So in a monster movie, what happens after the smug guy smirks, “Well, we’re safe now.” It’s totally predictable: The monster lunges out of the black shadows and swallows him whole.
The flash flood that roared off the steep hillside above Houston Mesa Road on Sunday once more underscored the grim lessons in ecology that we’ve so persistently ignored.
The Payson Town Council continues to treat the urgent need to protect this community from wildfire with an inexplicable indifference.
Bad news for the Christopher-Kohl’s Fire District board.
Want proof voting matters?
The Payson Town Council election has taken a strange and interesting turn.
What happens when lawmakers turn lawless?
The Star Valley Town Council this week gave a courteous and thoughtful hearing to Payson’s request the town de-annex more than 700 acres of Forest Service land to facilitate the possible development of an 80-acre industrial park out at the end of Granite Dells Road.
We were pondering the latest evidence that the Payson School Board has made an awful mistake, when we suddenly found ourselves recalling this terrible experiment involving “learned helplessness.”
You’re starving, half delirious and hallucinating a sizzling steak on the grill. The U.S. Forest Service wanders by, sees you’re hurting and earnestly offers you a stale granola bar. Should you eat it?
We had our doubts: More of a panic attack, really.
The Payson School Board last week did some much-needed soul-searching, determined to extract lessons from a fiasco of leadership that will benefit the district’s 2,400 students.
The monsoon has finally started, likely putting an end to another frightening fire season.
Today, we celebrate our nation’s birth in hope and pain. The Continental Congress formally adopted the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, after a year of growing conflict forced them to finally abandon hope Great Britain would ever grant the 13 colonies the rights they sought.
A year ago this week, 19 firefighters died in a holocaust of flame in brush that hadn’t burned in 50 years. The bells tolled for them across the state on the one-year anniversary of their deaths and the emergency frequencies sounded a tone for them at the hour of their deaths.