In 1904 a nostalgic Kansan wrote "The sunflower was always out in the open. It did not hide in dark places and it did not seek the shade. It made its own way. It was no parasite. It stood by the dusty roadside and out on the high prairie--and you always knew what it meant...it turned its gold petals and black center always toward the sun. No matter how fiercely the heat beat down it faced the music and never blinked...it was the last bit of vegetation to surrender to the hot winds and it was blithe to the last. It loved life and was genuine."
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