A touch of Americana was on display Sunday night during the Florence Labor Day celebration. We had never heard the Prairie (no longer Rose) Wranglers before, and after talking with others we were apparently the only ones who hadn’t.
It was a genius move on the part of the committee to bring them to town. These cowboy musicians are very talented and put out a great sound. And they are funny to boot. It was my kind of humor.
The crowd was huge with many familiar faces from all over the county and beyond.
It’s the end of August, which means we have the opportunity to feature area athletes from six high schools and Tabor College in our annual fall sports “Extra Point” special section in the Free Press this week. Each high school has a minimum of two sports but others have three or four with Tabor having six different competitive teams.
It takes a tremendous amount of effort on the part of our news and sports team as well as our advertising and production crew to make it all come together.
And we couldn’t do it without the cooperation of each of the coaching staffs and the advertisers who make it possible to cover the costs of bringing this information to you. As publisher I thank all who helped make it happen.
The timing of it coincides with the monthly Buyer’s Edge, so this is the one week during the year that we are, as I like to say, “bigger than the Eagle.”
Normally I don’t get up at 4 a.m., at least not on purpose. But I did this past Saturday. It was necessary to be in Wichita by 6 a.m. to leave for Greensburg with my cousins to help their brother and my cousin, Paul Unruh, erect his new machine shed.
I didn’t know it would be harder than I thought to find my cousins’ house just off of 53rd Street in the dark. And I left the piece of paper with his phone numbers at home on the kitchen counter.
Then it occurred to me I could get arrested for driving slowly through these neighborhoods in the dark of night.
Finally, I found the right street and house—but no one was up, so I waited until the lights came on.
It will be 40 years this fall since I last attended school full time. It was my senior year at Kansas University. Little did I know then that it was my last real vacation. That doesn’t mean I goofed off. It was just that work wasn’t the main focus of my waking hours.
This week as school begins in earnest around these parts, we need to watch out for the kids—on foot and on bikes. They have other things on their minds than looking out for us.
This week’s edition of the Free Press marks the end of our ninth year of publishing and next week begins the 10th. To celebrate, maybe we’ll start giving them away next year. Wait, we already do.
Partly Nonsense 
