August 2014 – Thoughts Towards a Better World

#930 – Dick Bernard: Our (Minnesota) State Fair; and remembering North Dakota and Texas as well.

August 29, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Minnesota, North Dakota /by dickbernard

Yesterday I spent three or so hours at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s “my” state fair, and as the song from the musical goes, it’s “the best state fair in our state”. Over the last 50 years or so I’ve often been to the Minnesota State Fair. It’s something like a piece of genetic code. When the last 12 days of the month of August arrive, I know that I will, at least once, go to the State Fair.
Plenty of folks share that gene, I know. The State Fair has been attracting people for over 150 years, just a year less than Minnesota has been a state.
Out at the ND farm of my mother, was this postcard from way back:
(click to enlarge)

Postcard dated 100 years ago, Sep. 22, 1914, featuring Minnesota State Fair.

I’m no high-roller at the Fair: yesterdays total cost was about $26.00, including $5 for bus to the Fair; $8 to get in (senior citizens day); $5 for deep fried veggies; $8 for a cup of Sweet Martha’s Cookies, most of which came home with me. Even for me, this was a cheapskate day. A period of light rain interfered, and some of my usual stops I just passed by. But I’m glad I went. I happened to be near leaving when the daily parade started. It was fairly short, but nice. Several bands, and almost a herd of those gigantic cows advertising this or that.

Minnesota State Fair Parade August 28, 2014

The real fun of this fair – any fair – is people watching. We’re all odd, in our unique sorts of ways. “Ships passing in the [daylight]” as it were. For the most part, at the Fair, pretense and conventional wisdom is left at the door. Who cares if I’m overweight; who’ll notice that piece of fatty bacon I paid far too much for, and is laden with all sorts of dangerous things, but is oh, sooooo gooooood. For a moment, when I was seeing those gigantic cows being dragged along I thought of as some kind of state fair deity.

August 28, 2014

Almost exclusively I know the Minnesota State Fair. It is my only point of reference.
But a couple of memorable other State Fairs come to mind.
In the summer of 2007 I happened to be in Minot ND at the time of the North Dakota State Fair. Pretty neat fair, if I do say so myself. The Motel proprietor saw fit to give me a ticket to the grandstand show the evening I was there, featuring a country-western guy I’d never heard of. It was a great show. Every now and then I take a listen to one of his songs, “What Was I Thinking”. Had I not been to the ND State Fair, I never woulda known….

Dierks Bentley, July 27, 2007, North Dakota State Fair, Minot ND

Then there was a time way back in the 1970s when I happened to be in Dallas at the time of the Texas State Fair, I believe it was in October, if memory serves. I had an entire evening to kill between the end of my conference, and catching a bus at about 4 a.m. to go visit my brother and family in Altus Oklahoma.
The Fair itself was quite alright. Very large, different from Minnesota, but that was to be expected.
I went back to the Bus Depot to wait for my bus.
Bus depots, late at night, are not for the faint of heart. This particular night, somebody plopped down beside me, mumbled a little, and seemed to pass out. I thought to myself, probably drunk. Then I looked at his arm, and he was all bloody. Some police came in, and something of a surreal scuffle ensued. Nobody said anything. When the dust settled, I learned that my seat mate had been shot by someone at the Texas State Fair.
It was a relief to get on the bus heading towards Ft. Worth. I struck up a conversation with the couple seated in front of me. They were from Ft Worth, they said, and were on their way home. Why by bus? Their car had been stolen at the Fair.
Ah yes, our State Fair is a great State Fair!

#929 – Dick Bernard: Aiming at the Moon (and hitting ourselves); a thought on redefining how we see relationships with our world, and about the matter of changing attitudes..

August 24, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Family History, History, North Dakota, Politics, War /by dickbernard

Early Wednesday morning, August 21, I was heading out for coffee from my motel in LaMoure ND, and a sight begging to be photographed appeared a few steps to my left, and I couldn’t pass on it. Here’s the snapshot. The waning moon appeared to be in the “bullseye”.
(click to enlarge)

August 21, 2014, 6:15 a.m., LaMoure ND

I’m very familiar with the sight: I stay often at this motel. August 10, on a previous trip, I’d taken a photo of the permanently on display Minuteman Missile you see in the photo. But this one, with the moon as the bullseye, was unique. I just looked up the Phase of the Moon I photographed that day: here.
More about this missile at the end of this post.
My trips to LaMoure, these past months especially, have always been work, both physical and emotional. I go into a “news blackout”, basically, too busy to read a newspaper; too tired to even watch TV news. So it wasn’t until I arrived home late on the 21st that I learned of the decapitation of the American journalist in Syria by an ISIS person with a distinctly British accent; and I saw the image of some ISIS hotshots showing off with some American tank, either purchased or captured in Iraq and now part of the ISIS arsenal.
Suddenly our omnipotence does not seem so potent. The radicals in ISIS seem far more dangerous and ominous than al Qaeda a few years ago, essentially thumbing their collective noses at us, using our own weapons and tactics, and we can’t do a thing about it. So we debate around the edges of the true reality, which is we can no longer control the world, and our past actions have consequences. We now debate on whether or not we should pay ransom to rescue captured journalists or others, and we face the prospect of dealing with shadowy enemies who look and talk just exactly like us. (“American” are very diverse, should anyone not have noticed. The traditional order has irreversibly changed.)
This is a very complex situation in which we find ourselves, even worse than our no-win Iraq adventure which began in 2003 with bragging that we had won that war less than two months into that awful and deadly and endless conflict (which still continues).
We now have to live within the world which we have made.
When I got home this week, I decided to review the history of the Minuteman Missile, which was a creature of my time in North Dakota.

August 10, 2014, LaMoure ND

We Americans love our weaponry: the Biblical “Ploughshares” doesn’t seem to have a chance against “Swords”. We’re so strong, armed so well, peace runs a far distant second to the advantage of overwhelming military superiority – or so goes the conversation. Look for Monuments to Peace in your circuits. And to War. And see who wins. (One organization I support whose sole mission is a Peace Memorial is here. Check it out.)
Googling “Minuteman North Dakota” just now brought forth a North Dakota Historical Society site which for some odd reason is dedicated to President Ronald Reagan.
The Minutemen were children of Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson during the Cold War, and were planted between 1961-67 in the heat of the Cold War (Reagan was in office much later, 1981-89).
When you’re talking man-up, whose name is attached to manning-up matters, I guess.
I see lowly ploughshares memorialized from time to time, but they’re seldom named for a person, compared with war memorials, they are minuscule in number.
FDR was President when the Nuclear Age was born; and Truman was President when the Atomic Bombs were first used, and Eisenhower was at the helm when other weapons of mutually assured destruction were developed and tested.
Actually, all the military toys ought to be dedicated to “we, the people” who fund, and indeed have insisted on their development through our Congress, which by action (or inaction) authorizes endless war and military investment.
(Changing this reality is not simple: for instance, my Grandmother on the ND farm* 10 miles from that Missile in the photos, was joyful when the A-Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945(Atomic Bomb 1945001). Her bias was her son, an officer on a Destroyer in the Pacific. She wanted him home safe. The U.S. War Department, then, rhapsodized in public relations releases that this deadly bomb might be the key to ending war forever.
And Saturday night I was at a Minnesota Twins baseball game with a family group which included my granddaughters father-in-law. He’s a great guy. Much of his career as an Air Force enlisted man was making sure those ND Minuteman sites were secure….)
As a country we have supported these symbols of our supposed omnipotence, without regard to partisan designation. It is dangerous for a politician to speak against War.
Now a few countries, especially the U.S. and Russia, are awash in nuclear weapons which, if ever used, even one, by some lawless renegade leader or thief, will take a long step towards mutually assured destruction of everyone downwind.
The conventional wisdom back then, that our strength was in military superiority, was not only wrong, but stupid.
We’re in a hole of our own making, and best that we figure out it’s worth our while to not only stop digging, but try other means of co-existing.
We’re part of, not apart from, a much bigger world than just within our borders.
Change can happen, but it always happens slowly. Be the one person who is, as Gandhi said, “the change you wish to see.”
* POSTNOTE: On that same farm, in the yard in November, 1957, I and others watched Sputnik as it blinked on and off in the black night ski. In those days, newspapers carried maps of where you could see Sputnik. In my memory (I was 17 then, and a senior in high school), the trajectory was from SSE to NNW, but I could be wrong. Sputnik was a big, big deal. Earlier, in early teen years, Grandpa would rail on about the Communists, who were sort of abstract to me, then, but it fits, now, with my knowledge of the great Red Scare, Sen. Joe McCarthy, HUAC, etc. And earlier still, would be the Flash Gordon novel which somebody had bought sometime, and was pretty ragged, but featured the Ray Gun (early Laser fantasy?), and Flash Gordon’s conflict with the evil ones. I have recently been going through all of the belongings of that old house, and I keep looking for that ragged old Flash Gordon book, but my guess is I won’t find it….
UPDATE AND COMMENT:
long-time good friend Bruce F responded to my post as follows:
I wonder,Dick, how these rag-tag radical groups in SW Asia can out gun and defeat government armies that we train and supply.
My guess is that in one form or another we supply and train them. In order to be the world’s largest arms dealer, the military industrial machine needs to work both sides to continue to expand profits.
Comment:
The key word in Bruce’s comment (to me, at least) is the word “we”. Who is “we”? And when?
Otherwise I’d agree with what seems to be the general thrust of Bruce’s comment: the unwieldy entity called the “United States” (primarily we citizens, collectively), have allowed this to evolve.
I doubt ISIS (or ISIL) or the “Caliphate” will have a long life. It will not become a new North Korea.
The regional situation is extraordinarily messy. It is difficult to identify who is “friend” or “enemy” at any particular time. The latest ISIS casualty publicized in this area was a graduate of a local Minneapolis suburban high school in 1990 who embraced a radical philosophy about 10 years ago.
The President of the United States is stuck in a quandary, which delights his enemies. There is nothing he can do which will not be legitimately criticized by someone. The U.S. Congress, which should be making the key decisions per its Constitutional obligation to make policy on War, generally, will continue to escape and evade its responsibility.
But it remains we Americans who through our own lack of engagement have helped create the monster which we now can scarcely understand, and hardly know how to turn around.

#928 – Dick Bernard: Greg H on Ferguson MO

August 21, 2014/0 Comments/in Guns, History, Media, Minnesota, Technology /by dickbernard

UPDATE: Overnight, August 22, “Policing the Masses”, some thoughts on the down side of crowd control.
Grace Kelly’s proposal, presented in the August 7 post (written back in May, before Ferguson; it is at the end of the post), is the basis for conversation and action anywhere. If you haven’t read it yet, consider doing so now. It is simply an idea, to be developed in different ways in different places.

Don Thimmesch (undated). See note at end of post.

A good friend of mine, Greg, is an attorney and retired prosecutor in this major metropolitan area. He’s sent three comments during the times of the incident in Ferguson, and I present them below as received. His is a perspective flowing from experience. Below his comments are a couple of my own flowing from the three previous posts on the topic of police and violence, which can be accessed here, here and here.
Greg H, Aug 15, 2014: A year ago or so [ago] I caught the testimony of a local police chief before a Congressional committee. In part, he chronicled the increase in fire power of the weapons issued to his patrol officers, in a small community.
The latest upgrade was to a weapon similar to that used in the Sandy Hook school shootings.
The police chief explained to the Congressional committee members that the reason for his community spending money to equip patrol officers with more lethal weapons was simply to prevent his officers from being out gunned by the bad people.
Just today we learned the suspect in the murder of the local police officer [Mendota Heights MN, August 7 post] during a traffic stop had told a woman friend days earlier that he planned to kill a cop. He also told her he had been smoking meth for several days.
As to Ferguson, I prefer to wait for the facts of the confrontation between Mr. Brown and the officer before reaching any conclusions.
Greg, Aug 18: A letter to the editor published in the August 16th Star Tribune…pointed out that the population of Ferguson is about 67 percent African American, yet four of the six elected city council members and the mayor are Caucasian. I do not mean to imply that electing more African American individuals to city government will solve all problems. However, as we well know elections do have consequences.
Also, whether that police officer did or did not know Mr. Brown was a suspect in a recently-committed robbery, Mr. Brown knew what he had done and of course he did not know whether the police officer was also aware of what he had done.
This does not appear to me to be an easy-to-understand situation. I am still wanting to know more about what happened.
Greg, Aug 20: A Mike Meyers op ed piece was published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune today, introducing us to that city as it was in the 1950s- and 1960s as he grew up there. [Meyers is a former reporter for Minneapolis Star Tribune]. Pretty much confirmed my opinion. Reminds me of Studs Terkel. I do not mean Meyers’ column justifies 2014 life in Ferguson, but it does, I think, help us understand how we got to 2014.
Chris Matthews in his sign off opinion comment on Hardball last night [MSNBC] was to the same point. He suggested the root cause of the problems between the races in Ferguson is more about economic disparity than racism. As is playing out across our country, there just are no longer well-paying jobs for people who have only a high school diploma. Actually that is true also for many people with only a bachelor college degree.
Students from Ferguson attend Normandy High School located in a nearby community. Students come from 24 communities to attend that school, whose enrollment is 98 percent Black. Michael Brown was a member of the Class of 2014. Here is a link to a story from NBC News. Grim picture.
How many graduates are ready to face the challenges of the 21st Century? How many Normandy graduates attend college or any other post secondary education schools? In 2012 the school lost its accreditation. The state has taken over operation of the school. All teachers were required to reapply for their jobs, 40 percent of whom were not hired back.
Indicting, convicting the involved police officer will do nothing to address these root causes.
Parting Thoughts as I leave this topic:
My instincts tend strongly to supporting police. While I’ve never owned a weapon, guns for hunting have been a regular part of my surroundings since I was a little kid.
I am long past the illusion that because I grew up in rural North Dakota, before African-Americans were part of my surroundings, that I am race-neutral. We all grew up with messages…. Native-Americans (“Indians”) seem to have been our race of choice.
As demonstrated by events in recent weeks, guns, especially ever more sophisticated weaponry, and the uncertainties of human behavior are not a good combination; and racial tensions are never far below the surface. Guns are not good mediators, and those who “win” at the point of a gun, are the ultimate losers, almost always. The guy who shot the policeman here a few weeks ago may as well be dead; the policeman who shot the man in Ferguson will never recover either, even if totally vindicated.
I agree with Greg that the entire picture is not yet clear in Ferguson. At the same time, what happened there has rippled out, everywhere, not soon to be forgotten. And proximity to a deadly weapon was not good for the officer, whether he ultimately is exonerated or not.
These issues: weapons, race, and police-community relationships generally, are important topics. Ongoing.
NOTE about photo: Don Thimmesch was the husband of my mothers first cousin, and next-ND-farm-over neighbor, Cecilia Berning. He was one of the first 50 uniformed Iowa State Highway Patrol officers in the mid-1930s.

#927 – Dick Bernard: Guns and Relationships

August 19, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Family History, Guns, History, North Dakota /by dickbernard

Shortly I leave on yet another trip to the North Dakota farm, continuing the long summer of preparing the place for new occupants. It has been a lot of work, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe this trip, to deal with the last of the scrap metal, and some other miscellany, might take care of at least the physical side of the effort. There remains the emotional: I’ve had far more of an investment in that place than I ever realized, and I knew that farm was important to me, though I never actually lived there. Just occasional visits from childhood on; then a week or so each year helping my Uncle with harvest. It was my hub: the house, the barn, the surrounding fields, the wheat golden when last I left about a week ago, the apple trees (this year very heavy with apples)….
And back home, each box of “junk” from that farm yields some treasure. This Oliver Writer Nr. 3 for instance, one of the first typewriters produced in quantity circa 1902.
(click to enlarge photos)

Oliver Typewriter Model Nr. 3 circa 1902, as it appears August, 2014

But as I leave this computer screen shortly for the now very familiar trip 310 miles west, my thoughts will be on other things. Past will be prelude: I do not “keep up” with the news on-the-road. What I know now, is what I will know when I resume life back home in a couple of days.
Ferguson MO, and what that all means, will likely be much on my mind. Here’s the last post I received about that terrible situation, 1:43 a.m.
How do I fit in with all that is Ferguson MO right now?
Two weeks ago I stood for near three hours at Somerset School on Dodd Road in nearby Mendota Heights watching hundreds of police cars pass in honor of their fallen comrade, Scott Patrick, who was gunned down by a career criminal, a white guy, who, he said himself, hated cops. That day seems so long ago now.
There are so many thoughts. Here, one guy with a gun, by all appearances an ordinary motorist who’d done something dumb, killed another guy, the policeman, who had no reason to feel he’d have to use his own gun.
The policeman is dead, no worries for him; the killer may have felt some temporary euphoria, but not for long.
What benefit did the gun give the one who used it?
None at all.
Still, we are absolutely awash in weapons in this country. It is our right to be armed and dangerous.
At the farm I’ll visit in a few hours, one of my first acts, when it was clear my uncle wouldn’t be coming back there, was to remove six weapons from the house for safekeeping. These were all routine kinds of hunting weapons, granted, but weapons nonetheless. Attractive targets for thieves.

Nov. 2013, at the farm. Two other guns, “heritage” types, were elsewhere in the house. Later I found another gun in the metal shed, and a pistol as well. All now in safekeeping.

Best I can tell, just from the news, guns don’t even benefit those who own and use them for protection, whether “bad” or “good”. The one having the temporary advantage with the gun, isn’t at all advantaged in the longer term.
And then there’s the matter of race in this country of ours. That’s the larger message in Ferguson, just beginning to be discussed, again.
We are, every single one of us, captives of an ancient narrative about race in this country.
At this bucolic farm I’ll visit in a few hours, they once had a favorite horse, a black horse, “Nigger”. This was long before I was born. But long after I was born a favorite Christmas nut was “nigger toes”, brazil nuts.
There was no drama in the use of this term, nigger. But the greater message was the very fact that it was used at all.
And it isn’t about “them”, it’s about every single one of us.

Aunt Edith’s flower at the farm, August 10, 2014. Edith died February 12, 2014, some of her flowers live on.

#926 – Dick Bernard: The Sea Wing Disaster of July 13, 1890

August 18, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Family History, History, Minnesota, Nature /by dickbernard

For a number of months, occasional coffee-time conversation with friends David Thofern and Frederick Johnson usually got around to talk about progress on Mr. Johnson’s latest book, “The Sea Wing Disaster. Tragedy on Lake Pepin” (available through Goodhue County Historical Society here with event schedule about the book here). When the book came out, I bought a couple of copies (well worth the cost), and when I learned that the author would be talking about the volume at the Le Duc House in Hastings MN, I put it on the calendar, and last night my spouse and I went for a most fascinating hour presentation.
(click on photos to enlarge; to further enlarge poster beside Johnson, put cursor over the poster and click again.)

Frederick Johnson speaks on the Sea Wing disaster at Le Duc House, Hastings MN, Aug. 17, 2014

Frederick, David, myself, and others of we “regulars” are into bantering, about this and that, and this project was no different.
But the Sea Wing Disaster was no laughing matter. It happened July 13, 1890, in Lake Pepin, the shallow and large wide spot in the Mississippi River below Red Wing MN.
In the early evening of that day, the overloaded small steamer capsized in very strong winds, and 98 of the 215 passengers died. Most were from Red Wing.
It was and remains one of the largest domestic maritime disasters in U.S. History, and one of the very few in which weather was the major causative factor. (Many of the Sea Wing passengers were aboard a barge, lashed to the Sea Wing. All but one of the passengers on the barge survived. The Sea Wing, only 14′ wide and about 100 feet long, was overloaded and no match for the wind induced massive waves. The passengers had hardly a chance.)

The Sea Wing and Barge in tow before the catastrophe…

…and after. Photos courtesy of Goodhue Co. Hist. Soc.

In these days of AccuWeather and instantaneous forecasting it is perhaps hard to imagine being surprised by bad weather. People back then, and until very recently, relied on the usual visual signs of bad weather, and they knew what bad weather meant, in general. But this storm was different. Not long before the Sea Wing was struck down, a huge tornado from the same system had hit the Lake Gervais area just north of St. Paul. But this was 1890, and there was no easy way to spread the word about what was lurking not far away. The boat, the captain (who survived) and the passengers had hardly a chance.
Johnson first wrote about the Sea Wing in 1986. At the time he started planning to do an article, but there was so much material that he expanded his work into a book. Fast forward to 2014, and major additions provided by newly discovered material, including from the descendants of the casualties and survivors, gave rise to a much expanded new work. Indeed, even at the August 17 program, members of the audience showed photos of their ancestors who were with that boat the ill-fated day.
In this new edition, Mr. Johnson painstakingly researched both those who died and who survived. Judging from the audience on Sunday night, the new volume will bring forward still more new information retained in family collections for near 125 years.
Take in the presentation if you can (schedule above), and/or buy the book. It is a very interesting look at history.

#925 – Dick Bernard: Leaving Iowa

August 17, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Family History, Minnesota /by dickbernard

Michelle W., you’ve been promoting Woodbury Community Theatre for a long time, but we’ve yet to “darken the door”. Keep us on the list. Next time we’ll be there.
A week ago I stayed overnight with my sister and brother-in-law in Park Rapids MN. It was a last minute overnight, and they had plans to go to a play in tiny nearby Hubbard, and they scrambled to get one of the few remaining tickets for me.
What a night it was. The tiny Theater was packed; there were more people there, probably, than live in Hubbard. Word had gotten around, and a sold-out house was common.
Community Theater lives!
We saw the comedy “Leaving Iowa” (program here: Leaving Iowa001

Succinctly, “Leaving Iowa” is in essence about everybody-who-ever-was-in-a-family-who-took-a-car-on-“vacation”. In other words, most of us.
On the back leaf of the program (link above), the director describes one such trip of his own; at the end of this post, I describe one of mine. This is an invitation to remember your own experience(s).
The stereotypical Dad, the guy in charge (or so he thinks) died three years ago, his ashes unceremoniously perched on top of the fuse box in the basement. Most all of the play is in the car with the (really nicely) in-charge Mom; Dad; sis and brother, involved as any sister or brother who’s ever had to tolerate siblings in the confines of a car can relate. (For myself, it was seven of us, five kids, I the oldest, and I was in heaven when I finally got the Drivers License, and “controlled” the steering wheel. My siblings got rid of the pest, (me), of course; you know all the rest of variations of the story from your own memories of growing up, somewhere, and going as a family, some place.)
Part of the story involves the son taking Dad’s ashes to be distributed at some special place, and that is itself a hilarious though one-way conversation. Dad sits there quietly in his urn on the passenger side.
The story ends with son and Dad leaving Iowa for the final resting place at the geographic center of the United States, somewhere in Kansas. That, too, was one of Dad’s “democratically” decided destinations sometimes, and now his final.
The play was a little long, but the acting was delightful and if your town community theatre is looking for a really fun play with great audience appeal, this is one to check out.
(I just did a quick google search, and here are many links to check out, if you wish.)
And I promised my own story….
Back in August of 1978, I decided to take my son and my sisters foster-son Buck on a long trip from Minnesota as far south as Grand Canyon and back. The boys were 14, a good age for a trip like this. We traveled in my 1971 Chevy Van, our “motel” for the trip. We saw wonderful things, like driving to the top of Pike’s Peak; they learned to waterski on Lake Powell, and on and on. Like kids universally, they went where I did.
One memorable day we spent much time at Mesa Verde, CO, doing the tour, seeing the sights.
At night, we chose to stay in Cortez, Colorado, at a KOA. This one had a swimming pool, a heavenly development for the boys.
The next day was planned out. I thought that if we left somewhere about midnight, we could get to Grand Canyon in time to see the sunrise over the canyon.
I looked at the map, and it just happened that down the road about an hour or two was Four Corners, where Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico come together.
It was a not to be missed opportunity, and it would be the middle of the night when we passed it, so by the dictatorial powers vested in me, I cut back the swimming time for the boys, so that we could go see Four Corners.
They were not happy campers. But what choice did they have? None.
Off we went, me and two surly boys.
We got to Four Corners late on a hot afternoon and there it was, Four Corners, basically a brass plate in the godforsaken desert without so much as a souvenir stand or a place to buy some refreshments.
But we’d come there, and I insisted that the boys stand by the plaque so I could take the picture.
Somewhere in a box downstairs is that picture, a slide of two glowering kids obviously unhappy to be there. It’s a picture worth a thousand words, for sure!
We had lots of good memories from that trip, but this sour note is the one I choose to remember.
What do you remember?

#924 – Dick Bernard: A wedding: possibly catching a missing piece of history.

August 16, 2014/0 Comments/in Family History, North Dakota, Quietings /by dickbernard

Since 1980 I’ve become the family historian of both my mother’s and dad’s families. Once hooked, mysteries and secrets are much more interesting than the simple obvious facts.
So, in the history of Mom’s family, her older sister Lucina’s marriage is recorded, but no date. Lucina, always an elegant woman in my memory, never did get around to writing down what must have been abundant memories so, for instance, no wedding date is listed, though I always had heard it was 1939. She would have been 32 then. Their first child was born in 1941.
Lately I’ve been working with musty and dusty materials from the ancestral farm in North Dakota, and today I happened to look at an envelope of photo proofs sent Lucina’s husband Duane on August 11, 1939. Being proofs, the images are near invisible, but oh, what the story.
Here are three photos: one of the envelope and two of its six contents. Click to enlarge.

The wedding party, 1939

The kiss, 1939

The envelope which held the photo proofs.

The proofs, imperfect as they are, since they weren’t intended to last for 75 years, tell their own stories. The best man and maid of honor are faces unknown to me. The bride and groom were, to my knowledge, both teachers in the tiny school in Berlin ND. They likely married in the church almost adjacent to the school, St. John’s of Berlin, and doings afterwards were probably at the Busch farm home less than five miles away.
Pretty obviously, from the envelope, they were married in early August, 1939.
Weddings in those days were generally not high-priced doings. This wedding was during the Great Depression after all.
A few photos likely was about all the couple could afford.
My Mom and Dad – Mom was two years younger than her older sister Lucina – married in the same church two Augusts before Lucina and Duane. Theirs was the first wedding in Ferd and Rosa Busch’s constellation.
Very few photos exist to document their wedding. They were “poor as church mice” then. It was hard times on the prairie.
Till he died, Dad always wondered what happened to the “ricing” photo someone took after the ceremony. I’ve now gone through hundreds of photos from the farm, many from those days, and haven’t found such a picture. Maybe some day….
Lucina and Duane’s marriage lasted over 52 years. They had two children. Duane died first, in 1992, and Lucina lived four years beyond.
Mom and Dad’s marriage lasted 44 years, ended by Mom’s death in 1981. Dad lived to 1997. They had five children.
Time passes on, and what is left is memories, and if we’re lucky some visual representations of happy times past.

#923 – Dick Bernard: Policing. Alternative ways of keeping the peace.

August 15, 2014/0 Comments/in Community, Guns, Peace & Justice, Technology, War /by dickbernard

My too-frequent trips out to North Dakota, with a side trip last Thursday and Friday to Bemidji, yield numerous ideas for blog posts, all kept on a list of possibilities for sometime.
Today, the first post after my return, current events in Ferguson MO interfere.
One week ago at this space I wrote about the outpouring of emotion about a policeman killed while making a routine traffic stop in a neighboring community. You can read it here.
This week the news has been dominated by a deadly incident in St. Louis suburb Ferguson MO, where a policeman shot and killed an unarmed teenager. There have been other recent incidents involving excessive violence by police. A long and excellent summary is here.
In last weeks post, at the end, I included a May 27, 2014, proposal by my friend, Grace Kelly, about recognizing positive policing policies. It seems a good time to remind readers of that proposal, and invite you to read and share the proposal, and help towards positive results in your community.
Best I recall, Ms Kelly’s sensitivity to gross over-policing dates back to the Republican National Convention in St. Paul in early September, 2008, when the police appeared armed and very dangerous to quell protests. Who can forget the gunboats in the Mississippi River at St. Paul, supposedly there to protect against river assaults by protestors? This was a very bad time in our town.

This and following from Greg and Sue Skog, at time of Peace Island Event described below Sep 2008.

There was a single garish reminder of that time in the funeral procession of hundreds of police vehicles last week: One of those monster anti-something vehicles came up the street along with the normal police cars.
It did not fit.
It stood out. Very negatively.
Grace was a leader in the successful campaign to replace the then-Ramsey County Sheriff with a much more positive Sheriff, Matt Bostrom, in 2010. We see the difference every time there is an incident here. Tone is extremely important.
Like last weeks overwhelmingly positive tribute to police, this weeks overwhelmingly negative indictment of police overreach in Ferguson MO is a time to reflect, and Grace Kelly provides the opportunity to those who will look at her proposal. Please do.
Every single one of us can make a positive difference, where we live.
Comment
from Greg H, Aug 15:
A year ago or so I caught the testimony of a local police chief before a Congressional committee. In part, he chronicled the increase in fire power of the weapons issued to his patrol officers, in a small community.
The latest upgrade was to a weapon similar to that used in the Sandy Hook school shootings.
The police chief explained to the Congressional committee members that the reason for his community spending money to equip patrol officers with more lethal weapons was simply to prevent his officers from being out gunned by the bad people.
Just today we learned the suspect in the murder of the local police officer during a traffic stop had told a woman friend days earlier that he planned to kill a cop. He also told her he had been smoking meth for several days.
As to Ferguson, I prefer to wait for the facts of the confrontation between Mr. Brown and the officer before reaching any conclusions.

Early Sep 2008, Mississippi River, St Paul MN photo by Greg and Sue Skog

POSTSCRIPT:
Here are my memories, written September 8, 2008, in the aftermath of the heavily militarized security at the 2008 Republican National Convention in St. Paul MN. Personally, I walked in the major protest march (peacefully), but most of my time was in a major Peace Island Conference a group of us had organized which ran for the two days of the Convention, about three miles from the Republican Convention site. Our conference was so peaceful that even activist media didn’t cover us – the drama was down the street at the Xcel Center where the Republicans were meeting.
A GREAT END TO A LESS THAN STELLAR WEEK IN THE TWIN CITIES
This past Thursday, Sep 4, shortly after noon, I decided to deliver a large box of unused “Vote in Honor of a Veteran” buttons back to the Minnesota Secretary of State’s office, which is near the State Capitol Building (Watch for a future post on those buttons). When I arrived there, the youth protest gathering was commencing at the Capitol steps, and there were plenty of assorted kinds of police in evidence. But all was quiet.
I parked in front of the State Office Building, put on the warning flashers, got the large box out of the back seat, and began to walk up the front steps. A Minnesota State Trooper came out from behind a pillar, with his soft drink in hand, and I said I was going to the Secretary of State’s office. “Got a bomb in there?”, he said in an off-handed almost joking manner, and didn’t even venture a look inside the box (I guess I didn’t look like a terrorist), I went in, dropped off the box, and left. (Somebody could probably cite him for dereliction of duty, but for me he was the good face of the police this past week.) I decided not to stay for the demo, since I wanted to get over to the Peace Island Picnic, and legal places to park was an issue where I was, and it would have been a long walk to and from.
Driving my route to get to Harriet Island, I went down Chestnut Street, below the Xcel Center, and there were swarms of police preparing for the afternoon duty (today’s paper says there were apparently 3700 police in all, marshalled for the Republicans party in the twin cities – obscene overkill in my opinion.) Shepard Road was open, more police, and Jackson Street, and Kellogg to the Wabasha Bridge, and when I got to Harriet (now and forever more Peace) Island at 1 p.m. there was a great plenty of quality parking. There were few people in evidence, plenty of room to park, and a huge plenty of hotdogs, pork, cake, and on and on and on. It looked like it would be heaven for someone looking for a free meal (and it was). There was a box for contributions towards the event cost, and I hope they did well on collecting. (Coleen Rowley’s acknowledgements to all those who contributed their talent to Peace Island Picnic follow this text.)
Down on the river bank at Peace Island it was a chilly afternoon, overcast, breezy, maybe in the 60s. But it was about perfect for a gathering in many ways.
The Rowley’s were there, and, initially, perhaps 100 of us strolling around, and then the music gig began, first with Larry Long, no stranger to folks in these parts, joined by Pete Seeger’s grandson, Tao Rodriguez-Seeger, for a medley of songs beginning with Down by the Riverside, then This Land is Your Land, then Lonesome Valley, and on. The two musicians by themselves were phenomenal, the power for the speakers and instruments was solar (and stellar), and even in the overcast worked impeccably all afternoon.
The afternoon was off to a great start. In my initial planning for participation in the Picnic, I was going to stop by for awhile, go home, and come back later in the afternoon to help be part of the giant peace sign. But it was such a mellow place, this Peace Island, that I decided to stay the day.
I went back to the car to get my outdoor canvas chair, and settled in by the flagpole to the 9-11 victims, just to the musicians left, and with a clear view of the river. I was ready to settle in for one of the most relaxed afternoons I’ve ever had.
There could not have been a more peaceful place than Peace Island this day. The crowd grew, but slowly.
Tuesday’s Robot, a really good local group, followed Larry and Tao, and they were to be followed by a continuous succession of musicians all afternoon; there was some great jam session music going on as the afternoon progressed. I counted up to 15 musicians together at one point in the afternoon.
There were some bizarre twists, to be sure.
Patrolling the river just beyond the musicians was a gun boat – I kid you not – a Coast Guard vessel with mounted machine guns fore and aft. It appeared to be protecting the tour boat Johnathan Padelford as it carried passengers, probably delegates to the RNC, up and down the Mighty Mississippi. It was so bizarre as to be funny. (It’s in the slide show I previously sent.) I guess you never know what “tear-wrists” are going to be gunnin’ up or down the river to take out whomever…maybe that’s why George and Dick didn’t show in the twin cities.
At one early point, four SUVs ominously drove down a sidewalk in our area, all full of police, one with the back door open, as if they were preparing to raid our small assemblage, but they just slowly moved on.
To our west, a bunch of the police gathered, apparently for their souvenir photo, with, it seemed, the downtown St. Paul Skyline probably behind them. The gunboat arrived, apparently to be part of this photo op of “what I did on my vacation”.
Around 6 or so we all assembled into a giant peace sign. I’ve seen the photograph of all of us in this peace sign, and I’m sure that in a short time it will be published on Huffington Post or maybe even here on P&J. It was a very clear shot. I could even make out myself, on the back portion of the circle, a few folks to the right of the upright portion of the peace sign.
Together, Peace Island Conference and Peace Island Picnic turned out to be phenomenal and totally peaceful events. Together, they merited only the tiniest bit of news coverage – Peace Island Conference with 350 registrants none at all; Peace Island Picnic with about 1000 meriting only a few dismissive and inaccurate comments in the Pioneer Press On-line edition, bad enough so that a correction was apparently printed this morning in the print edition of the paper.
The message is “if it bleeds, it leads”. The anarchists, hated as they are by so-called ‘civil society’, were essential to the police state mentality that became St. Paul and Minneapolis this past week. Those anarchists should get thank you notes from the Republican Party, and the powers-that-be in our town. Without them, there wouldn’t have been any news. And while they’re writing thank you notes, maybe the likely abundant agents provacateurs should be on the thank you list as well. One of the persons on the march who was doing lots of photography, was quite certain she saw one person who had been egging on the Iraq Vets Against the War during the Labor Day protest march, breaking a window later in the downtown area – if so, he was probably arrested, and quietly released….
For us, the mantra for each of us has to become “I am the Media”. It is of absolutely no value to kvetch about what they aren’t doing. We have to become, as Gandhi said, ‘the change we wish to see in the world’. There is no alternative.
Let Peace Island become a continuing part of our conversation for sanity in our country and world.
From Coleen Rowley, Sep 6, 2008:
Wow!! Really good, Mr. Bernard! I’d like to forward the photos to my list too. I’m going to copy Mr. McGovern, Ann Wright, Tao, Larry Long, Sara Thomsen and Emma’s Revolution also as they figure in a few of your pictures.
If only there’d been a little more sunlight for the picnic. I think the cold weather was perhaps as much of a deterrent as the RNC bridge closings/traffic problems and the police intimidation.
With just a couple of “no-shows”, most of the info about musicians on our website turned out correct. Neither Clyde Bellecourt nor Dorene Gray made it for the opening water ceremony. And Mitch Walking Elk didn’t make it either. But I think everyone else listed did. The solar panel trailer was from Minnesota Renewables. David Boyce is the contact and as a power source, it worked absolutely great. The sound system was run by Doug Lohman of the Armadillo Sound Co. and it also got big compliments. (David Rovics had sung at the “March on the RNC” which didn’t have a good sound system and he said Doug’s was top notch. Doug used to do the sound for years at St. Joans.) The great grilled pork was made by Brian Huseby and his brother on their unbelievably large but portable grill. They grilled about 275 pounds of pork roast and 1200 hotdogs and almost all was eaten. (We did have a lot of buns left tho’.) We got free barbeque sauce from the Ken Davis company; donated French bread from New French Bakery; baked vegetarian beans at cost from Java Live in Faribault and also donated fruit from Co-op Warehouse and coffee from Equal Exchange.
We just had a great committee who did this all—not a lot of meetings—I think the grand total was only six—but we divvied up tasks well according to each person’s unique expertise.
Guess what? Tao already committed to coming back if, God forbid, St. Paul should ever host another RNC and we need to try and return to good neighborliness and sanity. Coleen R.

#922 – Dick Bernard: "Officer down", A Family and a Community Tribute

August 7, 2014/0 Comments/in Community /by dickbernard

UPDATE: Commentaries about Ferguson MO can be found here.

Where Officer Patrick was slain, on Dodd Road, at intersection with Smith Avenue in West St. Paul, MN. Scene as it appeared after the funeral August 6, 2014

Yesterday I participated in the Memorial for Scott Patrick, the policeman who was killed during a routine traffic stop on July 30. I was simply one of those who stood along the route of the procession from funeral to cemetery in Mendota Heights MN. I viewed the procession at Somerset Elementary School, where my daughter, Joni, new Principal there, was one of those who rang the school bell as the police cars, and then the family procession, moved past.
It was a very moving near four hours. Todays news will be full of accounts in the local papers. Simply enter in your internet search box, Scott Patrick Mendota Heights Policeman funeral August 6, 2014.
The killing of Officer Patrick by someone he’d pulled over at a routine traffic stop made absolutely no sense. The officer was a person who liked people. His “alleged” killer, who has admitted killing the officer, volunteered he “hates cops”.
The one post that I most noticed on the day that the officer was killed was this late afternoon July 30 Facebook post from my daughter, Joni, a school Principal in Officer Patrick’s town:
“Officer Patrick would often visit Friendly Hills Middle School when his shift was during school hours just to check in, say hello, and make sure all was well. I am proud to have had the opportunity to know and work with him. Although I don’t live in Mendota Heights, our lights will be on to honor Officer Patrick and all those who daily put their lives at risk to protect us all.”
It was clear, both from Joni’s note and the service that Officer Patrick was an ordinary guy, who was, like so many ordinary people, very extraordinary. Just someone who did his job.
I took a few photos between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m. while at Somerset Elementary School on the funeral cortege route. They follow, and after them, a short comment, and a proposal a friend sent me back in April, which seems now to be most appropriately presented.
The police cars I most noted? Park Rapids MN (where I’ll be, at my sisters, later today); Airport Police (where two of our family are Police); an Iowa State Patrol car (noting a long ago relative who was among the first 50 state highway patrolmen in Iowa, in the 1930s.) There were police from almost everywhere; from Chicago to Bismarck; and police from all conceivable sectors, including the police cadets from Hibbing MN. It was huge outpouring of support of the Law Enforcement family.
The photos (click to enlarge):

The bell tower of Somerset Elementary in Mendota Heights. The bell tolled for the entire hour that funeral procession vehicles passed by the school, including the estimated 4000 policemen and women honoring their fallen colleague.

A few of the 45 minute stream of police vehicles passing Somerset School.

I turned around to see the procession of police vehicles as they had just passed by.

The last vehicles in the funeral procession disappear, nearly two hours after the first car had passed by (1 p.m.)

Words aren’t adequate at such times as yesterday afternoon.
A young man, standing near by, audibly said “thank you” to the policeman passing by in their vehicles. He must have said those words, with feeling, hundreds of times.
Also near me, yesterday, was a nice but very serious young man, perhaps early 40s, who stayed the entire time and looked very serious and respectful. At one point we visited a little. Turned out that years ago a friend of his was the subject of the killers already vicious anger. What happened is irrelevant. “I suppose you’re against the death penalty”, he said.
“Not necessarily”, I noted, but I also noted that mistakes are made.
The killing of the officer was an act of impulsive anger. Is it an appropriate response to then try and kill the killer, however reprehensible he might be? I’d submit that there should be no easy answer to that question.
I could very well understand the young man’s anger, and I felt that the young man and I weren’t seriously at odds, nor even completely disagreeing. It was an important, brief, conversation, however, one of many we all should have.
COMMENTS:
Judy B, Aug. 7
Very nice post, Dick. I can’t remember a time when I was more touched by a news story. This one pierced my heart — perhaps because somehow you just knew he was a nice guy. Perhaps because he had two beautiful daughters who lost their dad. Perhaps because he had such a gracious wife. I wept every time I read a new story. This morning’s Strib, with its headline, “Calling Badge 2231..Officer Scott Patrick is out of service…” had me blubbering.
But I was also touched by the comment of my neighbor, a retired social worker, who said, “why didn’t someone help that man (the killer) long ago? Obviously, he fell through the cracks.” Not a very popular comment at this tender time, but an astute one.
Bob S, Aug 7
I read or heard something to the effect that in MN we only have 5 investigators working on 5000 cases of criminals who have vanished from the radar, that is not reporting to a probation officer or complying with the conditions of probation or parole, thus are in violation of the terms of freedom from jail, and who therefore would be considered wanted and often dangerous. The reason for this under-staffing has been budget cuts going back to Pawlenty. I notice Mayor Coleman in St. Paul is cutting back on all kinds of vital services, including public safety services (police-fire etc) and public works (pot holes). The mantra, cut taxes and government, is coming back to haunt us, and the right blames government.
David T., Aug 7:
read your blog piece on the killing of Officer Scott Patrick. Well done. I think the thing that brings out such an outpouring of grief and support any time one of these events happens is that we see the police as a kind of wall between the forces that would destroy the fabric of society and those who go about our lives dependent on that fabric remaining intact; the proverbial “Thin Blue Line,” if you will. A murder of a police officer feels so much more personal and existential than the myriad murders that are way-too common place.
It’s easy to understand the desire for revenge any time one of these horrific crimes occur. The death penalty certainly would be the ultimate act of revenge. Certainly there can be no other reason to impose it on the perpetrators of these acts. I doubt that the officer’s killer would have thought better of pulling the trigger had he been in a state that allows capital punishment. Maybe some of us would get a feeling of satisfaction in seeing the ultimate penalty imposed, but, in the end, I think there’s a larger price to pay when we empower the state, on our behalf, to have this power.

August 6, 2014 Dodd Road at Smith, Mendota Heights MN

Which leads, finally, to the proposal, made a couple of months ago, by a good friend, Grace Kelly, in St. Paul, a person who respects and likes police, but also recognizes that there are occasional individual and system problems.
I present her words exactly as she wrote them, as a draft, for thought and discussion by others in other contexts.
Grace Kelly, May 27, 2014
Here is the proposal that we discussed over the phone, in rough draft form. Since I tend to procrastinate, I am sending this out now. Please feel free to forward as you wish.
I believe that the standards of peace and nonviolence start with what happens in our own backyards. Peace cannot exist without justice. In our own community, we have had instances of an unarmed suspect of a non-violent crime being shot 5 times in the head and 2 times in the back by law endorsement officers. We also have officers who go unrecognized and unsupported when they risk their own lives to safely arrest people.
I would propose that there be four yearly grand awards, that are awarded after the previous year numbers are out, probably in June of following year.
1) 2014 Best Community Policing supporting Standards of Peace and Non-violence for a Force of 100 Sworn Officers or Higher
2) 2014 Most Improved Community Policing supporting Standards of Peace and Non-violence for a Force of 100 Sworn Officers or Higher
3) 2014 Best Community Policing supporting Standards of Peace and Non-violence for a Force of Less than 100 Sworn Officers
4) 2014 Most Improved Community Policing supporting Standards of Peace and Non-violence for a Force of Less than 100 Sworn Officers
I think this should be limited to just Minnesota because the research is difficult. Nominations could come from any peace activist or by self nomination of the particular police force. The police forces must be government paid. University or transit police could qualify.
In addition to the four grand awards, I would add a certificate level of recognition. For all nominated police forces, I think we should recognize three levels of achievement. No recognition is also an option.
Gold – Instances of some tough challenges with some outstanding achievement. Good overall performance.
Silver – Overall good performance. May have a few successes and a few challenges.
Bronze – A department marked by improvement although challenges may still exist.
No recognition – Even though there may be good noteworthy instances, the department has a culture as a whole that could be described as militaristic policing
In evaluating instances, what the department does to individuals after a good and bad instances has to be considered. A department that encourages retirement, assigns desk work, doles out censure and assigns parking patrol for bad instances is enforcing peace standards.
Standards for Community Policing
1) Respect for protest and all civil rights – Inspect instances where the police actively protected civil rights vs harassment for those who wish to speak out. An example of contrary evidence would be the Minneapolis police arresting Occupy protestors for stepping into the street. Other examples of contrary evidence are the numbers of obstructing justice and similar broad stroke charges. Are people allowed to video record police activities without harassment? Allowing observation and recording would be positive evidence.
2) Patrolling, investigation and prosecution across all economic and social divisions. Were rich people investigated? Does the arrest and conviction record reflect the social and economic diversity of the unit being served. If not, why not? Is just one type of crime persecuted? Are there areas of crime that are off limits?
3) Safe arrests and safe detainment. Community police specialize in arresting people safely without any injury. This even includes drug or mental conditions. Jails should keep people safe. People should be able to dress and eat within jails in a way that respects religious or ethical beliefs. For example, vegetarians should have meals without meat.
4) Community Involvement – Does the force actively reach out and engage with the community. How do everyday people feel about their force? Is there respect and courtesy? Is there fear? Do officers live and volunteer within the community? Are there force actions that go beyond the minimum? What kind of language and words are used in communications? Do officers reflect the diversity of the community?
5) Law Enforcement Effectiveness – How well does the department or office do its job? Peace cannot come without justice.
6) A Focus on Building Community not Just Increasing Prison Populations – Law Enforcement has a great opportunity to change direction of lives if diversion programs are used for first-time offenders or teenagers. Does the force use its ability to change lives for the better?
More background is in these articles: here and here.
Peace begins at home.
Grace Kelly nicknamed Kelly
651 246 6717

#921 – Dick Bernard: The Primary Election

August 5, 2014/0 Comments/in Politics /by dickbernard

One week from today, in Minnesota, is the 2014 Primary Election. There are important state races, not to mention local. You can learn all you need to know here; you can find out information about the specific ballot in your area here; you will be asked your zip code, and street name, and you can view a sample ballot.
All elections are important, this one no less so.
But this is a non-presidential year, and there is normally a lower voter turnout for the general election, and lower still for the primary.
This is true in all places (other states have their primaries at different times, and rules are also different.)
It is as if far too many of we Americans think that the only time we need for vote is for President; once we do that, it seems, we say to the President, “your problem” (or “your fault”). We wash our hands of responsibility for four more years.
We richly deserve what we get.
Political organizers know that the American voter in general is careless and sloppy and lazy, and this is an exploitable weakness. People who don’t know the issues or the candidates or don’t even bother to vote at all assure the worst outcome.
Here is an example of this dynamic:
In 2010 there was an off-year election in my town, as in all towns. I looked up the voter turnout in 2010 just for my community (which is affluent and well educated) and found that 30% – three of ten – of the registered voters did not even vote for a candidate for local legislator.
2010, of course, was the year of the Tea Party triumph most everywhere.
In 2012, again for my town, this time the district slightly reconfigured due to the redistricting required after every census, roughly 10% – one of ten – of the registered voters stayed home.
30% no-shows versus 10% no-shows makes an immense amount of difference, especially if one ‘side’ is energized, the other side not.
It is no accident, in my opinion, that this Congress, the 113th, is almost a shoo-in to be the least productive Congress in recorded history, and why it is, as a body, generally reviled by the citizenry generally. It was the 2010 landslide for the Tea Party that gave the power to set legislative district boundaries, sealing its advantage far beyond that one election.
Basically, we get exactly what we deserve in any election. This one in 2014 will be no different.
Show up and not only make an informed vote, but urge others that you know to act similarly.
It is the people who show up that matter.