A man named Kenneth Gibble tells of spending his after-school hours as a child in the feed mill where his dad worked. He enjoyed playing in the section of the warehouse where the bags of feed were stacked in deep rows.

"I loved playing games of pretend," he says, "with the feed bags becoming in my imagination hills and valleys, boulders to hide behind, dark caves to hide inside."

Sometimes one of the workers would come into the warehouse where Kenneth was playing. He would delight in spying on the worker without being seen.

"I was an Indian waiting in ambush," he fondly recalls, "I was the sheriff waiting to spring out and arrest the outlaw."

Kenneth spent many fun and imaginative afternoons in the feed mill waiting for his father to finish working. As Kenneth got older he began to rea…