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Sunday, October 12, 2008 Browse The Bulletin archive index
Updates -
Update -- great grandparents visit en route to meet Alexa On Tuesday of this week, we again found it nice to live by "Highway 94," right on the way to everywhere! These visitors were on their way to help Marlee with her rummage sale AND, of course, to get their turn at holding Alexa and getting their picture taken with her... Jettison had been spending some time with Aunt Merna and Uncle Ken Hellevang in Fargo. He enjoyed playing with our Lego helicopter and was not too anxious to get his picture taken at our house ... but he did let them take his picture with the group (which was better than his Great Aunt Dorothy (that's me) -- who was not to be persuaded).. Jettison and Aunt Merna were riding along with the grandparents, who have newly become great grandparents, and were on their way to visit Alexa ... and then they were to return Jet to his parents and stay to help out with Marlee's rummage sale. Perhaps we will hear more about that later.
Update -- Ginn's progress Well, here we are with close to the final update on Virginia's progress. She is doing great. (She declined to have a photo taken). She had her semi-final exam with the surgeon, who was well pleased with her healing. Today was her first day of therapy to learn how to walk and gain strength. She has been using a walker, and now is using a cane more. She can get around quite well, like for shopping, but she tires quickly. Right now, she can't manage basement stairs, but that's okay, it means I won't have to clean down there for a while. Next checkup is in four months; by then we hope she'll be 100% normal. (Sure can tell Rufus isn't around, he'd certainly have some comment to that!) Daughter Jane and her "can-do-and/or-build-anything" husband, Romaine, came down to the cities from Browerville (near Long Prairie) and built the ramp one Saturday before Ginn came home. It would have been near impossible without it.
Update -- Jazmine Hill competes in national tractor pull Jazmine competed at the National Pedal Tractor Pull at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota, last weekend. There were 17-20 5-year-old girls in her division. She ended up getting 6th place -- only 1 inch behind the 5th place finisher (the last place they give trophies). Jazmine worked hard and had fun, too!
Update -- what cats do when their owners are away The grandkitties have had to amuse themselves for the past couple of weeks while their people, Kyra and Ken, spent considerable time away. The cat sitter saw to it that they got fed, but it's not the same, you know. According to my sources, no one took any unauthorized field trips this time, and no more baths in the tub, but they were glad to see Kyra and Ken return home. Kyra said: I just got back from Chicago. We celebrated Ken's birthday there early in the week and I stayed on for a corporate event. At the company dinner, the conversation turned to families and I had occasion to do the math and discover that I've known Ken for half his life. Oh my! For the rest of the evening I enjoyed an "Isn't that sweet?" feeling without adding any calories to my plate. Of course, there isn't much else you can do with this type of information except create statistical comparisons and annoying algebra problems. Ken has an edge in the first category -- he's known me for 54% of my life. Any good algebra problem needs a red herring, so I should mention that we've both known the grandkitties for 88% of their lives. We didn't take any field trips, either. There was excitement enough at home. Two weeks ago, we had men on the roof, fixing broken skylights and replacing shingles that had been damaged. The last of the gardening got done last weekend, just in time, because it snowed. We were all settled in for winter when fall came back with a vengeance ... bringing winds over 100 miles per hour and rain. The snow melted down as fast as the stock market. The wind ripped more shingles off the roof (before we even got the bill for the previous repairs) and broke big boughs off our spruce trees, so today Miss Jerrianne had to trim the broken branches and clean up the storm's mess. In the meantime, she caught a news story that said Alaska's Governor Sarah Palin, the vice presidential candidate, was distantly related to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. "Their common ancestor is Rev. John Lothrop, who came to Massachusetts in 1634," according to the Associated Press. She had to laugh, because that cat's in her family tree, as well ... so I guess she and Governor Palin must be related, too. Not exactly "kissing cousins," you know, but some kind of distant cousins. As that jazz pianist Fats Waller said, "One never knows, do one?"
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The Matriarch Speaks W Who Is This? Let's Play a Guessing Game: Whenever it is handy to do so, we will run a picture of someone of the subscribers or staff members of our e-magazine. Tell us who you think it is -- we will let you know who was the first to guess it right -- and the correct guess -- in the following week's Bulletin. (Send us some to run; we will line them up in our staging area to take their turn. LeRoy Dake supplied last week's mystery photo. ![]() How many can you identify? Answers to last week's mystery pictures (click here to review them): Editors' Note: Correct guesses appear in bold face type and incorrect guesses in normal type ... generally in the order we receive them, so the first guess received is on top. The guess picture is of the Harry and Cleo Anderson family. Others are Donald, Harry Jr., Dwight, DeLoris, and Mavis Morgan. Elwood and Elaine are not on here. Maybe Elaine was away at Valley City. Elwood likely in service. Possibly the summer of '47. Maybe taken in Hannah and Jean's yard? Elaine Anderson Wold Editor's comment: You do have everyone identified -- but this photo was taken at the William and Amy Dake home. The Andersons had come to meet the Dakes before the wedding of their son Donald to Dorothy Dake ... and the picture was taken in July of 1950 -- probably by LeRoy Dake. A guess: The Anderson family: Uncle Harry, Aunt Cleo, Junior, Mavis, Delores and Donny (Elaine and Elwood aren't pictured). The smiley guy in front is, of course, Dwight. Just guessing Dwight's age on the picture, I'd say the picture is about 55 years old. Art Mitzel I must enter the guess picture as I am very sure I know those featured. Back on the left is my dad, Harry Anderson Sr.; my mother, Cleo Anderson; myself, Mavis Anderson Morgan (note those saddle shoes, which I really liked) from the middle of the 19th century. Next is my sister DeLoris Anderson and then my big brother, Donald Willie Anderson. In the front is my brother Harry Glen Allen Anderson, Jr., with the western shirt and belt, and then my little and youngest brother, Dwight Douglas Anderson, with the Sunday bibs and happy smile. Dwight was one of the most content and well behaved children and it's maybe because I got to rock him a lot when he was little. I am glad someone sent this picture in as I did not know it existed. Mavis Anderson Morgan I must admit I held my breath about what the GUESS/ MYSTERY picture would be. I was sure I wouldn't be able to make a right guess, but when I saw it, I immediately knew that was Cleo Anderson and the family. I wonder if it's Mavis and Elaine with Don, and then the two younger brothers I really don't know? I still can't make Cap'n Jack out of that picture with the guitar the previous week. I wonder how young he was at that time? Betty Weiland Droel Tee hee! I called my dad as soon as I saw it [the mystery picture in Bulletin 328] and said, "Is this you?" He said, "You're supposed to guess in The Bulletin!" But then he confessed it was. I recognized it was him but never saw it with all that fancy color before! [Ginny McCorkell, a.k.a. Bitzi, jazzed up Capt. Jack's photo just for us. --Ed.] Thanks for always sending The Bulletin to me. I do occasionally know people in there! Amy Adair Eckel Amy is Amy Eckel and she is Capt. Jack and Virginia's daughter. (We met their other daughter, Jane, on their Alaska cruise.) Amy and Ted and Emily, Elana, Ethan and Ember live at Long Prairie. --Ed.
Larry McCorkell sent us a manuscript he transcribed from his father's tape recorded memories and made it available to The Bulletin for a series of excerpts. These stories were originally tape recorded by Bruce McCorkell of his growing up days on the homestead near Effie in northern Minnesota. They were recorded from a period of the mid 1980's until the early 2000's. These are Bruce's words of happy, sad, funny, good, and hard times.
MICE At home, the old log house on the homestead didn’t have any insulation in the attic. It had half-inch lumber for a ceiling and then my mother had papered it with paper. We had a hole to climb up in the attic. We used to put the onions up there to dry in the summer time or in the fall. I used to have to take them out of there before it would freeze. I don't know if we had a lot of stuff stored up there either really. I can't remember that part. The mice were something else again. There were all kinds of mice up there. It was nice for the mice in the wintertime because it was probably warmer up there than it was downstairs. It was cold. It was really fun at night to lay there in bed and listen to those little mice up there playing. You could almost tell the size of them by the patter of their feet on the boards up there. You'd hear one go, "clump, clump, clump, clump." You know that'd be grandpa for sure. Then you could hear the little mice going. Their footsteps were a lot closer together. They'd be running and playing and you could hear them squeaking. I often wished I could watch them play and wrestle around there. They'd have quite a session there. Almost every night you would hear them. I suppose the old mice would come downstairs and raid the cupboard and bring stuff back for the kids to eat. Ah, that was really funny. My ma and her trapping. She used to trap mice. It was impossible to keep the mice out of the building. You didn't even try to do that, but when they got too thick so they were starting to carry you away, then you started trapping. That was really something. You could hear them running back and forth and then you'd hear an old mouse run clear across the ceiling, "clump, clump, clump, clump, clump" and maybe a few little ones pattering along behind. Those were the good old days. Now, if you get one mouse in the house, why, they have a conniption. MOUSE IN PANTLEG Along with all the things that we didn't like to do, which is normal for anybody, I guess, was hoe and pull the weeds and cultivate the corn. There were some funny things that happened in between, to kind of make life worth living. We always had two or three haystacks beside the barn. Dad would put some logs down on the ground to keep the hay off the ground completely. There would always be a few inches of hay left on these logs that would be kind of moldy and rotten. The hay would be gone and we'd be getting ready to put new hay on there, so we'd have to clean off the haystack bottom. Dad would always have the wagon up there with the hayrack on it and we'd be throwing that old rotten hay on there. One time David and I and Dad were out there and all of a sudden I looked over there and Dad dropped the fork and grabbed his pantleg with both hands. He was doing a little jig around there and here a mouse had run up his pantleg and got up there a little above the knee before he got it cornered. That was really funny. Oh, were we ever tickled, David and I. We thought that was really hilarious. Travelogue t
Huayhuash Trek Of Peru Getting Out After 11 days, we are all ready to get back to civilization. Nicol wants us on the trail by about 5 a.m. so we are back to his village by 10:30 a.m. to catch the daily bus out. We awaken at 4 a.m., no hot tea today, and quickly dismantle our tent and pack up so Nicol can load the mules. We stand around for a long period of time as Nicol seems to be having difficulty gathering the mules in the dark (no wonder). It than takes a long time to get the packs tied on in the dark, working with ropes with bare hands and 20 degree temperatures. There is nothing much we can do, other than hold lead ropes and shine a light for him. Finally we are ready to go, but unfortunately there is a locked gate at the crossing to the river. Nicol has to find and awaken whoever has the key and this takes another 15 minutes or so. Then we have to navigate across the river in the dark, with just our headlamps to illuminate the large rocks. This was not a big deal in the daylight coming in but was much trickier in the dark. A slip and fall into the cold water would not have been pleasant. We all make it across without slipping or falling. A quick hike up a long pass and then a steep descent and we are back in Pocpa. Nicol has hurried ahead and his daughter has prepared a snack for us. We are invited into her one-room house and offered seats at a small table. There are two beds visible, one at each end of the room, and a ladder leading up to the loft. There is an electric cord leading to a single hanging light bulb in the center of the room. The floor is dirt. We are served tea, two types of hot boiled potato and a delicious village cheese. One potato is shaped like a carrot and is much sweeter than a sweet potato. As we are eating, a dog comes in; after it is shooed away, a chicken wanders in a short time later. We are impressed by Nicol and his daughter's desire to feed us this delicious lunch and to let us into the shelter of her simple home. The bus shows up around 10:45 a.m. By this time, there is another group of four trekkers and all of their gear and us and all of our gear, plus a few villagers. Instead of the large 25- to 30-passenger bus that brought us here, the bus is a Toyota mini-van. The driver is frowning and indicating that he does not have room for all of us as there are other people waiting at the next village that also need to get on the bus. After Nicol and Kjirsten, as well as the other group, all argue and plead with the man, he gives in and indicates that we can throw our gear up on the roof. The other group's gear goes up and then our gear goes up. The luggage rack is not large and the gear ends up piled three layers deep but it is on, and we are in, and that is what matters. The next bus would be tomorrow, 24 hours later, and the wait would be bad, after having hopes of our second bath in 12 days later this evening. At the next village, an unbelievable number of people pile in and I can count at least 20 people, plus all of the luggage. I hope the tires are in good condition as I look at the steep drop off down to the river, far below the narrow, winding road. I notice there is a steel roll bar inside the van but doubt that would help much if we were to go over the edge. After a two-hour ride, we reach the next village and transfer to a much larger bus that gets us back to Huaraz by late evening. There is a sense of sadness that the adventure is over but the memories will linger for a very long time.
Mitzi's Journal We packed up in the dark and took off by the light of headlamps and stars. Nicol wanted us to hike as fast as the mules up the pass so we wouldn't get lost. It was not a fun way to start the day, but at the top of the pass it was light and we could see our destination. He let the mules go faster down the mountain and when we arrived he invited us for a quick lunch. We went to his daughter's adobe house, where we were served hot boiled potatoes and another root vegetable that tasted like a cross between carrots and sweet potatoes, soft cheese and tea. We were starving and appreciated the delicious lunch. While we ate, a chicken and a dog wandered in. There was a tiny lamb just outside the door and the mules and Pancho Negro, Nicol's horse, were licking mineral blocks in the courtyard. A Toyota bus arrived and our gear was piled on the roof, after a long discussion with the driver, who didn't think he had room for everyone. We smelled awful, but so did several other people. We were thankful to have a seat and anxious to get back to Huaraz for showers. It was necessary to change buses in Chiquián and once again we got the last seats on the bus. We celebrated the end of our trek with dinner at a wonderful Swiss restaurant and then met with Rodrigo to plan our next adventure. To be continued...
$ A Long Time Ago !
Appalachian Trail Trek: October 1973 The first six months were the hardest ... by the time we finished the trail in Maine and September gave way to October, we were pros -- and at least part of the time we were all on the same page. A food box went astray because we had left a forwarding card at the post office when we were hiking in the opposite direction and so it was sent back. No problem. We had it sent ahead. We made up four days of menus on the spot and bought the necessary food at the grocery store. When it was time to skip around the part of the trail we had already hiked south to north, we dressed in our red shirts so we looked like a team and thumbed rides with "leaf peepers" at the height of New England's glorious autumn display. We weathered setbacks, like the polluted water we got from a spring near a ski resort. And when Kyra pulled a baby tooth and put it under her pillow with no results, she wrote a note and tacked it to the shelter wall: "Dear Tooth Fairy, "Yesterday I pulled a tooth and slept with it under my pillow all night long and it was still there this morning. I hope you didn't have trouble following the trail. I will be at Gulf Shelter tonight. Please forward my dime." We weren't setting any records for speed ... well, maybe for the SLOWEST speed, or lack of speed, but we were getting good value. Finally, it seemed, we were seeing what we came to see.
"But slow going made the trail last longer. Trees had gone wild by then, dazzling us wherever we walked with bursts of red, yellow, and orange. Leaves lay all along the trail. A new year's leaves, each a small portrait of fall. Shelter settings were especially picturesque. Morning and evening sunlight slanted into those secluded hollows, lighting each leaf and setting trees ablaze. We often sat merely watching the changing scene. "And so we passed into October. Feeling better at last [after accidently drinking polluted water from a spring near a ski resort], we started climbing along Frye Brook the morning of October 3. Ahead was Baldpate, our final mountain in Maine. "Following stone slabs that formed the creek's course, passing waterfalls, flumes, and clear, deep pools, we made our way up the mountain. We walked in no hurry. Rain in the night had left colors muted in soft morning fog. The forest had a look of magnificence, once again different from anything we'd seen. "We stood in fog on the summit. Lichen-crusted rock paved the dome beneath us, broken by patches of black moss and waving tufts of grass. Clusters of small, wind-twisted spruce led off into the mist. Red-leafed blueberry lined the path, along with other plants bearing leaves of rust to dark green. Water drops splattered leaves and hung and dripped from branches. "I experienced again what I'd felt on Saddleback. I found that mountaintop garden more lovely, more comfortable, more welcoming than any city home could be. We might have seen Old Speck, the Mahoosucs, or White Mountain Presidentials from there on a sunny day. I preferred fog. Views near at hand were also rewarding. "'Going to the woods is going home,' John Muir had said. I understood it now. I felt it. I treasured it as a discovery all my own. In her way, Jerri had been showing and telling me the same thing all along. But I couldn't have just taken her word for it and felt the same way. "We descended barren ledges and walked carefully through quicksand bog to Baldpate's third summit. The trail dropped two thousand feet to the highway from there, to Maine 26, where we'd been thirty days before. We reached it at dusk. Finding no rides in the rain, we returned to the lean-to we'd passed a quarter-mile back. "'Another night on the poles,' I said to Kyra. "'Hmmph,' she replied. The night before was to have been the last. "'We'll get a ride in the morning. It's fifty miles to Gorham, y'know. We wouldn't have made it in the dark anyway.' "'It's okay,' she said. 'But I want a real bed in town.'" --from Walking North, by Mic Lowther.
Celebrations & Observances This Week's Special Days This Week's Birthdays This Week's Anniversaries More October Birthdays More October Anniversaries October Special Days Miss Hetty's Mailbox: Dear Miss Hetty, Thank you for the e-card. I saw it tonight when I was over at Mom and Dad's for dinner. I had a nice day at work where the staff got a cake for me and they bought me lunch. Thanks again. Steven Anderson
I got so excited when I saw that eye catching story of the RED CHAIR Antiques. I can hardly wait to take a leisurely drive up there and check it all out for myself. Both Roy and I enjoy antiques, (maybe because we are antique ourselves), so hopefully we can do that soon. We will check to see the hours it is open when we do get opportunity to go. Can't you just picture their fun of arranging it all just so, and then adding to it, and watching the items sell? Thank you for the special write up so we know about it. Betty Droel
Keep Us Posted! Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?
'Many Thankse
Everyone! Miss Hetty + LETTERS TO THE EDITORS? Click here to review last week's Bulletin It was fun to see Donnie and Patty’s latest endeavor! They sure know how to do things right! Be sure to have them keep us all posted of their upcoming open dates! I loved the Chuckles photo of Jayce and Jordan! Lori Ostendorf Donna Mae said, "I agree, that turned out so cute! Loved it!" Last Week's Bulletin Review JKL Every time I write the number of The Bulletin I had just read, I can't believe that it is that many: #329. How quickly the weeks fly by, as it seems not long ago it was in the 250's. We are very fortunate The Bulletin is still being made as it is six years already. I always feel a thrill to scroll down slowly while the first picture comes into view on the screen. Those startling red berries really caught my eye and attention, and then I see the little black ones in the background. Each one has their own beauty and usefulness. The leaves are so different and individual. Gives one a solemn deep appreciation for the creator of such a masterpiece. The branch, the leaves, the berries all have life of their own, and they all have to be connected to live. Oh dear, I think I'm getting sentimental now. I had better change the subject. It's easy to change the subject as the very next thing that scrolled up was the soon to be famous Red Chair Antique Shop. What a clever motto or icon or whatever that would be called! Red Chair, complete with one mounted over the door. I am seriously thinking it will be worth a drive up there to check it out. Roy and I both enjoy antiques. Maybe because that era was our growing up years. We loved seeing the pictures inside and outside. We will be needing updates now of how business goes and grows. I wouldn't be one bit surprised to hear Judy is making a trip to Ecuador while Rachel is there. Judy is so interested in everyone and everything, and I have to smile, thinking that she may be making new clients as soon as she learns to communicate with them. She is extremely clever. It wouldn't take her long to learn Spanish. Rachel gave us a lot of information, too, as she answered Judy. Such a good picture of Brooklynn and her blue eyes. The fishbowl would be a lot of work to maintain, but the children will be learning new and lifelong lessons from it. Happy Birthday, Brooklynn. Can it be that long ago that Mason was introduced as the new baby at the Ben Henderson's? And now Logan is added, too, and I find those two names go so well together. They are easy to say: Mason and Logan Henderson. What a lot of work to make a move like that, but that effort is soon forgotten when you begin to enjoy the freedom of the new home and huge yard. Oreo is one fortunate, cool cat. Doesn't he look white and fluffy? You could just want to reach out and pick him up. BUT, maybe he wouldn't agree. How can I ever thank Miss Kitty for taking time to sit at the computer to answer my questions about Miss Jerrianne corralling two cats to give them a bath? Well, now I have the word picture and the photo of just how it's accomplished. Just leave them alone, and they will do a better job of it on their own. I got interested in the pillow behind Mai Tai. Is that hand embroidered? [Yes, by Kyra, when she was a youngster.] So Uncle Jim Miller was here recently. He likes Florida, I am sure, but there just isn't anyplace like home. At least where the roots are. Looks like Donna Mae and Beaver's sunroom is coming along fast now. It will likely be very livable before winter sets in. Imagine the big windows looking out onto the snow in the winter and leaves in the spring and fall. Will you have a fireplace in there? Or is the basement one sufficient? I was as thrilled as a little kid when I found the web site for roses you had directed us to. It will be a winter project to research all of those pictures of roses. They are so beautiful and sharp. The graphic illustration in words that Bruce gave us about the bears killing the pigs was so interesting. You could just see all this happening. The men on the barn roof with their guns aimed just right, and they got the culprit. At least that one. One time I was on the #1 highway between Ely and Finland when a huge moose lumbered up onto the highway and ran alongside our big station wagon. It was so huge we could only see the side of it. I thought it was a lark to be chasing a moose, but my friend and passenger was terrified, knowing it could have charged the car. One doesn't forget those close calls like Bruce's. It was very special to have the Greetings from the Netherlands by Ary this time. I see W-O-R-K in those pictures, even before I see the beauty. They certainly put a lot into their displays and seem to know how to enhance the plants with various pots and settings. All those boxes to be opened and arranged sound like a lot of creative planning and hours of details. We are enjoying this trek of Peru. Strange how those beautiful, giant lupine flowers/ bushes grow there, seen only by someone on a trek like the Swensons'. I find it so hard to even picture having a lunch of rehydrated food on a steep mountain hillside. I have to believe it was "delicious." I have to say that the picture of the Germans fishing was awesome. The flat land amidst the huge wall of mountain and the stream they were fishing in is almost unimaginable. Rising at 4 a.m., can you picture what the scene would be with the sunrise on the flowers and mountains? It would be rewarding for the effort to have made it possible to reach the Huaraz bus. Then, we are still able to enter into the trek A Long Time Ago. I don't want that account to end. The picture of Mic presiding over the area looks like just a pile of rock to my eyes, but to the Lowthers it would be a monumental moment. It was very descriptive the way Mic opened his heart about his feelings there in the middle of nowhere. His feeling more a part of that innocent world of nature than in his own world. The discovery of his inner self that he'd kept well disguised as he fit into his natural life's situations. The book, Walking North, is certainly worth reading from cover to cover, keeping in mind that this young family were walking from Georgia to Maine, taking months and months. Keith and Lori, please know that we were more than thrilled to find your story of the third anniversary. It doesn't seem very long ago that we were enjoying the story of your wedding, and you two still look deliriously happy, all dressed up and enjoying a view from your table like that, plus the lighted candle on the cake. It would have been nice to hear about your home and jobs and home area, so feel free to share even more with us at your next opportunity. Louise and Jess Cloyd, you could give us some more details about those fall colors in the Ozarks. We who have never been there are very content with the beauty of what is right outside our back door, but we are well aware of each area having its individual beauty of nature. Sorry, Ruth, I missed that number of your class reunion -- 64, not 65. But as you say, what is one year amongst so many! I just couldn't quit looking at the CHUCKLES this time. The expression on Jordan's face is priceless, and perfect for that caption of "We've been found!" So funny that Jayce couldn't understand how anyone found out when they carried their crackers so carefully. I still laugh when I see that picture. Yes, October's bright blue weather is a once a year, last showing before the cold, icy winds blow as another Minnesota winter begins. Even the Quotation for the day is something very special as part of The Bulletin. Thank you once more for this, another Bulletin we couldn't lay down until the last word of the last page, or until the last line scrolled down to emptiness. Betty Droel and Roy, too. CHUCKLES
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Quotation for the day: In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. --Albert Schweitzer EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is dma49261@juno.com This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.
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