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Sometimes things that my common sense should tell me are coincidences seem more like a quick trip through The Twilight Zone. Lately these mini-trips have involved replacement of the Kansas statues in the Statuary Hall in Washington, DC. For years, both the Kansas statues were Atchison residents.

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There’s a hall in Washington, D.C., where each of the United States has two statues honoring its heritage. For decades, both the Kansas statues were Atchison residents who were prominent in the history of the state and nation.

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In an unusual frenzy of cutting down on the stacks of paper I’ve accumulated since first joining the staff of Atchison Daily Globe in 1960, I once ran across some gems with which I could not part.

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Following a sort of summer vacation from writing, I’m back at the keyboard, opinions and all. And feeling pretty darned good.

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My Grinchness is in full swing again, and I’m to the place where if I hear “Yes, Virginia” or “It’s a Great Life” one more time, I’ll go into spit-up mode.

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The older I get, the grumpier I get. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve reached the age where I can’t get much crabbier. But I keep trying.

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Following are 1945 words of the son of a Nebraska farmer, a young man who served in the World War II Pacific Theater of Operations, with a bombing crew that flew many missions over Tokyo, capital of the Empire of Japan.