These are slices of Kansas life through the decades that would have otherwise gone unnoticed or been forgotten.

These are Hattebergs people.

They took care of us and now it's our turn to take care of them.

Karen and Nick Blasio backed up their words with actions.

See how they cared for Karen's ailing mother with patience and love while also keeping the family business running.

Also.

It's like a natural high.

You know, like people will jump out of planes for it and people will light themselves on fire.

And I'll just go and play my saxophone on stage in front of a thousand people and just get that rush.

And audiences were equally thrilled.

Ben Kincaid was a jazz prodigy, a master of the sax at a very young age.

In 2002, it looked like the sky was the limit for this talented teen.

But the highs of life are too often met by the lows.

We'll celebrate the life of this impressive and much loved young man coming up.

Plus.

I was just being a mom trying to find a way to teach our kids something that I felt needed to be done.

MARGARET Dominic wanted all kids to realize there's something different about everybody.

See what she did and how her kids reacted to it.

And we'll have this story.

My mother said one time I was born on Saturday, so I'd have to work all my life.

He was the oldest judge in American history, serving at the federal courthouse in Wichita into his 104th year.

It's an up close and personal look at Judge Wesley Brown, who just kept on going.

Hello again.

I'm Larry Hatteberg.

And I'm Susan Peters.

Those are just some of Larry's classic stories that are queued up and ready to roll.

On this edition of Hattebergs People.

These stories are like old friends.

Their lives radiate from the screen, like prophets of the past.

They were teachers, but not in a classroom.

Instead, they taught about life to those around them who cared to listen.

And I was their student.

Old age brings with it an array of illnesses and infirmities that can take the shine off of our golden years.

Sure can.

But the extent to which we suffer can be greatly affected by those who surround and take care of us.

Our first story comes from Kingman, Kansas, where Karen and Nick Losey were determined to do right by Karen's mother.

They strove to keep her as comfortable and content as possible in the final chapter of her life.

You have to keep in mind that you're you're you're dealing with 135, £145 infant.

So, you know, there's something up there at time.

But what?

Who knows?

In downtown Kingman, Kansas, it is business as usual on this day, but at a clothing store called Errands.

Customers are sometimes startled to see 82 year old Alzheimer patient Nettie Ochsner asleep in a big chair, asleep among the racks of clothing and stylish fashions.

The friends that come in here always kind of gravitate to her, and I kind of watch them at times because they'll always talk to her, knowing that they're not going to get an answer.

Karen and Nick Lucio own this store.

Nettie is Karen's mother.

It's lunchtime and you go Good shop at noon.

Karen picks her mother up to take her home for lunch.

You just do it.

It's the thing to do.

They took care of us.

And now it's our turn to take care of them.

They're in good health, like mothers in very good health.

It's just her, her mind.

And she's had this for about 12 years.

We feel it's still we still have our wish.

We still ladies go on across the street and interact with her.

You know, it's it hasn't been a hardship.

Yeah.

You're doing a good job.

No, I don't want it.

That's yours.

If you're going to do something like this, you have to take the whole family into consideration.

At night, I usually sit here for about an hour.

It takes her about an hour to eat.

I know.

Every night before she goes to sleep, after I put her in bed, we always say the Lord's Prayer and she'll look at me.

And then sometimes she smiles.

You just feel like she really understands.

Remembers that prayer.

In the early afternoon, Nettie stays home with Rosemary Latham.

She's with the Kingman County Council on Aging.

Rosemary gives the Lazy O's a break until Karen takes Nettie back to the store in the late afternoon here and then works till closing.

Like I said, you just do it.

You want to do it?

It wouldn't work for everybody.

But it's working well for us.

Now, that was 29.

Karen's mom continued to live with the locals for several more years.

Finally, though, only a nursing home could provide Nettie the kind of care she required and deserved.

That's where she lived the last few years of her life, passing away just in 2018 at the age of 93.

You know, it's two things.

It's both a burden and a gift to take care of a loved one.

It's difficult.

It's very difficult for the family.

But in the end, I think most people are glad they did it.

And when they finally pass away and go to heaven, I've heard most people say it was such a privilege and an honor to take care of them.

Yeah.

Him or her.

And.

And it really is.

They took care of us.

We take care of them.

And it's a good lesson for all of them.

Now to a Kansan who was on the other end of the age spectrum.

Ben Kincaid was a teenager with talent well beyond his years.

Now, you might say the same for his poise and personality, which made Ben a real showstopper on stage.

When I interviewed him in 2002, Ben seemed to be on the fast track to fame, fortune and a long and happy life.

My goal is, is to be successful in whatever I do.

So like any other teenager in a school band, when homework is finished, you might find Ben Kincaid practicing his alto sax.

It's a it's a pretty much an escape from everyday life.

Like any other teenager, his classes at South East High take a lot of his time.

Conflict.

Can you defend your choice?

He could.

Ben is a good student, but there is something more important right now.

Ben is finding himself, figuring out who he is and reckoning with a God given talent.

Oh, yeah.

Hello, jazz lovers meet the future.

I don't know about being professional.

I'd like to go to college, and I might become a doctor.

I might become an astronaut.

I don't know.

Sitting in with a band called The Four Brothers, headed by longtime Wichita jazz artist Pat McGimpsey, Tory's Pizza and old town was rocking.

You know, they've been there since I was just started.

Let me get up and play the saxophone with them.

You know, those guys are so friendly.

They're like family.

They're all my uncles.

It's like a natural high.

You know, like, people will jump out of planes for it, and people will light themselves on fire.

And I'll just go and play my saxophone on stage in front of a thousand people and just get that rush and it's my baby.

It's much more than a piece of metal.

It's a piece of art.

Means funds.

Friends.

Means family.

It means everything.

Very they, you know.

After graduating from south east high in 2006, Ben moved to Kansas City, where he played at a number of jazz venues.

But after a while, wanderlust set in and he hit the road.

A band took seasonal jobs at resorts and national parks and enjoyed adventure, such as bicycling from Oregon to Maine.

And then another time across Europe.

He always had his saxophone in tow.

And then in 2020, Ben was working in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where he also played in a 19 piece big band.

But he contracted severe COVID, then was diagnosed with cancer.

His mom says he died of pneumonia in June of 2022.

He was 35 years old.

Incredibly talented young man.

I remember when I did the story and he was just a young teen.

At that point, I couldn't believe because I played the saxophone and he played this act.

Really?

Yeah.

He played the saxophone, right?

Right.

I was just terrible.

Yeah.

You know, but he was wonder.

He had a gift.

Okay, here's the deal.

Such a gift.

Number one.

Number two, he died at 35.

Number three.

It sounds like he put more into those 35 years than we have put in our lifetimes combined.

Yes, he traveled Europe.

He traveled across the United States.

He played the saxophone for everyone and gave his gift to everyone.

And what a life well lived.

Cut way too short.

As we know, several were during COVID.

Right.

And he received the gift of applause that most people never get.

But he received the gift of applause because of his incredible talent.

So he has that.

He will be missed.

He will.

Well, just as we all have special gifts, we also have our own challenges along way that can make us feel a little less than perfect every day.

Well, that reality can be particularly hard for children to deal with.

So Margaret Dominic had an inspiration.

It all started with her son, Jack.

Being different is just part of life.

When you open Margaret Dominic's book, everybody has something.

These are the first two pages.

Hi, I'm Jack.

And guess what?

I have something.

My mom says that everybody has something.

We are.

We've always lived in a really small house and we've found this one.

And we've got a little acreage.

And on a typical summer day, we might have.

Are you having fun?

Everybody on the swings.

And who can get the highest?

We've got them on the trampoline.

We've got neighbor kids over here all the time.

It's just very busy, busy and loud and wonderful.

Margaret Dominique's family is the picture of normalcy.

But as her book says, everybody has something.

Nine year old Jack playing catch with his father.

Mike has a disease called P.K., a rare liver disorder.

Jack has to be monitored closely and has a restricted diet.

Very happy, kid.

One day, Margaret found that she couldn't let Jack stay over at a friend's house because of that restricted menu.

That led to the inspiration for the book.

So later that evening, the kids had all taken showers and we were putting on pajamas and getting ready for bed.

And he was voicing his disapproval of my decision.

And before I had a chance to respond to him, Jessica jumped in and she said, I know how you feel, Jack.

Today I had a substitute teacher ask me if I had chickenpox because she had some breakouts on her face.

And Madeleine chimed right in with, Yeah, and I've got bad tummy eggs.

And she looked right at me and said, Mom, by the way, I have tummy aches and nobody else does.

And it just it just happened.

I said, Look, guys, everybody has something.

Even six year old Max, the youngest in the family, would sometimes scratch his leg till it bled.

So everyone in Margaret's family had something.

I feel good because now I know that everybody else has something, and I feel like I'm not.

The only one to have a.

Good for a.

Year.

At work.

Margaret is a speech pathologist in the Norwich and Harper School Systems.

It is the special nature of her work that lets her see the differences in children.

One on one.

Thank you.

I got a match.

Margaret?

Dominic.

Making a difference.

One child at a time.

I was just being a mom, trying to find a way to teach our kids something that I felt needed to be done.

Now, that was 2006.

Now, several years later, Margaret says her son Jack is doing great.

He graduated from Kansas State and is now 26 and out in the working world.

His liver condition is something he will always have, but right now he's able to deal with it just fine.

That's so good there.

I love these updates that are so neat.

By the way, here's a recent photo of the whole family.

Margaret, by the way, continues her work as a speech pathologist now at the Aaron Is Hope Foundation here in Wichita.

Her book, Everybody Has Something, is still available for purchase online.

And it is so true.

Everybody has something.

Every everybody has something.

And I really love these good outcomes on many of these stories.

You know what?

From the time we do this story, you never know what's going to happen 20 years later.

And to have a good outcome like this is positive.

That is the beauty of Hatteberg standing on PBS's Kansas.

You got it.

We get to update you on all these wonderful stories.

You got it.

All right.

Well, we often say that home is where the heart is.

But if that same home has been in your family for 150 years, it's also where your history is.

Yes, that was the case with Leslie and Linda Allison of Florence, honoring one.

We like sitting out here on our porch and watching the birds and listening to the water and just and visiting with friends.

It's a great place.

The place is one of history.

The old stone part of this home built in 1873 by Les Allison's great grandfather, the Log Cabin portion built years later in the 1970s by.

We're kind of surrounded by a cloud of ancestors that I, you know, respect to and and honor.

Few families can say that they are living in the same house, on the same land from the 1870s.

We look back and and know some of the stories that they had to say.

And and we say, yeah, you know, that's right.

That's that's that's what real people are about.

Lewis and his wife, Linda, decided to move into the old stone part of the house in the 1970s when they had three small children.

Now those children are grown with families of their own.

But back then, the old stone house was falling apart.

Well, the house had no windows, no doors.

We were fighting the rats to decide who was going to live in it.

I swore I would not move in until there was water and electricity, but I did.

I don't know why.

But I did.

It was built by Lisa's grandfather and Allison.

Each stone and car.

It makes history come alive.

The house sits next to Doyle Creek, a picturesque place where the dog loves to play retriever and he never tires.

Of a water supply for the house is stuck into that spring and it goes under the creek and we have a line buried into the basement of his own house.

It's a peaceful place, idyllic in many ways.

A tremendous amount of work brought them to this point in their lives.

Now both of them retired.

They relax near the acorn trees with nature's symphony of color and life like a Norman Rockwell painting.

When they were.

Your honor, your parents and your grandparents, the way we we intend to.

Part of that is understanding who they were and feeling that closeness and relationship.

History flows here.

And because Lisa's family seldom threw anything away, they are blessed with letters from the great grandfather and other relatives who lived through drought and depressions on this same land.

The land grab deed is even signe Well, it certainly has been fun.

It's been an experience.

Now, 13 years after I did that story, we are happy to report the lesson.

Linda are still living in that house.

They are hoping to pass it on to one of their children when the time comes.

Now, the Allison's also have their own family cemetery in the pasture, overlook being the house.

I had no idea about that.

And that's really.

Incredible.

The circle of life and history and families.

All I got to say, this is going to sound corny.

But.

It's a good thing we're going to see our loved ones in heaven.

That's all I got.

Well, they're living the life that they dreamed of, and I'm so happy for them.

Absolutely.

A lot of people look forward to the day when they can give up the daily grind and retire.

But Wesley Brown was not one of them.

He was not.

He set the record for the oldest federal judge in U.S. history.

This story is from 2007.

I always think of the Constitution is not something telling people what to do, but says what government can't do.

Or the people.

Behind the concrete walls of Wichita's federal courthouse, behind the secure doors of a federal judge, sits a man whose life has been the law for 73 years.

I've always gone on the basis it's not what you have done or what have you done.

Recently, the honorable federal District Court Judge Wesley Brown could be the longest sitting federal judge in the nation.

My mother said one time I was born on Saturday, so I'd have to work all my life.

Judge Brown will be 99 next month, 99 years old and still hearing cases in federal court.

I'm well aware that I'm a little like the guy falling out of the 20th story as he passed the 10th floor.

All right.

So so Judge Brown was appointed to the federal bench by President John Kennedy in 1962.

Before that, he practiced law in Reno County.

Today on the federal bench, he has served in senior status longer than most judges serve their entire career.

I really don't want to be known as being a judge at 99.

I want to be known as a judge who does his job and does the best that he's able under the circumstances of his life.

In his courtroom, he's serious and expects those around him to be the same.

But his sense of humor is never far away.

I said, How do you get used to wearing these robes?

He said, You'll find out.

It's just like your underwear after a while.

You can't get along without it.

Much of what the judge does occurs before any courtroom appearance.

It's here with his staff as they plan, for example, a naturalization ceremony for legal immigrants.

I think the naturalization is are really impressive.

Whatever the star is.

This is one of the joys of Judge Brown's job.

Swearing in new citizens.

It gives you the challenge to seek the truth in your life, in your country.

The truth that will keep you free at home.

The truth for Judge Brown is in his reading.

I must read three books a month.

And his memories.

This is my son.

I like this picture.

He'll be 70 next November.

But age is a state of mind.

On the bench.

His age is never a question, especially among the lawyers.

Before me, at least they do what they're supposed to do.

This courtroom steeped in power, the polished, the wood, the leather chairs, the smell of battles won and lost.

And never come out.

But what I am grateful for the opportunity to serve has kept me going.

Some say Judge Brown has authored more than 5000 unpublished opinions since 1962.

I have never thought of my position or as a judge as being one of power.

It's one of obligation.

So leaf and phone.

China as this country's newest citizens realize their dreams.

The judge continues his.

It means that I am performing a service for the people, my people, my country.

He is from there.

Later at his office, his day is over.

His staff awaits tomorrow.

I'm here as a beneficiary of so many people who have done so much.

I'll see you tomorrow.

So.

We'll go later.

But I owe them a great obligation not to be worthy of their trust.

So the future of this country.

My advice to the people is don't sell it short.

Well, Judge Brown kept working up until his death in 2012 at the age of 104.

Just saying that is amazing.

Now, his passing attracted national attention as he was and remains the oldest person to ever serve on the federal bench.

And the thing that you just said that was really strange is he continued.

He passed away at 104 and he was still on the bench.

That's right.

When he passed away.

That's the weird.

Part.

Yeah.

And I met him once at his home as I was doing this story, and he told me he read a book a week on Bill that would be 52 books a year at over 100 years old.

I hope all of us can do.

I know great love.

I hope so.

It is no longer enough just to ranch on the Kansas prairie.

Times have changed.

In western Kansas, Joe and Nancy Moore found that agritourism is a good way to diversify and maintain that prairie life that they love so much.

This is back in their little girl.

Sometimes I realize I take it, I take it for granted what I have.

And I enjoy being outside, being with them, being in nature.

It's hard to describe.

I guess it just becomes a part of it's a part of life that I've always lived and want to hang on to.

If there is a heaven on earth for Nancy Moore, this would be it out on the ranch with her family, the Longhorns, and an old lifestyle with modern day challenges.

I like that other heifer better.

Nancy and her husband, Joe, on the Moore Ranch south of Buckland, Kansas.

It's here.

They've taken their stand in the daily monetary battle to survive in a changing agriculture, rural economy.

Our options are one of us, or most of us are going to have to get a job off the ranch or to maintain our lifestyle.

We'll bring the job to us.

So they embraced the concept of agritourism, sharing their lifestyle with folks who wanted the taste of our country patterns.

The word can be hard, and it can be frustrating at times.

Like right now we're in a pretty severe drought where after the sale and restock a lot of cattle, but that's part of it.

You know, we'll get through it.

We always do.

They purchased these cabins that were formerly a motel.

That's actually a motel in Cunningham, Kansas, bought the property and the cabins and moved them out here and started setting them up.

May wake up with sheep around your room or you'll see Joe and Nancy son Laramie feeding his pet longhorns.

She knew that humans were ideal source of food, so she was ten.

Trail rides are also offered anywhere from 2 to 3 days to a week at varying times throughout the year.

And on the trail.

Nancy is the chef.

This helps out a lot, but there aren't all the conveniences at home here.

I have to keep my own water up and a bucket and so forth.

Modern technology does creep into the ranch.

The Moores have a website where they sell some homemade items, including hides, purses and Longhorns skulls.

Things aren't like they were when I was a kid.

39 years ago.

Things have changed a little bit.

So you look around and see What can I do to change with it?

It's another way to get some cash flow in.

It's been dry out on the range, but there is optimism here.

And the great reward is probably being able to be out here with my children and my family all the time.

Now, 16 years later, we're sorry to report that the more ranch has gone out of business.

Joe and Nancy have moved on to other things.

You know, sometimes things work in life, sometimes they don't.

But at least they had the experience.

They chase their dream exactly.

For a long time and it worked out.

And then you go on to other things.

That's right.

Thank you, Joe and Nancy, for giving us that.

Exactly.

And thank you for joining us.

We are out of time for our hat of urge people this week, but be sure to tune in again next week for another trip down memory lane.

And remember, if you have any comments about our show, you can reach us at kpts dot org right here.

Have a good day, everybody.

We'll see you later.