Two years ago, we found ourselves in New York City, in a dusky interval between touchdown at La Guardia and departure on a bus for an upstate Navy base. Bustles of Christmas shoppers morphed into throngs as we skirted Madison Square Garden, and, being from western Colorado, we were at once dazzled and overwhelmed. We sought refuge in Central Park. We roved its elegant, tree-laced promenades, watched by thousands of shining windows that disappeared into the ever-darkening sleet. As we walked back to the Port Authority, somewhere near Times Square, we saw, on a digital news feed, that Joe Cocker had died. And I suddenly understood, in a way that maybe I could not have if I were here at home in Delta County, why he loved it so much here.
Thank you, Crawford ... It has been a privilege to teach in your community. Your children have embraced the influx of children from other communities with friendship and grace. You have made me feel loved and supported, from the fundraisers to the landscape cleanup to the daily volunteering. You are an extraordinary community. I love Crawford!