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This is Roald Tweet on Rock Island.

For a nine-year-old cowboy—me in the 1940s—there was no badder bad guy than an Indian. Cap guns blazing, my buddies and I regularly put away dozens of Indians every summer evening, skillfully avoiding a massacre.

This is Roald Tweet on Rock Island.

In July of 1863, Union troops arrived on this island to build a prison. By December, some 5,600 Confederates—many captured during the Battle of Lookout Mountain—had arrived here to face one of the worst winters on record in Rock Island. By March, 679 prisoners had died.

This is Roald Tweet on Rock Island.

Like all humans who put words on paper, I suffer from bouts of Writer's Block. I think, how many Rock Island Lines can there be; what stories are left to tell? I've done them all.

This is Roald Tweet on Rock Island.

Henry County just south of Rock Island is a farm county of formerly rolling prairie, as if gentle ocean swells had solidified, crested now with corn and soybeans. In the shallow valleys between the swells, small streams feed stands of willow and cottonwood trees.

This is Roald Tweet on Rock Island.

You may know that professors before they go out to colleges and universities to teach take an oath to never ever have a practical thought. Don't want to tarnish the image of the Ivory Tower.