Family
Yellow fever used to be one of the deadliest of diseases, and it can still be highly dangerous today, with mortality rates depending on how severe the illness becomes. Around 20% to 50% of people with severe yellow fever may die, and about 15% to 20% develop a severe hemorrhagic phase, half of whom don’t survive. For those with severe disease, death rates can range from 30% to 60%. Each year, yellow fever is responsible for roughly 30,000 deaths worldwide, making it a serious threat, especially in regions where it’s common.
In June 1900, Major Walter Reed, a US Army physician, took command of the United States Army Yellow Fever Commission in Havana, Cuba, tasked with figuring out the cause and transmission of yellow fever. At the time, the disease…spread by virus-carrying mosquitoes…was a serious threat in tropical regions, causing high death rates with no known prevention. Reed was joined by James Carroll, Aristides Agramonte, and Jesse W. Lazear, all experienced in infectious diseases. Their mission was to test 
Cuban doctor Carlos Finlay’s theory that yellow fever was spread by the Aedes aegypti mosquito, rather than poor sanitation or direct contact.
Mosquito feeding tests involved hatching eggs from infected patients and feeding the mosquitoes on volunteers, who later recovered, proving the insects could transmit the virus, according to The Army Historical Foundation. In controlled human exposure, volunteers were bitten by infected mosquitoes, offering direct proof of transmission. To disprove other theories, they tested the bacterial theory and miasma hypothesis by having volunteers wear soiled clothing from infected patients, with no cases of transmission observed.
By February 1901, Reed’s team had confirmed that yellow fever was caused by an infectious agent, later 
identified as a virus. The female Aedes aegypti mosquito was the only vector, picking up the virus during the first three days of a person’s infection and transmitting it to others through its bite. Reed’s research saved countless lives by enabling targeted mosquito control, inspired public health measures like draining standing water, fumigation, and insecticide use, and helped the Panama Canal project by eliminating yellow fever from construction sites. His work laid the foundation for modern epidemiology and experimental medicine, marking one of the most important medical breakthroughs of the early 20th century.
Recently, my grandson Caalab Royce came to Casper for a visit with his parents, his sister Shai, and her boyfriend Angelo. Caalab moved with his parents, Amy and Travis Royce, to Ferndale, Washington right after he graduated from high school in 2014. Since that time, I obviously don’t get to see them as much as I did when the kids were little. Having him here took me back in time to the little boy that he once was. Caalab loved to play with my long hair from the time he was a baby, and unlike most babies, or kids for that matter, Caalab was very gentle with my hair. He never wanted to pull it, just to run my hair between his fingers…ever so gently. And…it wasn’t just my hair. When he was first dropped off at the daycare, he was very upset, until one of the teachers, Rachel let him play with her tight tiny braids. He loved them…and her. After that, he settled right in, often making sure that he was always sitting next to Rachel…when he wasn’t playing with the other kids that is.
Caalab always had a smile that lit up his whole face, and that hasn’t changed at all. That smile is a big part of 
him, and it’s always a joy to see. Caalab is a happy person, who can draw just about anyone into his circle of friends, and believe me, they feel honored to be there. Caalab has never known a stranger and calls most people his friends. He is very loyal to those he loves and treats them very well. His smile hasn’t changed much since his little boy days, and his laugh is still infectious. These days, like many men, he sports a beard, but that’s about the extent of the change on his face. It was so good to see him and be able to share a few good times. We were able to go on a hike to Garden Creek Falls with his parents, as well as his Papa, Bob. It was a lot of fun. Caalab has always loved going for walks and hiking in the mountains, so this was right up his alley.
The visit was short unfortunately, because they were here to celebrate his great grandmother, Virginia Hansen’s 90th birthday. It was such a blessing for the family to still have her with them. Still, even though the visit was short, I was so pleased that they were able to make the trip, and so pleased that Caalab was able to make it 
with his family. While I am happy that Caalab loves living in Washington, I nevertheless miss him very much. Through the years, he has been such a blessing to me, and even through the years when he decided that it was great fun to pull a large strand out hair straight out and swat at it…gently of course. I have always love having my hair touched, brushed, and yes played with, and Caalab was always happy to oblige. He loved and still loves the feel of hair. He was always a great blessing to me and still is. Today is Caalab’s birthday. Happy birthday Caalab!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
My grandson, Josh Petersen met the love of his life, Athena “Salazar” Petersen years before they married on July 24, 2023. They were in middle school when they first met, and Athena tells me that she didn’t like him then, but when they met again at work, she felt quite different about him. I could see that it was love the first time I saw them together, and of course, they knew it too. These days, their lives are very full. They have four sons, Justin (who will be 4 in October), Axel (who will be 3 in September), Cristian (who will be 2 in January), and the baby, Graham (three months). They are very happy in their life together.
In fact, Josh and Athena are all about family. They are very loyal to both her family and his. Both sides know 
that they can count on Josh and Athena to be there to help out in whatever way they can. Life is unpredictable and family often need to be able to rely on each other…especially as the years go by. That is exactly how Josh and Athena are…people who can be relied upon. They are also a family that chooses to share all of the wonderful events life has in store for people. When Athena married into our family, her whole family became part of our family. I can truly say that I love every one of them. I hope they feel the same way about us, because it’s always best to be part of one big happy family. It makes life so much easier on the happy couple.
Josh and Athena love the outdoors, and so they enjoy hiking, swimming, and barbecues with family. They are 
always busy doing something. That’s a good thing for them and the boys. Leading an active lifestyle is always best. And with four active boys, it’s a great way to ensure that they sleep well afterward. As we all know, kids have a lot of energy, and boys seem to have a double portion of it. Typical of boys. I think it’s a good thing Josh and Athena like living an active lifestyle. They need to be in good shape to handle the energy of those boys. They are good parents, and their boys love them so much. Today is Josh and Athena’s 3rd anniversary. Happy anniversary Josh and Athena!! Have a great day!! We love you very much!!
On June 23, 1946, a powerful magnitude 7.3 earthquake struck Vancouver Island, causing significant damage but relatively few casualties thanks to its timing and location. The quake struck at about 10:13a, Pacific Time, and it remains the largest recorded onshore quake in Canadian history. The epicenter was in the Forbidden Plateau area of central Vancouver Island, near Courtenay and Campbell River. Tremors were felt from Portland, Oregon, in the south to Prince Rupert, British Columbia, in the north. The shaking sparked widespread panic, sending people rushing into the streets in cities like Victoria and Vancouver.
The earthquake caused major damage, toppling about 75% of the chimneys in nearby towns like Cumberland, Union Bay, and Courtenay. Comox, Port 
Alberni, and Powell River also saw significant destruction. Sadly, two people lost their lives…one drowned when a small boat capsized in a wave triggered by the quake, and another suffered a fatal heart attack in Seattle. The quake is thought to have been caused by a strike-slip fault linked to Vancouver Island’s geological features, though the exact tectonic forces remain unclear. The event sparked greater interest in seismology in Canada, leading to the installation of more sensitive seismometers and a systematic study of regional earthquakes.
The earthquake triggered numerous landslides across Vancouver Island and caused land subsidence, especially along the Strait of Georgia’s shorelines. Deep Bay’s seabed sank between 9 feet and 84 feet, according to the Canadian Hydrographic Service, and Read Island experienced a 9.8 feet ground shift. Ships in the area felt jolts like running aground, and undersea power lines were destroyed in Alberni Inlet and near Powell River. Lighthouse keepers reported damage such as shattered windows and broken dishes. A tsunami hit Texada Island’s west coast with two waves…one 6 feet 7 inches high and another 3 feet 3 inches high. The quake also 
caused a landslide near Mount Colonel Foster. Fortunately, an aerial survey of Vancouver Island began shortly after in 1946, providing valuable photographs later studied in the late 1970s.
The 1946 Vancouver Island earthquake stands out as a major event in Canadian history, reminding us of the region’s seismic activity and the possibility of future quakes. It underscored the need for preparedness and awareness of geological risks in the Cascadian Subduction Zone. This quake marked a key moment in Canada’s seismic history, showing both the force of nature and the resilience of communities facing disaster.
Since Congress passed the Homestead Act in 1862, land ownership was destined to change drastically. Around 1869, with the Durbin brothers’ sheep ranch near Cheyenne, homesteaders began moving to Wyoming, hoping—like many others in the West, to claim government land for little or nothing and make a living from it. Between 1862 and 1916, seven new laws or changes to the original laws were enacted. Most of the people looking to take advantage of the possibility of owning land were men, because the reality is that homesteading was a tough undertaking, and that meant that it was mostly men that took on the task. Yes, most of them brought their families, but when it came to homesteading alone, men were generally the rule.
However, there were a few women who decided that the mold of men and homesteading, did not necessarily suit them. One early fall day in downtown Chicago, a woman named Florence Blake met a young male acquaintance who shared his story about claiming land in Wyoming. Blake was instantly inspired to follow suit. Through that conversation, Florence Blake learned about homesteading, and her life would never be the same again. Thanks to a 1912 law that didn’t require year-round residence in order to claim a homestead, she could spend the coldest five months in Chicago, working to fund her venture, and then return to her homestead the rest of the year. Blake decided that if her friend could homestead, so could she. She decided that she was a strong and as tough as he was. It wasn’t really a feminist thing, but rather a determination that if one person was capable, the other could be too. So, Blake worked winters back in Chicago to earn enough to support her claim, which was quickly becoming her passion. Blake worked hard and never gave up until the land was hers.
Strangely, her success was typical. I would have thought that most women who tried homesteading alone, would fail, but research shows that women homesteaders were as likely to succeed as men. Blake’s story soon caught the eye of the Chicago Tribune, and on March 21, 1920, the paper reported that sisters Mary and Norah Russell had also claimed Wyoming homesteads and traveled on the same train as Blake. Blake mentioned them too, though not by name. They reached Gillette during an April snowstorm, and poor road conditions kept Blake in town for about a month, during which she took on various jobs. When the roads cleared, she hired two trucks—one for her portable house and another for a stove and lumber for cupboards, a floor, and an outhouse. The Chicago man who sold her the portable garage-turned-house claimed it “could easily be assembled by a woman,” but in reality, it still took three strong men an entire day to put together the house, a lean-to, and an outhouse. The outhouse had no door but offered a clear view of the nearby Pumpkin Buttes.
Within a few weeks, Blake had settled into her routine. Tending the garden, hauling water from a nearby spring, and trying out various cooking experiments kept her busy. Each evening, she went for a walk: “I’d sit cross-
legged on my pet rock, watching the sun set behind the Big Horn Mountains, listening to the many birds settling in for the night. The Meadowlarks sang their last sweet song of the day. The hills were blanketed with wildflowers, and the air was fresh and sweet.” She went on to successfully earn her claim and she stayed in Wyoming, eventually marrying a man named Archibald Smith, a resident of Gillette and former rancher in the area. The couple eventually settled in Cheyenne, where “Arch” had been appointed commissioner in charge of the dairy, foods and oil division for the Wyoming Department of Agriculture.
For those who no longer have their dad here on Earth, Father’s Day inevitably carries a touch of sadness. Many of us wish for just one more day or one more memory with our dad, but that, of course, is not possible. Instead, we quietly send a Happy Father’s Day wish to Heaven, knowing that our dad doing well and filled with joy. It’s we who carry the weight of sorrow and loneliness. For me, both my father, Allen Spencer, and my father-in-law, Walter Schulenberg, are in Heaven now, and I often find myself forgetting the day’s approach, maybe as a way to protect myself from the sadness their absence brings. My comfort comes from knowing I’ll see them again in Heaven. Until then, to my dads, I say Happy Father’s Day in Heaven. I’m sure it will be a truly wonderful day there…far better than anything we could ever plan for them here on Earth.
I feel so blessed to have had two wonderful dads in my life. My dad made sure that we…his five daughters and our mom…had chances to see the country, go camping, read maps, plan trips, and enjoy many other 
adventures. He taught us responsibility, love for one another, and most importantly, love for God. My father-in-law was much the same kind of man, even though his family didn’t travel much. They were still incredibly close and always helped each other in any way needed. It’s like a network of people with unique talents who share the load when challenges arise. I will always be proud of and grateful for my two dads, both of whom are now living with God in Heaven.
I’m blessed to have several men in my life who qualify as dads, even if they’re not my own. My husband, Bob Schulenberg, is the proud father of my children, Corrie Petersen and Amy Royce. My sons-in-law, Kevin Petersen and Travis Royce, have been wonderful husbands and fathers, working hard to give my daughters and 
grandchildren happy lives. My grandsons, Chris Petersen…father to a daughter and two sons, and Josh Petersen…father to four sons, are both deeply involved in raising their kids. I’m so proud of these men, who show their children every day what it means to be a great dad. They’re loving fathers, strong role models, and true blessings. I also want to honor my brothers-in-law and nephews, who are amazing dads as well. Today, on Father’s Day, it’s a time of memories for me, but also a celebration for us all. Happy Father’s Day to them and to all the dads out there!
Bugsy Siegel built his criminal empire through bootlegging, gambling, and ruthless hits before making his mark in Las Vegas. He launched the iconic Flamingo Hotel and Casino, kicking off a notorious gambling operation in the middle of the desert. Born Benjamin Siegel on February 28, 1906, in Brooklyn, New York, he was the son of Jewish immigrants and grew up in the rough Williamsburg neighborhood, where Irish and Italian gangs thrived. As a teen, he shook down pushcart vendors on New York City’s Lower East Side. In 1918, he teamed up with fellow gangbanger Meyer Lansky to form the Bugs-Meyer Gang…a crew of tough Jewish mobsters who also ran a deadly group of contract killers known as Murder, Inc. In January 1929, Siegel married his childhood sweetheart, Esta Krakower, and they had two daughters, Millicent (who passed away in 2017) and Barbara. But Siegel’s wandering eye led to their divorce in 1946, after ccc which Esta took the girls, left Beverly Hills, and moved back to New York. 
In the 1920s, Mafia boss Charles “Lucky” Luciano and other Italian gangsters formed a national syndicate. Known as Bugsy for his fiery temper, Siegel quickly rose in the ranks of this new criminal network. In 1931, aiming to eliminate some of New York’s old guard, Siegel was one of four hitmen tasked with killing Sicilian mobster Joe “the Boss” Masseria. By 1937, he moved his bootlegging and gambling operations to California, where he opened gambling dens, ran offshore casinos, and took control of existing prostitution, drug, and bookmaking rackets. Relocating his family, Siegel lived lavishly in Beverly Hills, owning a grand estate, attending glamorous parties, and mingling with Hollywood’s elite.
In the late 1930s, Siegel started dating actress Virginia Hill, and together they made a striking pair, known as much for their fiery tempers as for their glamorous style. In 1945, they moved to Las Vegas, where Siegel chased his dream of creating a gambling haven in the Nevada desert. Backed by the Eastern crime syndicate, he oversaw the construction of the Flamingo Hotel and Casino. What began with a $1.5 million budget quickly spiraled out of control, with costs soaring past $6 million. When it was revealed that much of the overspending was due to Siegel’s theft and poor management, Lansky…by then a key figure in the syndicate—was furious at the betrayal.
On the evening of June 20, 1947, Siegel was brutally killed, when a fusillade of bullets crashed through Hill’s 
living room window in Beverly Hills where he was visiting…likely he was living with her. Simultaneously, three of Lansky’s cohorts entered the Flamingo Hotel and declared a takeover. Although Lansky denied involvement in the hit, there is little doubt that Siegel was murdered on syndicate orders. In 1947 he was gunned down at his girlfriend Virginia Hill’s home at the age of 41.
On June 30, 1956, a Lockheed L-1049A Super Constellation flying as TWA Flight 2 collided with a Douglas DC-7 Mainliner operating as United Air Lines Flight 718 over Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona. The Constellation plunged into the canyon, while the DC-7 crashed into a cliff. Tragically, all 128 people aboard both planes were killed, marking the first commercial airline disaster with over one hundred fatalities. The planes had taken off from Los Angeles International Airport just minutes apart, bound for Chicago and Kansas City. The crash happened in uncontrolled airspace, where pilots were expected to maintain separation under the “see and be seen” rule, exposing the outdated state of air traffic control and sparking major aviation reforms. Similar to the “see and avoid” rule, the “see and be seen” rule requires the pilots to somehow make their presence known. Since I have been a passenger in a small airplane, where I was required, as the only other person onboard, to help watch for traffic when coming into the airport, I can say 
that “see and be seen” is not always an easy task. Planes can blend into the terrain very easily. Even when we were told where the traffic was, it took me a minute to locate it. I’m sure the pilot, my boss at the time, Jim Stengel saw it before I did, but because it took a minute for me to see it, I can see how two planes could end up in a bad situation.
On that morning, TWA Flight 2 left Los Angeles bound for Kansas City. Just three minutes later, United Airlines Flight 718 took off for Chicago. Amazingly, their paths crossed 400 miles away over the Grand Canyon, where both pilots, flying under visual “see and avoid” rules, steered around a thundercloud…TWA’s Lockheed L-1049 Super Constellation passing to the left and United’s Douglas DC-7 to the right. The “see and avoid” rule requires the pilots to take evasive action when the other plane came into view…but was there time? Probably not.
Unfortunately, the planes didn’t see or have time to avoid the danger. At 21,000 feet, the two airliners crossed 
paths, and the United plane’s left wing clipped the TWA’s tail, tearing through the rear of its fuselage. Both planes crashed into the canyon floor, killing all 128 people aboard. This was the deadliest American aviation accident of its time, and it prompted a congressional investigation and paved the way for today’s modern air traffic control system. I always find it sad that it takes a tragic loss of life to bring about change.
The naming of hurricanes is not something new. These days, hurricanes and tropical storms get names to make communication and identification easier. Before naming was common, storms were tracked by or by the year and sequence they happened, which often caused confusion…especially when several storms were active at once. Short, unique names are simpler to remember, share, and report in advisories, news, and emergency updates, helping warnings reach people quickly and clearly.
Naming storms is a tradition that actually goes back centuries. In the West Indies, hurricanes were once named after the Catholic saint’s day on which they hit, like Hurricane San Felipe. It seemed a logical way to name them at the time, but obviously the names would need to be repeated before long. By the late 1800s, Australian meteorologist Clement Wragge started giving tropical cyclones names, using everything from Greek letters and mythological figures to the names of local politicians. The naming process had taken on a life of its own, so to speak.
In World War II, United States military meteorologists casually named Pacific storms after their wives and girlfriends to make tracking on weather maps easier. I can only imagine how that went over. Some might have felt honored, while others might have been insulted. In 1953, the US National Weather Service made this system official for Atlantic storms, starting with only female names. After a while, the women began to protest and by 1979, male names were added to alternate with female ones after those calls for gender balance.
Today, the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) keeps six rotating lists of names for Atlantic hurricanes, each with 21 names in alphabetical order, skipping Q, U, X, Y, and Z. Names come back every six years unless a storm is so destructive or costly that the name is retired out of respect, like Katrina in 2005 or Melissa in 2025. 
A storm gets its name when it hits tropical storm strength with winds of at least 39 mph and keeps it if it grows into a hurricane with winds of 74 mph or more. While this system is used in the Atlantic, other regions have their own rules. For instance, Pacific hurricanes, Indian Ocean cyclones, and Western Pacific typhoons use similar alphabetical lists or names tied to local languages and traditions.
The Pig War of 1859 was a tense yet bloodless standoff between the United States and the United Kingdom over who owned the San Juan Islands in the Pacific Northwest. Despite its dramatic name, no people were harmed. The conflict arose from the Oregon Treaty of 1846, which set the United States–British border along the 49th parallel from the Rockies to the Pacific but left vague whether Haro Strait, near Vancouver Island, or Rosario Strait, closer to the mainland, marked the “middle of the channel.” The United States stance was that the Rosario Strait meant that the islands belonged to America. This uncertainty had lingered since the 1840s, with both sides laying claim to the islands.
On June 15, 1859, exactly 13 years after the adoption of the Oregon Treaty, the ambiguity led to direct conflict. Lyman Cutlar, an American farmer from Kentucky who had moved onto San Juan Island claiming rights to live there under the Donation Land Claim Act, passed nine years earlier by the United States Congress in 1850, found a pig rooting in his garden and eating his tubers (potatoes). The trouble started when Cutler shot the pig owned by Charles Griffith, an Irish worker for the Hudson’s Bay Company stationed at the island’s depot. Cutler apologized and offered $10 as 
compensation, but the British authorities responded by threatening to arrest him and expel all Americans from the island. In response, Brigadier General William S Harney sent Company D of the 9th US Infantry, led by Captain George E Pickett (who would later become a Confederate general), to San Juan on July 27, 1859, according to the National Park Service.
Governor James Douglas of Vancouver Island protested the landing, leading to the arrival of British warships to assert control. By late 1859, both nations agreed to a joint military occupation of the islands to avoid further conflict. American and British troops coexisted in a tense but peaceful manner, even celebrating holidays together. In 1871, Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany resolved the dispute in favor of the United States, awarding the 
San Juan Islands to them. The joint occupation ended in 1872, making the islands officially part of Washington Territory. The Pig War remains known as a bloodless territorial dispute that showed how something like unclear borders and incidents that follow even if one party tries not to make it a big deal, could spark international tensions, and how third-party arbitration can resolve such conflicts without war.
