A Hard Look at Nebraska's Immigration Issues

The Los Angeles Times has a fascinating immigration story out of Grand Island here. It's not a comfortable read, but an important one.

Kathy Lybarger's 7th Street Dance Studio

There's a place on 7th Street where nothing matters quite so much as
poise,
grace
and good humor.

It's where Kathy Lybarger has stood before generations of Alliance youngsters and taught them to feel the music, know their capabilities and to dance. It's a place where, even on the bleakest of winter days, there's always sunshine: two small arms arched overhead and occupying little dancers as their teacher slyly transitions to the next lesson.

Anyone who has attended 7th Street Dance Studio's annual spring dance recitals at the high school auditorium can't help but be impressed by Lybarger's choreography. But it is in orchestrating her classes, with even the tiniest dancers, that her talents are most apparent.

Her tuition prices are eye-popping for anyone who has ever enrolled in similar classes in a metropolitan area. She charges a mere $40 per month for a weekly class, $45 monthly for two classes per week, $48 for three classes, or $50 for four. And each student benefits from the years she has poured into this passion project that took shape in an old grocery market at the intersection of 7th and Grand. Lybarger is both owner and instructor. She is the essence of 7th Street Dance Studio, but she lets her students be the heart and soul.

There are no "difficult" students in Lybarger's studio, only children who trip her "fun meter." Any missteps or silliness are met first with laughter as light as air and then with a gentle but firm refocusing.

Lybarger conveys ease, confidence and humility that together provide the foundation for everything else she teaches: from classical ballet and tap for tots to lyrical ballet, pointe, tap and jazz dancing for her older students. Even the dancers who don't have their moves down pat come away with this understanding: One step at a time, give it your best shot and don't take yourself too seriously.


7th Street Dance Studio
Owner/Instructor: Kathy Lybarger
636 East 7th Street
(308) 762-8211

Little America Transports the Weary Traveler

Next time you plan on being in Cheyenne, Wyo., whether daytripping or passing through on the way to or from someplace else, set aside an hour or two to visit Little America. That might sound like a lot of time to spend at a roadside restaurant, but this is the type of place you'll want to savor. And with this history -- emblematic of the grit and generosity that define this part of the country -- how could you resist?

The place is not easy to find (don't let all the billboards fool you), but consider it an adventure scouting it out. It's nestled away near the intersection of Interstates 25 and 80, and you have to know what you are looking for.

Once you enter the resort, drive past the gas station and continue on toward the stately building at the top of the hill. Park near the flagpole and head for the grand (though not ostentatious) entrance. You will be greeted, to your left, by a museum-quality taxidermied penguin and, to your right, a grizzled-looking Native American mannequin sporting a full headdress and tribal garb. None of this is as kitschy as it sounds. On the contrary, my 7-year-old son was sure we'd made some mistake and walked into a museum.

That theme continues in the gift shop, which you will encounter near the entrance. There are no cheap trinkets and tchotkes here. You will find enticing exhibits of artwork, jewelry, clothing -- all of it capturing some essence of the American West.

The real attraction, though, is Hathaways.

If you are like my family, you don't travel in your Sunday best. That might make you hesitate when you turn the corner toward the restaurant and find a finely suited maitre d'. Don't worry. Little America takes all comers. It also has menu prices similar to an Applebee's, a Chili's or a T.G.I. Friday's, but the experience is incomparable.

My family of five was seated at a plush table-booth combo that had the elegant sweep of a throne or royal daybed. Above us hung a large chandelier that could only be described as both ornate and understated. It brought out our most regal manners -- for the most part, anyway.

The kids ordered off the children's menu: two hotdog takers, one fish and chips. My husband and I, marking our return to Nebraska living after more than 10 years away, ordered Reuben sandwiches, to which our home state claims the bragging rights (though some in New York quibble). The fish and chips were to come with what was described as "mixed vegetables" (which always makes me picture a mushy melange of cubed carrots, peas, lima beans and corn). The accompaniment turned out to be exquisitely roasted asparagus spears and baby carrots. We ordered a second helping.

The food was homey, fresh and delicious. The ambiance transported us to a time when men regularly wore fedoras and fine suits and women wore tailored dresses and cloche hats. The kids finished their dinners with hand-scooped ice cream served in glass goblets (included in the meal price). And the final tab: $35, plus a $7 tip.

It's good to be home.