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      • 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

Home→Published 2026 → April → 17

Daily Archives: April 17, 2026

Color/Grayscale

The New American Digest Posted on April 17, 2026 by DTApril 15, 2026

The people entrance to an old grain mill in Michigan. When I was but a lad, I was fascinated by these places - many still in operation; most if not all, in their last days. The older mills of 1890s vintage might still have had the original belt driven machinery; the sounds and smell of the operating equipment drew me in and held my attention long enough to get chased out of the workmen's way ... though often just to a safer place to watch.

If I was really lucky, a freight train would come by to load or unload whatever it was the mill needed or shipped: usually sacks of ground grain going out, machinery and hardware coming in - the mills in small towns often did double duty as the local hardware store.

Leonard was never large; its population was usually in the mid-200s, occasionally reaching 300.

So on one of my journeys home - that itself long, long ago, I re-visited this old mill. No longer in business, waiting its fate. The trim is new, the door is old. The photo was film.

Due to the miracle of Google Street view, I took an internet journey back to Leonard to see what I could see.

The part of the mill where this door once was no longer exists - the door opened onto what is now near the sidewalk; one would park a vehicle in what is now grass. The outline of the former wall still marks the location. The paint is worn, the windows and doors sealed off with hopes of preventing scavengers and vandals from entering, the road is paved, there's now a sidewalk and curbs, and what was once a worn-out, over-grown tertiary rail line is now a manicured and paved walking path, and there is no sign of the siding where boxcars and flats once were parked for loading and unloading.

Better days gone forever..

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Contact: dt@newamericandigest.org

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


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Most Recent Comments

  1. Anne on PhrasingApril 16, 2026

    We are so interested in "designing" new solutions to old problems. i have one you might consider. Any woman going…

  2. jd on Night Launch…April 16, 2026

    Lovely description, Jean. Thank you. DT does your site have a new look or is it my computer?

  3. DT on Night Launch…April 16, 2026

    Spent the 1980s and 2010s in the biz. The thrill wears off. It's not "giving up"; it's "had enough".

  4. azlibertarian on Night Launch…April 16, 2026

    Very nice, jean. I share a similar experience, although I can't express it poetically. My brother is in the oil…

  5. jean on Night Launch…April 16, 2026

    You're very welcome, HJB. I was on the beachside when the shuttle exploded. Heartbreaking, horrible sight.


Blogroll
The New Neo
Jean's Blog - Pondering
The Feral Irishman

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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