In early November of 1992, a group of dedicated pheasant hunters traveled to western Kansas in search of ringnecks. The group consisted of Al Sigman and his son Darrell, Tom Flaming, Rich Bloch, and a very young cowboy named Bob. A steady rain greeted them on Saturday morning. By 11:00 am., the party was soaked and hungry. They decided to get an early lunch at Maude’s Diner and found a laundromat in hopes that wool shirts and hunting vests would dry for the afternoon return to the fields. The chicken fried steaks were the finest……and largest, that Norton, Kansas had to offer. Polishing off the steaks and cherry pie a la mode desserts, the gang headed back to the laundromat. The owner, Marge McKinney, was waiting for them with a look that could kill. She related, in graphic terms, how her patrons ran for cover and hid under chairs when a number of shotgun shells began firing. No, it wasn’t a lone terrorist as this was ‘the old days.’ The embarrassed nineteen year old Darrell Sigman learned that he had left shotgun shells in his shirt. The heat of the dryers had caused them to ignite and the story made The Norton News Special Edition Sunday paper. The Colorado Bunch only brought four pheasants home that weekend but did create a story that would be told for years on the flatlands of Norton and the foothills of Denver.