-
Bringing it owl bog home
My latest column for the Minnesota Star Tribune, “I grew up in a Minnesota bog the size of New York City; I didn’t know it was special,” is out now. I know longtime readers already heard my stories about growing up on a junkyard in the Sax-Zim Bog. What can I say? In more ways than…
-
Local Cold War connections remind that some wars never end
When the red flag of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics first snapped in the cold wind above St. Petersburg, Russia, the world changed. Though some 7,000 miles away from the Iron Range, this event altered life here more than most American towns. First of all, the Iron Range was, in 1917, a land of…
-
When a small town wins big
One of the best breaks I ever got was growing up in the tight-knit, hard-working community of Cherry, Minnesota. It’s not that Cherry is anything special to look at. The township is composed of scrub brush, trees and hayfields. The people work as miners, nurses and truck drivers — similar to a lot of folks…
-
Anxiety in store for 2024
The text message comes from my childhood phone number. How? First of all, no one *texts* from a land line in the Sax-Zim Bog. That’s just not possible. Second, what are the chances someone with our old number would want to text me? “Time for a Zoom?” reads the message. There’s a link. Against my…
-
The Hunt for Red October: Cherry Edition
When you’re from Cherry, Minnesota, you get used to certain conversations. For instance, “Where is Cherry?” (Just east of Hibbing). “Lotta hayfields out there.” (Ya). And of course, “Isn’t Gus Hall from Cherry?” (Yes, of course). In fact, I know that fact better than most. I was the last journalist to interview Hall before he…
-
What’s done is never done in 2021
The otter’s hot breath stirs me from my slumber. I do not know how long he’s been standing there. My eyes open to see him on his hind legs, his front paws dangling expectantly in front of his tiny burlap overalls. “Is time,” he whispers. Behind the otter stands a black bear holding an empty…
-
Too Many Sticks: Losing the fight against fifth-grade fascism
As warm winds blow and winter snow melts into vernal rebirth I am reminded of springtime in the fifth grade when the fascists won the war. It was April of 1991. A championship for our Minnesota Twins seemed as unlikely as the fall of the democratic republic my friends and I created on the Cherry…
-
2020 Hindsight: Revisiting the future of our past, Part 3
This is the last of a three-part series. See Part 1 and Part 2. There is no historical blind spot quite like the recent past. The living defend their memories, true or not, with self-interested passion. The recently departed are far more saintly than the long dead. Over the past three weeks I’ve been exploring…
-
2020 predictions column: time for an otter one
“Twenty twenty,” says the ophthalmologist. “That’s my vision?” I ask excitedly. “No, you’re as myopic as a rhino,” she says. “That’s the year to write on your check.” I can’t believe it. It’s 2020 already. The year that we once believed would be “the future.” But here I am, going to the eye doctor like…
-
Northland safe from Halloween horrors … or is it?
“I can’t even imagine.” I never cared for that phrase. Because it’s almost never true. What makes something horrible is not that you can’t imagine it happening, but that you can. Horror is based less on fear of the totally unknown but on fear of the imagined unknown. When you get lost in the woods…
-
A little bit country
The misguided passions of youth run strong. It took time for me to mature into an emotionally stable adult. How old am I? About that long. Maybe longer. One of the teenage fervencies I now regret was my disdain for country music. I grew up in Cherry, which isn’t a town so much as a…
-
When a ditch is more than a ditch
One-hundred and four years ago, the iron mines around North Hibbing ran hot with thawing hematite while the early June weather proved every bit as unpredictable as today’s. The gates to the city seasonal parks swung open in torrential rain, but people still walked through them to sit on the benches. Because, after a long…
-
Oracle projects some otter fate in 2019
Pssh. Sploink. Pssh. Sploink. Pssh. Sploink. Pssh. This is unlike any steam boat I’ve ever been on. Come to think of it, I’ve never been on a steam boat. So this is a first. For one thing, the vessel appears to be homemade. Milk jugs keep it afloat. Twine holds it together. And the paddle…
-
Oral history of this blog with notes
Earlier this week I appeared on the Duluth News Tribune Pressroom Podcast with co-hosts Christa Lawler and Brady Slater, produced by Samantha Erkkila. The podcast team and I had been trying for years to figure out when I’d be in Duluth on a weekday with time to spare. We finally found a moment after my appearance…
-
Real hope for rural broadband on the Iron Range
Growing up I always lived just outside the towns of the Iron Range. Back roads. Cracked pavement and dirt roads. My family ran small businesses. Some lasted a while. Some not so much. Such is the nature of small business. The ‘80s were bad. They were for a lot of people. School changed my life.…