" I lingered a bit longer. The tug of kinship held me there, bound me to the place and to a man I had never known, but without whom I would never have been. I conjured up his image one more time, and then laid back to rest. The late summer darkness drifted down from the sky like a warm mist, enveloping me and the graves before me,uniting us in its soft embrace. The world spun eastward beneath me, and the darkness deepened and spread over Hinckley, over Minnesota, over the American countryside, covering all of us in the same black shroud, tenants in common, tenants of time. "

― Daniel James Brown , Under a Flaming Sky: The Great Hinckley Firestorm of 1894