By Scott Shephard

This photo is perhaps one of those pictures that needs explanation, which means that it isn’t such a great picture. But let me help you see what I saw when I made this photo.

First, you are looking at a small section of the Missouri River from a vantage point in the very southeastern park of Nebraska. On the far shore, you are looking at the state of Missouri. The river, swiftly flowing from the northwest here, takes a 90 degree turn in about 70 miles and heads to St. Louis. As Deb and I were standing close to its western bank the other day, I commented about how different the river was here compared to the Missouri I have spent so much time on or near over the last 35 years. And it occurred to me (not being particularly brilliant about many things) that this is a “real” river here. The “real” Missouri River no longer exists in South Dakota given the 4 huge dams that the Corp of Engineers built in the 1950s and 1960s.

Second, you are looking at an important piece of US history. The land I am standing on was part of the Louisiana Purchase. So, too, was a great portion of the land in my home state of South Dakota. Visible in this photo, on the near shore, is the very place where the Lewis and Clark Expedition of 1804 -1806 camped on their way northwest in search of “a way to the Western Sea.” When I stand on a bluff above the Missouri River (aka Lake Oahe, Lake Sharpe, et al.) in South Dakota, I often wonder what it would have looked like to see Lewis and Clark and The Corps of Discovery making their way north on the river below me. I also wonder what they would think if they could stand next to me and see the Missouri River as it appears now in my state. In this picture, I am seeing the river much closer to what they would have experienced. I can’t exactly tell you why that has deep meaning to me. But it just does.

There’s all of that is this photo - for me, at least. You may just see a somewhat average fall scene of hills, a river and a flood plain. And that’s OK with me. You’ll have to forgive the photographer, and the retired history teacher, for saying a little too much today.