Stranded in Salt Lake

I’m heading home after a long book tour.  Montana was beautiful – from the Little Big Horn to Bozeman.  I enjoyed visiting all the locations in between those historic places.  Now comes the hard part, traveling back to California.  I’m currently an airline hostage in a steamy, overcrowded terminal in Salt Lake City, Utah.  When or if I’ll make it out of here tonight is anyone’s guess.  On my left are a couple of inconsiderate parents changing their infants urine soaked diaper out in the open for all to smell.  To my right, a rail thin woman chewing and popping one piece of gum after another and laughing and yelling uproariously into her cell phone.  Hey, lady!  It’s not a pair of tin cans connected with string.  You don’t have scream!  There.  I feel a little better.  Prior to traveling to Billings to do a signing at Barnes and Noble I imagined the event would be my last stand.  I just figured there would be a number of people there who wanted to challenge me on every point of the book.  Although the book None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead is about Elizabeth Custer’s life and her relationship with her husband, there are those who have complained on Amazon.com that I didn’t reveal any new information about the battles Armstrong Custer participated.  I thought some of those confused souls would be at the signings, but such was not the case.  It was a pleasure.  I met only kind individuals.  Until the diaper changers and gum popper I hadn’t met anyone on this journey who was thoughtless or rude.  No matter how far away I am from home the issues with Rick never go away.  The suffering is always there and it’s always tragic.  My brother Scott and I are planning to visit him in August.  I hope that lifts his spirits.  I’m grateful that yet another witness has come forward to share what they know with regards to Rick’s case.  I can’t wait until all this is made public.  What satisfaction!  Until then it’s on to the next Old West book even if I am working on it from the airport.  It’s not so bad I guess.  Maybe the gum popper will get off the phone and share a stick of Wrigley’s with the other stranded, irritated passengers.