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By Greg A. BedardWednesday, May 28 2008, 04:29 PM Parkersburg, Iowa - Standing on the front step of Claas Kampman's home at sunrise this morning, one could only hear the distant hum of bulldozers and the constant flapping of debris in the stiff, cold morning wind. Stripped-bare trees had tattered bedspreads beating against them. Twisted pieces of sheet metal couldn't break loose of titled electrical poles, whose lines were so scattered and warped they looked like gray strands of spray string. full article. |
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