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John Kinnear photo
Bluebird nest with four abandoned eggs and one tree swallows egg
I promise. No snide comments or hand wringing about 2020 and what a shit show of a year it has been. We all know that. How about I just wander through what little I had to offer column-wise in this apocalyptic year and try and keep it light. As many of you know my own personal catastrophe unfolded in this, a most unforgettable year. The only thing that keeps me sane these days in a different kind of light. Bud Light. Let’s go back then to a year ago in January where I started off the year column-wise by recounting the story of the March 1964 Ostash tragedy. It is a tale of the terrible consequence of improper ventilation after the then on-going conversion of furnaces from coal to natural gas. I remember being struck by the fact that not four months before it unfolded, on Christmas Day, the Ostash’s had a baby girl come into their lives which they appropriately named Noella Joy Eve.