from Cavalry Tactics fort robinson, nebraska You could tell that one day it would be a town, but the day hadn’t come yet. Even though it was just a few miles from Fort Robinson, there wasn’t much to it but a dirty street with dirty buildings, and a cold wind that never seemed to stop. It was April, and the people looked as cold as the land, but if you looked closer there was something inside them smoldering. The fire wasn’t completely out. They were settlers, pioneers, the people walking this street or riding in wagons and on horses. Daddy used to say a pioneer was someone who went looking for a place just like what they left behind, but with fewer people, or, better, none at all. I remember walking down the main street, which seemed to be the only street worth walking on, when I saw out of the corner of my eye a table with a man in a uniform behind it. I paid him no mind and was just walking by when he said, “Excuse me, young man, do you have a moment?” And I remember being surprised by a white man calling me “young man.”
