Curtis Weber is from a monochromatic landscape where the Canadian sky blends into the rollicking fields, where the horizon is only interrupted by grain silos and round bales of hay. As a 17-year-old, he knew the fields well.
A Kansas breeze rattles Brad Livingston. A simple billow unsettles the retired laborer from Colorado Interstate Gas, when recalling a day unlike any other. “I’m fortunate I’ve never had a single nightmare being inside that fireball,” he said of Friday, Sept. 20, 1991.