Well, that was decades ago. Apparently now they have a blaring loud-speaker aimed up the hill announcing various talks and calls to see/hear/do amidst the loud chug that is the impending Sturgis crew with Harley Hogs snorting below the hill in a non-stop rumble of motorcycle horsepower.
Even atop the hill, trying to hear the quiet is an exercise in futility. The modern displays clash with my somber memories I’d hoped to share with my son.
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It would seem sometimes it would be best to leave the past alone, because now I’d forever have the modern taint left upon those distant memories. Funny – a teaching moment, possibly a better reflection of the regrets of the past than would’ve been first apparent.
(Not to knock the museum and all the displays and flashy modern memorials, but, honestly, there was something sacred back then that’s missing now in the politically correct world.)