Firth

It was almost 75 degrees in Firth today. And it's a fine place to step outside and take a deep breath of fresh air. In 2002, my parents moved out to an acreage about a two miles outside of the small railroad town of Firth, NE. The actual town is about .3 miles in total area and used to be an old watering stop for the railroad. One day (in the 1800s) Mr. Frank Firth, the superintendent of the Atchison and Nebraska Railroad, was in these parts inspecting a newly and poorly constructed bridge that collapsed on top of him. He died tragically but left to this town, which would one day hold corn hole tournaments in the summer and become home to some of the best pasta sauce in the whole Midwest, his name.