 Cody Hanson, 9 years old, helps a customer pick out fresh tomatoes picked from their farm. Accompanied by his father, Lynn Hanson, along with other produce vendors, attend the weekend Farmers Market in Hastings, NE in order to sell their produce to the public.
What's the first state you think of when someone says World War II? I bet it's not Nebraska. You'd think the Cornhusker State was as far away as you could get from German soldiers, Army convoys, ammunition bunkers and bombers flying overhead.
Nebraska is, some people say, in the middle of nowhere. But it was also in the middle of the war. Huge troop trains crossed through every day - and local women greeted them with a kind word and homemade food.
Thousands of bomber pilots trained in Nebraska airfields where corn once sprouted. Many young farmwomen met beaus who later flew over France and Germany.
The nation made munitions in Nebraska and stored them nearby. You can still see the bunkers - more than a thousand of them - dotting the fields around Hastings
And Nebraska was home to more than 100,000 German prisoners of war. Many of them worked as farm hands in local fields.
 A guard tower stands in front of The Nebraska Prairie Museum in Hodrege, NE - which has an entire wing dedicated to the German prisoners of war that were held in a camp near Atlanta, NE. Many of the prisoners developed friendships with local farming residence during their stay.
"I think it was because we were out in the middle of nowhere. It would be hard for them to get very far without getting caught," said Sue Perry who grew up in Holdrege, near one of the state's largest POW camps.
Sue works at the Prairie Museum, which recently opened a new wing that portrays life at the camp in nearby Atlanta. A model in the museum showed more than 200 buildings on the site.
"I was shocked at how much land it covered," said Arden Watson of Atlanta. "It was a whole section of ground - that's 640 acres."
Faye Peterson, who was a young woman during the war, said townspeople would see truckloads of prisoners heading from the camps to the farms where they worked as laborers.
The Army didn't want the prisoners to enter the farmers' homes, but many families took them in and fed them. Prisoners returned to camp with pies and homemade bread.
Back then, Maxine and Glen Hemelstrand owned a farm in nearby Gosper County, where there are plenty of families with German roots.
"We had four to six prisoners come to the farm in the winter. They were just boys, 16 or 17 years old."
"From the very beginning we invited them into the house. I guess we just thought it was the right thing to do. They were good workers and we wanted them to have a good meal, just like us," Maxine said.
She baked something for them to take back to the camp - probably every day. "I made lots of cookies for them. They couldn't believe how well the Americans treated them," Maxine said.
Now, former prisoners often return to Holdrege to see the area where they stayed and perhaps meet some of the people who befriended them.
"This is really is where enemies became friends," Sue Perry said.
Just a few weeks ago the wife of one former POW came to Prairie Museum in search of memories. She stopped cold when she saw a large picture at the entrance to the camp exhibit. She pointed to one of the prisoners in the picture and said, "That's him!"
"She had tears in her eyes - and so did I," Sue said.
There are many exhibits at the Prairie Museum, but this section is a must-see if you're at all interested in World War II.
East of Holdrege, the Naval Ammunition Depot (NAD) in Hastings was the largest supplier of munitions to both coasts during the war. The NAD complex covered nearly 50,000 acres and employed more than 10,000 military and civilian workers at its peak. Drive through the green and yellow corn and soybean fields along Route 6 and you'll see the grass covered ammo bunkers to the south. You can't tell from the road, but they stretch back to the horizon.
Military leaders wanted bombs and ammunition stored far from the coastlines. Folks say the bunkers are arranged in lines east to west, not north to south, so that enemy planes coming from the north wouldn't have a straight row to bomb.
After the war, one of the bunkers was moved west to Arapahoe where it became the town's library and recreation center.
Sheralee Hemelstrand, Maxine's niece, attended teen dances at the center on Friday nights.
"We played records and danced. Just about the whole high school would be there," she said.
Today the bunker is an upholstery store just off Main Street.
Not far from the bunkers, World War II pilots received their final training before heading to Europe. Overnight, farm fields were converted to airports.
Thousands of pilots trained at the bases; they moved out and more arrived. The airmen often attended nearby dances and some local girls ended up marrying fliers.
To the north, military troop trains stopped at North Platte, where there was a canteen run by local women who prepared food in their kitchens and brought it meet the trains.
"They say someone was there to greet every troop train that stopped," said Aloha Zimmer, who was one of the volunteers.
"The women always had a few birthday cakes on hand for soldiers turning a year older. They appreciated that someone cared," Aloha said.
I asked her why we don't greet soldiers like that any more.
Many farms in Nebraska use Center Pivots to provide irrigation to farmland crops which would otherwise be deemed unusable without the water. Mobile towers carry a pipeline in a circle around a pivot - which automatically waters the crops.
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"It was a different time and a different feeling," she said.
We had that feeling, too. Right after Sept. 11, 2001. How did it disappear so fast?
A KOOL TOWN
This weekend Hastings, Nebraska, will once again, attempt to break its own record for the world's largest Kool-Aid stand. And why not? Hastings is known as the birthplace of Kool-Aid - except in nearby Henley, which claims Perkins invented the drink there first.
Edwin Perkins created the fruit flavored mix in 1927 and helped it grow into an empire within a decade.
"He was always a kitchen chemist. He made all kinds of salves and things," said nephew Dick Spady, who still lives in Hastings.
Dick's family still uses a carbolic salve from a batch Perkins made in the 1950's.
"We don't know what's in it, but it will heal anything," he said.
After Edwin invented the powdered drink, he put his other projects aside and concentrated on Kool-Aid (originally called Kool-Ade).
"It grew so fast, it just overcame the ability to get things shipped out," Dick said.
The company moved to Chicago in 1931, but there are no grudges in Hastings. They celebrate the product with Kool-Aid Days each summer. The festival started as a one-day event in 1997, but like the drink, just kept growing. More than 8,000 people were expected for the three-day event this weekend.
 The Kool-Aid Kid (right) was one of the first Kool-Aid's symbols when it originated in Hastings, NE. The modern day symbol (left) has become the most familiar. Although the company moved to Chicago after only a few years, Hastings still celebrates it's Kool Heritage each year with a festival.
Visitors will buy pitchers of Kool-Aid (free refills) from a stand more than 75-feet long. There will be children's games, a Kool-Aid cruise with antique and muscle cars and an edible-art contest.
"People relate to Kool-Aid because it's a family drink. The whole family is involved in making it," said Anne Rohan, of the area's tourism bureau.
After moving the company to Chicago, Perkins developed Kool-Aid pie filling, gum and even ice cream mix. But none of them matched the soft drink's success.
And his nephew, Dick Spady? After a career in minor league baseball, he returned to Hastings - and he still drinks Kool-Aid.
The ENGLISH GARDEN
Hastings seems to have more than its share of creative people, like Perkins.
While we were there, we met Harriett McFeely who built an English garden, complete with a pond, waterfall and streamlet in her back yard.
The way Harriett tells the story, she needed a job at home so she could take care of her ill mother. Out of the blue, people began asking her if they could use the garden for pictures - and they wanted to pay her.
"It was all the Lord's doing," Harriet said. He woke her up at 3 a.m. three times to tell her this was a sign. She eventually opened the garden to visitors and added a small chapel for weddings. Later she served meals to guests on her back porch.
Hmmm... three times, at 3 a.m. Very Biblical.
ROUTE 6 ON THE ROAD - LITERALLY
We also met Don Robertson in Hastings. He has 1979 Ford LTD that's also a map of Route 6 in Nebraska.
 Don Robertson of Hastings, NE shows off his "art car" which he created from a Ford LTD. The car - still in the early stages - displays the entire stretch of Nebraska's Route 6 and he will eventually place objects representing each community along the way.
On the hood you can see the buildings of Omaha and Lincoln. Then you can trace Route 6 - dotted with 26 more cities and towns - across the hood, over the roof and back to the trunk. Rivers and other roads complete the map.
Robertson said he became fascinated with Route 6 after moving to Nebraska. He grew near Route 6 on Cape Cod and couldn't believe the same small road stretched all the way to the Midwest.
He said the boxy Ford was perfect for his artwork.
"I was looking for something square and flat - like Nebraska," he said.
"And, in Hastings, I met Forrest Gump. Well, his real name is Stan Mangers, an aspiring actor who walked with me for nearly 20 miles.
But I call him Forrest, because he's full of stories and sounds a bit like Forrest, too.
"I have always wondered what life is about," he said with the hint of a drawl. "I don't wonder any more. I know there's an after-life. I just live day-to-day and do the best I can. I try to smile at everyone I meet, you never know when you might change someone's life."
For Stan, life changed when he was as in a car accident that claimed his girlfriend and left him seriously injured.
He recovered, and with his insurance money went to Hollywood in search of an acting career. He met a European film director who promised him a career, but nothing came of it.
He returned home, and keeping a vow to his departed girlfriend, ran two-to-ten miles a day for more than 130 days.
Later, Stan returned to Hollywood, where he shared drinks and conversation with actor Ed Asner in a cafe.
Home again, he became involved with the Hispanic community and wound up driving a car to Mexico for a man he barely knew. They drove along narrow mountain roads and were stopped twice by Federalis.
It was then that Stan feared that the trip might be part of a drug scheme, but it turned out that his new friend was simply giving the cars to the people of a poor mountain village.
Stan became sick (drank the water) and was returning home by bus. Police armed with automatic weapons awakened him at the border. That was Sept. 11, 2001, just after the World Trade Center attack.
Stan's bus was allowed into the country but the border closed less than an hour later.
Stan has more stories, but I can't remember them all. They do sound incredible, but you never know what to expect from someone you've just met.
After all, life is like a box of chocolates.
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