Elmer D. Thornburg, Parker Methodist Cemetery, Holmes Co., Paint Twp, Ohio
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Elmer Thornburg, (1858-1899)

Elmer is the son of William W. and Beriah (Loveland) Thornburg. Elmer was born when Beriah was 45, quite an advanced age for the day. He is the brother of Robert Thornburg (1832-1889).

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John W. Thornburg, Parker Methodist Cemetery, Holmes Co., Paint Twp, Ohio
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John Thornburg, (1834-1870)

John is the son of William W. and Beriah (Loveland) Thornburg. He is the brother of Robert Thornburg (1832-1889).

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Robert Thornburg, Parker Methodist Cemetery, Holmes Co., Paint Twp, Ohio
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Robert Thornburg, (1769-1849)

Robert is the father of William W. Thornburg.

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William and Beriah (Loveland) Thornburg, Parker Methodist Cemetery, Holmes Co., Paint Twp, Ohio.
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William W. Thornburg, 1803-1884

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Beriah (Loveland) Thornburg, 1812-1891

William and Beriah are the parents of Robert Thornburg (1832-1889).

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Robert Thornburg, Bechtel Cemetery, Allen Twp, Hancock Co., Ohio
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Robert Thornburg, 1832-1889

Robert is the son of William and Beriah (Loveland) Thornburg.

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The Question
How did the earth get here?

Where did people come from?

Bam, pow, one after the other. Time slowed as the possible answers flowed through my mind. I lean into it, indicating that I'd take this one. It's been a good day and I've got the psychic energy left for this. I can see The Wife from the corner of my eye wondering what I will say. Taking a second, something that I usually forsake and it shows, I tried to line up my thoughts.

There are few questions whose answers are more telling about what you believe and the strength of those beliefs than these, I'm convinced. I'm not thinking that though. We still talk about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny here in a house full of little kids, but she's no longer a baby. I should get this right, it's a parental moment-of-truth. Failure to do so will surely be her spiritual gateway to existential angst, lots of door slamming, and numerous changes of career masked as 'soul-searching'. Best to be treading carefully here.

Tackling the harder question first, we discussed at somewhere above a first-grade level the relevant ideas: How a theory is not a truth, was Man created by God or descended from mudskippers, and the fossil record versus a very special week some 6,000 years ago. None of it was very deep; she's not seven yet, but since she's the oldest, we can still be surprised at her understanding.

The first question was the easier of the two. She's still at the age where it's okay to like what Daddy likes and swirling gas and coalescing nebulae are within my realm of knowledge. I checked "astronomer" as a job interest on one of those standardized tests as a teen, and lo, the girls, they did not flock to me. With this girl though, we found a video online that showed the formation of our Solar system after my basement library failed to show us the picture. Try the new "Google Parenting Tool!"

I'm not so vain that I have to congratulate myself here for being honest with my child. The point is that we get dozens of opportunities every week to influence and teach and for once, I know we got a base-hit. The answer wasn't canned, an ideologue's soundbite, but instead the acknowledgment of how vast the universe really is and that beliefs can and do vary. I've made few more succinct speeches in my life, nor felt better about anything I've written (especially here) than those minutes this evening around our table.

She then asked for another serving of baked beans.

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Failure Is Not An Option
... but finishing dead last certainly was. 5.3 miles in 82:14.

Wince.

Today's hit to my tender male psyche was brought to you by the EX2Adventures Backyard Burn trail race. Yep, I finished dead last, right in front of the nice lady, a "sweeper" in the parlance of the active set, who walked and ran behind me as I limped through this little race.

Tree roots, treacherous mud, wet leaves, splashy stream crossings; all of it I expected would add a jolly nature to a cold Fall morning run. We'd have the camaraderie of a platoon at a double-time pace mixed with the glorious grit of the Raid Gauloises. But, alas.

Mile 3 was tough, and the knee began to raise a ruckus. Around mile 4, at a long and overly steep descent, one marked "XXX Extreme Danger" or some-such, the old knee gave out and I pretty much hobbled it, cursing under my breath in pain and irritation, from there to the finish. I was able to run the flats but the downhills required crab-walking, favoring my left, and the uphills weren't much better. I finished at a run.

Hardest short race ever.

The redeeming bit was that the 10-mile race was two laps of the same loop, and since I was lapped by some of those maniacs admirable athletes (80 or less minutes for the 10 miles) it wasn't obvious to the crowd that I was dead last. Hooray for small victories (or at least camouflaged public failure!)

The season's done, back on the job in March.

I'll be taking the elevator at work tomorrow.

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Official Race Times
Times are posted for the 2006 Fauquier Half-Marathon at OTR Sports:

   Name           Age  BIB#  M/F  Finish Time
66 richard morgan 48   348    m   2:27:49
67 andrew cap     35   377    m   2:27:51

Ahem, I'm not 48 just yet. Make that 38.

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