ride about 98 miles and stop for the night in Benkelman. The riders are at the half-way point in their journey to San Francisco.

Before each ride, the team forms a circle. They quietly dedicate the day's ride to someone they know has had cancer. They then get psyched up for the ride by cheering, singing and chanting.

The team is off to Benkelman. This is the third year the ride has been hosted by the First United Methodist Church. The church members feed them dinner and breakfast, and have host families for them to stay with overnight.

Additional photo by Kyle Bruggeman

Lovin' life

2009-06-27T21:29:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

June 27, 2009, Arapahoe, Neb: "I woke up from surgery and was paralyzed," That was November 1979. Dennis Monter was 15 then. He had been in a motor vehicle accident.

I spent the morning with Dennis out at the 4-H trap shoot facility. "I just love working with kids," he said. He supervised the shotgun trap shooting.

Back in '79, Monter didn't think he had been seriously hurt when he pulled out from a stop, right into the path of another car. It hit him broadside. "I was more concerned with my friends with me in the car," he said. "I didn't think I was hurt too bad."

He was taken to the hospital in Kearney. He had a broken pelvis and a blood mass inside his chest. A doctor ordered him to Lincoln immediately.

That was before hospitals used helicopters. "My dad followed the ambulance down, told me later, at times we were going 130 miles an hour."

Lincoln doctors told him his aorta was damaged and needed surgery to repair it. They believe that a small piece of the damaged aorta broke loose and caused a stroke in his spine, which left him paralyzed from the waist down.

Now he's 44 years old, he works fulltime for a telephone company and handles the IT for its customers.

Back out at the trap shoot, "Pull!" one of the youngsters would yell. Monter had a hand-held device, pushed a button and out would fly the clay target from a concrete bunker located just a few yards in front of the shooters. Most of the time the youngsters would hit the saucer-like target, sending clay pieces flying out in different directions in the air.

After running all the age groups through their shooting competitions, everyone assembled inside for the awards. As kids, clutching their ribbons and medals, and parents shuffled past Monter to the door, many patted him on the shoulder and said "Good job Dennis. You're a good instructor."

"Thanks" he said. "Hope to see you back here next year."

Monter supervises shooters during the shotgun trap shoot competition.

Monter said he loves working with kids and teaching them to use guns safely and effectively for competitions.

In the clubhouse, Monter was constantly busy getting scoring sheets, meeting time schedules for competions and getting the kids to the right locations for the meet.

He said he loves to hunt and fish, believes his life is exactly the way it is supposed to be. After the meet concluded, he headed home to mow his yard. He has a remote controlled lawn mower. He said he gets a few people staring at it when they see it operating without anyone behind it.

Employed, unemployed and cream can

2009-06-27T19:56:00.000-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

June 27, 2009, Arapahoe, Neb: Raffi Wartanian, 22, screamed, "I found out an hour ago I just got a job in San Francisco!"

Wartanian, recently graduated from Johns Hopkins University with a degree in history, is participating in a bicycling trip across America helping to raise awareness about cancer.

The 29-member team, part of the 4K for Cancer, arrived in Arapahoe earlier in the day.
The First United Methodist Church hosted a dinner for the riders, church members, family and friends. The will spend the night in Arapahoe. Many Arapahoe-area families are housing the riders.

The cyclists left Baltimore on May 31 and hope to arrive in San Francisco on August 1.

Wartanian discovered a woman attending the dinner was from his hometown, Lutherville, Maryland.

Gail Morris, 67, who currently lives in Seattle, Washington, was in Arapahoe to fulfill her sister's last wishes. Her sister wanted to be buried in Arapahoe, where she and Gail spent their summers growing up with family.

Morris, who has been unemployed for a year and a half, is seriously thinking about moving to Nebraska, maybe in Arapahoe or Lincoln. "The low cost of living in a small town where people are friendly, I could live on my pension here," she said.

The ingredients are all cooked together in a cream can. The meal is corn, potatoes, carrots, sauerkraut and bratwurst. It is then all dumped in a trough-like serving dish. Diners can then scoop out what they want to eat and how much to eat. Toby tenBensel (left), 45, and Ted Downey, 37, pour in the next meal.

Room to feed

2009-06-27T12:58:00.001-07:00

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

To open a new business can be very stressful. Most new stores don't make a profit for at least a couple of years, and with the current economic stagnation one might expect that to be even more difficult. Not true for local restaurant owners Mitzi Urbom (left), husban Kevin Urbom and Lyndzie Holtze. After a little over a month of operation the new eatery is doing very well for itself.

Cunninghams Feed is a bakery, café, and grill all in one. Located in Arapahoe, Nebraska, this wonderfully refurbished location has as much history as it does great eats.

Before becoming a restaurant, Cunninghams was a grain feed store where farmers could buy livestock provision. Warren Urbom, 87, remembers when he moved to Arapahoe that the same one story building was operated as a grocery store.

Warren's youngest son Kevin has spent the last few years restoring the property to immaculate condition. "Almost every piece of wood had to be taken out and re-fitted" says Kevin. "I'm a lawyer by trade, but re-building this property has given me a lot more knowledge in carpentry."

Cunningham's is located at 603 Nebraska Avenue. The bakery is open Tuesday through Saturday, from 7 a.m. until 11 a.m. The restaurant is open Tuesday through Thursday, from 5 p.m. until 9 p.m. and Friday and Saturday 5 p.m. to 11 p.m. The restaurant has become popular among residents of neighboring communities as well, reservations are recommended.

Above left is the Cunningham's as a feed store, and right is how it looks today as a restaurant.

Pin-up girls

2009-06-26T20:28:00.000-07:00

Shirley Smith (center) rears back with laughter as she jokingly talks with her friends, Grace Faw (left) and Iris Upward, about raising money being calendar pin-up gals. The trio got together at the restaurant, Take Five, to celebrate Smith's 80th birthday.

Story and Photo by Bruce Thorson

June 2, 2009, Arapahoe, Neb: I met Grace Faw earlier in the day at Faw's Garage. Faw's is losing it Chrysler Dodge franchise, but it will not be closing. Her husband, Cal, is the owner and the garage will remain open for vehicle repairs and to continue to sell other vehicles. She mentioned that later in the day she was getting together to help her friend, Shirley Smith, celebrate her 80th birthday.

"That's what we do in small towns, take care of each other and look out for each other," she said.

That seems to be a recurring theme I'm finding out about Nebraskans as I journey along on this photo project.

When Grace mentioned the impromptu birthday party, I asked if I could attend. She said, "Of course you can come." All three women are native Nebraskans.

And all three women remember life's harder times from years past than what the nation is experiencing now. "Small towns are not as effected. We don't demand high wages like in the bigger cities," Smith said.

She went on to say, "We didn't have closets filled with clothes and toys like kids have today. It was always after the election, had to be after the election and not before, we'd fold the metal, politicians' signs like a toboggan and ride it on the snow. Those signs were much bigger then and not like the smaller, cardboard ones they use now."

“We used a fence to make into a teeter-totter, put a wooden plank over and we had a teeter-totter,” Faw said.

Nebraskans, the older ones anyway, found ways while growing up during life’s hard times to make do with what they had. They spent their days outside playing, no TV, no iPods and no computer, just their imaginations and whatever "toys" they could find, like a fence and a plank.

Update from the road: Arapahoe

2009-06-25T21:47:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 25, 2009, Arapahoe, Neb: "I’ve been broke twice in my lifetime," said Alton Bossung, 70. "I had to crawl on my hands and knees but I came back," he said as he mowed his front yard Thursday evening as the weather cooled. In the background is Faw's Garage, a Chrysler, Plymouth and Dodge truck dealership. Faw's is losing its Chrysler Dodge franchise, but it will not be closing. Calvin Faw will continue to keep the garage open for vehicle repairs and to sell other vehicles. Bossung, who farmed for about 30 years, has worked the last six years for Cargill, dealing in fertilizer and grain. About the economy and its effects in Arapahoe, "We don't notice it right now in these smaller towns. Cargill has had the best year it ever had," he said as he chuckled a little.

Laugh and be resilient

2009-06-25T14:18:00.000-07:00

Whitney Dahl, 20, with the family dog Zoey (left) and her service dog, Alfe, has the neighborhood all to herself. Several homes were destroyed in 2003 by a tornado. The residents left, deciding not to rebuild and leaving driveways to nowhere.

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

June 24, 2009, Deshler, Neb: I first met Whitney Dahl, 20, at Grandpa’s Crossing, a cafe in Deshler. Before this face-to-face meeting, after hearing about Whitney from a Carleton resident, I phoned Whitney to talk with her about being in the photo documentary project.

I told her I wanted to photograph her. She was born with cerebral palsy. She agreed to the photo shoot.

Two minutes later she phoned me back and said,” I have some pictures of me already. Can't you just use those, maybe scan them into your computer?" "No," I replied. "I have to have my own photographs of you and not from some other photographer." Whitney, like most of the subjects I photograph, doesn't like to have her picture taken.

Whitney is a charming and delightful young woman, full of humor, even if it is a little on the dry side. Her laugh is infectious. She’s going to attend University of Nebraska-Kearney this fall to study psychology. She wants to be a counselor.

And despite today's economic woes, she is hopeful her future job will still be there.

Her primary mode of mobility is a motorized chair. She can walk with the aid of a walker and walks about two blocks every day.

Doctors think she received her condition when, in the womb, her twin died at 12 weeks and from that her oxygen was cut off.

I think Whitney is resilient. A snafu came up with her college dorm situation, how she dealt with the problem and came to a resolution to it tells me that I'm right.

But what is remarkable is how she and her service dog, Alfe, a black lab, might have saved her family's life.

She and her mom, Paula, were in Washington, Kansas for a week. That was where she first met Alfe.

It was June 2003.

During that week, she and Alfe trained together. Alfe would perform tasks for Whitney such as picking up any objects she might accidently drop.

Her dad, Tom, and her two younger sisters drove down to see the new addition to their family.

While they were all away doing the meet-and-greet thing, a tornado struck Deshler, killing one resident. Their home, and four or five neighbor’s homes, was totally destroyed.

Alfe, now nine years old in human years, is being retired. He has arthritis but is still active, still goes for walks with Whitney.

When Whitney heads off to Kearny for college, it will be her first time without Alfe in about the last seven years. I could tell from the sound of her voice and the expression on her face, this separation will be tough.

Who knows what the "ifs" might have been had they not all been away greeting the service dog.

And who knows if keeping the family all away from the deadly tornado was maybe his greatest service of all.

Whitney (above) goes through all the emotions of spending two and half hours, four days a week, studying algebra, as she readies herself for college this fall at UNK. Her proctor is Cindy Mueller, a Deshler resident for 25 years and has known Whitney since the fifth grade.

A trainers life

2009-06-25T08:20:00.000-07:00

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

June 24th, 2009, Nora, Neb: Just about everything is sold on the internet today. That includes horses. You can buy a horse online from P.D. Jones, 61, or as he likes to be called 'Bud.'

Bud is a genuine and hard working man. He is albino and legally blind. Bud raises horses from a yearling, which is a horse of either sex that is between one and two years old, trains them for riding, and sells them when they are ready.

Bud was born in Superior, Nebraska but has spent a large majority of his life in Nora, Nebraska. Bud grew up on a farm where his grandfather was a horse trainer. He spent his days learning his trade and creating a place for locals to come and learn how to ride as well as participate in rodeos.

"Busines sucks" says Bud when referring to the last ten years, but as of today he's "glad to be sold out." Aside from selling horses, Bud also sells a horse-training-device called a Snaffle Bit Nose Piece that he uses while riding the horse.

Bud lives in a one person trailer with his dog Paris (pictured below). He likes living in Nebraska because he feels safe and it's where he can do his business best. See more of Bud's work on his YouTube channel at: http://www.youtube.com/user/pdj47

Aurora Co-op

2009-06-24T18:11:00.000-07:00

Story and Photo by Clay Lomneth

June 22, 2009, Carleton, Neb.: After emptying a tank of fertilizer, Doug Huber, assistant manager at Aurora Co-op in Carleton and Amanda Sykora from Deweese joke with each other before heading back to work. Huber said the fertilizer business has not been touched much by the recession, because of the success of the agricultural industry. Because of last year's high gasoline prices, fertilizer prices rose but have since fallen back to normal levels.

"When you start talking $1,000 a ton for liquid fertilizer...that's high priced," he said. "I would say the norm for the last 10 years would be...probably about $300."

Carleton

2009-06-24T13:55:00.000-07:00

Photos and story by Patrick Breen

June 22, 2009, Carleton, Neb: Pastor Jon Jensen travels from Carleton to Hebron to give services to the Blue Valley Lutheran Homes on every Monday and Thursday. He gives a service to those in a nursing home, an Alzheimer's unit and a care home for people with mental disabilities.

Jensen says he has enjoyed Carleton after being there for 16 years and the community is one that he loves. He said that they, like him are a bunch of characters.

Skimming by

2009-06-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

Photos and story by Kyle Bruggeman

June 23rd, 2009, Carleton, Neb: Cattle (Bos primigenius) are abundant in Nebraska. They graze across a majority of the states pastures and are one of the biggest industries Nebraska has. A majority of that industry is in beef. However, there are a few farmers who raise cattle for milk exporting. Bob Beavers is one such farmer.

Beavers runs a farm just north of Carleton, Nebraska. There he raises cattle from birth to be milked for human consumption. Such an industry is facing some difficult times. Beavers once sold his milk to Meadow Gold in Lincoln, Nebraska until they went out of business.

Beavers also farms corn, soy and alfalfa, which he uses mostly to feed his cattle. "It's difficult work" says Beavers "there's not many of us left" referring to the fact that many farmers have left the milk industry due to high costs.

Musings...corn, fogging and bird strike!!!

2009-06-23T08:15:00.001-07:00

Story and photos by Bruce Thorson

June 20-21, 2009, DeWitt, Neb:

Corn--Farmers in the DeWitt area took a huge hit from the weather. The fields were pounded with hail, the size of golf balls and baseballs, for several times in one week; one resident commented that after the storm passed it was so white it looked like a winter scene. According to Swanton's mayor, Charlie Runty, the devastated acreage could be as high as 20,000. I saw many farmers on tractors out tearing up, cutting down and tilling over previously planted corn and soybean fields. Many residential dwellings were having the roofs replaced, as well. The grandfathers, the dads and the sons all had the same message, "We've never seen hail damage like this." Many of the farmers were replanting.

Fogging--It has been a very long time since I saw a fogging, that was back in Williston, North Dakota, probably about 1967. Communities do this to cut down on mosquitoes. That first time I saw it, well, I actually heard it first. A Briggs & Stratton engine makes a lot of noise, especially back in 1967 when engine design and technology didn't do much in the way of cutting down sound, and then throw on top of that a sprayer and nozzle that spews out a mist 20 feet into the air. It will catch your attention and that's what happened when I heard a somewhat familiar sound from our trailer perched at DeWitt's baseball field. Peering out the trailer's window, I spotted a clean, shiny-white Dodge truck, a fire hose-like nozzle extending at an angle that made it not quite vertical and a then that mist billowing into the air. I jumped into my Chevy suburban and caught up to the rig. Motioning to the driver I wanted to talk, he pulled over. He mentioned he did this about once a week or so, cutting down those mosquitoes. I already had close to a dozen or so itchy bites on my legs; don't how much good fogging does, if any. I asked the driver what the chemical was spewing into the air. He responded with some long word like phenyl-diclor-oxy-benz-hydro-zine-drine-cohol...I said sounds like cancer to me. "Oh, no," he said. "It's perfectly safe stuff now." Years from now if DeWitt turns out to be town featured in a Stephen King nightmaris-like novel, maybe we'll know why.

Bird strike!--I didn't lose an engine and I didn't have to ditch in the Hudson River. I do feel sorry for animals that end up as roadkill. I try my best to avoid taking them out, ending their life. These critters and feathered friends are all part of the land's environment and the land's health. I was driving back to DeWitt from Wilber; just picked up some groceries. I saw the bird fluttering out over the road, just about grill-high on my vehicle. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, thoughts raced through my head as I hoped it would "get outta the way!" I pulled my foot off the accelerator but I wasn't about to slam on the brakes. I like animals and birds but I'm not about to get in an accident trying to avoid them. I'll try slowing down to let them live another day but that's about it. The bird disappeared from my view as my vehicle's hood blocked my view. I quickly looked in my driver's side mirror. No bird visible. I hoped it had escaped the collision. I did not hear that familiar "thud" one hears when a soft-bodied animal or bird strikes a car. About an hour later, after returning to the trailer and I had forgotten about the possible bird strike!, Patrick Breen, one of the photo students on our project, was standing at the front of the vehicle. "You hit a bird," he said. I walked to the front of the car, already recalling the previous vision of the bird fluttering in the air as it hung out over the highway in front of my 60-mph car. And there it was, lying on top of the bumper with its body pushed up against the grill, eyes closed. I used a paper towel to protect my hand, plucked it off the bumper, dug a hole and dropped it in. As I covered it over with dirt, I noticed I must have disturbed an ant colony, as they were running like crazy all over the dirt. Then, I thought the ants must have been calling out to all their fellow ants, "Buffet!"

All in the family...and a friend, too

2009-06-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 19, 2009, DeWitt, Neb: I walked across the grassy field out beyond the outfield fence of DeWitt's baseball park where our travel trailer is parked. I had one camera slung over my shoulder and a notepad in my pocket.

I was headed a couple hundred yards to the residential neighborhood on the other side of the park, just past the water tower with the name "DeWitt" painted boldly and proudly on its side.

As I turned the corner walking on the sidewalk, I saw a large, white dog sleeping soundly on the driveway. Just at that moment, Roy Scherling, 53, gray and black, curly, frizzy hair and a gray and black beard, emerged from the garage, apparently heading across the street to check the mail.

He had strolled just past the sleeping dog, when the dog woke up, lifted its sleepy head, spied me and took off at full tilt, full bark, full set of canine choppers, and took the shortest distance between two points: me and him, which is the definition of a straight line but not an item that crossed my mind in this time sequence.

I froze, stood my ground and within a few moments the dog and I were getting acquainted in a friendly manner...whew!

I looked Roy straight in the eye and gave him the pitch paragraph about our photo project.

Roy read my lips, literally...You see, Roy is deaf.

His wife, Peggy, 52, deaf. Their oldest son, Jonathan, 25, deaf; second son, Joshua, 23, deaf; their daughter, Johanna, 14, deaf.

Oh yeah, that white, barking dog I was positive was a pit bull, yup, he's deaf, too. With the exception of the deaf dog, I knew about their disability before I met the Scherlings. I found this out through conversations with the locals.

Peggy wrote, "My mom is deaf. She also has two siblings that are deaf but their children and grandchildren are not deaf. I am the only one that was born deaf and then my children. My aunt and uncle don't understand why. My dad became deaf at two years old. Grandma doesn't know what caused his deafness, either by high fever or a strong wind. The roof fell down and hit him in the head; blood came out of his ears. Lots of questions in the past, but it didn't matter to me.

"On Roy's side, he's the only one deaf in his family."

It was strange feeling for me to be in their home, to see the communicating going on between two adults and two teenagers and hearing the silence. But what I saw and what I "heard" looked a lot like a very close and very loving family.

When I finished packing up the strobe light and other accessories that I used to take their portrait, Johanna, Peggy and Carly each gave me a big, big hug. Roy gave me the guy-to-guy-vise-grip handshake...ouch! my knuckles hurt.

As I left the Scherling's residence, there was another animal sleeping in the driveway, a cat. I pointed to the cat and asked Roy, "Is the cat deaf, too?" Roy grinned from ear to ear, laughed, and shook his head to say, "No."

In the photo above, Carly Weyers, 15, from Waverly, Neb., Roy Scherling, 53, Peggy Scherling, 52 and Johanna Scherling, 14. Carly is deaf and is a friend of Johanna. She was visiting from Waverly. The dog is Fuji. The little dog in Roy's lap is named Tuesday. She is the only one in this picture who can hear.

Pitch men

2009-06-22T08:30:00.001-07:00

Audio story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 20, 2009, Swanton, Neb: Mike Shesteak (left), 68, and Glenn Schwisow, 79, both retired farmers and native Nebraskans, pass the time on Saturday playing a game of pitch at The Corner Tavern. Shesteak says because he's retired the economy hasn't had an effect on his life.

To hear what Schwisow has to say about how the economy has affected him, listen to the audio below.

Audio recorded and edited by Bruce Thorson

Larry Bartels

2009-06-21T16:04:00.001-07:00

Story and Photo By Clay Lomneth

JUNE 19, 2009, DEWITT, NEB.; My nostrils can now recognize the difference between cow and pig poop. Cow has an overwhelming nastiness to it, the kind of stench that makes you roll up your window when you're driving by. What's worse is the after-smell, after you inhale all the way there is almost a bite to the smell that makes you wrinkle your nose against your will. Pig is a lot more subtle, you feel like you are standing downwind of it, even if you're standing right in it. It's a lot friendlier, but it does follow you around all day.

I didn't mean to learn this, it just happened. As my new friend Larry Bartels says: The world runs on, well, poo.

Larry works on Waldo Farms, one of the largest farms with purebred Duroc pigs in the world. The manager, Max Waldo, has hog farming in his blood. Max's grandfather started the Duroc population on the farm in 1895, and a lot has changed since then. They've branched out and begun to raise other pigs, like York and Landrunner.

The industry has narrowed, too. "At one time everyone had a few pigs," Max said. Farmers began focusing on one thing, whether it be corn, cattle or pigs. The Waldos do grow some of their own corn and soybeans, all of it going to feed the pigs. Larger operations like the Waldos tend to survive because of better management and funding. The smaller ones have slowly died out. "There's been a great decline in the number of hog farms," he said.

Part of the reason for this is how costly it is to run a hog farm these days. Max estimates that for every pig sold today, the hog farmer loses about $20. Ethanol is one of the main reasons. "Feed costs for pigs is about 65 to 70 percent of the total production costs."

Hog farming took an especially big hit, bigger than cattle or poultry. The H1N1 virus was the main cause for this. "People in Mexico almost stopped eating pork," Max said.

Life goes on and people still buy hogs. Henry Maendel from Rosebank Colony, Miami, MB drove from Canada to Waldo Farms to buy hogs. He's been buying from the Waldos for over 20 years now. "Very nice people, very honest," he said.

I watched as Henry saw hogs paraded in front of him and tried to catch on to what he was looking for. Three groups of as many as 16 hogs were shown, and Henry somehow saw through the crowd (and the noise and the smell) and picked out a handful of hogs that, to be honest, didn't look any different than the ones he left behind.

"Henry, this one's got a pinched nerve or something," Chad, a Waldo Farm employee pointed out. Sure enough, there was a pig among them that had a slight limp, something I don't think that even Henry would have noticed right away.

After the pigs were all loaded up, Henry called everyone around to show something off. He pulled a photo from his pocket, a photo of the very first pig he bought here, 25 years ago. Henry roared with laughter, everyone else shook their heads in disbelief and chuckled. Everyone was amazed at how much the pigs at the farm had changed, how much they have improved. "Just a bloody brick of meat!" Henry said. Just looked like a regular pig to me.

But the man who taught me the most about pigs was Larry. Larry has been working at Waldo Farms since he was 11, it was the first and only job he's ever held. He seemed a bit embarrassed to say how much he liked his job, but let me tell you: Larry knows his pigs. I doubt he could be happier.

Unloading recently-weened piglets into the nursery from an old school bus (there is a joke there somewhere, I just can't think of it), Larry worked with a speed that comes with 47 years is in the business.

Picking them up by their hind legs is misleading; it looks a lot worse than it is. It's a lot like picking up a kitten by the scruff of its neck - an easy, quick way to move it without harming it. Now and then Larry would get a squealer. The pig would complain until set down in its pen, where it proceeded to forget what it was complaining about and explored its new environment.

Larry was great, a lot of fun to be around. Despite being constantly worried about me being an undercover PETA agent or writing down every time he said the "s"-word, he later trusted me enough to take me for a ride in his 1930 Model A.

Cruising down the highway at a blazing 45 miles per hour (Larry was really excited about this, before he had thought his top speed was 40) I realized something that's been happening a lot on this trip: I made a new friend.

A brief history of Alfred Lisec

2009-06-21T15:16:00.000-07:00

Photo and story by Kyle Bruggeman

June 21st, 2009, Swanton, Neb: In the sleepy little town of Swanton Nebraska lies a stretch of property with an old abandoned house, a chicken coup, and some rusty farm equipment used in times gone by. If your lucky, you may come across Alfred Lisec, 80, who moved to Swanton from Odell Nebraska in 1937. Lisec has been a county commissioner, the town mayor, and spent most of his life as a carpenter in which he built an auditorium and a church for his community.

Lisec has seen many changes to Swanton over the last eighty years. The town once had three grocery stores and three taverns, but today there is only one of each.

"The town has had a hard time surviving" Lisec said when referring to a flood that damaged the community in 1984 and forced the rail road company to abandon its tracks. Lisec was working at the grain elevators at the time of the flood. Now the grain is sent out through trucks to Plymouth and Dorchester, which has led to a decrease in population for Swanton.

Today Lisec is retired and spends his days raising sheep to sell in Palmyra. His favorite beer is Coors, but he drinks Coors Light when he visits with the local folks inside The Corner Tavern.

Update from the Road: Swanton

2009-06-21T13:12:00.001-07:00

Duane Sutter and his son Nathan, sit on Duane's riding lawn-mower.

Audio recorded and edited by Bruce Thorson

Duane Sutter

Sutter mows lawns for the entire village of Swanton.

Photos and story by Patrick Breen

Driving into the small town of Swanton, Bruce Thorson spotted another small-town situation that seems to play out almost everywhere we go. A man driving his kid on his riding lawn-mower. Our plan was to head out to Swanton because we heard the residents had some mighty bad hail damage.

A few days before I had followed around Ryan Birkett and his family as he discussed the hail damage to their crops and the roofs of DeWitt. He said he lost close to half his yield and figured the damage close to $40,000. Birkett said that even with the rush replanting that he and his brothers did, he imagines he'll only lose a third of his total profit. Birkett said that these last few hail storms, which hit earlier this month were some of the worst he has ever seen. Now, one of Swanton's 100 or so residents was describing the hail damage done to local crops and his job of mowing basically the whole area of Swanton.

Sutter was hoping to finish mowing in the next few days so that by Thursday he could be up in South Dakota fishing with his son.

After talking to Sutter for awhile, we went down to the local bar, The Corner Tavern, in which we found some very interesting people. We were challenged to a game of pitch, if you don't know what that is, you, Bruce and I are in the same boat. Nevertheless, we played and enjoyed talking with the two older men.

Even the bar owner lost a garden he had planted. Whether it was small or large, the people of Swanton and DeWitt seemed to still have their smiles and cheer about them.

Life-changing day, part I

2009-06-21T07:31:00.001-07:00

Audio story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 19, 2009, DeWitt, Neb: Kayden Parry, 6, lives with his dad, Nick Parry, in a rural farm setting a couple of miles northeast of DeWitt. Four years ago the two went through a day that changed both of them forever. Kayden has a brother, Jarrod Parry, 11, and a sister, Sydney, 13.

Audio recorded and edited by Bruce Thorson

Life-changing day, part II

2009-06-21T07:24:00.001-07:00

June 19, 2009, DeWitt, Neb: Nick Parry. Photo by Kayden Parry

Bruce Thorson and Kayden Parry do a little "arm" wrestling. Photo by Nick Parry

Story by Bruce Thorson

My arm was amputated in a motorcycle accident in 1971. I lost control of my bike going 65 mph. It was a narrow, winding and rural road in north San Diego county.

Going into an S-curve, I was going too fast. I was headed for the guy wire (a support cable) on a telephone pole. I struck the wire. The cable amputated my arm instantly, and I suffered a compound fracture of my right femur and broke both bones just above the wrist on my left arm.

Three years and over 15 major surgeries later, my doctor managed to put me back together.

After all that, I returned to Mammoth Mountain, California, where I had worked for a season prior to my accident, and started skiing again with one ski pole. I later became a ski instructor at Mt. Bachelor, Bend, Ore.

Going back to college some years later (I was an older, "non-traditional" student) I went into journalism and had a 25-year career in newspapers as a photographer, photo editor and director of photography.

Kayden, you'll do just fine. And Nick, happy Father's Day. You're doing a great job with your kids...Bruce Thorson

Update from the Road: DeWitt

2009-06-18T09:54:00.000-07:00

(Audio only; recorded and edited by Bruce Thorson)

This is a 60-acre lake located on Shawn Cole's property located several miles west of DeWitt.

(Photo by Patrick Breen)

Shawn Cole (left) and Charlie Partin

(Photo by Clay Lomneth)

Charlie Partin

(Photo by Kyle Bruggeman)

Story by Kyle Bruggeman, Clay Lomneth and Patrick Breen

June 16, 2009, DeWitt, Neb: It's been said Nebraska doesn't have a landscape. Instead, because the sky is such a dominating force in the state, people refer to it as a "skyscape", an un-interrupted beautiful spectacle of nature. And as the night grew darker, and a local named Travis became more and more intoxicated, the night Nebraska skyscape was lit by a small fire and entertainment.

A campfire. Sitting around a campfire is a pre-historic pastime. It's been done by every culture throughout every part of the world for as long as we've been able to harness the flame. A place to share stories and sing songs. A place where you don't mind getting dirt between your toes as the fumes from burning wood permeates your clothes.

The night started the same way others had for us on this trip. We would head into a local bar and meet more Nebraskans. They would tell us a story or two and we would get names and numbers for future stories. By the end of the night, we were invited out to the side of a lake. Bruce told Clay once on a trip to Kosovo: "If you think you'll regret not doing it, just go ahead and do it." And we couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.

Ignited by a douse of diesel fuel, the night began.

Two men sat outside the flames and had the perfect ingredients for a campfire euphoria. Guitars. Bongos. And beer.

But this wasn't a typical boy-scout campfire, for singer and songwriter Shawn Cole, the spiritual song of Kumbaya is not exactly a favorite. Cole would rather sing his own blue grass songs about love, liquor, and everyday life. A true Nebraska story.

The one man band was joined by long time friend Charlie Partin, a retired brick sculptor and architect with a love for playing a banjo.

Alongside the men, the 6-acre lake sat peaceful and quiet. Together they sang a few tunes and drank a few beers and spoke of days gone by as the Milky Way shimmered above their heads.

The Milky Way was gorgeous. And there wasn't anything to interrupt its beauty. No mountains, no city lights, no houses. No sounds of the interstate, no neighbors arguing in the street. We were a long way away from anything else, but a song and a smile stayed near.

Partin, who is moving to Canada said to Cole, "I'm sure gonna miss jamming with you this summer." Cole agreed.

There wasn't a single tear shed, but we knew it was true. We knew these two friendly musicians were going to miss each other's melodies.

As the stars seemed to grow brighter, and the fire seemed to dim, Cole lifted his guitar and Charlie, his bongos, and another song drifted into the early morning sky.

The life and times of Harriet Peterson Fort

2009-06-18T09:43:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Kyle Bruggeman

June 18, 2009, DeWitt, Neb: Most people hope to live to an old age, yet most of us never conceive of getting near the century mark. But for Harriet Peterson Fort, that conception is a reality. At age 99 she's as sharp as a tack and as lively as a teenager.

Fort was born on January 21st 1910 in Axtel Nebraska. She grew up in various places until finally settling in DeWitt, Nebraska. She was a school teacher for a few years until she began marketing an all purpose wrench that her father invented in 1920.

The wrench would become world renowned as the Vice-Grip. It would be in the 1930's that Harriet placed a large emphasis on direct sales organization. Small ads in Specialty Salesman and Opportunity magazines helped attract direct sales agents.

Fort's book The Pioneer Story of Bill & Ane Peterson: And The Evolution of the Vice-Grip chronicles her family history and explains how one invention would help sustain an entire community through the hardest economic times of the United States.

An excerpt from her book gives a great example of how life was like in her community during the depression.

It must be borne in mind that the depression was deep upon the land. People were without money. Corn was selling for ten cents a bushel and it was often burned for fuel. Some of the stories that come to mind from those early sales efforts were amusing in their sadness. Farmers were good prospects because they could readily see that one of these tools would perform a multitude of jobs on the farm. Sometimes when a farmer wanted a Vise-Grip badly but had no money he would propose a barter–some chickens for a wrench. The salesman would make a deal and would then pack up the chickens and deliver them to the local produce station where he would convert them into cash.

Today Fort lives in DeWitt and is a philanthropist for the community. She has donated to several projects to help the community, including a recent donation to KC's Grocery. A store that opened this week in De Witt that will allow the community to get their goods without having to travel to the nearest town.

Fort and her family will continue to help their community and are a great example of what makes Nebraska; the good life.

Sources:

The Pioneer Story of Bill & Ane Peterson: And The Evolution of the Vice-Grip

by Harriet Petersen Fort

Update from the road: Dorchester

2009-06-16T12:11:00.001-07:00

Story and photo by Patrick Breen

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Collyn Brummett, 6, climbs a railing at a Dorchester softball game on Monday night as his friends, Austin Seeman and Ridge Hoffmin sit along the back of the railing.

I'm growing accustomed to this trailer, these guys and missing home.

I am sitting in the trailer trying to come up with something insightful and witty, but seem to just fade back into wondering, "Did I eat two lunches yesterday?" I think the answer is yes.

Our days in Dorchester have been better than anything I could describe in words. Everyone here greets us with a big smile and a few stories. Yesterday, Kyle and I went into the local Dorchester Grocery to see what he had to say.

His name was John Bruha and he owned the store for three years as of today. He had a lot to say about the economy, but most of it was focused around Walmart. One of the things that small communities do well is support each other. Or at least that is what we were finding in other towns. The only difference here in Dorchester was that there was a Walmart nearby in Crete.

He said, people would drive the extra time and use about $5 in gas, which might make-up the difference in their bill.

He is right. Walmart brings down small businesses like his. He said that times are tough, but he hopes it gets better.

And so do we.

Story and photo by Kyle Bruggeman

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Jordan Inderlied, 18, shoots a game of pool while adults sit at the bar and watch the College World Series in Joe's Place in Dorchester Nebraska. Small town bars have a much different attitude than those of larger cities. In Lincoln, for example, one must usually wait in a line just to get in. Once you've finally made it to the bar your battling another line of people to get a drink.

Joe's Place is not anything like the situation described above. Here you can get in easily and the bartender asks you if you need anything before you get to the counter. It's a friendly place where the entire family is welcome and price of a cold beer on tap is only a dollar. A great price during these economic times. The lyrics to the old television show Cheers describes it best: where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.

Update from the road: Dorchester

2009-06-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Deb Spanyers, 49, remembers "...when the mosquito bit me. I was at the county fair with my two daughters," she said. Spanyers, Saline county treasurer, was infected with the West Nile virus from that bite.

"I remember shortly after that feeling flu-like symptoms." Then, she said, "A rash appeared and I thought I better go to the doctor." That was on a Friday, August 2006. The doctor told her it was probably just the flu and she should be feeling better by Monday.

By Sunday, however, she couldn't walk or get out of bed. "My mom and husband loaded me into the car drove me to the hospital in Crete. In retrospect, that was probably a mistake. We should have headed straight for Lincoln."

The doctors in Crete were unsure what was wrong. "The next day my mom said we're going to Lincoln. After Crete, I was out of it and don't remember much of anything. The Lincoln doctors, at first, went back and forth as to whether or not it was the West Nile virus," she said.

Weakened by the West Nile, another disorder joined in. Guillain Barré syndrome is very rare, uses the body's immune system to attack the nervous system. As a result of both disorders together, Spanyers is in a wheelchair.

She can perform some tasks walking, using the aid of a walker, but "I feel safest getting around in the wheelchair," she said. She's not real stable walking. She also uses a motorized chair scooter, too. Her car is outfitted with a wheelchair car-top carrier. Using a riding lawnmower, she mows her own lawn and attaches the walker to the mower "just in case the mower breaks down and I can use it to get away," she said.

In this economic downturn, Spanyers isn't worried about her job. "I'm an elected official. I have a guaranteed position for four years."

Spanyers, despite a divorce, health and life-style changes brought on by the disorders, is optimistic, has a strong sense of humor and a spirit that has a "can do" outlook. She won't let her disability keep from doing what she wants to do.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Taylor Miller, 6, lives in Crete, was on the Dorchester sidewalk trying to learn how to use the hula hoop her father, Kelly Miller, purchased the day before.

At times, the toy hoop wound around her neck, at times around her waist and at times around her ankles.

A short time later, Taylor said, "It's hot and I'm tired," and went inside Dorchester's latest business venture, Ben's Bar and Grill. Her father was working inside.

Kelly is a certified chef and restaurant developer. "Ben Haufle is the owner and a friend of mine and I've been helping him get this started," he said.

In dealing with today's economic times, Kelly said, "If you work hard at something, you will get something out of it, regardless of the economy." Kelly believes that starting a restaurant in a small town like Dorchester will work. "I believe that using traditional methods, using quality, integrity and consistency, targeting the middle working class, keeping prices low, the restaurant will be successful."

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Milligan's 14 and under softball team enjoyed a victory celebration at Joe's Place, one of two Dorchester bars, after defeating Dorchester 12-7. When a sudden thunder and lightning storm struck the area, the team members poured themselves outside to dance in the rain's downpour. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 15, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Milligan's 14-and-under softball team enjoyed a victory celebration at Joe's Place, one of two Dorchester bars, after defeating Dorchester 12-7. Brianna Hafer (right), 11, of Geneva, Neb., said, "I haven't noticed any effects from the recession. My parents would probably know, though." (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Update from the road: Dorchester

2009-06-14T11:33:00.001-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 13, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: J.P. Barley (right), 53, has lived here for the last 20 years. After it rains he jumps on a tractor and pulls a metal grate across the town's dirt roads. "The road graders come through here and try to grad out the washboards when it's dry. You can't do it that way. You fill a pothole with dry dirt and the first time someone drives through it, poof, all the dirt in the hole flys out. You still have a pothole. Dry dirt don't compact," he said. "Wet dirt," he said with a laugh, "will compact." Barley has worked at a meat packing plant in Lincoln for the last 31 years. Barley was enjoying the late afternoon camaraderie with Jason Preslicka (left), 37, Matt Pracheil, 26 and Barley's son, L.J. Barley, 25. L.J. also works at the meat packing plant. Preslicka will start work there, too, this week. Preslicka was salvaging iron and scrap metal for the last couple of years but the economy has changed that. "Iron prices went to hell," he said. Preslicka pointed to piece of scrap iron there on the street corner where they were standing. "That piece right there is probably about a ton. A year ago that would get you $418. Today it's worth about $30. And that's the reason he's making a job change. "The cost of iron and metal is directly related to the price of gasoline and the car business, and both have gone down," he said. Preslicka, quick with a big, toothy, friendly grin, jumped in the rear seat of his friend's pickup truck, waved goodbye and drove off for Lincoln, his new hometown.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 13, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Donna Parks, 47, is a licensed barber, been one for 26 years. She owns Donna's Hair Creations and says business is doing better than last year.

Story and photo by Patrick Breen

June 13, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Kohl Tyser, 7, runs alongside the Grocery store in Dorchester, Neb. Born and raised in Dochester, Tyser said he like the town and had tons of friends to play with.

Our first day back on the road and I was feeling oddly uneasy. The quick drive from Lincoln to Dorchester was a relief though, and Clay, who is bringing his car, got us there surprisingly safely.

My first impression of Dorchester was the same as many small towns we have been through so far. A few business clustered around the paved main street, and then gravel roads the rest of the way around town.

I took a good half-an-hour just exploring the town. Literally walking from one end to the other. As the rocks grind and slip in-between my feet, I look onto porches and into garages for the people. I didn't notice much, but have found a very common theme walking through their bumpy streets. America.

I can't tell you definitively that small towns love America more than large cities, but if you took the ratio of American related lawn ornaments in small towns to cities, I bet it would be close to 2 to 1.

My favorite house was one a few back blocks from main street. The America flag looked new. As close to new as a flag can get, I guess. The lawn posted a sign reading "America" painted red, blue and white. The colors which America has adopted and raised. Standing a few yards away, and kind of staring creepily at me looks like either a pilgram or early patriot holding an American flag. The house had the customary four American flags hanging from different parts of their house and I assumed that on fourth of July, the house would add an "I love America" banner to its repertoire.

The people who lived there either weren't home or were strenuously trying to avoid having their picture taken. I cursed to myself, thinking about what a wonderful portrait it would have made for an old couple.

One of the things I have noticed when perusing these small towns and talking to their residents, is that the freedom this country provides is very important to them. Most know of someone close that is in or was in the military. They understand the sacrifice those people make.

In no way am I saying that cities like Lincoln don't appreciate its military, but I believe these small towns just have become more accustomed to members of their community joining the army to fight for America.

As these thoughts leave my mind, and my feet walk away from the patriotic house, I remember I am here to document not comment. I pull the camera strap a little tighter and take off back down the road looking for some more of these small-town Americans.

Story and photo by Clay Lomneth

June 14, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: They say nothing ever happens in small towns. The "they" in that sentence includes everyone in Dorechester I talked to yesterday. We would ask them what goes on in Dorechester, what do people do here? Every one of them would look at us, cock their head to the side and repeat the question in disbelief. Some would even look around as if trying to spot the hidden cameras.

I beg to differ. Plenty goes on in small towns, plenty that we journalists are just itching to photograph. Plenty of things a lot of small-town residents are used to.

Something as simple as a child walking down main street in Dorechester could make a good image. That never happens in Lincoln or Omaha, you wouldn't see a seven-year-old taking a stroll down O or Dodge Streets.

A lot goes on in Dorechester if you know where to look. Lucky for us, a lot of the action was right in our backyard.

We're parked in back of a bar right now, the owner Rob was more than kind enough to let us use his electricity and property as home base.

Kyle, Pat and I had just about given up in Dorechester, as far as images went. We were about to just trust the people in the town when they said "Nothing happens here."

Kyle and I decided to go explore again, and we walked outside, cameras in hand. Kyle was munching on an apple, and he threw it absentmindedly toward the basketball court when he finished. When he looked back to see where it landed, he noticed a group of kids hanging out near a van.

"I almost hit them," Kyle laughed.

We went over to see what they were up to. Crowded around a van, they were also trying to figure out what was going on in Dorechester that night. There was talk about a beer pong tournament going on in a house on Main Street, and we were informed we missed a hundred-foot long Slip 'n' Slide a while back.

So what was going on tonight? One of the teens, Simon, broke out some golf clubs he had bought at a thrift store for 3 bucks. He began hitting drives over the basketball court, chuckling at what he might have hit when the ball landed.

That died down, and a pick-up game of basketball begun. The first game ended fine (minus an argument or two about flagrant fouls). Then they decided to make things interesting, putting some money on the table. After two games, even that got old. "Lost 11 [freaking] dollars to those [hooligans]," one player grumbled. (Note: some words in that sentence were changed in order to publish this.)

Kyle and I spent a little bit more time with them, and when it looked like the night was just wrapping up, we said goodnight. "We'll let you know if we decide to do anything stupid," Simon called after us.

Story and photo by Kyle Bruggeman

June 14th, 2009, Dorchester, Neb: Many people talk about the 'American Dream.' They talk about what it means to them and how they plan to go about getting it. For Dorchester resident Nancy Wilson and her son Levi it's all about family (pictured above). For husband and father Jon Wilson, 31, that dream means being a provider for his children and to follow "the path that God has set" for him.

Wilson has lived in a small community all his life. He has seen an influx of Latino people that come to Nebraska for work in factories. He calls America a "pot of stew" where everyone comes for a dream and opportunity. And that everyone has the right to be happy.

Wilson is originally from Hiawatha Kansas. after being promoted in his job at Schwan's Food Delivery Wilson moved to Dorchester five months ago. Wilson has seen an increase in his business. Which he says might be because "people don't want to spend money on gas to get their food." Whatever the case may be, it has allowed him and his family to live a little more comfortably in a time when other families are not.

Plattsmouth, Barada and the team...

2009-06-12T12:47:00.000-07:00

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 11, 2009, Plattsmouth, Neb: Bill Babbitt, 79, says he saw it all coming, the economic downfall that is. "I saw this happening five years ago, the mortgage situation, the credit card debt going crazy. I sold everything. I sold both houses, one in Arizona and one here in Plattsmouth. I sold this building. I'm glad I got out when I did," he said. He still works out of the building he once owned. "A friend of mine bought it." From this building he runs an antique store. His other business is housed in the building and sold on eBay. "I sell car parts, license plates and toys," he said as he showed a stack of sales receipts from just the last week. Most of his sales are under $100 but he claims he made $93,000 last year from doing business on the web.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 9, 2009, Barada, Neb: "I'm ornery and cantankerous," Mary Howard, 83, hollered out, but always followed any comment like that with a either a big grin or a loud laugh. She loves drinking cherry Pepsi. She opens the store " when I get up," and she closes the store "when I go to bed," she said. In between those two events she sits in her wheelchair and waits for customers from the Barada citizenry, a village with a population of 28, to show up. An old antique cash register sits off to the side. "Never user it" she popped off. "Didn't work." Mary keeps a notepad near her. When customers buy groceries, she writes it down in the notepad. "I keep a tab right here of everything they buy." About the Great Depression, she says people were most worried about what they would have to eat," she said.

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 9, 2009, Barada, Neb: Mary Howard has owned and operated Howard's Grocery for 43 years. She had a stroke two years ago and lost the use of her left arm and leg. She uses a wheelchair a majority of the time to get around and can still do some walking with the aid of walker. She still does all the work running the store. "Before I had the stroke, I used to have more shelves filled with groceries. The back shelf used to be full of candy," she said. Her determination to keep doing as much for herself as she can is strong. About the Great Recession, she says people are most worried about whether or not they'll have enough money."

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson

June 9, 2009, Barada, Neb: More than 43 years ago, Mary Howard moved away from the farm, took her kids and bought the grocery store in town. She left the farm behind because of a bad memory. Her oldest son, Terry, 16 at the time, was killed when the tractor he was driving tipped over. "All the other kids riding on it jumped clear of it but Terry didn't. It rolled and killed him."

Story and photo by Bruce Thorson/Assisted by Larry Kinkade

June 10, 2009, Barada, Neb: THE UNL PHOTO TEAM and MARY--Kyle Bruggeman (left), Clay Lomneth, Mary Howard, Bruce Thorson and Patrick Breen in front of Mary's store, Howard's Grocery, the store Mary has owned for 43 years.

Our team will be on the road for two months traveling across Nebraska to find out what life here is like in small towns, how people live, work and play and what Nebraskans think about the economic downturn.

Parking to job hunt

2009-06-09T21:07:00.000-07:00

June 9, 2009, Falls City, Neb: Gary Cummings is out of a job. Cummings, 62, was laid off from his job of 10 years working for Wasp, a manufacturer of luggage carts and dollies used by airport personnel to load bags into aircraft. He said he hopes economic times will improve and he'll be able to return to his job. He currently calls his car home. Both he and his car's automaker, Chrysler, have fallen hard times. Here, he spends time in his car reading the paper, mostly the classifieds, at Stanton Lake Park in Falls City. He said he gets most of his meals at Runza. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Update from the road: Falls City

2009-06-09T09:33:00.000-07:00

June 9th, 2009, Falls City, Neb: Baseball; Americas past time. A place where our nations youth learn teamwork and everyone can enjoy the thrill of competition. A sacred piece of land where generations share stories and communities unite.

It doesn't matter what state you travel to, or size of town you find, every community has a baseball diamond. Last night we found the baseball scene for Falls City. We talked to numerous people, and everybody was enjoying the slightly chilly evening.

Take for example Larry Doris, 66, whom I found sitting on the bleachers with his wife Weaver and their granddaughter Elizabeth, she happened to turn 4 the same day. Larry and Doris live on a farm, but they made time to come into town and enjoy a night under the lights.

As our journey continues, I have an inclination that we'll run into more friendly games and find familiar scenes of children playing in the grass off to the side and the adults cheering on their children from the stands. Perhaps next time I'll bring sunflower seeds to share. (photo by Kyle Bruggeman)

June 8, 2009 Fargo, Neb: I think I almost saw Bruce really mad for the first time yesterday.

Living in a trailer for two months with three other people is bound to grind on some nerves some of the time. Sure, we get along. We got lucky, we're all pretty easy-going. If one of us were to get a bit riffed, we don't have anywhere to get our own space, besides maybe the bathroom or the rest of the campground.

This time, we were outside the camper with nowhere but farmland to escape to, when Bruce and I were driving back to Fargo so I could grab some audio of Arlene Miller. Here's the kicker: Bruce had to follow directions based of what I remembered. Here's what I remembered: little to nothing.

Bruce went from a jovial mood, joking about getting lost to stone silence when he realized we were about a quarter way down a road he described as "driving on soft ice cream."

We eventually found our way to Fargo Hill, no worse for the wear, except for maybe Bruce's car, a little bit muddier than it was before. "You're washing my car," Bruce told me. It's raining right now, so I'm hoping he forgets.

Arlene is the last of her family of eight brothers and sisters. Most of them left the state, one going as far away as Alaska. She moved to Fargo after she married her husband Fred at the age of 16. I asked her what she likes about living in Fargo.

"Oh, I love it," she said. Her voice got distant and quiet. "I love it. I love it. Well, I'll say I enjoy it, put it that way...been a long time."

For a time, Arlene was the sole resident of Fargo, until her nephew Vernon and his wife moved in. Before that, the last resident in Fargo were Vernon's parents. Their house still stands across the street, leaning to one side and mostly taken back by nature.

"[It was] kind of scary." she said. "I ain't scared at night, but I was scared for storms and snow."

She didn't have much to say about the recession now, and said she couldn't remember much about the Great Depression, but she's noticed a difference in how kids are being raised today versus what it was like growing up in her time. "Kids nowadays don't want for nothing," she said. "Anything they want they get. I don't think that's right."

When she was growing up, all eight kids in the family had to work to help their parents, which made it easier to put food on the table. "It's harder today," Arlene said. "I don't know how some families make it. The price of food, I just don't know how some families make it."

When she was growing up, her family raised everything. Arlene remembered making her own cottage cheese and butter in her basement. "Lot easier way to raise a family," she said.

"Do you think if we still did stuff like that we wouldn't be in the problem we-" I began to say.

"Oh yeah," Arlene interrupted. "and the same way for people buying new cars. My son's got a Bronco he's had for 30-some years, and he's still driving it. He said he don't believe in people buying these new pickups and tearing them up like they do on roads."

My mind went back to Bruce's Suburban and how we almost went off-roading into Arlene's backyard. All of us could learn to live a bit more like her, especially if her prediction comes true.

"It's going to get tougher, I will say that. For the people that have worked and saved their money and lost it. It's going to get worse." (photo by Clay Lomneth)

June 8, 2009, Falls City, Neb: Mike Pagnano leans back into the second-hand recliner at the newly opened A to Z store in Falls City, Nebraska. One of the store owners laughs as Pagnano leans back and puts the cap over his eyes, saying he might just stay the rest of the day.

"I think its a good time to open a second hand shop in Falls City," Jo Ann Studie said. "A lot more people are looking for cheaper stuff." Studie said the economy was now just starting to affect the city, with a population above 4,000. She said people were saving more money and looking for better deals. "I think the people (here) are all really nice," Studie said.

Studie isn't worried about opening a store during the rough economy. As confident as her words were, they could not match the stride or look in her eye. It was the first day of open business and they saw a bed, and $100 worth of items fly out the door. She leans back to one of her helpers for the day, "I need more change," she says. A staff member chuckles and takes one of the $50 bills out the door. (photo by Patrick Breen)

June 8, 2009, Falls City, Neb: As the sun fades over the horizon, Tyler Ansel pushes his bike up against the fence at the baseball fields to peer down on a game. Only a few blocks away and a few hours earlier was the town experiencing another business day. Most of the business traveled in trucks, many as far away as southern Kanas.

"The economy has affected us," the man rolling a 200-pound tire said, "It affects peoples choices. (They) don't buy the nicer stuff, but there is always work to do." And that was apparent.

As I walked into "Harmon's OK Tire" I saw two customers waiting to be helped and a busy manager rushing from one to the other. I couldn't imagine a tire business being this busy.

A medium-sized man with a grey beard, and a big smile pulled me to the side and said something along the lines of what can I do for ya? It was a small-town accent with a smile I have become all to accustomed to on this trip.

Larry West, a Harmon's OK Tire employee for 31 years began doing his work. Pulling aside the smaller tires, he rolled one of what he described as a medium sized tire. "We are always busy," he said.

West, whose wife has worked as a secretary for the business for 34 years, began loading another tire that would go on the front of a "smaller tractor." As I watched him load the 4-foot tires into the back of his truck, I wondered how the economy was affecting him, a mid-level employee at a Falls City tire store.

"Ain't bad," he said with a smile. A few minutes later, he was on his way down to Kanas to load the tires. Even with an automobile industry on its knees, a small town tire company is keeping busy. (photo by Patrick Breen)

June 8, 2009, Falls City, Neb: Lisa Kopf (left) and Hannah Milam, both 16 and both juniors at Falls City High School, said they really hadn't noticed any effects in their lives from the recession. Kopf did mention she knew of a person who worked at a vet clinic and this person's hours were cut from full-time to working two days a week. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Just another rainy Sunday...and Tuesday, too

2009-06-07T21:29:00.000-07:00

This photograph of our trailer, with students inside working, I made Saturday evening. It is raining now, Tuesday, June 9, 2009, and has been raining every night since June 5. Our plans today are to go to a community north of here, Barada, about 15 miles. We've made a few contacts there and will see what we get--Bruce Thorson

Patrick Breen (left), Kyle Bruggeman, Clay Lomneth and myself, Bruce Thorson, spent Sunday evening, June 7, 2009 inside the travel trailer as severe lightning, thunder and a pouring rainstorm pass through the Falls City area. A city police officer arrived, for the second time today, to warn us of a tornado watch, this time until 5 a.m. Monday. For the last three nights lightning, thunder and heavy rains have dominated much of the evening and early morning. The trailer has been dry. And that is a beautiful thing. Since leaving Lincoln on Wednesday, June 3, heading to Omaha for two days, traveling south on Hwy 75 down through Plattsmouth, Nebraska City, Auburn and Falls City, with a few other stops in-between, we've been treated with Nebraskan hospitality--warm, friendly and kind.--Bruce Thorson

Update from the road: Falls City

2009-06-07T14:26:00.001-07:00

June 7, 2009 Fargo, Neb: Today I saw the population of a town double before my eyes.

We spent the first half of the morning shooting photographs at a church just outside of Falls City. I had talked to the pastor a bit before mass and he mentioned he and his wife were planning on heading to Fargo after the service.

"North Dakota?" my professor Bruce asked when I told him what I planned to do. I looked at him for a second, sometimes I can't tell when he's joking and when he's being serious. This time he was joking.

Fargo is a town of, according to the homemade sign on the way into town, three people, three dogs and 20 cats. I can't vouch for the accuracy of the numbers (I later found out there were errors in the cat census) but I did meet the towns' three residents.

One of them was Arlene Miller, 84 year old resident of the area. As I was walking across the street to her house, the population of the town jumped up once more from six to nine (plus one more dog). Two of Arlene's nieces (and a family friend) who had never met her pulled up in their car from as far away as Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Sisters Connie and Carol had somehow found Fargo, Nebraska based on childhood memories, stories their mother told them and a little bit of help from the Internet.

It was a family reunion. Arlene's nephew from across the street came over to meet his cousins and show them an old photograph of Fargo. One of the sisters pointed to a building in the picture. "So this was the motel?" she asked. The residents of Fargo had a good laugh. "You could call it that," their cousin said, winking at me.

Apparently, Fargo was a bustling town of anywhere from 1,100 to 2,000, depending on which of the three current residents you ask. Steamboats came down the river right by Fargo, and the town based its economy off that and farming. Soon enough, the appeal of steamboats died down, and to add insult to injury, the river changed direction and moved a mile away from Fargo. People moved with the river or into Falls City. A few years ago, it was just Arlene in the town, until her nephew, the county sheriff, and his wife moved into a trailer across the dirt road.

Even when she was living alone, Arlene insisted she was fine. "I'm not scared of anything," she said, not even trying to contain the giant smile plastered across her face. These were the most visitors she'd seen in a while, and she loves visitors.

Connie and Carol, on the other hand, were practically in shock. Hearing stories from their mother, especially toward the end of her life, they were amazed to see that everything she had described was right there in front of them. Connie looked at her sister. "I thought mom made a lot of this stuff up." (photo by Clay Lomneth)

June 6th, 2009, Falls City, Neb: Someone once told me the best part about Nebraska is that everybody looks after each other. After speaking with the last two dozen people I've met, I can see that such a statement is true. With Falls City's population just over 4,000; it is easy to assume that everybody knows eachother. Because of this, they also know what everyone is doing from day to day.

Take Charles Loghry, 72, for example. Almost every day he walks through the town square of Falls City and watches the traffic go by. I caught up with him on one of his walks and within five minutes three cars drove by, each one yelling out "Hey Charlie!" Loghry is just one example of how living in a small town can give someone the familiarity that only a mayor might have in a large city. (Photo by Kyle Bruggeman)

June 6, 2009, Auburn Neb: As he picks up sticks from around his yard, and tears old Pizza Hut boxes into small flammable charcoal, his one year old dog, 'Smokey Joe' scampers mischievously around the yard of twelve inch tall grass. "I haven't mowed," Jeff Minner said. "[I'm] Trying to save the gas."

For about four months now, Minner and his wife have been living off her Managerial job at the Pizza Hut a few blocks away.

Very blatantly, and without a slight hint of resentment, he says,"Was laid off."

For quite a few years now, Minner has been laying brick and building houses with a local construction company. "It was a good job," Minner said. "[It] kept me busy."

But with the housing market in a lull and very few new construction projects being started locally, Minner and others were sent away.

Minner said he was paying a lot of attention to the economy, especially the rising gas prices. "Up 19 cents since I last filled up," Minner said. "Usually, I would go to a place like New Orleans or (places) in need of construction workers," Minner said. "I've done it before."

This year is different. He is approaching a year anniversary with his wife and kids whom all live close to him in Nebraska City. His oldest son will be starting for the Nebraska City High football team.

Minner said he wants to see him play, but if the price of gas keeps going up, he won't be able to stay. The thought of which makes Minner sad: "I don't want to leave," he said, "but who knows." (Photo by Patrick Breen)

June 6, 2009 Auburn, Neb: Omaha is not a bad place to live. It's no Kansas City or Chicago or Milwaukee, the Paris, London and Berlin of the Midwest. But it's not a bad place to live, if I do say so myself. I'm proud to be from a place large enough to have a three second spot in Michael Clayton but small enough you can accidentally run into someone you know every week.

To be honest, I never saw myself ever wanting to live in a small town. That is until we passed through Auburn. Small towns are great. There is this stereotype that everyone from a small town is jovial and helpful and always willing to let you into their homes. For all we know, residents of Auburn could turn into Los Angeles drivers once tourists are done passing through, but probably not.

Once I was done being swarmed by twenty-plus children asking me to take their photograph, I began to settle into a groove and they started to ignore the stranger with a camera. I just started to think about moving to the water slide at the pool when a commotion came from the diving board.

Someone had decided to try jumping off the high dive for the very first time, but seemed to have changed his mind once he glanced at how far down the water really was.

The high dive is a major turning point in any child's life. It's a start of something that will re-emerge later in the teen years: getting as much distance from mom and dad's rules as possible, which most people will see as doing stupid things for the sake of doing stupid things.

All in all, the high dive is a good place to start. The worst that can happen is you get some water up your nose, maybe a red stomach for the rest of the day from a belly-flop.

Everyone at the pool surrounded the deep end to see how this would pan out. Some of the younger children made wild claims, saying they would have jumped by then, and the first time they jumped off the diving board they were not afraid at all. Some of the older teen guys poked each other, saying "Someone should go up there and throw him in," laughing at the same joke every time. The girls had the opposite reaction, one even offered to climb up there herself and help the boy down.

The boy's mother showed up and started a chant, and within seconds the whole pool was yelling Bradley's name. This would only stop when he peered over the side of the board and it looked like he might jump. This continued for about 10 minutes, before the one lifeguard who seemed to be trained in hostage negotiation just climbed up the high dive and helped poor Bradley down.

I started walking back, in awe over how perfect this town was for a photographer, and I stumbled across Bradley's mother, Amanda, a portrait photographer in town. She said her family has cut back a bit, but overall, they've been doing fine. She has noticed a little bit of a change while shooting weddings, but she manages. "I have to find other ways to make money," she said.

Amanda has lived in Auburn all her life. When I asked how it had changed, I expected an answer about how it used to be two cities, about how new restaurants have come in and some have closed down, but her answer surprised me. She laughed. "Auburn's the same as it's always been," she said. "It really is."

I asked her what she liked about Auburn, what's kept her here all these years. Things are simple in small towns, she said. As busy as she gets, there's always time for her family. "Things center around family." I looked down at Bradley, who was the center of everybody's attention not five minutes ago, happily munching on an ice cream bar his mom had bought to either help him get over his traumatic high dive experience or reward him for his bravery. I suspected the latter.

"Hey Bradley," I called out as he and his mom left the pool. Winking at him, I said "You get that diving board next time." (photo by Clay Lomneth)

Rib chef

2009-06-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

June 6, 2009, Auburn, Neb: Keegan Pope, 10, of Syracuse, Neb., pauses while he holds his dad's first place trophy for best ribs at 2nd annual Blues, Bikes and B-B-Q. Keegan is himself an accomplished rib cooker. He took fourth place. His dad, Ben Pope, a life-long Nebraskan, thinks Nebraska is a happy state during this economy because "life here is slow, relaxed," he said. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Cutting prices

2009-06-06T21:13:00.000-07:00

June 6, 2009, Auburn, Neb: LaVerne Epperson waits at the backdoor as her grandson, Jesse Snyder, 36, puts the ladder away after putting a new roof on his grandmother's home. Snyder, a carpenter and mechanic by trade, says he needs to stay busy to keep working. "I've had to cut prices to keep business," he said. While he's working about the same now as last year, he's had to drop the prices on his jobs to keep busy. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Disposal margaritas

2009-06-06T21:12:00.000-07:00

June 6, 2009, Auburn, Neb: Dan Emshoff, 40, whips up the margarita mix using a custom cooler mounted atop a garbage disposal during the 2nd annual Blues, Bikes and B-B-Q held in back of his restaurant. Emshoff became owner of the Hickory Road B-B-Q on a whim.

While looking for a house to buy in Auburn, his wife noticed the bar/restaurant for sale and told him he should buy it. He called the realtor and 15 minutes later the deal was done, minus the necessary paperwork.

A native Nebraskan, Emshoff says his business is better now than last year. "I'm up about 15 percent," he said. As for the economy, however, he says the news is depressing. As a result, about two months ago he stopped watching news on TV. "I now get my local news off the radio," he said. (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

Update From the Road

2009-06-06T10:41:00.000-07:00

June 5, 2009, Nebraska City, Neb: Because of Nebraska's new smoking ban, Randy Powell, 76, on a warm, dry, sunny afternoon, has to go outside a local bar to have a cigarette. Powell, a retired Lincoln Public Schools employee, his furrowed brow and wrinkled face deepened with thought as he reflected on today's economy and compared it to the 1960s and 1970s when he was actively working, actively borrowing money.

"I'm more scared today because I don't know now how it will turn out," he said, his cheeks pulled in, as he sucked down another drag from his smoke. He thinks it was easier to borrow money back then. "The kids today have it too easy. They already have too much money," he said with a slight hint of disgust in his voice. Powell believes most folks have gotten themselves into trouble by borrowing more than they should.

He lives on $1700 a month, a combination of his school pension and social security income. He lives by himself in a three-bedroom house. Until four years ago when his wife died, they shared a 44-year marriage. He has no children, but the former Army vet has a reputation. "I'm known all over town from my work with the American Legion, the VFW. They all know me," he said with a smile. As for his future, he paused and said with a little optimism, "At my age you think more about just living." (Photo by Bruce Thorson)

June 5th, 2009, Nebraska City, Neb: There's something I've always loved about the river. As soon as I learned to drive, I would sometimes go out by myself and explore downtown Omaha, and ultimately end up by the river.

I worked downtown for a few summers, and sure enough, during my lunch break, I'd drive down there and watch the water. Despite my fascination with the Muddy Missouri, I had never been on a boat in the river until yesterday.

Rick and Christy Kuhlmann from Nebraska City, along with their friend Shelley Pinney invited me to jump on, and of course I said yes. Cruising upriver, I had the same sort of feeling I get when I'm in a convertible; I wish I had long hair, down to my waist for a day, or at least didn't cut mine so short for the summer.

In the half dozen boats we flew by, Rick and Christy knew everyone, perhaps too well. After we had sped past one boat and I had popped off a couple frames, Christy turned to me. "You're lucky she had her top on," she said, pointing to the boat we had just left in our wake.

It's a community of sorts, Rick said. They meet up with people upriver, tie their boats together, and then float down until they feel like stopping.

Rick said he thinks Nebraska City has a better boating scene than Omaha. There, it's too crowded for his liking.

The recession hasn't really slowed the boaters down at all. Rick told me some of them were hurting last year, so they set up sort of a boat-pooling system. One week Rick and Christy would have friends on their boat, the next week they'd go on their friends' boat, and so on. This year, however, they're back to their old routine. (Photo by Clay Lomneth)

June 3rd, 2009, Florence Neb: As corporations continue their layoffs and local governments look to re-organize, the simple things in life still flourish. After traveling to a few camp sites, to set up our trailer, I've noticed that the amount of people spending their time recreationally does not seem to be dwindling. People are still willing to spend money on leisure, instead of stuffing it in their bed mattress.

A day of fishing breaks the monotony for Mariah Francis, 16, and her sister Emily, 8. With a live worm and a little luck they hope to catch their first fish. "It's a cheap way to spend your day" says Mariah as she casts out her worm to the middle of the cove. As the lake winds around through bends and channels, people scatter along the shore hoping to find their own part in the good life. (Photo by Kyle Bruggeman)

June 3rd, 2009, Florence, Neb: A Nebraska Family

I walked down to the lake-side and was greeted with a warm, "What do you want?" The type of question which warranted a very nervous introduction.

The tall man with a beard and a ponytail chuckled. "Just kiddin'".

His name is Jared Carnes.

Jared Carnes has a typical American family. He didn’t know his father. And hardly new his mother, but today, at the self-proclaimed youthful age of 38, he sits with his girlfriend. She has two adopted children, both kids fishing at the lake in NP Dodge Park in Florence, Ne.

Carnes considers the children his own, and treats them that way. The family, all with different last names ranging from Carnes to Hutchinson to Sawyer, puts some worms on their hooks and casts out into the still water.

It was getting late, the sun just passing the point in the sky where it would paint the whole area a soft orange. The grass was a pleasant green and the air was warm with a smell of Carnes cigarette smoke.

This place felt a thousand miles away from the bustling city and the shrinking economy. It was a peace with itself.

Carnes and his family said they were not too affected by the economic downturn, but fishing was an easy way to spend an afternoon.

"(We are) Not going to pay $15 dollars to see a movie," Carnes said.

The sentiment was shared by most of the people we met in these first few days.

A Plattsmouth bookstore owner told me, that he wasn’t selling many books. But he followed it with a hearty laugh.

"Wasn't before though either," James Ball said.

So far, through Nebraska City, Plattsmouth and Florence, we have seen many faces, heard many stories, and seem to be learning why Nebraska is "The Happiest State in the Union."(Photo by Patrick Breen)

Camper work

2009-06-04T21:55:00.000-07:00

Patrick Breen (left), Kyle Bruggeman and Clay Lomneth spent Thursday evening, June 4, 2009 working inside the camper at the N.P. Dodge Park in Omaha, Neb. The 23-foot travel trailer will be home for them and Bruce Thorson, associate professor at the UNL College of Journalism and Mass Communications. They will spend the next two months traveling across Nebraska pursuing a photo documentary about life during the recession. In addition, they will explore why Nebraska is the "happiest state in the union," according to previous published reports.

Using a broadband router, creating a "mobile hotspot," they can all be connected to the Internet from just about anywhere in Nebraska. While the team is in its second day, they are all adjusting well to life in a travel trailer, shooting pictures, downloading and editing the files and then uploading to the web.

Patrick Breen noted that life in a travel trailer is "pretty fun, especially now with the internet connection."

UNL photojournalists travel Nebraska

2009-06-04T21:06:00.000-07:00

"Migrant Mother," a photograph by Dorothea Lange that showed a mother struggling to survive with her three children in a lean-to in a migrant camp, became the iconic picture that symbolized the Great Depression in the 1930s. Today, our nation's economy has fallen to a historic level not seen since that traumatic period. Financial and housing markets and automakers have crumbled; unemployment has soared. This national recession has touched every American, including those who live in Nebraska.

The objective of this project is to produce photographs, audio slideshows and video that document how this economic upheaval has affected Nebraskans. We currently are traveling across Nebraska living and working out of a travel trailer. We have plans to touch on areas such as housing, ethanol, banking, ranching, farming, small towns, river towns and anywhere else our search leads us. This project is not about sad stories. Nebraska is being touted in the press as the happiest state in the union. We want to find out why. Here you will begin to find these stories. Thanks for visiting.

Photo above: Patrick Breen (left), Kyle Bruggeman, Bruce Thorson, and Clay Lomneth at the N.P. Dodge Park, at the Missouri River, Omaha, Neb., June 3, 2009.

unl photojournalism

Czech fest

Deere souped

A perfect day

Burning grasses

Two rivers and a canal

Capone's mirror

Here's your sign

Harvest in Rushville

Beyond riches

Gettin' tanked!

Gordon, NE

The view from my front door

Sandoz Ranch

Air Ranching

Auctioned off

Sloooooowwww internet...

You gotta know Jack!!!

The Soesters

Rolling-hills roundup

Vanishing breed

Alliance: Carhenge

Alliance faces

I am a lineman for the college

A night at the drive-in

Full throttle: Motocycles, dragsters and model airplanes

Tony

Foreclosure

Mail rider

Trail City, U.S.A.

Chimney Rock views

Bridgeport: Rodeo up!

A day below the dam

Venango: Buckle of the wheat belt

Life over water

Serving up good coffee and fast cars

Stu

Lightning over Enders Lake

Still vacationing

Small farming

Lovin' life

Employed, unemployed and cream can

Room to feed

Pin-up girls

Update from the road: Arapahoe

Laugh and be resilient

A trainers life

Aurora Co-op

Carleton

Skimming by

Musings...corn, fogging and bird strike!!!

All in the family...and a friend, too

Pitch men

Larry Bartels

A brief history of Alfred Lisec

Update from the Road: Swanton

Life-changing day, part I

Life-changing day, part II

More stories from DeWitt

Update from the Road: DeWitt

The life and times of Harriet Peterson Fort

Update from the road: Dorchester

Update from the road: Dorchester

Update from the road: Dorchester

Plattsmouth, Barada and the team...

Parking to job hunt

Update from the road: Falls City

Just another rainy Sunday...and Tuesday, too

Update from the road: Falls City

Rib chef

Cutting prices

Disposal margaritas

Update From the Road

Camper work

UNL photojournalists travel Nebraska