The news cameras rolled into Karval yesterday. The filmed the new sign reading, “100 Years of Community”. They filmed vacant buildings and then they got down to business.
They met with Marc Hollenbaugh who told them the truth. It’s bad. There are fields and pastures buried in someone else’s topsoil. The dirt, the actual definition of displaced soil, sits in drifts over fences, behind windbreaks, over piles of tumbleweeds, behind every piece of sage, and around houses. Fields of green wheat are blown smooth, the wheat invisible.
They ran into Nelson Taylor who didn’t sugarcoat anything. This will cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars. His numbers are conservative. He’s tired of the wind. He is an institution in Karval and he is worried.
The cameras missed a few things that are harder to see. They missed the frustration each time a piece of legislation is passed at the “inconvenience” of rural Colorado. These are not people who can bear any more burden nor can they vote with any more passion. They missed the way wives give their husbands space and support as they watch the dry weather report and think about whether to sell out or try to hold on a little longer. They missed the brooms and shovels digging out yards and gardens to make home a little more comfortable, despite the punishing wind. They didn’t see the bills or have to face the bankers. They couldn’t hear the conversations the bankers have with their wives at night about decisions to call it quits with men they’ve done business with and been friends with for 30 years.
They also couldn’t see the groups come together for the greater good. They couldn’t see the people turn out in droves for the Lincoln Day Dinner or to support the FFA chapter and break bread together. There’s much here you just can’t see from the pavement but, like faith, when something is hard to see or touch doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
To see the 9 News feature: