In early November, we took a drive to Brookings, South Dakota (South Dakota State University) to watch our women’s soccer team play for the Summit League conference title. An invitation to the NCAA tournament was on the line. We lost 1-nil in a game that was anything other than what a soccer match should look like. Prevailing winds of 40 mph gusting to 50 turned the affair into a half-court slog. The field was laid out on a north-south axis and the wind was from the south. Almost all of the play throughout the match was on the north end, with the team having the wind to its back almost always on offense, an 11 on 11 mash-up. Their best goal opportunity went in, a bouncer over our goalie.  Ours did not, snagged in a dive by their keeper.  We played well and hard.

  The ride to Brookings was a fun one. We stayed off the interstate highway, the 29, from Omaha to Sioux City, Iowa. Many of you have never been to Nebraska and if you have you’ve probably only made it to Omaha or Lincoln. The drive from Omaha on Highway 275 then north on Route 77 is quite scenic. There are gently rolling hills and at this time of year almost all of the trees have turned. Still, the remaining gold, brown, and dark red colors stood out on the sun-filled day. Not all of the corn in northeast Nebraska had been harvested, so we saw farmers and their combines in the fields working away and filling up the eighteen-wheelers that haul it off. We enjoyed slowing down and passing through a good number of small towns, each with its own layout and architecture. Most showed ample signs of life although there were a few that appeared to be very tired.

  Our favorite town on route to Brookings was Homer, Nebraska. Yes, it’s named after the Greek dude. No, they don’t recite any poetry on the town square at least to our knowledge. The population is small, just over 500 souls. It’s tidy, looks a bit lively, and was the home of Al Capone’s, old Scar Face, brother James. James did not want to be part of his younger brother’s gang. So, he slipped out of Chicago, changed his name to Richard “Two Gun” Hart, and became a prohibition agent in Native American territory, a Marshall and a Justice of the Peace, not all at the same time. He never even told his wife who he was until forced. Later, he was located and had to travel to Chicago to testify at the trial of his brother Ralph who had been charged with tax evasion. Richard died soon after the trial and is buried in Homer.