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Unformatted text preview: ruck, and
I walk a short distance to a rocky outcropping. The Suburban now seems like a small, insignificant speck compared to what surrounds it. I walk a short distance to a rocky outcropping. The Suburban now seems like a small, insignificant speck compared to what surrounds it.
Pikes Peak and Cheyenne Mountain rise to the west, and in every other direction the prairie extends to the horizon, the shortgrass moving in
waves, blown by a steady wind.
Beyond the Lasater property line, the land is not faring so well. Smaller farms and ranches in the area have been disappearing for years. A
population loss that began in the 1950s has recently slowed, but too late. Many small towns have become virtual ghost towns. In the little
commercial district of Matheson, along a dirt road named Broadway, the feed store, the general store, and a repair shop have all been
abandoned. The whitewashed buildings have quaint, fading signs, and stand empty. The large, brick elementary school that Dale Lasater
attended — built at the turn of the century, its architecture full of American optimism — is now used by a local rancher to store grain.
Before taking over the family ranch, Dale Lasa...
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- Spring '08