snowbirdredux

WHAT CAN’T BE REPLACED

Posted on March 14, 2012 by snowbirdredux

When Kristen Daum, the Fargo Forum reporter, came to Aunt Lil’s in Hickson, North Dakota last week, we didn’t know what to expect. My cousins – Debbie, Ross and Curt were there, along with Aunt Lil. Kristen had surprised us by asking if she might come and interview our family for a story about the personal side of the diversion project – that massive 2 billion dollar idea to flood out communities in order to save land in Fargo/Moorhead. We accepted. She spent almost two hours sitting around Aunt Lil’s dining table, letting us share our thoughts and concerns. And when she left she said that the plan was to gather as much personal information from families as possible in the next few months and then write a feature story for the Fargo Forum. Good. A new direction. Far more than we had hoped.

But then she called back and said her editors would like to run just our story on Sunday. Wow. Even better.

Sunday brought not just a story, but a FRONT PAGE FEATURE. A BIG FEATURE.

The Fargo newspaper has spent untold months and lots of ink covering all the facts of this project. They have focused on the political grappling, the innumerable meetings, the hows, whys, and wherefores. On top of the usual reportage, they have even chimed in with their own editorial take which consisted of something like – “Whatever your position. Never mind. It’s going to happen!”

Consequently, it was something of a surprise to have the Forum decide to focus upon the personal family story and give us such a prominent feature. And, more importantly, to commit to other local narratives in the future. This Johnson story, after all, sprang from my father’s heritage on the North Dakota banks of the Red River Valley. Just across the dividing line, on the Minnesota side, sits the log cabin where my Grandma Marie first lived and the cemeteries holding her parents, Jens and Kirsten Jonson and her husband, Grandpa Johan with the peonies upon the grave. So many stories to tell.

We’re hoping that our little pebble will bring about lots of big ripples.

Thanks to Kristen Daum, reporter for the Fargo Forum. Her reportage from March 11, 2012 follows:

“RED RIVER DIVERSION THREATENS FAMILY’S LONG LINEAGE IN HICKSON. Lillian Johnson’s home here offers a window into the family’s roots spanning three centuries along the Red River: Those roots, like those of other families in this town 15 miles south of Fargo, would be washed away if the proposed Red River diversion is ever built.

The origin of Johnson’s 105-year-old house is reflected in it’s vintage wallpaper; exposed hot-water heaters and rich woodwork lining every door and window. There are old photographs, heirlooms and family relics that showcase the Johnson’s history – first on the homestead and then, for the past 60 years or so, in the white house on Third Street. But it’s the people and their memories that have made Hickson a lasting home for the Johnsons.

Gathered around their antique dining room table one recent afternoon, members of the family recalled with joy the countless holidays, reunions and vacations spent at the family nest. Johnson’s nephew, Ross Rehder, remembered summers with his grandfather catching catfish and frogs in the Red River. “It was things you don’t ever replace in your childhood, “ said Rehder; now 69, of Comstock, Minn.

But with the diversion project looming in the coming years, the family worries about how many more memories they’ll still be able to have there. “They want to uproot the roots,” said Johnson’s daughter. Debbie Fowler, 59, who now lives in nearby Walcott. “It’s that heritage they want to get rid of.”

The planned diversion around Fargo includes a temporary water storage area south of the city – in actuality, a dam that will displace residents in Hickson, Oxbow and the Bakke subdivision and potentially hundreds of others living as for south as Richland and Wilkin counties. Diversion Authority officials are pursuing solutions they hope will prevent full buyouts of the three towns and minimize other upstream impacts. But for now, affected residents, like the Johnsons, can only plan for the worst-case scenario: A future where their heritage will drown at the expense of flood protection for the Fargo-Moorhead metro area.

In 1870 Jorgan Jacob Johannesen left Norway and immigrated to the Dakota Territory with only a few belongings, a wagon, a cow and two oxen, named Pope and Spot. Johannesen married his neighbor’s daughter, Elen Arent, a match that sparked more than four generations of lineage in Hickson. Although the homestead is now long gone, the site still unites the 12 living great-grandchildren of Jorgan and Elen.

“All of us cousins have made a lot of pilgrimages there in the last few years,” said Lillian’s niece, Diane Johnson, 73. “I was the only one of the (original) 15 cousins who didn’t really grow up here, and I longed for it all my life,” she said. “I just wanted to be a part of it and be a part of the homestead.”

At 88, Lillian Johnson – Johannesen’s granddaughter-in-law – is the family’s matriarch. After marrying Earl Johnson, she moved out to Hickson from Fargo in 1948 and has lived in the family home ever since. “I like it out here,” she said. “I’ve got my own well, it’s 20 minutes to Fargo, and I’m pretty independent, so why would I want to move to town?” Her youngest son, Kevin, 56, has his eyes set on moving home from Arizona and eventually inheriting the Hickson house. “He says, ‘Mom, if they’re going to flood it, how can I move home?’” Lillian Johnson said. “We’re going to fight it.”

Like the majority of other residents in these parts, the Johnson family is angered and worried about the uncertainty of the diversion project. They understand the need for flood protection in Fargo-Moorhead, but not at their expense. “You have to accept change – if it makes sense,” Lillian Johnson said. “I don’t accept change for change’s sake.” Her daughter, Debbie, agrees, wondering why government officials want to spend nearly $2 billion on a project that might help Fargo but won’t make the city immune from a flooding disaster. “It’s such an expensive project, and there’s so many unknowns,” Fowler said. “If we have to sacrifice, fine, we’ll get over it …But you want it to be worth it.”

While the family can move and take their memories with them, some of their heritage simply can’t be relocated, at least not without traumatic disruption. Four generations of Johnson’s are buried in local cemeteries in and around Hickson. The sites are among about a dozen cemeteries south of Fargo-Moorhead that will be affected by the extra water associated with the diversion’s storage area. Hemnes Cemetery – the resting place of Jorgan and Elen Johannesen and other early settlers – could see as much as three feet of extra water, according to the Army Corps of Engineers. In talking with her cousins about their concerns, Diane Johnson learned heartbreaking news – four cemeteries – not three – housing Johnson ancestors stand to be inundated by the project. The fourth cemetery Johnson thought would be safe – the North Pleasant cemetery in Hickson – is the resting place of her father. “I just got goosebumps,” Diane said, crestfallen and throwing up her arms in disgust. “Now, I’m really upset …I’m on a new level of irritation.”

As the Johnsons and other local families deal with the emotional turmoil of planning for the proposed diversion, the possibility remains that the project might not even happen. Despite government leader’s best efforts to continue advancing the project, numerous obstacles could very well delay or halt it indefinitely: a lack of funding, congressional red tape, environmental concerns, lawsuits from passionate opponents and more.

That uncertainty leaves Lillian Johnson and her neighbors in limbo, unsure of how to plan for the future. Relatively simple decisions, like whether to spend $3000 to have her home’s exterior painted, are now complicated choices for Lillian. “I like to keep things up, but this could go on for five, 10 years” Johnson said. “What do I do?” “It’s heartbreaking,” she added. “All my life, I said if I could ever live long enough so that I didn’t have any bills and I had enough money to bury me so I wouldn’t be a burden on my children – I’d be happy. Well, when you reach that point in life, and then they want to take it all away from you, it just doesn’t seem right.”

Posted in COMMUNITY, faith, Family, favorite things, Immigration, In Memorium, minnesota life | Leave a comment

SAM I AM!

Posted on March 12, 2012 by snowbirdredux

This is the year that this boy becomes 18. What his grandfather calls – “A Milestone Birthday!”

Samuel Aaron Johnson, fittingly, officially moves into adulthood in the year 2012. Sam and I bonded a few years ago on the topic of 2012. We both acknowledged an interest in the Mayan prediction that the world would be vastly changed with the ending of the Mayan calendar. Some soothsayers actually predict a cataclysmic end-time, citing December 21, 2012 as the end date of the 5,125 year long cycle in the Mesoamerican Long Count Calendar. Cue in sound effects and cinema animatronic disaster!

Not so, I believe. But I’ll opt to a belief for transition and new direction for the future. And now I will pronounce – “Starring Sam Johnson!”

This is the picture on my desk.

Who would have suspected all those years ago that this boy would be driving my car –

– would trounce his dad and grandfather in croquet –

– would defy gravity –

– would be studying Aruvedic medicine and excelling in “conscious rap, i.e. Hip Hop”

Happy Birthday Sam. I would say you’re vastly ahead of the curve in your own inimitable way.

But will you please solve the mystery of the Star Tetrahedron!

I have folded up the stupid paper a million times and can’t get it right. #@&*^%(#@@!$%^&*&!

I know you can do it. I believe in you.

(For those who would like to try to beat Sam, here are the directions:

1. Cut out the outline.

2. Cut along all heavy lines.

3. Score plain lines on the front.

4. Score dotted lines on the back.

5. fold triangles upward along plain lines.

6. Fold triangles downward along dotted lines.

7. Glue or tape tabs to form small tetrahedrons.

8. Continue until you have a star tetrahedron. `

Note: “This will take concentration, so don’t be discouraged. It might be helpful to make several copies.” – Drunvalo Melchizedek

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SOUND THE TRUMPETS!

Posted on March 10, 2012 by snowbirdredux

“It sounded like the Gestapo coming for Anne Frank!” he said, as he described the flight of birds he had heard that day, flying directly over our house. “Like a European siren you hear in foreign films – something between a bugle and a bassoon.” We hear the Canada Geese on their “fly-abouts” every day, so I knew that T.M. had experienced something special.

My hopeful guess was that we had been graced by a flock of Trumpeter Swans. And that was a long shot, given that they had been hunted almost to extinction in the early 20^th century. But in my “Birds of the Great Plains”, their voice is said to “be a loud bugling, which is produced when air is forced through the long windpipe that runs through the keel of the bird’s breastbone.”

And I recently read that they are making a comeback, everywhere from Nebraska, the Dakotas to our own Minnesota. That could be partly because we no longer need their excellent feathers for lovely quill pens. And we’ve moved on to bison burgers and heritage turkeys for our culinary adventures.

If they were primarily hunted to extinction for their feathers and meat, you can see why we no longer yearn to prepare the following recipe: “To bake a swan, scald it and take out the bones, parboil, season with pepper, salt and ginger, then lard it, and put it in a deep coffin of rye paste with a store of butter, close it and bake it very well, and when it is baked, fill up the vent-hole with melted butter, and so keep it. Serve it as you do Beef Pie.” Yum?

But I have longed to see them for myself. Cygnus buccinator is our largest water fowl, often measuring 6’ by 7” feet with a wing span of 10 feet and an ability to fly up to 80 miles per hour. And they live for up to 30 years. Impressive. No wonder that Zeus took on the form of a swan in order to woo Leda, the Queen of Sparta, and that their union produced one of the renowned beauties of the world, Helen of Troy.

Just 50 years ago in Minnesota, there were none. By 1994, with concerted conservation effort, there were 250. Today, it is thought that there are 1500 in the upper Midwest. I counted 24 at the big bend in the Ottertail River near our house on Mt. Faith last week. And just like the Ugly Duckling at the end of the Hans Christian Anderson tale, they “rustled their feathers and raised their slender necks aloft.”

BON APPETIT!

Posted in Birds, favorite things, minnesota life, Wild Life | Leave a comment

PLEASE PAY ATTENTION!

Posted on March 5, 2012 by snowbirdredux

There may be wars and threats of wars in our greater world, odious politicians yapping for special interests across our continent, inner city crime and rising gas prices, zero growth jobs, jobs, jobs, hunger and cancer – but all of the above and more, is eclipsed by a threat to the foundation which makes it all possible. Our Mother Earth.

Such ills will be inconsequential if there is no longer a stage to play upon. It’s hard to wrap one’s head around, I know. This globe of ours, rotating ever and always through the heavens, seems so basic and primeval, eternal and vast, that it only stands to reason that it must be immutable, omnipotent and sacrosanct. But no. We leave it to the scientists to worry over and sometimes dispute the ones who do, but more and more the evidence is alarming and clear.

I got to thinking more seriously about our planet this morning as I read the weather report in the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Paul Douglas has been my go-to guy because he’s incredibly smart and writes a good “jokey” column each day and manages to frame the dull subject of climatology in most readable terms. How does he do it? And in spite of the old adage – “everyone wants to talk about the weather, but no one wants to do anything about it” – I get the feeling that Paul is asking us to wake up before it’s too late.

Here’s what he had to say:

“A speechless meteorologist? Oxymoron. I’m watching tornado coverage on CNN, scanning the SPC web site – 98 tornadoes on Friday. Unusual, even for late April. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Mother Nature is having a loud, violent nervous breakdown. America’s weather has always been severe, but this is awe-inspiring and very sad. The Symphony of Seasons is playing wildly out of tune; a Beethoven concerto with a rap-funk beat. Suddenly the weather maps make no sense. Mile-wide tornadoes, epic floods, drought; flowers already in bloom in New England? We’ll see 50 by Tuesday; the GFS hints at 70 by mid-March. We seemed to have skipped a month. Or two. A warmer atmosphere holds more water, more fuel for storms. Uh oh, I feel a climate change lecture coming on. Spare us a Sunday sermon. Why remind us? Because this will be one of the three big stories of the 21^st century. Because someday your grandkids may come up and ask what you knew, when, and what you did about it. Outbreaks of bizarre weather are a symptom – our atmosphere is running a fever. IF YOU’RE NOT AT ALL CONCERNED, YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION.”

(last two photos compliment of Maxine Russell – Pfeiffer Beach, Big Sur, California)

Posted in favorite things, global warming, In Memorium, introspection, storm | Leave a comment

ENVIRONS

Posted on March 3, 2012 by snowbirdredux

Okay – Kevin, Steven, Tony and Jenny, Sheila – and all our California friends who now stand poised to marvel, exclaim and covet the following: In the center of Fergus Falls, Minnesota, sits Lake Alice, ringed by a panorama of historical homes. These are just a sampling –

One of them is now for sale and currently being considered by one of our local friends. And who wouldn’t consider purchasing this three story Gothic beauty for – $49,000. Yes. You know and must admit, dear friends and family, that $49,000 would not buy a junk yard dog trailer in Carmel, Ca. If there WAS a junk yard dog trailer in Carmel. And no pressure here, but you see my point.

VIEW OF THE LAKE FROM THE FRONT PORCH.

This charmer on Lake Alice is only two blocks from historic downtown Fergus Falls and three blocks from the Otter Tail River Walk and one block from the Riverview Sanctuary (not to mention about a mile from our own residence on Mt. Faith).

ENVIRONS – “ – a circuit, to turn, to encircle”

ENVIRONMENT – “ – all the conditions, circumstances, and influences surrounding and affecting”

Which brings me to my point. Moving to this place on a hill above the river in a small-ish Minnesota town, has not only brought a drastic change in tangible environment, what with weather “incidents” quite unlike the central western coast we left behind, but it has opened up a most satisfying circle of contentment.

I wrote recently about the “special-ness” perspective experienced by residents of Big Sur, Ca. I think it is more extensive than that. Californians, in general, (not all, but some) think they are the center of the universe and maybe, with the exception of New York and selected points in between – Aspen, Taos, to name a few – believe that anything of importance or relevance only occurs within their charmed perimeters. It’s the “all roads lead to Rome” syndrome. It’s an acknowledgment that “we are cool, and you are not!” It’s a bully system that denigrates much of the continent.

I am guilty. It’s true. I grew up wanting to be a part of my family “back there”, while at the same time exalting in my so-called and all-in-my-head, coastal sophistication. How little I knew.

I will love California and all the sweet familiarity of my past ‘til my dying day. The craggy bluffs and wide beaches of Long Beach. I know each and every neighborhood with a familiarity that almost hurts my heart. It will always be home in a way that no other place can provide.

Big Sur and Carmel – no contest. How lucky we were to inhabit paradise for a time. I can “dine out” on tales of the central coast for years to come. Portland and Ferndale. Morro Bay and Atascadero. Newport Beach. San Diego. All the “ocean and the palm trees and mountains” of my mother’s dream come true. In many ways I was the Golden Girl from the Golden State.

Given all that – these new environs have brought a sweet contentment, a happily shocking social calendar, and a friendship scale which encompasses more creativity, artistic pursuits and intellectual and political stimulus than we thought possible in California. Throw in the revelation that Minnesota Nice is not just a slogan but an ingrained way of life, and we’re home.

Across the street – Mt. Faith. But no pressure. Really.

Posted in COMMUNITY, Family, favorite things, friendship, introspection, minnesota life | 1 Comment

BAFFLEMENT

Posted on February 27, 2012 by snowbirdredux

I was finally forced to get baffles for the bird feeders. They look clumsy and odd and spoil the welcoming appearance of our seed supply which is meant to be an attractive addition to the garden. The shepherd’s hooks rise and drape with alternating dinner stations – tubes, hoppers, platforms, baskets; sunflower, mixed wild, suet and thistle. I like their aesthetics. But enough is enough!

The Minnesota grey squirrels are less invasive, it’s true, than our California thugs. We were truly at war on the west coast as they ripped tiles off the roof, chewed my hammock to shreds, gnawed through a heavy ten gallon seed container, and played acorn hockey in the attic. And they stood and shrieked back at me when I chased them off the bird deck.

When we first came to Mt. Faith as veterans of bushy tailed rodent hostility, we viewed the northern cousins as inferior combatants. When they shinnied up the poles, I greased them with Crisco. (Caveat: I thought I was so clever, but a Star Tribune birder advised against this practice which might lead to greased feathers!) If I said “Boo”, they ran for the trees. I read in my bird books that they evidently suffered a high mortality rate because of the harsh cold conditions ahead. So I waited with a ghoulish sort of anticipation, knowing that it might be only a matter of time.

It’s almost March and after a mostly brown winter with one major snow storm (yesterday), they are thriving. In fact, our yard is alive with frenzied furry tree rodents. They are everywhere and emboldened. The only time they seem deterred or fazed in the least, is when pursued by their runty, half-sized red cousins, who ferociously, furiously, and with lightning speed have them running for their lives. What’s that about? Google doesn’t say.

I am hopeful that our new mode of intervention will do the trick. These are Bird Feeders, after all.

UH! OH!

Posted in Birds, minnesota life, Wild Life | 1 Comment

SOMEPLACE SAFE

Posted on February 26, 2012 by snowbirdredux

Yesterday I attended a Ladies Tea. Above all it was a visual delight, each table a riot of someone’s fantasy. Thirty five themes. Cacophonous, gorgeous, silly, whimsical, enchanting. You name it.

Not to mention fun. And yummy.

Best of all, it was a fundraiser for an organization which covers nine communities in central western Minnesota, providing help to victims of domestic violence, sexual assault, and general crime with emergency shelters and a 24 hour crisis hot line. Everyone needs Someplace Safe.

* * *

Fortunately the tea was held yesterday with the roads clear and the sun shining. Today we are having the first major storm of the season. Church services were cancelled. The highway which passes by Fergus Falls is closed for 60 miles in either direction. The snow plows have not appeared. And the snow keeps coming.

An Icicle for the Record Books!

Biscuits for breakfast. Pork roast and stuffing for dinner. A stack of good books. We’re definitely someplace safe.

New Island in Kitchen

Open Shelves

My favorite wall

Posted in COMMUNITY, favorite things, food, minnesota life, remodeling, storm | 1 Comment

RIGHT MAKES MIGHT

Posted on February 20, 2012 by snowbirdredux

Red River of the North at the homestead

Ever since we moved to Minnesota last spring, there has been a looming, ironic, unfortunate happening in the wings. In January I wrote about it in an entry entitled “The Irony of it All.” To recap – the Army Corps of Engineers has created a proposal to provide flood protection for the greater Fargo, N.D./Moorhead, MN. Community by diverting the Red River of the North at an upstream location by building a 54,000 acre dam and reservoir which will flood whole communities, century farms, homesteads, historic sites, 13 cemeteries, schools and churches. And you guessed it – right in the midst of my ancestral dreams and heritage.

It’s only too true that the Fargo area is prone to flooding each year. Some years more than others. I’m sorry for that. It’s also true that Fargo was built into a natural drainage swamp, and developers, doing what developers do, kept going and going without regard to Mother Nature. My pioneer ancestors, on the other hand, came to the great prairies, looked around with care, and built accordingly.

The Red River of the North actually flows to the north and because the area farthest north is often still frozen when the snow begins to melt each year, and because the river is lacking in naturally steep banks, it is inevitable that there will be flooding somewhere. But savvy pioneers chose to build their houses upon a slight rise and began to practice drainage, creating ditches to allow the inevitable water to disburse naturally. Uncle Ralph taught me that.

Their descendents, in desperation and heartbreak, have now banded together with mndakupstreamcoalition.com and fmdam.org and taken to battle in spite of much clamoring of “inevitability.”

From the beginning it was suggested that there be a flood of “letters to the editor” but with the caveat that writers should fight figures with facts and not resort to a personal diatribe. Good advice. If the wisdom of the project is to be challenged and overthrown, it might best come about by proving it otherwise. On the engineer’s own terms. No quarrel with this reasoning.

But being an English major, and unable to pull geometrical/atmospherical formulae out of my wordy brain style, I finally succumbed by writing a most personal appeal anyway, based on “The Irony of it All” and sent it off to Kristen Daum, the Fargo Forum reporter in charge of the reportage regarding the Red River Diversion Project.

And she answered! Furthermore, she admitted that she was now “actively trying to reach out to more residents who will be affected by this project” and “my personal story is just the sort” that she wanted to tell. But best of all – “Also, I’m planning to do a long-term, in-depth story aiming to tell the personal side of this project. Would you and your family in Hickson/Comstock mind if I visited with you sometime in the coming weeks to talk more about this?”

We’re still the proverbial Davids against Goliath. The odds will not be reversed on the basis of my simple scribblings. But think about “Mr. Deeds Goes to Washington.” Of the Tortoise and the Hare. Of King Arthur. Might doesn’t make right. The personal story, I believe, is ever the most potent and powerful. Not mine, but all of us together.

Posted in COMMUNITY, faith, Family, Immigration, minnesota life | Leave a comment

MORE LIKE IT!

Posted on February 18, 2012 by snowbirdredux

Now this is more like it. This is what the God of the North intended for Minnesotans in the middle of February. And I suppose it’s just a brief blip in the weather map for 2012, brown grass and exposed concrete being the new norm, but it brought back a sense of reality and a re-affirmation of what we envisioned when we made this leap of faith across the continent. West coasters from the tropical climes, I must admit, are prone to react with shrieks of delight when encountering all this magical white stuff wafting down. It’s still a wondrous novelty. “It’s snowing!” I whoop. “Come look!” And I can’t tear myself away from the pane then, entranced and mesmerized by this lovely phenomenon.

I know. I know. Wait ‘til I have to muck through the slush and shovel the drive. Wait ‘til I’m blizzer’d out on the way to the Service Market. Wait ‘til it goes on and on and it’s May. But those thoughts come in defense to specific nay-sayers and I have found that such negativity is not really rampant in these parts. Some northerners like to wear the atmospheric harshness as a badge of honor. “Look what we have to endure!” “You just try and get through our winter!”

I get that. When we lived on the rugged Big Sur coast of California, I slipped at times into the “special-ness” syndrome. The unspoken but underlying belief that the hearty bunch who chose to reside in this splendiferous, exalted, dramatic, difficult paradise have been tested and proven worthy. We could drive the famous (and infamous) Highway One, zig-zaging boulders, traversing land slides, reeling off onto goat-trail dirt roads to our ridge-top aeries and feel a sense of pride.

It was a daily dose of grandiosity. And when tourists appeared in our shops and restaurants, a bit shaken by the precipitous drive along 90 miles of coastline, we smiled and felt comfort in our own knowledge and familiarity with every twist and turn. We earned it.

Yet when it comes right down to actual Minnesota negativity about the winter, I have been surprised at the outranking number of enthusiasts. “Oh no, I love winter!” they are likely to declaim. Followed by – “Do you ski?” Or “Oh, it’s so beautiful, so quiet. The best time to curl up with a good book.” And even – “It’s my favorite time of year.”

The more worrisome thought comes from Paul, our local weatherman, who is beginning to sound the alarm for a new paradigm, a possible change in the atmosphere that will be more than a blip in a season, a turnaround of stratospheric proportions, an alteration in the necessary patterns of Mother Earth.

I’m going to stop apologizing for my lack of experience. I’m going to refrain from getting the jump on the inevitable – “…but you haven’t been through a winter yet!” And I’m simply going to enjoy the magic. And hope it lasts.