The bright orange/red sun slowly sinks in the west reflecting off the glistening snow, while overhead the bright twinkling stars began showing themselves one by one in the wintry sky treating the waiting spectators to an awesome end to the crisp wintry day.
The gathering group of young people are patiently waiting for Kelly Kloppenborg of Emmet, Nebraska, and the Kloppenborg Christmas Express to appear. Kelly soon appears leading his harnessed team of draft horses, nineteen year old Hank that he raised from a colt. Hank is a Clydesdale bay gelding, and his team mate, seventeen-year-old Jewels, a black Percheron mare. By: Marita Placek Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081
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People across the nation, acquainted with western history, recognize the names of Jesse James, Billy the Kid and Butch Cassidy as notorious outlaws. However, most people in our country, even residents of Nebraska, have not heard the name, history and stories of Doc Middleton.
According to Harold Hutton’s book, Doc Middleton, James M. was born February 9, 1851, in Texas, the third child of Mary Cherry. James’s paternal heritage is in question. Eighteen months later, Mary Cherry married J. B. Riley. Mr. Riley accepted and raised Mary’s three children as his own. By: Marci Broyhell Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081 Driving down any highway in the summertime, you might see men and women in bright orange vests along the roadside peering through instruments mounted on top of tall tripods. These are modern-day surveyors laying out plans for road improvement. They use accurate satellite-guided global positioning services or G.P.S. to layout latitude and longitude to determine exact measurements. At the end of their day, they climb back into an air-conditioned vehicle and go to the comfort of their homes to have dinner and relax. It was not always that way. The early surveyors, those who platted out the boundaries for the states, railroads, towns, and farms of this nation had a much more difficult task.
By: Brad Kellogg Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081 When Joe Skrivan, a Navy veteran, decided he wanted a place in his hometown of Bloomfield, Ne, to honor all veterans who have served, he set his ideas in stone. Literally, in granite.
The black, granite walls- with the names of approximately 1,450 veterans from the Bloomfield district etched in them- would be emplaced in a circular pattern, waiting for the walls to be erected. The stone walls would encompass the statue that faces them, that of a kneeling soldier. This was the vision in his mind’s eye. By Garriann Edholm, Tammy Schindler & Mathew Baker Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081 Cornering the bison on a bluff overlooking the creek below, hunters gather, driving the animals closer and closer to the edge, forcing the giant creatures over. Racing to the valley’s floor, the men soon find their hunt was successful. Women arrive, taking out their tools, many made from the very animals from which they’re about to remove the hide, as well as meat and vital organs, to be used as part of their daily lives.
Life along the Firesteel Creek in present-day Mitchell was home to a tribe of prehistoric Indians, who made their way to the plains of South Dakota, likely from an area near St. Louis. Seventy to ninety earth lodges occupied the land near the creek’s banks. By: Tim Trudell Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081 One of South Dakota’s greatest visual artists didn’t consider himself to be an “artist” at all. Rather, Manchester, South Dakota native Harvey Dunn—like other masters of the Golden Age of Illustration, such as Howard Pyle and Norman Rockwell—dubbed himself a “mere” illustrator. But as is the case with those other masters, Dunn’s works reveal that however his profession might best be described, the fruits of his labor capture, with a breathtaking and moving lucidity, the subjects of his works. And in Dunn’s case, all of his work—from paintings of prairie scenes, to drawings of doughboys in World War I, to the school he created—is etched, often literally and always metaphorically, with his deep, lifelong ties to South Dakota.
By: Lindsay Hindman Read the entire story in the latest edition of Living Here magazine. Order yours today! 888-673-1081 |