May 2050 
       “It’s hard to believe that graduation’s just a week away,” thought Ima DePhuture.  She had one last major assignment - to interview Grandpa Tymer for StoryCorps.  “Imagine, his story in the Library of Congress!”

      Ima eased her roadster over a charging pad in the driveway.  Squinting in the bright sunlight, she thought, “Gramp’s photo-voltaic roof shingles will be really cranking out the power today.  I’ll charge up my car, and Gramps can top off his house batteries with plenty extra electricity to share in the community network.”

       Ole Tymer hugged Ima and welcomed her in.  He was so proud of her.  At ninety-nine years old he had lived to see his youngest granddaughter graduate.  Pouring two tall glasses of lemonade, Ole began his story.

       One of his early memories was of the coal truck delivering the winter’s fuel supply.  On those frigid winter mornings Ole wouldn’t venture out from under the quilts until he heard Mother clanking the clinkers out of the furnace in that coal dust filled corner of the cellar. With the fire freshly stoked, it was safe to venture out of bed. “Thank goodness we’ve moved beyond that messy fuel that dirtied our homes AND our lungs,” Ole reminisced.

       And speaking of energy, Ole told Ima about being a young man during the oil embargo of ’73.  “Imagine, in spite of spending billions to protect shipping lanes and to prop up sometimes unseemly governments, the great US of A was held hostage to foreign oil barons.  In many ways we had forfeited our independence because of our thirst for oil.  Thankfully, now with clean energy we can avoid all that nonsense and expense.  And the power lines!  They ran all over the place!  Almost a quarter of the cost of electrical energy was spent just to build and maintain all those lines.  Back then going ‘off the grid’ was a big adventure.  Now, of course, we’re much more efficient, and with free energy from the sun most of us generate all our own power at home.

       “You know, for so many years we were kind of ‘energy adolescents.’  And flirting with all those fossil fuel greenhouse gasses almost did us in!” chuckled Ole.  “But now we too have graduated… to a clean energy future.  And it’s a good thing because, Sweetheart, this is the only home you’ll ever know.  You’re forever…Earthbound.” 

           Stu Dent just turned 18, so when the Red Cross blood drive set up at his school he figured he’d give donating a shot.  It would be a great excuse to miss a class or two!  Stu headed to the gym, read the materials, got his temp and blood pressure checked, settled onto a cot, and rolled up his sleeve.   Then it struck him; he never did like needles all that much.  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.  He watched in fascination as nurse Wanda Yerblud scrubbed up his forearm. 

         “First time giving?” she asked sensing some apprehension.  As she readied the needle Wanda advised, “Now’s a good time to look the other way.”  Stu took her advice and turned his head as the needle pierced his skin.

        Later, in Current Events class Stu’s favorite teacher, Homer Wurck, handed out a news article from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.  It had to do with some unexpected, sudden changes to the Wisconsin Dept. of Natural Resources webpage.  “Most of the references to climate change, as well as the specific words 'climate' and 'climate change,' were no longer on the page," the article noted.  Also missing were academic citations to research on climate change and its impact on the Great Lakes region. 

        “I don’t get it.”  Jess Wundering commented as she finished reading the article. “Wouldn’t even those people who aren’t quite on board about climate change at least want to be able to learn more about it?” she asked.  “It seems like whoever made those changes thinks that by pretending something’s not there it will somehow magically disappear,” Bea Reese Onable added.  “Yeah, the DNR is in charge of protecting our natural resources.  Even without complete agreement on all the details about climate change, we should be trying to understand how it’s affecting Wisconsin’s resources,” Ed Scratcher pondered.

        In Biology class last hour Stu learned it was just a myth that ostriches avoid danger by sticking their heads in the sand, but he wondered about humans.  Earlier, when he had looked away while donating blood it made him feel a little better, but it didn’t change a thing about what was actually happening.  “We shouldn’t be playing games trying to hide from reality,” Stu thought to himself.  “After all, this planet is the only home we’ll ever know.  We’re here forever…Earthbound.”