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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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Per Request – Abandoned Building

The New American Digest Posted on January 21, 2026 by DTJanuary 20, 2026

Out in the Oregon wastelands between OR205 and US395 are the remnants of hardier people than of now that made a go of survival. Perhaps in their time, they were successful - this ruin certainly does not appear to have been a barely-hanging-on rancher's shack.

One wall - between the two parts of the house - looks to be stone; perhaps part of an original structure built as protection against Indians (1850s) or the harsh winds of winter. The shake shingles suggest construction before the advent of corrugated tin or asphalt roofing. The thickness of the window frame suggest thick walls. The portion to the left suggests a screen porch. The outhouse was on the other side of the tree - whose condition suggests plentiful water. The metal artifact low in the grass suggests 1920s.

The condition of the building and surrounding grounds suggests it might have been lived in as late as the 40s or 50s.

If I could remember where I was when I took this photo, I'd go back and see what has changed in the 20+ years since I was there last.

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Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Replies

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO……ME!

The New American Digest Posted on January 20, 2026 by ghostsniperJanuary 20, 2026

submitted by ghostsniper via comments

Welp, it was 40 years ago today that I started my architectural design business.

Time flies…..

Was living in Fort Myers, Florida at the time, 30 years old, been married a year and a half, had an infant son, and was working at the best job I ever had getting paid more than I deserved, for the largest architecture firm in the state. I was a lead designer and was treated like a king by everybody there. But then, I did work like they never seen before, nor since.

I landed that job in the summer of 85 and they offered to pay me MORE than what I was asking for. I was not yet an architect so my title was Lead Designer and I was doing design work on their biggest projects. Sarasota Justice Center. Tampa Stadium. Sugarloaf Key Elementary School. St Anthony Church restoration (oldest church in Florida), etc.

All of that stuff was a piece of cake and not nearly enough to sate my drive. I was burning hard at both ends and exploding in the middle. Out of our little rented house I was doing side jobs, nights and weekends after working 60 hour weeks at “the firm”. Residential remodeling and additions, single family homes, multi-family buildings, new commercial construction, everything. I turned nothing away and kept trying for more.

Soon, I realized I was earning more money on my own than at my well paid job, so the job had to go. Now I could devote all of my time to my goal.

My wife didn’t work until our son was 5 and started school so she handled the books for my business. It didn’t take long before I realized this wasn’t going to work. Some people can some how work with their wife, I cannot.

I moved my business into an office, expanded my licenses statewide, and hired an accountant to handle all the bookwork. I hired a part time drafter. I aligned (joint ventures) with 2 architects for larger projects. The whole thing was upwardly mobile.

Some of my projects started winning contests and awards. During 1990 I had designed more model home centers in the 3 county area than anyone else and I hired 2 more drafters and a full time administrative assistant and I started attending real estate school.

In 1994 I started getting involved with CAD, Computer Aided Design, and kicked everything into high gear. I was doing some of the largest projects in the area and was attracting some celebrity attention for specialized projects. I did one gov’t project, lost my ass on it, and never did another one.

By 2000 I was realigned with reality, trimming the fat, becoming more specialized. I could pick and choose my projects. I only wanted to design large scale custom homes on islands. That’s where the top quality projects intersected with top quality clients and pay. I was the exclusive designer for the islands of Sanibel, Captiva, Bokeelia, Cayo Costa, Useppa, and Boca Grand. Top shelf material all the way around.

Since 2010 I have slowed down a little, only doing 10-20 projects a year. No office, no employees, just me and some sub-contract associates in Florida. Last year I completed my last commercial project. I will continue to do preliminary design work on commercial projects but all construction documents will be handled by others. I’ll keep designing custom homes too.

Since I was 11 and in 7th grade I had a pretty clear view of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life as a vocation. Design buildings. There have been many challenges along the way. Heartbreaks. Massive frustrations. Months on end of irritable clients, projects, and gov’t overbearance. More than once I wanted to give up. Throw the towel in. Just go get a job and let others be responsible. But after a few brews, a puff of smoke, and a few hours or snoring, and 6 am the next day I was always back at it. Never giving up.

I’m old now, and I want to work up til I die. But the reality of such a thing is not good thinking. In earlier times this had never occurred to me. Getting old is something you do alone, and you learn alone.

Last Sept my mutt Shannon died and I told my wife I’ll not get another mutt and thrust it onto someone else when I die. Similarly, I don’t want to leave my clients high and dry when I die. Uncompleted projects that would probably be locked up in probate to where other people would not be able to complete them. Such a condition could cause problems for my wife. I won’t let that happen.

I learned how to start and successfully run a business for more than half my life and now I must learn the reverse, how to shut it down, and when. How do you stop doing something that has been so good to you for so long?

mountain
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Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Replies

Sometimes All One Can Do …

The New American Digest Posted on January 20, 2026 by DTJanuary 20, 2026

... is stop to smell the roses.

If it weren't for needing to keep an eye on my enemies, I wouldn't bother watching the news.

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Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Replies

Tunesday – Camel Medley: Nimrodel/The Procession/The White Rider

The New American Digest Posted on January 20, 2026 by DTJanuary 18, 2026

A sample of some obscure - and maybe not obscure - tunes from my strange and off-the-wall collection.

Today's double selection: Camel Medley: Nimrodel/The Procession/The White Rider 1974

Off one of my favorite albums, this medley off "Mirage" is inspired by "Lord of the Rings".

I've blown out speakers cranking this piece up at about 7:00. My solution? Get bigger speakers and crank it up further.

Camel was formed in England in 1971, Mirage being their second album. Their first performance was as the opening band for Wishbone Ash. Back in the mid-70s, they toured with Wishbone Ash quite a bit - I believe I saw those bands together in 1974 at a place called "The Icehouse" in Kalamazoo before I left Michigan although I can find no record of such a concert. Everything's on the internet except my memory.

The original lineup produced 4 albums until 1976 when personnel changes began. One member of the original band is still part of the group. Not fully active since 2002, they still perform live occasionally.

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Posted in tunes, Uncategorized | 3 Replies

If It Had Been A Black Church …

The New American Digest Posted on January 19, 2026 by DTJanuary 19, 2026

Don Lemon instigates an anti-ICE protest against a church during services. In Minneapolis St Paul of course.
(Same metro area with a river between them. C'mon Portland, you're slipping!)

Pretty much something every day now ...

It was Cities Church of St Paul, somewhat affiliated with the Baptists.

One commenter:

"Yeah, so if Don Lemon and every single radical that stormed that church isn’t immediately arrested, people are going to start taking matters into their own hands & things are going to get ugly fast.

Either the DOJ steps up, or the American parents whose kids were terrified, will
"

The fuse has been lit. Is it possible to snuff it out before things blow?
Or maybe it's time to let it blow and sort this crap out once and for all.

I don't see either option as a "good one".

Stay tuned - same bat time, same bat channel

It appears Don Lemon "has been put on notice" by DOJ.
At least until the next incident puts this one on the back burner.
(Killing? Do you remember any killing?)

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Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Replies

Love Is Rare…

The New American Digest Posted on January 19, 2026 by JeanJanuary 18, 2026

First posted by Jean at "Pondering", Jan 13, 2026

when
love is lost
the world
can
go to hell.
it's better
if you never
had it in the
first place
because
then
you don't
know what you
missed.

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Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Replies

World’s Most Beautiful Airport

The New American Digest Posted on January 18, 2026 by DTJanuary 18, 2026

San Francisco International Airport’s Harvey Milk Terminal 1 received the top honor.

Why you might ask?

"Harvey Milk Terminal 1 was designed to establish a new benchmark for an extraordinary airport experience, bringing to life our mission to put people and planet first. Being the first airport terminal in the world named for an LGBTQ+ leader only enhances the significance of this recognition, and my thanks go out to the entire project team for this milestone achievement"

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Another Damn Salamian

The New American Digest Posted on January 18, 2026 by DTJanuary 18, 2026

Headline: "The White House posted a video clip Saturday of Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-MN) calling the United States of America the “U.S. G**damn States” in a rant about ICE immigration enforcement."

A Muslim crook and illegal immigrant to boot.

Go back to Salamiland where you belong. Maybe those groups that forced you to leave in the first place will give you the treatment you so richly deserve. Remember you were not part of the oppressed but one of the oppressors that got run out.

Come to this country as a so-called refugee and spend your time dissing the place and people that saved your ass.

We have enough of our own "bad" people - but they're ours.
You're not.

When are the people of this country going to say enough is enough? The judges are useless and the politicians aren't going to.
I suspect this summer should be "interesting" - if the conflagration holds off until then.

Taken from SG Ammo by way of Bayou Renaissance Man:
"We have seen a sharp increase in consumer demand for bulk ammo orders over the past 8 days. Daily sales volume initially rose 25% to 35%, and now 35% to 45% over the past 3 days when compared to the daily averages of the first week of this month. This also represents an even larger increase from demand in December."

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Keeping Warm

The New American Digest Posted on January 18, 2026 by DTJanuary 16, 2026

And bio-degradable ...

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Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Replies

Lunch at 7-11….

The New American Digest Posted on January 17, 2026 by JeanJanuary 15, 2026

Published by Jean on July 4, 2006

Thirty minutes isn't much time for lunch. Unless you're organized enough to pack something from home, which she isn't.

Walking quickly up the sidewalk toward the convenience store entrance, she sees a small, dirty figure of a man. He speaks quietly, but clearly, "Excuse me, ma'am ... could you spare something? A dollar or two for food?"

She stops and looks directly at his eyes. Not red or glassy, but definitely tired.
Most times she puts off these requests by saying she has no cash, and then just walks on. This time, she reaches into her purse and says, "Let me see what I have." Only a ten dollar bill and some piddly change. She sighs, takes out the bill, folds it and hands it to him. "Here ya go. Hope it helps some."

Before she can turn away, he says softly, "Thank you, ma'am. You're very kind."

She thinks to herself, "No, I'm not. And I have no idea why I'm doing this."
To him she says, "Take care." She watches him smile at her shyly.....or is it embarrassment?...... and slowly walk towards the fast-food place next door.

The summer heat and humidity is smothering today, but she notices that he is dressed in heavy, old jeans and what looks like a couple of long sleeved shirts.
His long, dark hair is flattened to his head with sweat. He walks hunched over, head down. More like a man in his late seventies, even though after seeing his face, this man couldn't be more than somewhere in his forties. She also notices that he is not carrying anything ....... no backpack, no duffle bag..... not even a garbage bag with whatever possessions he might still have.

She takes one step forward and calls to him, "Hey....wait!"
Walking cautiously towards each other, she asks him, "Where are you from?"

"Ohio, ma'am. Hope to get back there someday."

"Do you have anybody there? Family or friends?", she asks him, while asking herself, "What the hell are you doing??"

"So, you'd have someone to take you in for a while?"

"Coupla friends. Most of my family, what's left of them, gave up on me a while back."

"Do you know a phone number to get hold of your friends?"

He backs up a step. "I know the number that worked about six months ago."

Fumbling in her purse, she finally pulls out a plastic card.
"Listen, this is a phone card I bought for a stupid reason not too long ago. I don't need it. You go get something to eat and then call your friends. I have errands to run after work, but will you meet me back here at six o'clock?"

He just stares at her, not moving.

"Yeah, I know" she says, "..this isn't making much sense to me either. If your friends are still there for you, we'll work something out....... What town in Ohio would you be heading to, anyway?"

"Akron."

"Okay..... so, meet me here at six.......and don't use up all the minutes on that card. You might need some for later."

She headed back to her car, already late for work, and wondering if she had enough change in her purse to get a soda from the machine in the employee lounge.

For the next three and a half hours her thoughts bounced around in her head like a pinball machine. Finally, she found a scrap of paper and began making a list:
shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, disposable razors, comb, vienna sausage, beef sticks, chips, crackers, cookies, water....... that was for WalMart. The next list was for Goodwill......some clothes and, hopefully, a small suitcase.

He was sitting at the end of the sidewalk, out of the sun, when she drove into the parking lot. She got out of the car and waved..... and then looked around self-consciously to see if anyone had noticed. He stood up as she got out of her car, but did not approach.

"Did you talk to your friends?"

"Yes, ma'am..... one of them. I told him I might call back later. Was that OK?"

"Definitely. I called the bus station. You can head out of here tomorrow morning if you still want."

"Yes, I still want......but, how much is the ticket going to cost? And.......I don't understand why....... why you're doing this."

"Don't worry about the ticket. And, as far as why I'm doing this....... I'm not sure I know either.......... Let's go get your ticket."

Being a tourist town in the Sunshine State, it had plenty of motels. After they left the bus station, she didn't have to drive far before pulling into the parking lot of a small one. She already rented the room and had the key, so she pulled in front of the room and turned off the engine. He didn't get out of the car immediately. He sat there, in the front seat, and stared at her.

"By the way, my name is Sam." he said.

"My name is Jane."

Neither of them moved to shake hands. They both got out of the car. She went to the back of the car to gather the packages from shopping. She handed him the key to the room.

Once inside the room, she deposited the packages on the bed and turned on the air conditioning unit. He stood in the middle of the room, looking like he might bolt for the door.

"Okay, Sam....... this is my plan.....tell me what you think. I'm gonna go get us some sandwiches or something for dinner. While I'm gone, you can shower and then call your friend. Let him know what time you'll be getting off the bus in Akron. There are clean clothes in this bag and bathroom stuff in the other one. Oh, ......is there something special you'd like to have for dinner?"

"I'm not picky, Jane. Anything is fine."

"I know, but is there something you haven't had in a long time that you'd really like?"

"Well........I haven't had a pizza in about a year."

"Great......pizza it is..... I'll be back in about an hour."

When she returned to the motel, the sun was setting. It was still hot and humid.
She hoped the a/c was working in the room.

He opened the door when she knocked. The a/c was working fine and he had the television on. She almost didn't recognize him. He was now clean-shaven and seemed to be standing straighter than before. She saw him smile for the first time.
And she smiled back.

She handed him the pizza and he smiled even wider. She also brought cigarettes, cold beer and two salads. They organized everything on the small table beside the bed and sat down opposite each other. That's when she noticed his eyes...... full of tears.

They ate slowly, without talking, for several minutes. Finally, he sat back in the chair and grinned and rubbed his stomach and let out a big sigh.

"There's more beer ya know, Sam. Don't let it get warm."

"Will you have another one with me, Jane? ....Please?"

"Sure. Thank you."

Their conversation began slowly. She asked him about his life before here. He began telling his story. He had had a life not really much different than many others. A stint in the military after high school. Two or three different jobs after that. Fell in love and got married. Got a job he really loved as a machinist in a factory. Life was good for a while. Then the bad stuff started piling up.

He said because he made good money, he and his wife spent good money. Their debt grew......and about the time they realized they were getting in too deep, his job changed. The economy took a nose-dive. His hours were cut back. He and his wife began having trouble keeping up with the bills, and they began arguing...... a lot. He started selling off some of the big toys..... jet skis, boat, and finally the '67 Mustang he spent three years rebuilding. It wasn't enough.

When he finally lost his job completely because the plant shut down, his wife left him. He put the house up for sale, but no one wanted to pay what was left on the loan.......let alone enough for any kind of profit. The bank finally foreclosed.

He moved back in with his parents and then his wife filed for divorce. Unemployment ran out and there were no job prospects in the area. He met a guy in a local bar who was getting ready to travel south. He invited Sam to come along...get a new start in a new place. Their first night in Florida, they celebrated by getting drunk on the beach. When Sam woke up in the motel room the next day, his new friend was gone. And so was all the money Sam had in the world.

The motel finally kicked him out when he couldn't pay the bill. He began living on the streets. He knew friends and family back home were having their own rough times, so he never considered going back or asking them for help. That was more than four years ago.

She asked him, "So, what makes you want to go back now?"

"This isn't home. It isn't where I want to be. And, no matter what I have to do to make a life back there, I'll do it. I just want to go home."

She stood up, took her keys out of her purse and said, "I need to get home and feed my critters and get some sleep. I'll take you to the bus station in the morning."

"Jane, if there is ever any way I can pay you back for all this............"

"No, Sam..........", she had to leave her words unfinished. The lump in her throat kept her from saying any more.

The next morning, through the motel room window, he saw her car pull up in front of the room. He picked up his backpack, dropped the key on the dresser and opened the door just as she was ready to knock. They smiled at each other and walked to her car.

They found the bus he needed to start his trip home. It was almost time to board.

Sam looked at her and asked, "You never did tell me why you are doing this."

Her voice was barely audible when she finally started to speak. He watched her face closely and saw her struggle to explain.
"Well, Sam....... I know what it feels like to be stuck in a place you don't want to be." Her chin started to quiver and her throat tightened. "I know what it feels like to be alone. I've been too stupid and too stubborn to do anything about me. But, for some reason that I can't begin to understand, I knew I had to do what I could for you. There may not be any sense to it, but that's all I know to say."

A harsh, nasal voice came through the speakers announcing the boarding of the bus. He put down his backpack and put his arms around this total stranger and hugged her tighter than anyone he had ever hugged in his life. They stood clinging to each other until the final boarding announcement wedged them apart.

"Jane....... I hope you make it home someday too."

"Be well, Sam. Goodbye."

She did not turn to look back as she walked to the parking lot. When she finally found herself in her car, her face twisted in pain. Her whole body shook as her sobs echoed in her ears.

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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


February 2026
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Most Recent Comments

  1. DT on When Did It Become Legal Or Even Acceptable …February 9, 2026

    I wondered where such a letter could be published - seems so many places wouldn't accept such a comment. PA…

  2. G706 on Lester, WashingtonFebruary 9, 2026

    Just boarded the Coast Starlight destination Tulare, California.

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    My lap warmer. His name is Kevin

  4. Joe on When Did It Become Legal Or Even Acceptable …February 9, 2026

    Pennsylvania.

  5. DT on When Did It Become Legal Or Even Acceptable …February 9, 2026

    If I may ask and if you don't mind answering, what state do you live in? I imagine many places…


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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