university of rural Poland with its two colleges: the farm soil and the kitchen argument. - James A. Michener

I seen you actin’ up with your plane. Real fancy. And when I landed I asked: ‘Who’s that young duck with his pinfeathers showin’?’ and they told me it was you tryin’ out a plane you’d just bought.” He stared at LeRoy and wagged his finger: “You’re clever, but you ain’t clever enough to break the rules.” “What rules?” “Not many. Five, six? Stay away from whirlin’ propellers, they chop you into mincemeat. Never, never climb into your plane without checkin’ the gas. An empty tank is remorseless. You’ll be flyin’ into strange areas without strips, so never, never land straight in. Circle to see whether the ice is frozen or the sand strip along the river is solid. On the way out, check every visible point, you’ll need ’em comin’ back. Don’t hesitate to sleep beside your plane, because tryin’ to find your way home at night in a fog ain’t really productive. And for Christ’s own sweet sake, tie down your cargo. Keep plenty of light rope in your plane and lash down them floatin’ objects, or sure as hell they’re goin’ to smash right into the back of your head at sixty miles an hour.” As LeRoy tried to visualize the situations in which these instructions would apply, the old-timer added a special one for Alaska: “And, LeRoy, maybe you wouldn’t think of this, but in winter always keep an armful of spruce branches in the rear of your plane, tied down, of course.

I’ve invested years of my life in building a haven here, and here I will remain among my friends as each day we grow older and each month some of us falter, and each year some of us die. That was the great adventure I entered into years ago and with which I am now content.

wherever a human being goes, there is a challenge. Be the best man you can, and your gods will look with favor upon you.