April 19, 2014 - ROCK SPRINGS, WYO. — The only light in the vast Wyoming darkness came from the lit end of another 5:30 a.m. cigarette as Derric Winters waited alone for sunrise on the porch of his trailer. He never slept well, not anymore, so he smoked and stared across the three miles of barren landscape that separated him from town. He checked his voice mail, but there were no messages. He logged on to Facebook, but no one was awake to chat. The only company now was the hum of the interstate behind his trailer, people on their way from one place to the next. He walked out to his truck and joined them.His shirt read “ARMY,” his hat read “10th Mountain Division,” and his license plate read “Disabled Veteran.” Five bullets rattled on his dashboard as he swerved around another car with his right fist pressed against the horn. “Come on,” he said. “Go. Just go!” It had been five years since he returned from 16 months at war, and some days he still acted like he was back in Afghanistan. Many days, he wished that he were. read more>>>
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