The Sound of Sirens

Last night we went to bed to the sounds of sirens and rain/small hail on the roof and the news that a tornado had hit the Little Sioux Boy Scout Ranch. Before we switched off the television we knew that four youngsters had died but we didn't know all the details until this morning.

Last fall He Who Must Be Obeyed drove over to that campground and we saw the beauty of the place. The company he worked for had designed all of the facilities. When we first came to Omaha, he was an assistant Scout Master for the troop that met at our children's elementary school. Some time during the early '70's he took a group of Scouts there to earn orienteering and other merit badges. When I saw the Google Earth pictures on CNN I realized how terribly rugged the terrain was. Today the Nation shares the grief of those young boys, their leaders, and parents.

The first few years we were married he took Rapid City Boy Scouts out for a winter survival in the Black Hills. One year they got snowed in and endured living off the land in a blizzard. Survival is just that. Some of his boys requisitioned a couple of chickens from a ranch nearby, leaving money on the table as no one was home. Be Prepared.