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Bill Chavez has always been fascinated with big trucks. He comes from a long line of truckers, which is one of the reasons he’s devoted his life for 39 years to the profession. To most people, Chavez’s truck looks like any traditional semi. However, it’s not ordinary, because with a push of a button, it can drive itself. “What we’re trying to do is create the world’s safest self-driving trucks,” says Chuck Price, the chief product officer of TuSimple, the company behind the self-driving semis. TuSimple is currently operating 15 self-driving semis, and Price says by June, they'll have three times that number. “This is actually a laser radar unit; we call it lidar, built into the mirror. This gives us a close-in view,” Price describes. “Then, we have cameras along the top of the vehicle that show us…much further away.” TuSimple’s trucks are already in the southwest part of the country, on interstates across the region. "Our systems see farther, track more objects and respond faster than a human can operate," Price says. Right now, a human must be in the trucks at all times as back-up protocol, but the company says a fully self-driving semi could happen by 2020. The company says when that day comes, it will alleviate one of the industry's biggest problems.Tony Bradley, with the Arizona Trucking Association, says nationwide they're currently 50,000 drivers short. "This is the worst shortage we've seen in the history of trucking,” Bradley stresses. Bradley says 15 years from now, the shortage could be as high as 200,000, thanks to the large number of drivers approaching retirement age. "It's a job that is frankly, not very glamorous," Bradley says. However, the job continues to be appealing to Chavez. "It's just very enjoyable to be out there on the road and being your own boss," Chavez says. He knows that a time may come where drivers might be replaced by this technology. However, he's OK with that idea and says roads will be safer for everyone. "This is a system that's gonna help,” he says. “Either way, it’s helping," Chavez says.However, he says that day is much further down the road. 2133
DENVER, Colo. – Terri Gentry is a civil rights activist and volunteer at the Black American West Museum in Denver, Colorado. "My great grandfather – Dr. Thomas Ernest McClain – is the first black licensed dentist in Colorado," Gentry said. Her family lives on the walls of the museum, showcasing stories that will never be forgotten. “Coming in here for me is visiting my ancestors,” Gentry said. Confronting issues with the Ku Klux Klan and other incidents of racial discrimination, Gentry's great grandfather had many challenges, a lot to overcome in the early 1900s. However, he found a community that stood together and found the strength to rise up. Now they serve as an inspiration for Gentry and others who reflect on the past during Black History Month. “We get a lot of activity and action and response to Black History Month and then the interest wanes,” said Gentry. “But we’re here 365 days a year, so we hope that Black History Month gives highlight to us, but then it continues to create action for people to do things year-round.” Gentry says Black History Month was created to show how African Americans have helped to shape the United States, especially since their accomplishments haven’t always been recognized in mainstream education. “I remember being in school and there was one sentence about our experiences. And it said, ‘negroes were slaves,’" Gentry said. Black History Month is a time when we can reflect on the resistance to slavery and the impactful human beings who have fought for civil rights, like Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X and Rosa Parks. There are so many well-known people who helped progress equality in the U.S. But for Gentry, the most influential person in her life wasn’t somebody famous. “My grandmother, Ernestine Smith," Gentry said emotionally. Ernestine McClain Smith was the daughter of the dentist, and Gentry's grandmother. She was a dancer and performer, but more importantly, she was an advocate for civil and human rights. “My hope is that I continue her legacy. She impacted thousands of lives in our community,” Gentry said. Ernestine Smith always knew the importance of sharing stories from those in the past. “We’d walk into her bedroom when I was little, and she had this ancestral wall,” said Gentry. “So all of the pictures of her parents, her grandparents, her great grandparents were on this wall and she would talk to us about their stories and their history.” Those stories – and the stories millions of other African Americans hold dear—are what Gentry believes will help people from different backgrounds to connect. “I think that what Black History Month does is it opens the door for people to get another perspective.”When we understand each other’s perspectives, we often come to realize we’re not all that different in the end.“We’ve got to change our mindset and change our attitude and get rid of this issue about entitlement and get rid of this issue about ‘I’m better than you,’" Gentry said. "That’s killing us. That’s killing the country. We’ve got to change that idea and start embracing everyone… each and every individual that is here, that comes here, that’s been here. It’s time for a change.” 3203
CISCO, Utah - In the Eastern Utah desert, the air is dry, and the cold is biting. Winter is coming, and the matron of town needs to prepare. “It’s good to push yourself, I think. It’s really easy to stay at home and watch movies and I think I was trying to avoid that,” said Eileen Muza, who owns Cisco, Utah. No Netflix for this woman of the wild west. Cisco, Utah, is a ghost town alright. It's an hour north of Moab, which is where you'll find the closest grocery store. It popped up in the 1880s as a saloon and filling stations for the railroad companies. Without the trains, it wouldn’t be there. Muza is the town's owner and the caretaker. “Even though everything here is sort of harsh, she’s sort of weirdly soft,” said Soren Hope, an artist staying with Muza. About five years ago, Muza bought some land, covered in old, disintegrating buildings and a few broke down automobiles. Muza wouldn't say how much land she owns or how much she paid for it, but the few parcels she owns is less than an acre and the county says it's worth less than a new car. There is running electricity, but no running water. If you need to use the facilities, you'll be using a composting toilet outside. Muza was a city girl from Chicago before relocating to Cisco. “I actually camped, I had a little tent set up. Yeah, and I was really scared, I was like totally terrified,” said Muza. But five years of living in Cisco has changed Muza. “Basically a hardened criminal at this point," Muza said. "I’m not afraid to yell at people, tell them to leave.” But don’t let that hardened exterior fool you; Muza still has a goal. She wants Cisco to be a place where people can come from all over and explore their artistic side. “It’s a really good place to stay focused on your work, because there’s not that many distractions really,” said Muza. And that’s where Hope comes in. She’s from New York. She's the only other person living in Cisco right now. “Brooklyn, and I’m here on the artist residency,” said Hope. The artist residency is something Muza and her sisters started. They let artists come out and use the space for free. In fact two of the artists a year get a 0 stipend. There's no requirement for the artists to complete anything, just use the space to create what they want. Hope has been using her time to draw. She says she wants to imprint the desert onto her brain. And she also draws sketches of the chickens. “I was only scheduled for two weeks, and then I’m just gonna stay here an extra week, and who knows, maybe I’ll never go back home,” said Hope.That’s the kind of place Muza wants to build. She wants to do it for as long as she can, but, “I hope I’ll know when I need to quit. I hope I’ll understand, if it happens.” Muza says living out there can take a toll on you. Last winter, she fell off a ladder and no one was there to help. One day, she may have to give it all up. 2910
PINELLAS COUNTY, Fla. — There is a group of retired ladies living in a Pinellas County RV park who have formed their own assembly line when it comes to making masks.They call themselves the Crafty Ladies of Sherwood Forrest RV Resort. They are making hundreds of masks a week, and because the bulk of them go to our veterans, patriotism is a big deal.The red, white and blue runs deep not just in their fabric but their spirit.“I feel helpless with what’s going on with the Covid and this is my tiny little way of contributing,” said Micheal Barsi.Barsi is one of more than a dozen residents who are part of the group. Most of them have two main things in common, they are skilled with a sewing machine and are part of a military family.For the past six years, the Crafty Ladies have been making quilts for the Service Source organization, Veterans Mall. However, when the pandemic hit, they shifted their needle and thread to make masks for veterans.“They had to sacrifice and people who had to sacrifice I want to help as much as I can,” said Nancy Barandon.The Crafty Ladies said the best part is the camaraderie, working together on a project that could save lives.“It does make us feel good to see people using them,” said Jeannie Powell. This article was written by Robert Boyd for WFTS. 1316
Andrea Sachs is a travel reporter for the Washington Post. She's been all over the world, but it was a recent trip to South America that gave her a unique experience. “It combined my two great loves, which would be travel and animals,” Sachs says. “So, as travel writer and growing up travelling, that's what I love to do, and when I’m not traveling, I take care of other people's pets. Because I travel so much, I can't have my own.” Sachs flew all the way to Ecuador to watch a someone's dog, Fischer. She watched him for free, and in exchange, they let her stay at their home at no cost. “I thought, ‘You're really gonna let me travel anywhere in the world and take care of your animal?’”Sachs used a service called 732