With 1 and 1/3 revolutions around the sun since the demise of Gibberanty, a few things have changed in desolate King County, Texas. Sara Felden’s trailer was sold to a local farmer and is now occupied by various migrant workers who come up from Mexico to supply sweat and toil for harvesting cotton. The coroner died last winter, and the female prosecuting attorney has moved to Amarillo to further her career. Gibberanty’s trailer was impounded by the County to pay for the investigation of the killing that occurred there that sad night, 16 months ago. No surviving heirs were located, so the property transferred to the local government, along with his bank accounts containing $392,485, the majority from an insurance settlement due to the demise of his parents in a car wreck. New county vehicles were ordered. The trailer was hauled away and scrapped so as not to be a reminder of the “incident” that occurred in that peaceful section south of the Texas panhandle. Gibberanty’s body was cremated without a ceremony, stuffed in an old ammo box, and scattered to the winds of the high Texas plains. A man who made no beneficial contributions to society, and held no accolades, was sent scurrying to the east in a gust. His remains will be the end of a genetic lineage of a family from another part of the country and will settle into a rural ditch to supply nutrients for the life of a future noxious weed. Just how many grains of dust are out there amongst the plants that used to be unique individuals who died a long time ago? From the elements of stardust, to life, and then to soil, human evolution is a sad cycle commanded by nature and fate. Their existence is a rare event in the history of earth, and the interactions of all these people with others, driven to reproduce, cascade down through time. They create stories that are both endless and striking. The only common denominator in all this drama and performances are that the vast majority are greatly misunderstood.