You Still Here

[{"type":"text","text":"How many watermelons does it take to stop a bullet?"}]

You still here 6 8 26

Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>You Still Here? Monday, June 8, 2026 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

How many watermelons does it take to stop a bullet?

You Still Here? Monday, June 8, 2026

 How many watermelons does it take to stop a bullet?

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Dale Killingbeck

Dale Killingbeck

Wyoming Life

Around Wyoming

When former Fremont County coroner Ed McAuslan arrived in Riverton, Wyoming, as a young police officer in January 1973, the town was rougher than it is now.

“When I first came here, it was a little more wild,” McAuslan said. “There were bombings and just all kinds of things went on back then.”

McAuslan said that a bomb had been placed under the patrol car of Undersheriff Duel Price. The car was parked in his driveway at Price’s home when the explosion rocked the neighborhood. 

No one was hurt, but McAuslan said that it was incidents like the bombing were the on-the-job training he and other rookie cops received. 

There was no police academy in the 1970s and McAuslan learned the intricacies of his job on the streets of Riverton. 

Much of the town's crime centered around the numerous bars in Riverton. McAuslan said that just at the intersection of Third and Main streets there were three bars on the street corners.

McAuslan had gotten into law enforcement by chance. 

In 1962, he had joined the military and spent his tour of duty at Vandenburg Air Force Base in California during the early days of missiles. 

He said that the base test-fired missiles and for the next four years, he was a motion picture lab technician working with film of the missile launches, mostly to the South Pacific.

He left in 1966 and returned home to Wyoming where he earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Wildlife Management. After graduating, McAuslan was unable to find work in his chosen field. 

“I was married with a young son to support,” McAuslan said. “There were only two openings with Wyoming Game and Fish and 75 applicants.”

The chief of Police in Glenrock encouraged him to apply for a job, and in May 1972, McAuslan was employed as a patrol officer. 

He soon transferred to Riverton and hit the streets in January 1973 as a rookie cop, acquiring knowledge as he went.

His first lessons involved learning the city laws and statutes.

“Our job was to patrol and try to keep the crime down,” McAuslan said. “We also had the responsibility of working traffic and doing accident investigations. We covered the whole aspect of it.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Investigator And Coroner "}]

McAuslan was a patrol officer for only 10 months before being promoted into investigations. 

It was there that the rookie learned how to investigate major crimes like burglaries and homicides. He was no longer a traffic cop, but it also meant long hours since McAuslan was always on call. 

His duties increased when, in 1975, Fremont County Coroner Larry Lee asked Police Chief Dennis Horyza if McAuslan could assist with death investigations. 

It was approved. The same year, McAuslan also became an EMT and worked with the Fremont County Ambulance until 1990.

“For a long time, the coroners of the state were just funeral directors,” McAuslan said. “But things got to the point where they did more investigations.”

Lee was a funeral director and fire chief when he asked McAuslan to help him with death investigations. Their jurisdiction covered all of Fremont County and the Wind River Reservation. 

McAuslan worked in law enforcement and in the coroner’s office for the next 24 years. 

When Lee retired in 1998, McAuslan was elected to the office in Lee’s place in 1999 and retired from the Riverton Police Department. 

McAuslan became a coroner full-time and held the post until his own retirement in 2014. 

“Working with families during a death, whether it is natural, accidental or a homicide, is the most difficult part,” McAuslan said.“My job was to determine the cause and manner of death, and to assist families however I could. Having compassion is the most important thing there is.”

McAuslan said that it was crucial to remember to always have respect for the people no matter how they treat you. 

He related almost being attacked when he brought news of a husband’s death in a car crash to the victim’s wife. She reacted in a hate-filled rage and went after McAuslan. 

McAuslan said that although he was just the messenger, he knew he could become the target of the loved ones' anger and learned not to take it personally. 

That day, he was grateful he had taken a pastor with him who was able to calm the grief-stricken woman while McAuslan tactfully withdrew from her home.  

“If you can't respect the people and what's going on with them, then you need to get another profession,” McAuslan said. “You can't react to how they treat you because it is a very difficult circumstance.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Bridging Cultures"}]

Since McAuslan had jurisdiction over the reservation, he also had to learn to deal respectfully with two different cultures. He worked closely with several tribal members over the years, including Georgianna “Georgie” Crawford and Willie Le Clair.

One example he cited was when they were dealing with a hit-and-run homicide on the reservation and the family was not allowed to enter the scene. 

They asked McAuslan to allow a tribal elder to bless the body, and he was able to convince the FBI and Indian Police that this could be could be done without disturbing the investigation.

“I made a habit of keeping a braid of sweet grass in each vehicle,” McAuslan said. “If the family wanted something like that, we always had it with us.” 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Preventing Deaths"}]

During McAuslan’s many years as coroner, suicide was a big issue and he became proactive in preventing them, especially with youth.

“Georgie and I spent a lot of time with the kids and we covered the entire county,” McAuslan said. 

He was working for the coroner’s office when in 1985, a rash of suicides by hanging ultimately claimed the lives of 12 young men from the Wind River Indian Reservation, while 88 others fortunately failed in their attempts. 

During this time McAuslan, Crawford and others doubled their efforts to reach the kids and stop the deaths. 

Eventually, the hangings stopped following a Tribal Ceremony, but left behind grieving families.

McAuslan said that another aspect of suicide that is not considered is how no one talked about cleaning the scene following a suicide. This was left to family or friends. 

It broke his heart as he witnessed the additional pain mothers especially were put through.

“At that time, I realized that an issue no one talked about was how messy it was when someone shoots themselves,” McAuslan said. “I was able to talk to some people and get some money to establish the fund to do cleanup so the families didn't have that responsibility.”

McAuslan said that it takes a special person to be willing to clean up a suicide scene and he finally had a young intern, Erin Ivie who took over the job. 

After proving that she had the same compassion as McAuslan, Ivie is currently the Fremont County Coroner. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Compassion"}]

McAuslan said that one of the hardest investigations as a coroner was when someone lost a child to SIDS. 

There is usually no explanation for the death and so rather than prevention, he and Crawford set out to give as much support to the grieving families as possible. 

In the early 2000s, their compassionate approach received national attention and they were invited to make a presentation at the National SIDS Conference in Orlando, Florida.

“We would have families who felt ostracized,” McAuslan said. “The only help we could give them was to support them as we did our investigation.”

McAuslan learned to not rush the families and to sit with them as they held their children for the last time. 

“It's not natural for a parent to lose a child,” McAuslan said. 

In dealing with so many deaths over the past decades, McAuslan said that he cannot dwell on the horrors he has witnessed but rather on the people he has helped.

“You can't focus on the deaths or you won't survive,” McAuslan said. “I still remember a few cases, like the couple who murdered their children in 1979 and the suicides in the 1980s, but for the most part, I don’t think about them.” 

In his retirement, McAuslan has turned to photography and taking classes on petroglyphs at Central Wyoming College. 

“It’s important to keep moving forward,” McAuslan said. “To focus on the good.” 

Ed Mc Auslan 2 inset Ed the retired photographer 6 7 26

<title>Wyoming People: Fremont County’s Ed McAuslan Learned To Be A Coroner On The Job | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Ed McAuslan was the longtime Fremont County coroner who learned his trade on the job as a young cop recruited into the office. A rash of 100 attempted suicides by hanging in 1985 — 12 successful — opened his eyes wide to “an issue no one talked about."

Wyoming People: Fremont County’s Ed McAuslan Learned To Be A Coroner On The Job

A woman born in Casper and raised on a ranch near Riverton, along with her young son, were among the more than 900 people who died at Jonestown, Guyana, in November 1978, when self-styled pastor turned messianic figure Jim Jones infamously commanded them to drink a poisoned potion.

Wanda Shirley Swinney moved to Jones’ People's Temple compound in Guyana in August 1977, reuniting with her husband and son. 

How Swinney’s life went from her Wyoming beginnings to ending with the command of a cult leader in Jonestown is a tale of family tragedy, an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, a father’s introduction, and years of brainwashing from the cult’s exalted leader.

The bottom line is Swinney was devoted to Jones. 

In a letter to him written in Guyana, she thanked her “precious Father” for providing their life in Guyana.

“There is no limit to what we can do if we follow your teachings and put them into practice,” she wrote. “Thank you Father for the privilege of being here with you.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"When It Came Tumbling Down"}]

A California congressman, along with journalists, flew to the jungle community in November 1978 to check on his constituents and other Americans who were at Jones’ compound, dubbed “Jonestown."

U.S. Rep. Leo Ryan had heard that people wanted to leave, but were not allowed.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"There was no heavenly outcome."}]

Headlines and history record 918 deaths in Guyana that included Ryan’s assassination and the murder of journalists who accompanied him at the hands of Jones’ deluded followers. Of those, 909 died by drinking the “potion."

Jones died by either self-inflicted gunshot or at the hands of an obedient assistant. Some followers slit their throats, but most of his congregants drank a cyanide-laced potion at his command.

In his now-infamous “Death Tape,” Jones tells his followers “how much” he loved them and tried to give them “the good life.” 

, he characterized Ryan’s visit as a betrayal by “a handful” of sect members “who have made our life impossible.”

Ryan and his party were to fly out with some cult members and children that Jones characterized as “stolen” from Jonestown. 

Jones said the actions of angry sect members at the airport to get their children back using weapons meant the only solution for the rest of the congregation was not to “commit suicide,” but to “take the potion as a revolutionary act.”

He quoted scripture “that no man takes my life from me, I lay it down” and then referred to himself as a communist.

“We can’t go back and they won’t leave us alone,” Jones said. “The best testimony we can make is to leave this (profanity) world.”

Born in Casper as Wanda Shirley Werner on Aug. 20, 1947, she was raised in the early part of her life on a ranch outside Riverton.

It was 31 years later when Wanda Shirley Swinney’s life ended when she — along with her young son — obeyed her “father” and drank Jones' “potion.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Temple Visit"}]

“We went to one of the meetings,” recalls Darlene Parrish, Swinney’s niece.

Darlene and her sister, Tina Parrish, of Carson, Nevada, are the closest living connection to Swinney. They are the daughters of Swinney’s older sister, Jeanie Lou Parrish. Their mother died in October 2023.

Darlene Parrish said that as a young girl, she accompanied her mother on a visit to see her sister in California. 

Her mother and aunt took her to the People’s Temple in San Francisco, where Jones preached and commanded his congregation.

She doesn’t remember a lot from that visit except that in addition to Jones and his followers, there was a monkey at the service.

“Mom told us she remembers Jim Jones getting up there, talking and everything,” Darlene Parrish told Cowboy State Daily. “He said he was ‘Jesus’ and the Bible was just a bunch of lies about him. 

"She said he took the Bible and stomped on it.”

Tina Parrish was 9 months old when her aunt took her life, but she heard the story about the temple visit several times while growing up.

“That was a big story in our family,” she said.

Wanda Shirley Werner was born to Chelsea Guy Werner and Jean Evelyn Werner, the youngest of siblings that including Leonard, Jeanie Lou, and Chelsea Jr.

The Parrish sisters said their mother was born in Missouri and the family moved to Wyoming where their grandfather and grandmother eventually ranched a few years after her birth. 

They believe their grandmother also was possible a teacher for a time.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Mother’s Death"}]

A Casper Star-Tribune article on March 17, 1958, recorded their grandmother’s death.

“Mrs. Jean Evelyn Werner, former Casper resident, died suddenly in a Riverton hospital according to word received here today,” the newspaper reported. “She was 43 years old. Mrs. Werner was born in Huntsville, Missouri. She lived in Casper from 1946 to 1949.”

Darlene Parrish said her mother was 15 at the time of her grandmother’s death and became a surrogate mom for Wanda and Chelsea Jr.

The Parrish sisters said one story their mother told about Wanda involved her as a young girl playing on a stump and disturbing a nearby beehive. 

The bees swarmed on Wanda and their mom, Jeanie, had to quickly run and grab the girl and pull her away, swiping bees off as the girls tried to escape.

After their grandmother’s death, their grandfather got a job driving trucks over the road and went through a succession of wives. 

The Parrish sisters said they did not know their grandfather well and visited him once after he moved to Grants Pass, Oregon.

Their mother’s life stayed centered in Wyoming and they don’t know why Wanda and their grandfather ended up in California.

But the Richmond Independent newspaper listed Wanda Shirley Werner as among the 751 graduates of Richmond High School on June 15, 1965. Richmond is in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Three years later on March 27, 1968, Wanda Werner’s photo is in the same newspaper as a graduate of U.S. Marine Corps boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina. 

But her military career was cut short by an out-of-wedlock pregnancy and birth of a biracial son, Darren Eugene Werner.

Darren was born on Sept. 8, 1968, in Oakland, California.

The Parrish sisters say that it was the stigma at that time associated with having biracial baby that led to Wanda Werner’s involvement with the People’s Temple.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"An Introduction"}]

“It was my grandfather who kind of got her in it not knowing what it was at the time, of course,” Tina Parrish said. “He was driving truck with a member of the People’s Temple and they also had a mixed-race child.” 

She said her grandfather thought that Wanda would find more acceptance with those people as friends. That introduction likely took place in late 1968 or 1969.

At the People’s Temple, Wanda Werner, then 22, married Timothy Swinney, 32, in 1970, after he had divorced his first wife. 

Swinney was considered a “pioneer” at the People’s Temple because his parents and family followed Jones from their home in Indiana as Jones moved from that state to California.

The Ukiah Daily Journal on Oct. 21, 1970, listed Wanda Swinney as the secretary of the Ukiah Area Council that met at the First Methodist Church. The group’s order of business was to make preparations for food baskets for people for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

San Diego State University, which hosts a website that contains information about Jonestown, and the People’s Temple lists Wanda Swinney as moving to Guyana on Aug. 10, 1977. 

Her husband had gone there on March 18, 1974, and it lists her son, Darren Swinney, as entering the country on Nov. 24, 1975.

Prior to Guyana, Wanda Swinney worked as a bus driver, accounting clerk, and had skills in animal husbandry, farming and cooking, the website states.            

Darlene Parrish recalls one thing her mother talked about was that as girls on the ranch in Wyoming, both she and Wanda enjoyed horses and horseback riding.

In Guyana, Wanda lived in a separate residence from her husband and was listed as being in charge of the livestock, the “piggery,” and large animals.

Although Wanda Werner was patriotic enough to join the Marines during the Vietnam War, undated letters from her to Jim Jones reflect she believed Jones' Marxist anti-American messages and preaching that came out of his pulpit in the years leading up to the Jonestown event.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Brainwashing"}]

A massive FBI file created after the Nov. 18, 1978, mass murder and suicide includes a Nov. 21, 1978, message from the Omaha, Nebraska, office to the San Francisco office that contained an interview with a woman who joined the People’s Temple with her then-husband in Los Angeles. 

They were told to move to Ukiah, California.

“(The woman) advised although the group on the surface appeared to be a religious group, it was actually politically oriented and Jim Jones professed a political philosophy adhering to the teachings of Marx and Lenin,” the FBI memo states. 

“All members of the group had to attend closed instructional meetings two or three days a week, each last several hours,” it continues.

Swinney’s letters to Jones were written while she was in Guyana. She wrote her “Father” that among the reasons she left the United States “were because it is a capitalistic nation and we are Socialists and trying to learn more of Socialism.”

Swinney wrote that the U.S. economy was not going to “exist much longer,” according to an economist, and that the nation was quickly approaching a day of “race war.” 

She foresaw a time when the “fascist government” would round up people and put them in ghettos and concentration camps that were already prepared.

“It is a known fact that train box cars are strategically located, just waiting for the signal for when people will be herded like animals into these camps,” Swinney wrote. “Nuclear war is a constant threat also and here in Socialist Guyana we are safe from the radiation fallout if war does break out.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"'Precious Father'"}]

Tina Parrish said because of her aunt’s involvement in Guyana, while in college she did a research paper on Jonestown and the People’s Temple. But she was unaware then of her aunt’s letters to Jones.

When told about the content, Tina Parrish said one thing was clear.

“I don’t think she would have gotten that from Wyoming or from her dad,” she said.

Darlene Parrish remembers the day her grandfather called her mother with the news of Wanda Swinney’s death.

“I felt bad for her. I didn’t know exactly what was going on. She got off the phone and she was just sobbing,” she said. “Mom said later on that he (Chelsea Werner Sr.) decided because it was such a mess out there that instead of bringing her home, he would just have her buried with the people there.”

Records from the San Diego State University website show that the remains of Wanda and Darren Swinney were eventually brought back to Oakland, California, and buried in Evergreen Cemetery.

“Next of kin could not be located,” the file states. “Buried by receiver on June 19, 1979.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Wanda’s Son"}]

A remembrance by Don Beck, a People’s Temple member who directed the children’s choir while Jones remained in Redwood Valley, California, characterized Darren Swinney as a boy who in second grade struggled until Beck directed the youngster to report to him each day on his way home regarding his performance.

“Darren was like many of our kids. They needed more of our attention, consistently,” he wrote. “Unfortunately, we were often too busy to give the extra attention our kids needed.

"This was one reason we wanted to build a community.”

While both Parrish sisters never knew their aunt or their young cousin who was a year older than Darlene, they still feel the ties and loss that a blood relation brings.

Darlene Parrish said people who make flippant remarks about happened in Guyana are not thinking about those who were left behind.

“Our family, it hit us pretty hard,” she said. "And none of us like the jokes that people make about 'drinking the Kool-Aid.' It’s ridiculous.

"think about (the fact) that there are family and friends who are still alive that knew those people and were affected by it a lot.”

Wanda and son Jonestown site in 2022 AFP via Getty 6 7 26

<title>Casper Woman, Son Among 909 Who Drank Poison At Jim Jones’ Guyana Compound In 1978 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

A woman born in Casper and raised on a ranch near Riverton, along with her young son, were among the more than 900 people who died at Jonestown, Guyana, in November 1978, when self-styled pastor Jim Jones infamously commanded them to drink poison.

Casper Woman, Son Among 909 Who Drank Poison At Jim Jones’ Guyana Compound In 1978

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's business and tourism reporter, Renée Jean

Renée Jean

Entertainment

Rodeo champion Rusty Wright’s big comeback didn’t start with a wild bronc or record-setting ride. It began between rides, in the dust and noise of Cheyenne Frontier Days when a stranger asked him to do a quick interview for a documentary about barrel racing legend Angela Ganter. 

They wanted him to talk about something he feels strongly about — the importance of women in the rodeo world.

“I’ve got a pretty strong opinion about it, so I figured I’d go ahead and do it,” said the saddle bronc champ. “I didn’t expect it to be as big of a deal as it turned out being. I was passionate about it, and they loved that, so I think the interview went a little longer than it was supposed to.”

His off-the-cuff, passionate interview would become what Wyoming filmmaker Raen LeVell describes as the “beating heart” of his 

 a film he believes is well on its way to becoming a grassroots rodeo blockbuster.

It’s enjoyed a multi-week run as the No. 1-ranked Western documentary on IMDb and earned major praise from national outlets like Sports Illustrated. 

It’s also gained elite backing from professional rodeo leaders, who have given it prime screenings at some of the sport’s biggest venues, including the National Finals Rodeo.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Women Behind Rodeo’s Biggest Champions"}]

Ask Wright who the real heroes of rodeo are, and he’ll point first to the women — those who compete in the arena and the ones who never step inside of it.

In his Cheyenne interview, he poured his heart out about his own mother, ShaRee Wright, and all of the other rodeo moms and wives who help keep riders like himself going. 

“They asked me what my mom meant to me, and the things she’s done for me in my career,” he said. “Everybody hears how our dad helped us along. He gets lots of recognition, which he should. 

“But I don’t feel like my mom or the wives behind the scenes ever really get the recognition they deserve. Honestly, I think it should be just as much as what my dad would get.”

If there were gold buckles for “backbone of the family,” Rusty said he's convinced his mom would have several of those.

The deep respect for women behind the chutes is exactly the kind of authenticity LeVell was hoping to capture in his film, from Ganter’s story to the moms and wives behind the scenes.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Ganter’s ‘Red Devil’ Comeback"}]

“Outriding the Devil” focuses on the little-told comeback story of Ganter, a barrel racer whose stunning career slammed into a stage-four breast cancer diagnosis so advanced doctors told her she was unlikely to live.

But Ganter had always been a fighter and refused to give up. 

The chemotherapy that ultimately saved her has a telling nickname, though. It’s called the “red devil,” and it wreaks havoc on the human body in its quest to ultimately save it.

There were days Ganter couldn’t walk from her bedroom to the living room. After chemo like that, almost no one believed Ganter would even be able to ride a horse again, much less fight her way back to compete at an elite level. 

“That red devil chemo had road-graded her nervous system,” LeVell said. “She had lost her balance. She didn’t really know left from right. So the idea that she would get on a horse and be able to just kind of like work on a horse was a little fanciful, and the thought that she would come back to rodeo was kind of like Disney-line stuff.”

And yet, Ganter not only survived, but she returned to rodeo at the highest levels, finding a special horse named Bugs and clawing her way back to champion-caliber barrel racing. 

Lighting A Fire Under Rusty Wright’s Comeback

For Wright, who hadn’t known the full depth of Ganter's ordeal until that Cheyenne interview, her resilience ended up lighting a fire right when he needed it most.

“When I did that interview, honestly, I was kind of right in the middle of my own personal issues and stuff,” he said. “I went from, you know, top of the world — I was reserve world champion in 2018 — and then I had a bunch of personal struggles. I wasn’t even making finals one year. I wasn’t even top 50.”

Learning what Ganter had overcome helped him push the reset button.

“You start playing the ‘poor me’ game, and if you open your eyes and look around, everyone’s got something,” he said. “You sitting there crying about your problems, that isn’t going to help you get out of them. 

"A lot of people have it a lot worse off than I do, and they made it. They conquered it. So that kind of lit that fire under me to get my stuff together, and you know, set my goals, realign my priorities, and away we went.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"From NFR To Wyoming"}]

After its premiere at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas — the Super Bowl of Western sports — “Outriding the Devil” has hit the rodeo trail. That’s included premiering at major Texas events like RodeoHouston and the San Angelo Stock Show & Rodeo.

Now after making waves on a national stage, the film is circling back to where Rusty’s turning point began — Wyoming. The film will have an especially long runway in the Cowboy State with several free premieres ahead.

It will open the College National Finals Rodeo in Casper on June 13, making it one of the rare films to both premiere as an official event of the NFR and later open the college finals as well. 

From there, it heads to Sheridan for the WYO Rodeo kickoff on July 5 and then to Cheyenne Frontier Days, where it will premiere July 16. 

All of these shows will be free to the public thanks to Visit Casper, the Wyoming Foundation for Cancer Care, the WYO Rodeo, and the Gold Buckle Club. 

These Wyoming events will also be the last chances to see “Outriding the Devil” on the big screen, and they’ll include opportunities to quiz the director and rodeo figures after the show.

Streaming deals are being negotiated for a wider, national release, but premiere-style events will end once those begin.

“Outriding the Devil," the Wyoming-made film that shows the brutal side of "real" rodeo, has enjoyed a multi-week run as the No. 1-ranked Western documentary on IMDb and has earned major praise from national outlets like Sports Illustrated. 

You Still Here? Monday, June 8, 2026

In case you missed it

More in You Still Here

Today In Cooking: Monday, June 8, 2026

Bonus Video 2: Monday, June 8, 2026

Bonus Video 1: Monday, June 8, 2026

Steve Inman: Monday, June 8, 2026

Most read