There was no mistaking the ziggurat for the mountains when I looked westward. The temple glittered with reflections of the sunrise and dwarfed the adjacent Rockies. I put the van into gear and pulled onto I70. There was no precise count of how many members of the Church of the Sun were in the ziggurat,
Day: February 27, 2012
Illustration by Mark Scicluna by Christian Larsen Burge loved Klugman Hall like he loved an old friend. Smelling of generations of varnish, oil and lead paint, it was one of the few places that made him feel young, because goodness knew, he was older than just about everybody else on campus. The old building hadnโt