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29 March 2008 - 18:32

the blue notebook

A wine and cheese reception, honoring six local historians.

Have we been here too long if we know half them personally?

Also know the museum director, more professionally than personally. And this is a retelling of one of the tales from her speech. One of several about the services museums provide to their communities.

One of the visitors to her museum was a young woman, in her mid-to-late twenties. Working on a local project, her notes consisting of a blue notebook stuffed with odds and ends of papers bulging out on three sides.

No organization, whatsoever.

But the director tried to help her out, trying to figure out what the young woman needed, what she already had. A hard thing to do when whatever she may have was dispersed somewhere in that blue notebook. This became a regular ritual over the weeks, with much enthusiasm on the young woman's part, and apparent patience on the director's, but not a lot of progress was made. The blue notebook just seemed to get thicker, and bulged a little more each time.

In between these regular visits came another visitor, a new resident to our town. A man in his sixties, most recently from Texas, but originally from Nebraska. But, according to the director, by the end of his personal tour, he was explaining items to her, not the other way around.

She offered him a job that first day.

And when the young woman with the blue notebook next arrived, the director handed her over to the new man.

And the two "clicked". Her enthusiasm drawn in by his knowledge, they wandered and worked through the stages of her project. And slowly, slowly, he introduced the concept of an "outline". And brought organization to both her project, and her blue notebook.

Progress was made.

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. In this case, it turned out he was one of those people, of whom we have known a few, who cannot adapt to living along the Continental Divide. The high altitude is too much for their systems, in his case bringing high blood pressure and enlarged heart. For his health, he had to move back to the flatlands, back home to Nebraska.

He died this past year. Neither suddenly, nor unexpectedly. On the stand next to his bed he left names and numbers of people to contact.

At the top of the list, the first person called with the sad news...

Was the young woman with the blue notebook.

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