#302 – Dick Bernard: Christmas Eve, a story of winter in rural Minnesota

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Yesterday, on my daily walk, I came across a guy who, I thought, was acting strangely.
He had a shovel, and was on the right side of the street, taking a clod of snow out of the abundant snowbank there. Then, oddly, he carried the clod across to the left side of the street, and returned to repeat the process.
Being curious, I asked “why?”
Quite matter-of-factly the young man said “I’m building a snow fort for my daughter”.
Oh….

Show Fort on a suburban street


Such it is at the season where we seem to have a great abundance of White Christmas – 6″ more by our house again this morning.
I just walked by the man’s house again, and there it was, a snow fort. As kids interest span goes, there probably was a flurry of activity at the fort yesterday; today it’s on to other things. But it was a nice piece of “Christmas”.
Maybe because it’s cold up here, and indoors is more a normal state of affairs this time of year, thoughts turn quite easily to reminiscing, especially as one moves on in years.
I could build on the snow fort story with my own recollections in long ago North Dakota; or I could reprint a Grandpa story sent to me by a friend, himself a Grandpa, with this years Christmas card.
Rather, I’d like to offer a more lengthy story, shared by a Minnesota French-Canadian in the winter of 1996, in a newsletter I was then editing called Chez Nous. The story link is Lowell Mercil – Winter 001 . Most recently I included it as part of a family history book I’ve written about my father’s family and their 400 year history in North America.
It’s about 7 pages, so take your time. But you’ll enjoy the trip back in time to, perhaps, the 1930s in northwestern Minnesota near Crookston and Gentilly.
All best wishes.

#295 – Hunkering down for a Blizzard!

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UPDATE 8:15 P.M. DECEMBER 11: Most likely we have over 20″ of snow at our home, thus far no wind. Didn’t leave the house all day. More snow than expected.
UPDATE II 8:10 A.M. DECEMBER 12: We can now classify the storm as a modern day catastrophe. Not only was the Vikings-Giants game postponed till Monday, but at least part of the Metrodome roof apparently has collapsed under the snow.
The storm lasted only 24 hours, and it didn’t even approach blizzard standards, at least where we live, but it was an unusual time for us.
At the end of yesterday’s post are some memories of past times storms.

Our grill in disguise, late afternoon December 11, 2010


There’s something energizing about a blizzard, even if you’re totally disabled and immobile (translated: not going out for coffee) as I am at this moment.
We’re in the fairly early stages of what they’re calling a blizzard – plenty of fluffy snow thus far, but relatively little wind. Once the wind comes along, those harmless little pieces of fluff will be even more disabling.
So there’s little to do but revel in the warmth of a home (we’re fortunate) and reminisce…about blizzards I have known.
Recently I completed a history of my French-Canadian roots, and a bit player in that history was Father Joseph Goiffon, called the “peg leg Priest”.

Fr. Goiffon lost his leg in a mis-adventure when caught in an All-Saints Day (Halloween) blizzard in 1860 near where the Park and Red Rivers come together in northeast North Dakota. Fr. Goiffon only lost his leg; his horse froze to death. His nephew, Duane Thein, edited a most interesting 91-page book, still in print, about the near-tragedy in 2005 (see cover, above). Father Goiffon lived on to re-tell the story many times. He died in 1910.
I survived, somewhat more comfortably than Fr. Goiffon, the Halloween blizzard of 1991. I was living in Hibbing MN at the time, and it was said we got over 30 inches of snow which, after the wind, became the hard-pack flakes famous for igloos and fun for kids to build snow caves and forts.
For adults, such blizzards are usually the pits, even if in comfort (last night in a grocery store line I was chatting with the guy behind me who said the liquor store line had been even longer….) Yah, I’ll hear the high-pitched whine of the snowmobiles shortly, but mostly we’re house-bound.
In Hibbing, we were immobile for what I remember to be several days. There was nowhere to go, and no way to get there. Immobility for we in the mobile generation is difficult.

After the Halloween blizzard in Hibbing MN 1991


Growing up in North Dakota, I became accustomed to blizzards – two or three of them a winter, it seems.
Unlike today’s blizzard, which was pretty accurately forecast, in those days in the 1940s and on, wise sages had to read the skies and we had to act prudently to avoid being caught in a killer out in the country. You knew those mean storms were out there, but you didn’t know exactly when they’d hit or how bad they’d be.
But if you were indoors and had enough food and fuel, you were okay.
Afterwards, you could walk on the rock hard snow banks, and the kids would work harder than they’d ever work doing chores, digging snow caves and building snow forts and doing all the things kids can do when presented with a new opportunity.
I think of the Elgin ND Blizzard of February, 1965 – a bad one. But it is just another example. They happened every year.
I write in the early stages of this one, so I can’t project what it will be like a few hours from now.
It appears to be of relatively short duration, but if it gets windy, watch out.
So far, nobody’s out for fun. Those who are out are busy.
Today we’ll put up the Christmas tree….

Christmas Tree 7 p.m. December 11, 2010, first view


Happy Holidays.
UPDATE: Some responses to the above post:

From Mel Berning, Eureka CA, who recalls a storm he lived through in rural Berlin, North Dakota, right after WWII.
“There were lots of memorable blizzards in N. Dak. but only one remains in my
mind. Dad and Mom came to the Dakotas in 1906 and i remember dad telling about
blizzards so severe you couldn’t see anything but dark lightness in the height of
the storm even during the daylight hours. As a wise kid I discounted these wild
stories as a flight of fancy until one day in deep winter I experienced just
that.
My brother Gus and I decided to get the chores over quickly and do them at 4:30
in the afternoon. It was in the winter of [19]46?? and Gus was home from the
service at the time and staying on the farm with us. To get on with it we went
into the summer porch and lit our kerosene lantern in preparation for the trip
to the barn, a distance of about100 feet. We stepped out of the porch door and
the wind blew the lantern out, I turned to my older brother and hollered lets
hold hands till we get to the barn, surprisingly he gladly complied and we
stumbled blindly on through the howling snow hand in hand. Fortunately I had been
to the barn so often that we collided with the side of the barn and felt our way
around to the door. I kept hoping one of us had matches to relight the lantern
because it was dark as ink. We slid open the barn door, stepped inside, and lo
the lantern was still lit. neither of us could see it in the blinding snow and
it surely was a relief to have light.
Another winter story if you would, We had a 2 week snow with constant blizzard
conditions. As can be expected, dad was out of tobacco and we were running low
on groceries when the storm suddenly stopped and a Chinook [wind] came up from the
south. The temperature rapidly climbed to 50+ and my neighbor and I started to
plow our way to the store in Berlin [about five miles away]. By 3:00 o’clock we were able to reach the
plowed highway and returned home. We both picked up our grocery list and headed
back to Berlin to buy the family groceries. After doing the shopping we decided
to go to the Oasis, the pool hall, have a beer and shoot a game of pool, We
barely got to break the racked balls when some one came in and said it was
snowing out side. We hung up our cues and headed for home. The blizzard was
back and the temperature was dropping rapidly, we got to with in 2-1/2 miles of
home when we hit a new drift on the road and it was home from there on foot.
When I got home dad and mom were very relieved and by that time the thermometer
was on the minus side of 10 below. Several people and some stock died in Dakota
that night.
From Myron DeMers, Fargo ND, who grew up in rural Grafton, ND:
When you mention blizzards and I see so many people outside using snow blowers right now in Fargo, I remembered asking dad years ago if they did a lot of shoveling “in the old days”. His answer surprised me. He said “yes and no” because with all the farmyard traffic, horses, sleighs etc the snow would pack down and most of the winter was spent riding on top of the snow rather then shoveling it. He said the only problem was Spring when it became a muddy mess but by then you were so happy to see Spring, the mud was “clean mud”. Merry Christmas, Myron
From Ellen Brehmer, Grand Forks ND, who grew up in rural Langdon, ND
I hear your supposed to get ‘a bit’ of snow & wind. We are breathing a great sigh of relief because this one will miss us. We’re just sinking into the depths of 20 to 30 below, and that’s not wind chill. We do have the wind so I’m sure the old snow will drift some. It’s always fortunate to be home when the storms hit.
One winter possibly late ’50’s we had to walk a mile across the field in the evening because the car got completely stuck and flooded trying to break through a snow drift on Schnieder’s corner. That’s 1 1/2 miles from home. We walked over the hard pack at an angle so it was probably only a mile – I’m here to tell you that my thighs were very very cold. I’m pretty sure that it was [siblings] Pat, Jerry, Marilyn and myself who walked behind Dad. We had been to some church thing or something. Nothing else got that cold, we all had scarves and mittens and boots, plus we were moving – the front thighs took the beating. So guess what gets cold first for me when I’m shoveling, yup the thighs.
From Mary Busch, Minneapolis, who grew up in ND and northern MN:
Your dad loaned my parents the car to drive to the Carrington Hospital [14 miles away] where I was born during a bad snow storm. (being a geographer-could we find info about that storm?) Late in her life mom revealed I was nearly born in the car. I always wondered about the very flat section of my head—-…
Growing up in Rugby North Dakota, we walked everywhere.
I valued my turquoise fluffy wool coat purchased in Herbergers in Grand Forks ND. The Little Flower School costume was skirts with white cotton socks with metal clasps tied to elastic garters holding them up… rubber boots over shoes and maybe pants… I remember the metal clasps near your skin burning and leaving red marks on cold days. It was a six block walk.
I craved excitement and would walk to the high school to watch Basketball games- Paul Prestis [Presthus?] became a star….It was so cold and about a mile there.
My parents STORED meat in a locked wooden box by the back door….a homemade freezer.
My dad had a complicated ritual involving army blankets to start the Plymouth in cold weather…We often visited relatives for vacations.
A geologist guest in the 1990s was raised in Siberia and commented that Rugby was exactly like Siberia in climate and geology so we had shared similar childhoods.
My dad would take us out ice fishing in very cold weather. We walked back into northern MN lakes, built a fire and drilled our holes. I kept my Rolliflex camera under my jacket so it did not freeze. I often brought guests home to Babbitt and recall an amazed despairing New York City gal, when I explained and demonstrated the toilet opportunities in subzero wilderness.

#274 – Dick Bernard: The State of the States, and the People Who Live in Them.

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Yesterday’s New York Times headline hit me when it showed up on my computer screen “Now in Power, G.O.P. vows cuts in State Budgets“.
Who can do anything but love trimming the fat of bloated, hated, “Government”?
It will be an interesting process as a new Minnesota G.O.P. majority in both House and Senate take meat axes to to try to eliminate a huge deficit created by assorted budget tricks the last several years of stalemate between the Democratic majority in House and Senate and G.O.P. Governor Tim Pawlenty. (Minnesota State Law requires balanced budgets, so to get around this little technicality, bookkeeping strategies, like ‘borrowing’ money from school aid to local school districts, were used in the brutal sausage making of legislating in a “veto” environment. Now, just in time for Christmas 2010, the bill comes due. Probably there will be a Democrat Governor in 2011, though when remains a question, as there will probably be a recount and a promised aggressive defense by the challenger G.O.P. The current Governor, G.O.P. and contender for Republican Presidential nomination in 2012, may well occupy the office well into the New Year, the new term.)
“Trimming fat” is an abstract thing, if one chooses not to notice the personal dimensions.
I have a personal example.
In the family constellation of my wife and I are eleven adults. The youngest is Down Syndrome, age 35, and thus not part of the work force. The other ten (including one former daughter-in-law) are all employable at the present time, and all working. So, technically, in our family there is full employment, and no unemployment.
One of the ten was laid off from a corporate job nine months ago, and went on unemployment.
He was only unemployed for a couple of months when he was offered a full-time State job for a maximum duration of a year. It paid far less than his former position, but it was a job and it had benefits, so he took the position.
What he does all day, every day, is receive and process phone calls from fellow Minnesotans who are unemployed. It is his job to redirect them to the appropriate agencies within the State of Minnesota system. The work is not fun. Neither is it in the specific trade he trained for.
Because the State job doesn’t provide adequate income, he works a part-time job, several nights a week.
Because he works during the day, he cannot do the requisite networking to find jobs in his area of expertise, and his expertise is rapidly going stale.
At the end of the twelve months, perhaps sooner if the meat ax reaches him, he will be unemployed again, struggling to find something, anything to survive.
Historically, getting a state job has been an entree into other State jobs. But that is a very unlikely scenario for this family member in this slash and burn time in our history.
There is an 11-year old boy in this scenario. Mom and Dad are divorced. Grandma does a great deal of heavy-lifting.
Oh, how easy to trim the fat of bloated government.
Oh, how easy….

#263 – Dick Bernard: President Obama comes to the Twin Cities

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NOTE: The video of the entire speech by President Obama in Minneapolis on October 23 is accessible at the end of this post.

Sometimes I hear talk of Democrats and Republicans being the same: “they’re both alike“; “they’re all liars”; “Democrats are only the lesser of two evils“. This kind of rhetoric comes from both left and right. It is an excuse to vote Republican, or to not vote at all.
I beg to differ. There is a big difference, crucial at this time in our history.
In my life I’ve had a few ‘close calls’ with sitting Presidents of the United States.
The first was about 1953 when we saw President Eisenhower in a motorcade in Minot ND. We lived in an area town, I was 13 or 14, and he made a big impression. He was in an open convertible, personable and waving. He was likely there to inspect the site then being considered for the major Minot Air Force Base.
In the summer of 1975, I was within arms length of President Gerald Ford when he visited Bloomington MN. My kids, a couple of neighbors and I were on the other side of a rope line, which was all that separated the President from the onlookers. He was very engaging. The Secret Service was nervous.
In January, 1980, I was at a meeting in the Cabinet Room of the Carter White House. The President wasn’t in, but it was a heady experience nonetheless.
I’ve had other close brushes: Jimmy Carter’s Plains GA in 1977; the Eisenhower library in KS; a couple of tours of Harry and Bess Truman’s home in Independence MO, and the Truman Library; the Bill Clinton Library in Little Rock; Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson’s home in Texas…plus the house where LBJ grew up; Abe Lincolns home, tomb and environment in IL several times and his KY birthplace; George and Laura Bush’s Crawford TX. Perhaps I’m missing one or two….
June 20, 2003, I traveled out to suburban Minneapolis to perhaps catch a glimpse of President George W. Bush as he came to a meeting at a small manufacturing facility. The meeting was so closed, and Bush was so elusive, that even his supporters who wanted to at least see the limo didn’t know he had arrived and gone in a back way…and they were irritated, to put it mildly. The only way any of us knew GWB was inside was when a cheer came through the walls of the building he was in. To get into a Bush event, you needed to be vetted and ticketed: it was invitation only. The common scrum? Forget it, even if you were a loyal Republican.
Then came Saturday, October 23, 2010. President Barack Obama came to town to stump for Minnesota Democratic Party candidates (DFL), especially for gubernatorial candidate Mark Dayton. What a day. (Some photos at the end of this post.) No ticketing. Come as you are, first come, first admitted.
I don’t know how large the crowd was Saturday, but it certainly filled the University of Minnesota fieldhouse (capacity 7000) to the brim, and apparently there was closed circuit television outside for those who could not get in. It was a responsive, yet very polite group. It appeared that at least a majority were students, perhaps a large majority. And they were enthusiastic. There was no comparison with the 2003 Bush event.
In these still-charged days of paranoia around ‘terrorists’, going to yesterday’s gathering was a breath of fresh air. Security was crisp and quick but non-intrusive: clear rules, but a welcoming place. This I also experienced a while back at another event featuring Vice-President Joe Biden.
Having a Press Pass gave me an excellent vantage point, and much more freedom of movement than those who patiently stood in line for at least a couple of hours to get inside the Fieldhouse.
President Obama made his entrance, and his exit, in close proximity to, and engaged with the people in the hall. His stump speech, even with the terrible acoustics of the Fieldhouse, was powerful, and elicited a very loud and positive response. (Originally the event had been planned for outdoors, but they weren’t sure of the weather and moved inside.)
A few protestors were outside, but no heckling indoors. A couple of people fainted…those were the only tense moments.
An appearance by the President of the United States does not decide an election, but one gets an impression of leadership and without a doubt the assembled group left highly energized and ready to work.

Part of the long line on the Northrop Mall waiting for the doors to open.


A view of the crowd, President Obama at right.


The President speaking to the crowd


There might be some pessimism in some quarters, and some glee in others, that Obama and the Democrats have lost their competitive edge – that they’re just “Republican lite”.
That certainly wasn’t in evidence at the University of Minnesota Saturday.
As for the Republicans vs Democrats: the Democrats are working very hard and in a positive direction; there are two Republican parties currently at war with each other, and the one currently in control is one which inspires much more fear than it does confidence. Today’s Republican Party is not the party of Dwight Eisenhower.
Related, here.
Video of President Obama’s remarks in Minneapolis here.

#258 – Dick Bernard: Planting Poles of Peace

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Today was another stunningly beautiful Minnesota Fall day, a perfect day for – as the invitation stated – “a peace pole planting & dedication ceremony” at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Sunfish Lake MN. I took the drive over to the picturesque church. It is a place I have passed by often, but until today never actually entered.
There are hundreds of thousands of peace poles around the world in almost any kind of location. As the St. Anne’s program stated, “In planting peace poles, we are linking with people all over the world who have planted Peace Poles in the same spirit of peace.”
I gathered that the peace pole project at St. Anne’s was a creation of the youth of the Parish who did the fundraising for the project. Rather than a single pole, the decision was made to plant three poles in a specially constructed Peace Garden near the Church. The project took one and one-half years to complete, but in the end the children had raised more than enough money for the poles which speak “…”May Peace Prevail on Earth” in Arabic, Chinese, English, Greek, Hebrew, Hmong, Maya, Ojibwe, Paw Prints, Somali, Spanish and Swahili.” (Among the onlookers was a gentle dog, for whom the Paw Prints fit!)

The Peace Poles prior to planting.


I have been to numerous dedications of Peace Poles, Peace Sites and the like, and they share commonalities, though they are planned individually, often over an extended period. Each are unique and inspiring.
At St. Anne’s, the opening prayer was as follows:
“We gather here today as diverse expressions
of one loving mystery –
To celebrate,
to sing,
to accept differences,
to promote justice and peace.
To recreate the human community.
We gather to plant these peace poles as a sign of
our commitment to nurture and encourage the seeds of
peace already planted in our community and in the world.
As we plant these poles, we commit to:
seeking peace within ourselves and others,
promoting understanding,
celebrating diversity,
caring for our planet,
reaching out in service,
working for justice,
and creating, in this place,
a sanctuary where all are embraced.
We are called to peace.
Peace within and peace without
Peace before and peace behind
Peace on right and peace on left.
We are called to peace.
Peace with brother and with sister
Peace with neighbor and with stranger
Peace with friend and with foe.
We are called to peace.
Peace in work and in play
Peace in thought and deed
Peace in world and in action
We are called to peace.”
The gentle ritual continued with a Song of Peace, readings from different traditions about peace, and thence the planting of the three poles with members of the group, young and old, contributing earth to the holes in which the poles were planted.

Planting the Peace Poles at St. Anne's


There are many perfect ways to do Peace Poles and Peace Sites. St. Anne’s was one of those perfect ways.
More information and ideas about Peace Sites and Peace Poles and other Peace programs are accessible at the website of World Citizen.
“Let There Be Peace On Earth” (one of today’s songs.)

#257 – Dick Bernard: Voting

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This letter of mine appeared in the October 13, 2010, issue of the Woodbury Bulletin, our local newspaper. Our suburb of about 60,000 population would be considered as prosperous, with a great number of school age children and a correspondingly great number of younger parents who have very good jobs and live in nice houses.
“A year ago – November 3, 2009 – I voted in the [local school district] ISD #833 School Board election. I always vote, and I was aware, this time, that the polling place was like a mausoleum on a slow day: empty and quiet.
There were ten candidates for four open seats on the South Washington County #833 School Board last year.
When the votes were tallied, the numbers revealed that only 6% – one of every 16 – eligible voters had even bothered to go to the polls. The candidate receiving the greatest number of votes polled 3% of those same eligible voters. That person sits in office today because one of every 33 local citizens took the time to vote.
The turnout was a disgrace.
The election was, in my view, an abominable development, a black mark on this affluent community of ours with a very large (in relative terms) percentage of school age children. If we don’t care who represents our kids interests, what do we care about?
(My bet is that virtually no one in this town could name, without going to the school district web site, the person I identify above. This is no reflection on the individual, it is a reflection on we citizens.)
Everyone of course can have their own excuse for not voting last year, or ever. There are always excuses.
There are also good reasons: like an emergency hospitalization on the day of the election, or such; but mostly we’re talking about excuses.
And when one adds in those who vote with absolutely no knowledge of who they are voting for, we are looking at a democracy that is not well.
In a very short while we again go to the polls.
It is expected that far fewer will vote in 2010 than voted in 2008, though the stakes for all of us in the upcoming election are very high.
The marquee races (Governor, Congress, our State legislators and the like) get almost all of the attention, but they are not the only races:
This year we Woodbury voters are being asked to select one Judge from among 24 candidates in the 10th Judicial District.
Sixteen citizens have filed for two Woodbury Council positions; and there are six candidates for Mayor of our community.
These are much more than first or last names on lawn signs.
This message is a plea to citizens to not only vote, but to vote well-informed – to actually know something about the person for whom you are filling in the blank on the ballot Nov 2.
We have the right to vote in this country; we have the responsibility to vote well informed.”

#254 – Dick Bernard: A DVD Drama at the Basilica of St. Mary

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Last Sunday on the way into Minneapolis’ Basilica of St. Mary for Mass I stopped by a small group of people collecting a DVD Archbishop Marriage001 earlier sent to all Archdiocese Catholics. The DVD lobbies against the supposed threat of Gay Marriage, and promotes a Minnesota Constitutional amendment mandating that marriage be restricted to one man and one woman*.
I dropped off my DVD and asked Lucinda Naylor, who ordinarily sits near us in the Basilica, if I could take her picture (below).

Lucinda Naylor, at right, October 2, 1010, Basilica of St. Mary, Minneapolis


Lucinda had unintentionally become famous a few days earlier when she had written a Facebook entry about the DVD. The entry came to the attention of her employer, the Basilica of St. Mary. There was a meeting between the Pastor and Lucinda, and the result was her suspension from her part-time job as artist for the Basilica. Her liturgical art work for years has been a staple part of the Mass booklets distributed each Sunday by ushers like myself. The DVD issue, I am convinced, was not created by either the Pastor or Lucinda. It was dropped on both of them from outside.
The suspended employee, Lucinda, established a website which gives people an opportunity to recycle the DVDs into a sculpture she plans to make. The collection of the DVDs began Sunday, October 2. Similar collections took place at other churches.
At this writing, the drama continues. I have a great deal of respect and admiration for Lucinda; and for the Pastor as well. I know both people. She acted courageously on her convictions; the Pastor, whether he can admit it or not, was without doubt caught between “the proverbial rock and a hard place”. Basilica is not ‘his’ Church, after all: it is, like all Catholic Churches, real estate of the Archdiocese, and the Archbishop is the Pastor’s boss.
After depositing my DVD in the curbside box, I went inside for 9:30 Mass. More on that in a moment.
The next day, Monday, a very large photo, taken from the identical vantage point and essentially identical to mine, appeared on page A11 of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. The headline said “Taking a Stand Against the Church“, and showed Lucinda Naylor waving on Twin Cities Marathon Runners as they passed by the Church. The accompanying text included the phrase: “A spokesman for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis called [her action] a publicity stunt.”
Sunday morning, inside Basilica, the Mass booklet said that the presider at all of the six weekend Masses would be Pastor John Bauer. This is highly unusual. Normally there are two or three presiders.
I am sure the vast majority of us in Basilica on Sunday were waiting to see what the Pastors Homily would be. There was little doubt about the topic; the only unknown was exactly what he’d say.
Basilica is a welcoming and diverse place, and Fr. Bauer made specific reference to the greeting at every Mass: “Whatever brings you here and wherever you are at on your faith journey, you are welcome here.” It is a theme that the Basilica lives. It fits my Parish.
The rest of his brief message spoke gently to the issue that had Lucinda out on the sidewalk: “Parishes are much like families“, he said, alluding again to something he’s said before: that in his own family, members tend to cancel each other out in Presidential elections. He pulled a quotation from, he recalled, James Joyce: “The word ‘Catholic’ means ‘here comes everybody’ “. And then he quoted from an e-mail someone had sent him during the tense few days preceding this Mass: “I stay [in the Church] because I want the Church to be the Church I want the Church to be.”
Finished, Fr. Bauer received warm applause (unusual in our setting, regardless of the preacher or message). I was among those who applauded.
But that applause doesn’t mean this issue is over; by no means.
As I was drove home I thought in particular about Fr. Bauer’s “family” analogy.
In this case, there is a huge difference: the Archbishop, with the help of what had to be a huge anonymous donation, sent out hundreds of thousands of these DVDs which spoke from Power to Peasant, as it were.
Lucinda is one of those Peasants; I another.
The Archbishop didn’t ask our opinion. He didn’t care. His wealthy financial benefactor hid in the shadows of anonymity. So be it.
For some reason I thought about action organizing in such a case of power versus powerless and I thought back to a favorite book from childhood, Gulliver’s Travels. Gulliver, as most will remember, traveled to a place called Lilliput, which was inhabited by ant-size humans who were no match in any way for the gigantic normal sized human, Gulliver.
At least, the Lilliputians were no match for him on his terms.
But one night Gulliver fell into a sound sleep, and the next day when he woke up, he was tied to the ground, and couldn’t move.
The Lilliputians had put Power in its place.
“Publicity stunt” indeed.
Go, Lilliput!
Postnote: a YouTube link from a friend, a Dad, whose son is Gay.
*The Archbishops DVD can also be found on YouTube.
Watch this space in coming days for a commentary on a Marriage in Quebec in 1730.

#251 – Dick Bernard: Campaigning.

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Yesterday our local candidate for state legislature was door-knocking in our neighborhood – at least I know she was, since there was a flier with a handwritten personal note from her in our door.
Campaigning for office is brutal work, not for the faint of heart, and I sometimes wonder what would happen if all of those who collectively run for all offices would just say, in unison, ‘forget about it, life’s too short, I’m outa here”. Then we might come to some appreciation of the largely thankless labor our representatives provide, regardless of party, regardless of position, regardless of level.
Our representative is running for a third term. Best as I’ve been able to see, she’s run as a centrist – a survival skill in her district – and she’s ably represented the interests of her district and the state of Minnesota, her state.
“Her district”, in Minnesota, means basically about 40,000 people in part of one suburban city. Conservatively, this is 10-15,000 households, minimum. Trying to balance the interests of just her constituents is one thing; trying to represent her constituents while at the same time entering into endless negotiations with colleagues and assorted interests at the state level is something else again. There is an endless barrage of competing priorities, and at the end there is a record, gleefully dissected by an opponents apparatus who, these days, is not constrained by that quaint concept, honesty. (And who, further, is not constrained by a record – the opponent has never run for office before, to my knowledge.)
So…about the time our candidate was knocking on our door, our mailman was delivering a piece of what I would call “hit lit” from the opposition. It was, of course, attractive, with lots of flying feathers, saying that the opponents had “ruffled feathers” over our Representatives reckless spending which was, they cutely said, “for the birds”.
One enterprising friend did the research on this claim. She found that the expenditure referred to was from a fund established by Minnesota voters 18 YEARS before our Representative was in office, and furthermore, it was fully funded by lottery ticket sales and mandated for the specific use to which it was put. In other words, our candidate had nothing to do with either the fund or the expenditure.
Another mailing from the same source “complained about an alleged expenditure from the Nongame Wildlife Management Account which…is totally funded by those who check the box on their personal or corporate tax returns saying they wish to donate $1 or more to the fund, plus by private donations.” (quote from my friends letter to the editor, likely to appear in the local paper next week.)
The damage, of course, is done. More people will at least glance at the fliers in the mailbox, than will read the letter to the editor. Allegations will trump facts…with some voters.
So, our legislator walks on, neighborhood to neighborhood, doing her best to knock on every door, while trying to keep some semblance of personal life together – dealing with her mother’s recent death and other things. One cannot be a real person and run for office, either. That’s why so few are up to the task.
In the warfare that is politics, there is no time for letting down, of taking things for granted.
We’ll do what we can to help our candidate, and candidates, as will many others.
But we all need to pitch in.

#250 – Dick Bernard: a troubling sign among Signs

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Certain at this time of year in Minnesota is change in the appearance of nature. Leaves change colors and ultimately drop off; Fall flowers erupt in all their glory, including some absolutely brilliant wildflowers on my daily walk.
Every other year, Fall brings with it a new and odd biennial ‘foliage’. Locals call them campaign signs, and they erupt along the area roads. In recent days I have begun to look at them with increasing interest, largely because of a new species I have observed for the first time.
Lawn signs for political candidates are essential, even though they do not inform. Note a lawn sign driving along a road (where most of them are found) and normally it will emphasize only a single word, either the candidates first or last name. The hope is that some befuddled voter will see the name and remember “Scotty” (or whomever) when they enter the booth on November 2, and vote for him because they saw his name on a sign. Certainly, the sign has no other purpose than name recognition. One would hope that we don’t elect our local candidates based primarily on what their name is….
But this week I saw a new sign, one which I haven’t seen before, along the streets I traverse each day.

Lawn sign Woodbury MN September 29, 2010


I noticed two things about that sign: the candidate is running for Judge, and he is proudly advertising his endorsement by a political party.
Rarely on lawn signs do I see any reference to political party, particularly for local office.
In this instance, the candidate is one of 24 candidates for a single judgeship in Minnesota’s 10th Judicial District. I am not sure what caused this tsunami of candidates in this district, but the fact of the matter is that each of us who vote on November 2 will have to select one of these 24, either somewhat informed or at random, or not cast a vote at all. This particular candidate seems to be looking to get a leg up on his competitors by getting a partisan endorsement, and that concerns me, especially in an election for a Judge. The opposing party is in a quandary: it must similarly engage.
Questions abound on an endorsement of this sort. The endorsing party is, first of all, currently a party of fragments, from fanciers of Tea to moderates and even progressive in attitude. When the label is placed on the lawn sign, which party members actually did the endorsing? It makes a big difference. But all we know is the name on the sign.
What risk am I to take if I happen to be of some other party, and end up in a contest before this particular person, if he is finally elected Judge in November? He has telegraphed his bias. There is no law that says Judges cannot be partisan; but they should not be seated at the bench in, say, Red or Blue robes. Achieving justice in our system is hard enough to have to deal with an avowedly partisan judge, who likely sought the endorsement he now proudly advertises, and implicitly is beholden to.
In a race with as many candidates as there are in this one, odds are that this guy will be wearing Judge’s robes come January.
This is not an outcome even the endorsing party should welcome.
The judiciary should not be an arm of one party or another. It should do what it is supposed to do: interpret the law.
This sign is one of many that certain groups are attempting to undercut and subvert the neutrality of the legal Bench.
This is not good news for our democracy.

#242 – Dick Bernard: A School for the Feeble-Minded

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When I was growing up in the 1940s and 50s, we would occasionally go to visit my Dad’s parents in Grafton ND.
While there, one of the certain trips was to the city park, Leistikow Park, on the bank of the Park River. It was an awesome place in the eyes of small town kids in the big city of Grafton (which probably was well on the short-side of 5,000 residents in those years).
Approaching the park we always passed what we knew as the State School for the Feeble Minded. There was one particularly large building that I remember, and on summer days the lawn was crowded with people we knew were very different from ourselves. Even in those years, when there was at least the beginnings of recognition of special needs, the perception was that these people were more-or-less warehoused, much as they would have been in an insane asylum. The financial resources and the political will were not yet there to help these persons who were very different from we supposedly normal folk.
We looked at those people behind the fence much like someone would look at animals in a zoo.

Undated photo of the main building at Grafton


By the 1950s enlightenment was beginning in states across the nation. Apparently, even though I remember the school only as the School for the Feeble Minded, its name had been changed even before I was born to the less descriptive “Grafton State School”.
By bits and pieces, everywhere, came new programs and attention and funding for “MAXIMIZING human potential for greater SELF-SUFFICIENCY*”
I’ve come to know about the importance and richness of the special needs community in the years since my youngest child was born Down Syndrome in November, 1975.
Heather is nearing 35 this year, and is a phenomenal human being.
This week I drew the pleasant duty of picking Heather up at her daytime work facility, Proact*, in Eagan MN. (It is Proact’s operating philosophy which I quote above.)
Off hours she lives in a pleasant suburban home with a couple of other special needs adults.
I’ve written before about her active engagement in after hours athletic activities most recently last month.
Last night, Heather watched the Vikings and the Saints at her sister’s home. She’s an avid sports fan.
It is easy to take for granted the safety-net we have constructed in this country for those less capable of competing on their own. It is easy to say they’re a waste of precious resources.
In a bygone day my Heather could have been one of those behind the walls of that School for the Feeble Minded. I sometimes wonder how it would have been had she been child, and I parent, 100 years ago. What forces would have worked on me, then.
Those were not the good old days.
And as for going back…when I picked up Heather yesterday, one of her workmates gave her a hug as she was leaving. Then this friend, named Mary, reached out her hand and said to me, “hi, I’m Mary”.
Can’t get any better than that.

Dick and Heather as photographed by the Smooch Project www.thesmoochproject.com