After 37 years of federal service, Jeffery Still, a former Marine, wanted to stay busy post retirement. Not for him a quiet, sedentary retirement of TV and nonstop relaxation.

William Hoffman’s life is defined by a simple rule: “Put a slash through the word ‘no.’”

“To me there is such a joy and beauty being outside in creation,” says John Riddell, who is most happy enjoying the glories of Lancaster County’s changing seasons from the seat of his bicycle. “Riding inside is really boring.”

Most of us know the story of the child and the starfish. After a storm, thousands of starfish are washed up on the beach. A child walks by and starts throwing individual starfish back into the sea.

After a nearly seven years of active duty in a 29-year career with the Army Reserve, Brian Linton came home safely. Yet after a deployment in Kuwait, he started waking up in the middle of the night, heart racing, in a cold sweat.

“It’s addictive and safe. There is no contact. All you need is gloves, eye guards, and a ball,” says Kevin Gibson, 67, an avid handball player, personal fitness trainer, ordained minister, and mentor in the HOPE in Handball program at Harrisburg’s East Shore YMCA.

It’s hard to imagine a life that spans a tough job as special agent enforcing safety regulations for trucks coming through the Mexican border; succeeding as a finalist in a national beauty competition; and handing out hugs and stuffed animals to strangers in the park.

When Jack Billmyer was stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs in 1972, the military decided to get serious about keeping young recruits out of trouble. Billmyer and the other young soldiers, who were the last Vietnam War draftees, were sent to learn how to ski.

“If I do write my memoirs, they would sizzle,” says Jan Swarr, with a laugh that is never far away as the story of her life tumbles from her in jubilant waves.

On a rainy night, when the wind is howling and the rest of us are safe and warm in our homes, Tracie A. Young, licensed wildlife rehabilitator, knows she’s going to have a busy night.

When you think of a fundraising tour-de-force, you immediately think of Betty Hungerford. Hungerford has repeatedly broken down barriers for women in Harrisburg’s public relations profession throughout her remarkable career.

For many young people, old age is impossible to imagine.

It was a sunny afternoon, with “Papa” pushing 5.5-year-old Aria on the swings, when she told her grandfather a fascinating tale of her toy Ducky’s surprise birthday party. André Renna had to listen hard to catch the story between each pass of the swing.

Louis Meevers-Scholte was born in a windmill in a small Dutch village in 1934. Eventually both Meevers-Scholte and the windmill would end up in America, bearing scars of a war that defined his childhood.

A group of six vets are playing guitars as part of downtown Lancaster’s Music for Everyone Friday-night art celebration. The audience smiles, taps their feet, and hums along as the group plays a crowd favorite, John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”

Nannette Swanson explains that volunteering with Recycle Bicycle Harrisburg has been the perfect solution to the quarantine restrictions.

Joanne Walcerz has joyfully embraced each change in a life journey full of twists and turns — with enough nail-biting adventures for a Hollywood thriller. Her life of growth and transformation is certainly a model for a time of crisis that demands new norms and painful lifestyle changes.

R.J. Harris’s Reading backyard wasn’t just a place to play ball or cut the grass on Saturdays. It was a potential treasure trove.

How do you explain why 51,000 men were killed, wounded, captured, or missing in just three days of fighting in America’s bloodiest battle?