On a warm March day in 1988, there I was, a young 22-year old adventurer, standing alone on a sidewalk under the San Diego sun waiting for a bus. The Navy had just terminated my short career in the military by giving me an honorable discharge, and two intimidating military police unceremoniously escorted me off the base. Riding the bus to the airport as a rebranded civilian, I was ruminating and wondering who I was, where I was from, where I was going. A new chapter was starting in a journey, which began on a small-grains farm in North Dakota.
11 October 2015
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