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The New American Digest

For Followers of Gerard Van der Leun's Fine Work

  • About American Digest
  • About New American Digest
  • “The Name In The Stone”
  • Remembering Gerard Van der Leun
    • from the website: Through the Looking Glass
    • from the website: Barnhardt
    • from the website: Neo’s Blog
  • Articles
    • The Overland Stage
      • The Holladay Overland Stage: 1 – The Central Route
      • The Overland Stage – 2 Company Operations
      • The Overland Stage – 3 Exploring The Route – An Overview
      • The Overland Stage: 4 – South Platte/Julesburg/Ft Sedgwick
        • Jack Slade
      • The Overland Stage: 5 – Julesburg to Junction Station (aka Ft Morgan)
      • The Overland Stage: 6 – Junction Station to Latham
      • The Overland Stage: 7 – Latham Crossing to Fort Collins
      • The Overland Stage: 8 – LaPorte to Virginia Dale
      • The Overland Stage: 9 – Virginia Dale to Cooper Creek
      • The Overland Stage: 10 – Cooper Creek to Pass Creek
        • Fletcher Family
      • The Overland Stage: 11 – Pass Creek to Bridger Station
      • The Overland Stage: 12 – Bridger Pass to Duck Lake
      • The Overland Stage: 13 – Duck Lake to LaClede
      • The Overland Stage: 14 – LaClede to Almond
      • The Overland Stage: 15 – Almond to Rock Springs
      • The Overland Stage: 16 – Rock Springs to Fort Bridger
      • The Overland Stage: 17 – Fort Bridger to Weber Station

I find I don’t wish to explore new lands, but to explore again those I have already passed through, trying to see what I’d missed in the first hectic rush … Gerard Van der Leun

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Not A Popular Opinion

The New American Digest Posted on June 16, 2025 by DTJune 16, 2025

Enough’s enough. They’ve been playing “Don’t touch me” back and forth for decades.
Block ’em off, seal ’em up, and let ’em go at it.
Thunderdome: Two enter, one leaves.

That is all.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Replies

Do We Really Miss The 70s?

The New American Digest Posted on June 16, 2025 by DTJune 15, 2025
Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Replies

Father’s Day

The New American Digest Posted on June 15, 2025 by DTJune 15, 2025

so I posted it anyway … hope y’all don’t mind me wasting your time with this blather. Good thing you’re all friends …

I wrote this last night with the intent to post it. Then I decided not to. Then I decided to – I scheduled and unscheduled it twice – then I decided I was going to let it pass by … but my mind kept churning over the topic. Why should I bother y’all with my past, eh?

Gerard told personal stories and this blog is an attempt to follow his footsteps … even if my path is/was quite different than his. Besides, I’m told I need to open up more, being the misanthropic curmudgeon I seem to be.

So – here it is, late.

Dad married rich. Dad was not raised poor – well, maybe – but was raised by a hillbilly farm boy that got educated enough to become a rural school superintendent. Lower middle class perhaps? Upper lower class? Though back then – depression era – I don’t know that today’s labels can be applied to those days.

Dad became a success himself but he’s always been a “people-person”. I did not inherit that characteristic from him.

Man, that man can make friends … and talk? If I had had that ability …

Mom was raised lower upper class. Middle upper-class? Grandad was raised a farm boy, got away from the farm when he was able, and became a prominent – and wealthy – cardiologist in his day. I saw his account books after he died. Hard to equate then to now but I figure he was worth over $50M in today’s dollars at his peak. For various reasons, not anything near that came down to me. Chop off about 6 zeroes. No regrets; no feeling of entitlement. It wasn’t mine anyway. Mom was raised in a neighborhood such that she babysat Mittney when he was not much more than newborn. His daddy was “Uncle George” to Mom. That didn’t pass along either.

None of that applied when I was a child. Maybe because she married “beneath” her and the crowd she was raised with no longer associated with her? I never got the feeling that she felt that way though. There’s a lot we never got the chance to talk about.

First loves in college. Dad a few years older; too young by not much for WWII. Made him draft fodder for Korea. Then OCS. He was a forward artillery observer; doesn’t talk much about it. Mom still too young, too naive, too sheltered for marriage in many ways from what I gather. They got married anyway – I was conceived in Lawton; dates work out – it wasn’t “we had to”. Mama wanted “a piece of Dad” in case he didn’t come back.

But he did.

I got the idea he didn’t know at first. He was in a combat zone when he found out.
So I was half-planned. I’ve been half-something all my life 🙂

The military changes a man, especially those deployed to war zones – not that I know from personal experience but I do know what I’ve observed from friends that did have that adventure in life.

Social status differences also come to bear. Mom’s parents were Scottish-cold to begin with; colder yet to the parents of the boy not good enough for their daughter. Dad’s parents both of Scottish Appalachian folk; much friendlier though, family been in the hills for over 150 years. The in-laws lived far apart so it wasn’t an apparent problem as a child. Became more aware of the differences as I grew older though. Sometimes we’d visit grandparents #1, sometimes grandparents #2. I have fond memories of both; wish I could talk to them now. Questions I have now that I hadn’t even considered when I had the chance. As it goes in life.

But Daddy, being an army officer just back from the war, having a child he didn’t expect ahead of time, and realizing the marriage was a mistake … did what he could to keep the marriage together. But did apply army discipline to too many young children when he got frustrated. One didn’t get divorced in those days, especially one raised in a hillbilly church. Mom was a casual Presbyterian from a hoity-toity church full of the “right” people. “Love your enemy as yourself” as long as they go to the same church.

What must it be like: two weeks ago in combat, now home with wife, child, and no job?
Your first true love just got home and he’s not the person you married anymore but you have a babe in your arms and don’t know what to do.

So they piled into the car for a honeymoon of sorts and along with a screaming bundle of joy, travel from Michigan to Florida – by car – to go to Marineland – as it was in the early 50s. What a pleasant trip that must have been. I know it happened, they took home movies. I’m told that’s me.

I learned to approve of divorce. I was somewhere around 10 when I became consciously aware of the problems and perhaps was one of the reasons I never had children. Which is a different story, already written and may be told someday.

Or not.

I am the oldest. Gives a different viewpoint, especially compared to the views of the youngest – pushing near-on 10 years younger.

I left home for a distant college. I’ll give dad credit – or something – he stayed until the youngest was 18.

But I was long gone by then – distance and time. Seems I may have missed the worst of it.

Side story: I came home once when I was 23 and stayed out late. Dad was a bit pissed; told me next time I was out late to call. Now keep in mind dad usually was in bed by 9:30 and I didn’t live at home anymore … but I now understand his fear. In any case – truly cross-my-heart – I got caught up in something unexpected not long after – last minute had to take a friend to the airport; so I called home … at about 2:30AM. It’s hard to be pissed at something you requested be done but he overcame that barrier.

‘Nother side story: I was 9 or 10 and liked playing with electronics; vacuum tubes in those days. No computers. High voltages. Dad drove me to the next town over and bought me my first Heathkit – my very own “VTVM” (vacuum tube voltmeter). I was in 7th heaven.
My memories are not all bad by any means.

Dad eventually remarried; Mom never did. Blamed Dad the rest of her life, caused the younger siblings to feel the same. As I said, I was the oldest and saw things the others weren’t aware of – and didn’t see later things the younger ones lived through. Sometimes – maybe most of the time – both parties share the blame for a failed marriage; Mom wasn’t blameless. But heartbreak played at least a part in her demise …

But this is Father’s Day.

Dad got remarried and turned into a different person. Our relationship was quite bent when I was in my mid/late teens but never truly broke. While I’m not overly fond of my “step-mother” (that term isn’t appropriate, I was in my 30s when they got married), but she tries. I have to give her credit – that man she married is not the person that raised me.

We get along fine now. Several things we have in common. I see him once a year – he’s a couple thousand miles away. He’s 97 now and still healthy, even for a 97yo – and I don’t look forward to the day “the call” comes.

So happy Father’s Day Pop – even though you’ll never see this.
And it’s getting on time for that yearly trip.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Replies

But People WANT To Believe

The New American Digest Posted on June 15, 2025 by DTJune 15, 2025

and if they want to believe, truth isn’t going to get in the way.

“UFO cover used by government to ‘hide a lot of things,’ former NASA agent says“

To accept the idea of visitors from other solar systems is to disbelieve the basis of physics as we know and practice it.

Sure the government hints at the existence of “UFOs” … and I’ve no doubt UFOs exist – UFO being an acronym for “Unidentified Flying Object“

“Hey! What’s that flying around up there?” “I don’t know” … is a UFO.
Even if it’s actually your neighbor’s kid playing with a drone.

One good region to see UFOs is between Tonopah, Nevada and Edwards AFB … the valleys along Death Valley. Lots of strange unidentified stuff buzzing around through there.

Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune, et al are all science fiction.
If you see a UFO, someone somewhere – Peking, Moscow, DC – already knows about it. And they’re from Planet Earth.

Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Replies

I Love My Wife But …

The New American Digest Posted on June 15, 2025 by DTJune 14, 2025

Can’t forget the sudden need to go potty just as we pass the rest area.

Posted in Uncategorized | 13 Replies

Deep Thoughts

The New American Digest Posted on June 14, 2025 by DTJune 13, 2025

I don’t really have any at the moment – at least none I can put into a coherent ramble.

It is Flag Day however – and Trump’s birthday, and the Army’s birthday.

And “Arrest Your Favorite Protestor Day” if the all the speculation of NoKings proves true. Even in a little town with a population of 5000 not far from here …

To say nothing of what may happen in the Middle East between the time I write this and the time you read it.

Possible Canadian, 1930:
A man in a crowded bar needed to defecate but couldn’t find a bathroom, so he went upstairs and used a hole in the floor. Returning, he found everyone had gone except the bartender, who was cowering behind the bar. When the man asked what had happened, the bartender replied, ‘Where were you when the shit hit the fan?’

“Travelling between Tehran and Tel Aviv …”

Posted in Uncategorized | 16 Replies

and you say you’re not a fan of poetry ? ..humph.

The New American Digest Posted on June 14, 2025 by ghostsniperJune 13, 2025

From a selection of comments

“I doubt anyone has read less poetry than me.
Like jazz, I just don’t get it.
Both seem to be exercises in how to make something simple, complex for no reason at all.
“

Maybe not reading it – but …

Tear it open let it bleed
Scream the truth I can’t concede
Burn the lies consume the ash
Rise again from the devil’s wrath

* * * * * * *

Rusted walls closing in too tight
Echoes scream in the dead of night
Cursed by the weight of what I’ve done
Falling deeper nowhere to run

* * * * * * *

Shadows creeping whisper my name
Chains of despair drag me deep
Underneath where no light can creep

* * * * * * *

He’s a poet … and doesn’t know it 🙂

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Replies

Mourning Dove

The New American Digest Posted on June 13, 2025 by DTJune 13, 2025
Posted in Uncategorized | 13 Replies

“Democracy”

The New American Digest Posted on June 12, 2025 by DTJune 12, 2025

“Newsom quickly condemned the move as a “blatant abuse of power” that puts the nation on a path to authoritarianism … California may be first, but it clearly won’t end here,” the governor said. “Other states are next. Democracy is next.”“

The Democrats are screaming the same old song about Trump destroying democracy.

Good. I hope he succeeds. It’s among the reasons I voted for him.

I get so tired of hearing that.

The US is not a democracy, it’s a constitutional republic. I believe it was Justice Scalia that reaffirmed that the Constitution is not a living document, it’s a legal contract. Democracy – particularly the Democrats version – needs to be flushed away along with the rest of the crap they continually spout off.

Franklin (maybe): “Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch“.
Our Constitution allows the lamb to be armed.

Foreign troops waving foreign flags on US soil? There’s an answer to that. Legal with long historical precedent. And it’s what the Marines do.

But I’m probably preaching to the choir with this group …

Two rants this week.
Rant: OFF

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Replies

Backcorners Of Nowhere

The New American Digest Posted on June 12, 2025 by DTJune 11, 2025

Every once in a while, rarely planned, never expected, and usually off the back trails further out than what most consider back trails, I’ll come across a surprise.

This pan, deep up a canyon in the Owyhee Mountains, was found hanging on the wall of an old miner’s cabin. The cabin was still mostly in good shape – not really habitable anymore, but worthy of shelter if caught in a storm.

I don’t know what I was thinking taking a vehicle up that “road” – brush cutting, rut filling, tree moving …
Well, yes I do (“I wonder what’s up here?“) … but I might have needed that cabin for shelter.

As far as I know, the pan is still there.

Over the past 45 years or so wandering in places a thinking person normally wouldn’t go, I’ve collected a few of these surprises – some I can prove such as this, some perhaps subject to an aging memory.

The few certain things I’ve learned of these findings is that 1) it’s no use taking someone with me with the purpose of finding “something”, 2) I will find nothing if that is my intent, and 3) it is not uncommon for me to not find “it” again if I try to return.

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Replies

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Rules

Gerard Van der Leun
12/26/45 - 1/27/23


Gerard's Last Post
(posthumous): Feb 4, 2023
"So Long. See You All a Little Further Down the Road"

When my body won’t hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Where will I go?
Will the trade winds take me south through Georgia grain?
Or tropical rain?
Or snow from the heavens?
Will I join with the ocean blue?
Or run into a savior true?
And shake hands laughing
And walk through the night, straight to the light
Holding the love I’ve known in my life
And no hard feelings

Avett Brothers - No Hard Feelings

The following was posted along with the announcement of Gerard's passing.
Leonard Cohen - Going Home

For a 2005 interview with Gerard


June 2025
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Most Recent Comments

  1. ghostsniper on Not A Popular OpinionJune 16, 2025

    California Dreamin', er, Freedom https://www.powerlineblog.com/archives/2025/06/california-nightmare-3.php

  2. ghostsniper on Not A Popular OpinionJune 16, 2025

    OK, you're gonna hafta give me a little more to work with. I don't know what this means.

  3. Casey on Do We Really Miss The 70s?June 16, 2025

    Ask me next year after my 50th HS grad reunion. 1976. Cars were the last good designs. So were the…

  4. Casey on Deep ThoughtsJune 16, 2025

    News comes out today: all the protestsriots are funded by (please be sitting down)...communists. You're welcome

  5. jean on Do We Really Miss The 70s?June 16, 2025

    I do not. Those socks gotta go.


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Jean's Blog

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,
play a song for me
I'm not sleepy
and there ain't no place I'm goin' to

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,
play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning,
I'll come followin' you

Take me for a trip upon
your magic swirling ship
All my senses have been stripped
And my hands can't feel to grip
And my toes too numb to step
Wait only for my boot heels to be wanderin'

I'm ready to go anywhere,
I'm ready for to fade
Unto my own parade
Cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it


Men who saw night coming down about them could somehow act as if they stood at the edge of dawn.


From Gerard's site. The picture always caught my eye.

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