Across The Fence: ... and a Happy New Year to all of you

In the seven days between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve most of us will, at times, find ourselves reflecting upon the events of the past year and looking forward to the possibilities of the new.

Jan. 1, 2015, was for a brief moment a blank page, a clean slate, an untraveled frontier of new beginnings and unlimited possibilities.

Many of us start each new year with eager anticipation of what might lay ahead, and others may dread the coming months. Each of us have differing circumstances and what may be an opportunity of new beginnings for some may be just another day in an unfinished journey for others. And sometimes those unfinished journeys are unpleasant.

I personally am not one for making New Year's resolutions. Over the past undisclosed number of years, I have made numerous resolutions and cannot recall a single one that was successfully achieved. Too often that clear vision of the future became obscured in a haze of changing circumstance and the goal, that seemed to lie just ahead, disappeared around an unexpected turn in the road. Not that I am one to let my life unfold by pure happenstance, without any responsible management, I do enjoy the element of surprise and the unexpected pleasure of spontaneity. As poet Robert Burns observed, "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft a-gley." Over planning leaves little room for flexibility.

Speaking of flexibility, this week, I'm going to share some personal events of this past year along with a few historical tidbits as I begin the sixth year of writing this column.

New Year's Day, being celebrated on January the 1st is a relatively new occurrence. Originally, New Year's Day was celebrated in March of the lunar calendar year, but in 46 B.C. the Roman dictator, Julius Caesar, changed all that. Caesar called on Sosigenes, an astronomer from Alexandria, to revamp the Roman calendar. Sosigenes advised adopting a solar calendar, as the Egyptians had already done. He calculated that the year was 365 and one-quarter days and added 67 days to the then current calendar making the year 45 B.C. begin on Jan. 1.

It was Julius Caesar who decreed that every four years one day should be added to the month of February in order to properly record the solar year. It was also Julius Caesar who changed the month of Quintilis to Julius (July) to honor himself. Later, Caesar Augustus changed the month of Sextilius to Augustus (August). And it was Caesar Augustus, who in the year 1 B.C., decreed that all the world should be taxed. That has not changed since.

One might wonder what could have been if the New World had remained under British rule. That could have been the case when on Jan. 1, 1781, in the midst of the Revolutionary War; one thousand five hundred soldiers from the Continental Army mutinied. Soldiers of the Pennsylvania Line, all eleven regiments under the command of General Anthony Wayne, deserted the Continental Army and joined the British forces. The early months of 1781 found more "Americans" fighting for the British than for the cause of General George Washington.

And in 1863, on the first day of January, President Abraham Lincoln took pen in hand and signed the Emancipation Proclamation. In the midst of Civil War and against strong opposition President Lincoln spoke briefly before touching the pen to paper and said, "I never felt more certain that I was doing right, than I do in signing this..."

Previously, in May 1862, President Lincoln had signed another document that established the Homestead Act. The act would go into effect on Jan. 1, 1863 and entitled any adult to file a homestead claim on 160 acres of land.

And so on the last day of December 1862, Union Scout, Daniel Freeman was sent from the battlefield with dispatches to St. Louis. Although some question whether Freeman was actually under orders, the fact remains that he was the first in line to file a claim on Jan. 1, 1863. Daniel Freeman's claim was filed on land in southeastern Nebraska, just west of present day Beatrice.

This past year 2014, Daniel Freeman's great-grandson, Freeman Campbell died in Kimball, Neb., on March 18. I met Mr. Campbell shortly after moving to the Kimball area and knew of his connection to Daniel Freeman and Nebraska history. Mr. Campbell and I had talked briefly at several community events and he had invited me to visit with him at length. He, like many others, share a direct link to our history and heritage and time spent absorbing their knowledge and stories is never wasted. Unfortunately, I never took advantage of the invitation and so missed an unrecoverable opportunity, another resolution made and unfulfilled because of chance, circumstance or unexpected turns in the road.

Although I don't ever expect to accomplish any deeds of historical significance I do however enjoy an eventful though relatively common life and this past year has been no exception. My wife, Deb, and I are always open for new adventures and exciting opportunities. Our writing and performing seems to keep those possibilities ever at hand and our travels across Nebraska and surrounding regions bring inspiration and adventure through the people we meet and the places we visit. We would both like to expand our travel horizons and Ireland and Scotland are frequent topics for discussion. Perhaps this coming year or maybe the next. In the meantime there are sites to see and adventures to be had right here in the panhandle and less than a day's drive away.

On my personal "bucket list" are the Agate Fossil Beds and the James H. Cook collection. Trips to the battle sites of the Sand Creek and Fetterman Massacres are long overdue. Fort Robinson calls for at least a two-day stay and a chance to ride the canyons and ridges in the surrounding hills. Independence Rock, the Little Bighorn battlefield and a return to Wounded Knee are also on the list. I'm hoping for research time at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln archives and the Sandoz Center in Chadron. Of course there are other items on the list and it continues to grow.

One item that I did check off was climbing to the top of Courthouse Rock. One perfect day this past November, Deb, Jamie and I drove to the rock and Jamie and I almost made it to the top while Deb cheered us onward and up. In my less mature days, I probably would have risked that last, somewhat precarious handhold that was just a little ways out of reach. But caution and an aversion to broken bones kept me near, but not quite at the top. Perhaps next year – with a rope and grapple hook.

But I also find that it's those things not on the bucket list that are often the most rewarding. These are the unplanned events that fall into the category of spontaneity. This past September, Deb and I attended my nephew's wedding in Longmont, Colo. On the way home as we neared Highway 34, I asked Deb if she had ever been up Trail Ridge Road ... she had not. A quick detour to the west and we were heading through Loveland towards Big Thompson Canyon and Estes Park beyond. As I had remembered, from previous trips, the views from this high mountain highway were spectacular. Above timberline we looked down on the clouds below and stood in awe of the majestic expanse where we were seemingly insignificant specks.

At the top, like everyone else, we parked our car and stood close to the guardrail with camera in hand. Nearby an elderly gentleman was videotaping his wife as she played an accordion against the Rocky Mountain backdrop. We listened as she played, admiring her courage in performing an impromptu concert at the top of Trail Ridge.

After finishing the piece she played, we applauded her performance and then we heard the familiar melody of the Tennessee Waltz. I turned to my bride and asked her to dance. As we waltzed beneath a sky that we could reach out and touch, our feet gliding across the sandy sidewalk, cameras began clicking and recorders buzzing as folks tried to capture the romance of a waltz at 12,000 feet. I plan to dance a great many more waltz's with my wife, but I'll never forget the Trail Ridge Waltz.

We visited with the couple that had provided the music for our romantic interlude. They were from Tennessee, she a retired schoolteacher he a retired, part-time curator of a local museum. They were traveling after his successful surgery of having one lung removed, cancer. "We were on our way home", he told us, "and were already at the Colorado/Kansas line when we realized we had missed seeing this. So we turned around and came back."

May the coming New Year be full of those things worth turning around and coming back.

M. Timothy Nolting is an award-winning Nebraska columnist and freelance writer. Contact him via email at [email protected]