Dick Duerksen

Camp meeting is marked by planning, anticipation, exertion, exhaustion and spiritual uplift.

“Really?” I responded in starving amazement.

Let’s call him Isaac because that’s not his name. He lives in a sweatshirt, a hoodie that hides his eyes so he can feel invisible. But, he’s not invisible; he’s just hiding. It’s rather like putting on a mask and pretending to be blind, deaf, unab...

“If I go to heaven immediately when I die, why stay alive?”

The “For Dummies” books have made a ton of money for writers and publishers. There are scores of titles, each one describing complex tasks in simple language. They’re the go-to books for those of us who get lost in the 12-page/five-language direct...

“And, finally, Lord, please bless the missionaries and the colporteurs around the world.”

I was looking for elk hide, enough to make a new set of buckskins for the Fort Bridger Mountain Man rendezvous. A banker friend, who looked like a 1920 fur trapper, recommended I “wander up to St. Maries, Idaho, and see my friend Lars Eidnes. He’s...

He was a hunter, a Siberian Yupik who lived in the village of Savoonga on St. Lawrence Island in the western half of the Bering Sea. An American, living 30 miles from Russia. A First Nation hunter, dying from the white man's disease, tuberculosis.

Each morning about 10, I walked through the Gladstone campground to the Junior tent where life was going full throttle. Along the way I prospected for gold nuggets at the Butterfly playground, was thoroughly tempted by the fragrance of fried Pront...