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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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Purple Glass

The New American Digest Posted on October 4, 2025 by DTOctober 3, 2025

Wandering around the site of old encampments

Manganese dioxide was once used as a clarification agent in glass, mostly between 1880 and 1914. When such treated glass is exposed to ultraviolet light - say intense desert sun - over a period of decades, it turns purple from exposure.

Shards of purple glass are sure signs of "settlement", even if said settlement consisted of a handful of tents lasting only long enough to establish that this strike wasn't the strike.

When I think about it, I was wandering around these places in the late 70s - pushing all too hard on 50 years ago. I used to find almost-complete purple bottles; now a complete top such as this is becoming rare. Hell, all of that is becoming rare.

I left it behind.

I've only found one complete unblemished bottle in all my searching - not that I bottle hunted in many of the places I poked around. For those that know railroads, there was a Wye for helper engines near the 10,000+ft Tennessee Pass station on the D&RGW. I was up there one spring poking around back by the tail end of the wye when a portion of the bottle had been exposed by melting snow and rain.

There was no label or markings - no surprise - but the presence of air bubbles in the glass suggest a date before 1920. Perhaps it too would be purple if it had been exposed to the sun.

I can imagine some engineman sitting out in a winter night at treeline, baby-sitting the engine, waiting for the next assignment; burning or freezing at turns around the engine - a contraband bottle of warm keeping him company.

The call comes, the bottle of warmth is emptied and tossed off in the weeds where it won't be readily visible should someone bother looking.

The engine rolls on.

That bottle looked at me liked a bedraggled hungry kitten - I just had to take it home and adopt it.

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Rio Grande Gorge

The New American Digest Posted on October 3, 2025 by DTOctober 2, 2025

Just west of Taos, NM, the gorge is about 800 ft deep at this point.

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Perhaps Something Beautiful … Almost

The New American Digest Posted on October 2, 2025 by DTOctober 1, 2025

my niece ... I promised her fame and fortune if she sent me a clip

Unfortunately cut-off early; blame it on her parents ...

Much as I dislike posting something incomplete, I made a promise to family ...
I try to get her to send me an entire performance - she tells me she doesn't have such a recording.

Bah ...

I hesitated to post this - I went back and forth; scheduled, draft, scheduled, draft.
However - I guess my final decision is obvious ...

I don't know the name of this piece.

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Gee – I Wonder

The New American Digest Posted on October 1, 2025 by DTOctober 1, 2025

"Numerous defense officials — who watched senior brass scramble to Washington and then sit through a partisan speech from President Donald Trump and a return to old-school military standards by Hegseth — were left wondering why the event had occurred at all."

I would suggest it was nothing more than a demonstration sufficient to drive the point home to all those high-ranking officers that they are not the top of the pyramid.

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Maples

The New American Digest Posted on October 1, 2025 by DTSeptember 30, 2025

Outside the Courthouse at Colonial Williamsburg with a large sugar maple just outside.

Every year, if conditions are right, the leaves become brilliant beyond what a camera can capture

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Shutdown

The New American Digest Posted on September 30, 2025 by DTSeptember 30, 2025

Maybe, maybe not.
Odds are much better "for" as a shutdown would play into the administration's hands.

Having been on both sides of a shutdown or two (thanks for the paid vacation), here's my observation:

The parts that the public finds useful will be shutdown (payments, parks).
The parts the government finds useful will not be shutdown (collections, congressional perks)

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I Have To Agree

The New American Digest Posted on September 30, 2025 by DTSeptember 30, 2025

On ZeroHedge: "Judge Reinstates Fired Professor Who Called Charlie Kirk A Nazi"

Reading the story, the professor's comments were made on his personal web site; nothing associated with the university. The university bowed to political pressure and fired him.
Freedom of speech includes speech you don't like.

On the other hand, the university cited the following as justification of termination:

“unfitness to discharge the trust reposed in public university faculty members or to perform assigned duties” and a policy requiring professors, even as private citizens, to remain accurate and respectful.

But I can see the university's point of view as well. Even in private, the professor at least informally represents the university. The university is allowed to define the criteria used to select employees - and is not covered by 1st Amendment protections (although an employee of a state university is an employee of the state government).
One might think someone in the professor's position would be smart enough in this day and age to not spout off such feelings on a public forum.

I might have to agree with the university - the speech itself may be free but there are other costs that must be paid.

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Tunesday – Tommy James & Shondells “Crimson & Clover”

The New American Digest Posted on September 30, 2025 by DTSeptember 16, 2025

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

Today’s selection: Tommy James & Shondells "Crimson & Clover" 1968

The long version

Her name was Diane. Blonde, large dark eyes. There was something about her.

Of course, I was far too young and had no idea what that something was.

I bought her this record as a present - must have been Christmas 1968.

I was certainly old enough to learn something about "that something" though.

It can be one-sided; she never spoke to me again.

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Bugged

The New American Digest Posted on September 29, 2025 by DTSeptember 28, 2025
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The 25,000 Cookies of Shannon Sniper

The New American Digest Posted on September 28, 2025 by DTSeptember 28, 2025

by ghostsniper
Published by by Vanderleun on December 1, 2021

Just this morning I was doing some rudimentary figuring and found out over the past 7 years and 2 months I have given my mutt Shannon over 25,000 cookies. That’s a lot. I had no idea. Funny how habits work, start off slow and the next thing you know it’s over the top.

The cookies are really large breed Iam’s dog food. Brown, about 5/8″ in diameter, and my left britches pocket always has a bunch of them in there. In the winter they are in my left downvest pocket that I wear constantly.

From the very first day we got Shannon when she was but a pup a few months old she has learned that I always have a cookie for her and sometimes she must earn them. This is how she has learned to take care of “business” like a machine. A friend came by one time when she was in the process of doing business and said it was the damnedest thing he had ever seen. Shannon has her own private yard that is fenced in and it is only for doing business and is cleaned daily. After breakfast each day she launches to her yard and does business one and immediately races to me for her reward, for which she jumps real high at full speed and she gets her cookie. She gobbles it down then relaunches back to the yard for business two, then back to me for cookie two. Like clockwork. Only once, since we’ve had her, did the “timing” get off and I believe it was because I think she may have eaten bunny poop. After a few days, she was back on track.

So Shannon gets 2 cookies at breakfast and 2 at supper, and 1 at bedtime, and about 5 more throughout the day. An average day means she enjoys 10 or more cookies. That’s 3,650 cookies a year. Over 7 years it adds up.

It’s not about the cookies, with Shannon. After all, her breakfast and supper are the same Iams large breed dog food. It’s the routine, and that I praise her heavily every.single.time. I give her a cookie. It’s a bond reinforcement. She and I are together almost every waking moment and usually she must be within inches of me. Her favorite place to be is wrapped up in the spokes/legs of my desk chair. Yes, that is dangerous, and she’s been rolled over a few times, and I’ve even scolded her about it. But she won’t be deterred. She must be as close to me as possible at all times.

If I get up from my chair Shannon gets up from the spokes and she’ll look at me with her ears up wondering what we’re gonna do next. Usually it is something mundane like going to the house and fixing a cup O’mud. Walking beside me across the bridge she is bubbling over in the joy of just living. Dancing, even in circles, prancing, and jumping, and nipping at my fingers. It is a big thing for her to just walk to the house. She’s easily amused and entertained.

In a way, Shannon is my best friend, even better than my wife of 37 years, because we spend so much time together. Even though my wife runs her business out of the house and I run mine out of my detached office/workshop we only see each other occasionally during the day, like when I got in the house to make my cup O’mud. Even though she and I are usually less than 100′ apart during the day it’s not unusual to not see each other until supper time when we sit down together, along with Shannon to break bread. The rest of the time it’s just Shannon and me.

After my last mutt died, in 2014, I didn’t really want to get another one. My previous mutt’s lifestyle and mine were pretty much like mine is with Shannon. We were heavily invested in each other and when she was gone an enormous vacuum existed and I floundered on how to fill that void. I just couldn’t get the thought of her out of my head. Almost every second of every day was filled with misery and there was nothing I could do about it. The thought of getting another mutt was almost repulsive to me. Like I was desecrating the memory of my deceased mutt. My wife would bring it up and I’d quickly dismiss it, even getting angry about it at times. It got so bad that I told her to not bring it up again. “If I want to get another mutt at some time in the future I’ll decide.” She told me she hates to see me down in the dumps about the loss. I told her there is nothing to be done and to stop trying to fix something she has no control over.

In mid-Sept of 2014, my wife sent me an email. “At the risk of making you angry, I just had to take a chance and send this to you. Take a look and see what you think.” The email had a link to a website for a dog kennel about 40 miles from here. The link had a mutt that they recently received and she was ready to be adopted after she had met their requirements. I looked, then I closed the site and forgot about it. Two days later, on a Friday, I looked at the website again. I went in the house and told my wife that we are going to Bargersville to look at “Spirit” the 4 month old female hybrid Australian Shepard – Brittany Spaniel at the website.

When we got to the Golden Post Kennel to see Shannon (her name was Spirit at the time), they brought her out to my wife and me in the front room and we were all glad to see each other for our very own and particular reasons. Spirit was overly bubbly and was jumping up at us uncontrollably and I knelt on the ground at her level. The leash and collar arrangement they had on her was difficult to work with as it was all one piece. The leash was basically wrapped around her neck and acted as a collar, and it’s impossible to control an animal in that manner.

After a few minutes, we went to an outside area in the rear that was enclosed on all 4 sides. This area was about 100′ wide by about 50′ deep and had a 10′ chainlink fence on the 2 ends. The front of this area was enclosed by the office building itself. The rear of this area was contained by a row of kennels with a chainlink fence separating them from this large open area. Each of the kennels had dogs in them, some 30 kennels in a row, and each kennel had a barking and curious dog in it. Various people were coming and going in this “meet and greet” area so the distractions were immense and a quality interview with Spirit was almost impossible. We were in this area for about 20 minutes and weren’t making much headway. My wife and I frequently looked at each other in frustration and wondered aloud if we were doing the right thing. The situation was so difficult I had my doubts as to whether this whole thing was right. I needed to find a way to break through the chaos and discover what I needed to know. I needed to know if Spirit was the dog I was going to invest a big part of my life in and with.

At one point I decided to try something to see how Spirit would act toward me. I told my wife to stay here and without saying another word to anyone I walked to one corner of the 50’x100′ space and just stood there for a moment. In short order, Spirit came over by me and just stood there. Without looking at, or acknowledging her, I started slowly walking to the opposite end some 100′ away. Spirit followed, and my wife stood in the middle observing, not saying a word. The mayhem meanwhile continued all around us. When I got to the corner I stopped and just stood there, again not saying anything to anyone and just observing out of the corner of my eye. Spirit stopped at that corner too and acted like she was waiting for direction on what to do. After a moment I started slowly walking toward the next corner, Spirit again followed.

Keep in mind there were numerous distractions all along, dogs barking uncontrollably, kids and adults running about, cars coming and going, etc. I repeated my previous behavior at this corner and then started walking to corner 4, again Spirit followed me. Spirit had been off the leash the whole time we were in this enclosed area and could have run off, so she was following me of her own volition. I stopped at corner 4 and stood there, by now Spirit was in tune with what I was doing.

I started walking to corner 1, where we had started, and Spirit followed me again. When we got to that corner I stopped and just stood there, and so did Spirit. I looked down at her and she was looking around, but she already knew where she was supposed to be – by me. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around her and told her she was a good gurl and she turned into a fountain bubbling all over the place.

Her natural charms had worked their spell and cut through the fog of distraction and confusion and overwhelmed my emotions. She won me and I stole her.

That clinched the deal for me, she was now my gurl and we just had to go through the formalities to make it so. My wife went inside and handled all the administrative tasks and I releashed Spirit with my own hardware I had brought along and she and I went out front to the huge grassed yard with large shade trees and boulders. We walked about and Spirit grew more comfortable with me, and I was learning her. I had not spent more than a few minutes with any dogs in more than 6 months and they of course were other people’s dogs, so not only was I finding Spirit I was finding me.

I sat down on a large boulder and Spirit climbed up on top to be near me. I spoke to her and she listened to me. I could see it in her eyes. Finally, she had found someone that wanted to spend time with her, just her, for the first time in her life. And I found someone to help me heal, to become whole again, to fill a void that had only seen despair for so long. She seemed appreciative if that is possible. She was very excitable but I attributed that to her very young age of 4 months. Everything around her was new all the time and warranted investigation. I understood this and allowed her to find her way. In a moment I was back in her main view and she was glad of it.

The printer was causing problems inside so it took my wife an unusually long time to join Spirit and me, maybe 20-30 minutes. The yard we were in was vast and was surrounded on 3 sides by an immense cornfield with stalks 10′ high, it was like we were in an enclosed castle yard. Cars came and went from the parking lot next to the yard and people would walk past us to their cars. On 2 occasions people stopped and told us how good we looked together and wished us luck and I thanked them. Finally, my wife emerged with the paperwork in hand that legally made Spirit ours, and us, hers. The two women that owned the place came out and wanted to take a picture of us for their Facebook page. Everybody thanked everybody and wished each other luck and we, my wife, Spirit, and I, jumped in the car and headed for home, Spirit’s new home.

Spirit, now “Shannon”, is laying on her blanky here next to my chair in front of my desk in my office.
Shannon is sleeping, and just now she let out with a low woo-woo-woo, from something she is dreaming about. I hope she is not having a bad dream of the days when no one wanted her. I hope she is dreaming about the good times she and we have had since she’s been here and the many more good times we will have in the future.

I name my mutts after 1970’s songs.
The first one was named “Dusty”, for “Dust in the Wind” (Kansas)
The next one was named “Lady” (Styx)
The next one was “Brandy” (Looking Glass)
And now “Shannon” (Henry Gross)

Shannon-29-Sep-2014
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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


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Most Recent Comments

  1. ghostsniper on Robert “Bob” B. 1950-2015November 8, 2025

    Where is it? ========= Ever wonder whatever happened to the chrome airplane that was on the cover of the (only)…

  2. azlibertarian on Robert “Bob” B. 1950-2015November 8, 2025

    ghost.... "...Multiple times daily I marvel at your last sentence...." Snakepit... "Bob lived a life good enough to be mentionable.…

  3. Snakepit Kansas on Robert “Bob” B. 1950-2015November 8, 2025

    Bob lived a life good enough to be mentionable. I hope I have done the same.

  4. ghostsniper on Robert “Bob” B. 1950-2015November 8, 2025

    Well told story DT. We all have our "Bobs" don't we? Multiple times daily I marvel at your last sentence.…

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    Three grizzly bears shot. The link is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=csIGpDMssoc I get my grizzly fence this spring!


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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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