From Story Worth 12/30/2017

    Lisa asks Did I ever get in trouble in School?

     Did I get in trouble at school? Not until 4th grade, unless you count the time shortly after I began school that I decided I didn’t like school and walked home. Lloyd Hope, my classmate in grades 1-12 likes to tell of a time he was sleeping over at my house. We had to stay after school. When my dad noticed we were home late he said “You boys were late tonight.” I said “we had to stay after school for something we didn’t do” “O” he said “what was that?” I said “we had to stay after for not doing our arithmetic.” Dad laughed. I have no memory of this and have only Lloyd’s word that it is true.

    “Ever” should be “always” as in I was always in trouble...nothing very serious just persistently annoying to my teachers. One of my elementary teachers made the mistake of getting in a power struggle with me about doing math problems. She made me stay after to do them, which I still didn’t do and she was trapped there with me. There was an upside for me, too. Much of the evening chores would be done by the time I finally got home.

From Story Worth 12/23/17

Lisa asks: What is one of the most selfless thing you've done?

   Wow! It’s much easier to write about something stupid I’ve done than something selfless. This question about selflessness challenges something deep in my core. Self-promotions was forbidden, but, it was so much a part of the ethic with which I was raised that I cannot remember any specific admonitions against it. However, the values were deeply inculcated. Likely that is attributable to my Scandinavian heritage. Egalitarianism was the rule of the day. “Don’t blow your own horn!” While, you may be as good as everyone else, by all means don’t act as if you are superior to another.

    There is a story which I think illustrates this moral with a bit of humor.

    “Paddy, an Irishman, and his Norwegian neighbor, Ole, are running against each other for a seat on the county commission. They are invited to give a campaign speech at the country fair. Paddy goes first. When he is done speaking the Irish in the crowd give him a rousing ovation ‘Way to go Paddy!’ ‘Paddy’s our man!’ When the cheering dies down Ole gives his speech. When he finishes his speech the Norwegians in the crowd say in disgust ‘Who does he think he is?’”

    Trying to answer this question of ‘selfless things I’ve done’ provokes an existential crisis! Even trying to think about a selfless thing I have done seems a stretch too far. As soon as I think of something selfless I did, all of the intangible benefits I received from that act come to mind. Then, whatever it was, no longer seems selfless. What I have done, that may appear selfless to another, doesn’t seem selfless to me.

    Philosophically, or perhaps theologically, I do not believe that there is such a thing as a pure motive. All supposedly selfless acts are contaminated by some aspect selfishness.

    So, there you have it, my ruminations about being selfless with no examples of selfless behavior.

from Story Worth 12/13/17

ONE OF THE STUPIDEST THINGS I'VE DONE

   Having done an incredible number of stupid things it is difficult to prioritize them. Therefore, I’ve chosen something a bit more global than an isolated dumb thing. Previously I’ve written about the one room country school which I attended. It was the site of some stupid things that I did. However, my focus will begin with something that began in elementary school but carried far beyond it.

    Judging from my report cards I was a good student....for three years. While in the first three grades all my marks were very good...including deportment, i.e., behavior on which we were graded. All that changed in the fourth grade where, I shifted from being a good student, to being one where my goal became to see how little I could do and still get by. Passing and grades became the goal, and learning was not important. This behavior continued through high school.

    Obviously that attitude did not serve me well and the reckoning came when I began college. Perhaps, even had I been a serious scholar, the shift to college would have been difficult. But, given my total lack of academic discipline for all those years, the adjustment was much harder. The joy of learning had passed me by and any studying I did was test or grade oriented. Thinking back on those years always brings pangs of regret for the opportunities I missed. On the other hand, I am deeply grateful for the second, third, fourth...chances I had so that recovery was possible. Perhaps my own history explains, at least in part, my joy now working with elementary students when I see their faces light up with discovery

From Story Worth 12/9/17

Memories Of Country School   

Perhaps I inhabit an alternative universe. Volunteering as I do now at Noble Academy, a Hmong charter school in Brooklyn Park, MN. Is a total contrast to the one room school I attended for eight grades. At Noble there are multiple computers in the classroom plus a computer lab with over thirty computers. The white board at the front of the classroom is computerized, like a huge touch screen monitor. When I asked a class which four countries border Thailand their first impulse was to turn to Google.

    Contrasted with my current universe was my elementary schoolhouse. Teaching aids were blackboards, a sand table and a globe suspended by rope hanging in the corner. The alphabet, in Palmer Method Cursive, was on cards above the blackboards. There was metal wall locker with a few books. For my first eight years heat was from coal stove which had to be stoked in the morning. The building was not insulated so no heat was retained overnight. The last four years I was there we had an oil burner so it could be turned down but kept a bit of warmth overnight. There was electricity for the hanging lights but I never remember plugging anything into a wall socket. Water was outside and came from a cistern which was replenished from run off from the roof. Water was accessed via a long handled pump. For a drink of water during school there was a five gallon Red Wing Crock with a spigot at the bottom. Lunches were carried from home in lunch buckets or syrup pails. Lunches were left in the entry room until noon and on the coldest days sandwiches might be frozen. Two outhouses, one for girls and other for boys, were behind the school. Old fashioned desks (think little house on the Prairie) were screwed to wood runners in three rows with the bigger desks at the back. Pictures of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington hung high on the front wall between the Regulator Clock. The teachers desk was like a typical office desk holding a brass hand bell for calling students in from recess and lunch. There were two 15 minute recesses, one morning and one afternoon. Lunch hour varied; if it was an hour we got out for the day at 4:00 but some years it was thirty minutes and then school ended at 3:30 but school always began at 9:00.

The amenities outside made us count our blessings as we compared our school with others. The school yard was quite large, two and half acres (?) and was ringed by a double row of quite young fir trees, 6-15 feet high, which served very well for any games that involved hiding. There was a hill, steep and long enough, for sledding. Below the hill was room for a ball diamond. About my fourth grade year The horse barn was dismantled about my fourth grade year (it had been many year since anyone had ridden horse back to school) and the wood used to make a backstop for baseball.

The school has an interesting role in our family history. My father, born 1883, was the first to attend as did his three siblings. In 1927 my mother, a single woman began teaching there. Needing a place to board she got a room with my father and his widowed mother. Dad liked to kid that she came for a room and never left. While she taught there one of her students was the father of her son’s wife. Two of my cousins attended during the thirties, Leslie and Marjorie Negstad. Finally, my three siblings and I attended. I was five when I began...no kindergarten...and didn’t turn six until my October 28, birthday. My way was eased by a sister and two brothers, which, I suppose was particularly helpful walking that mile to school and back as a first grader.

Country schools were supervised by a county school superintended elected by popular vote. Miss van Maanen was the first one I remember. She drove some old car...not a Ford or Chevy...’20s vintage. During our school day she would approach the school from the east which offered a slight downhill decline in the road. Depressing the clutch she’d coast silently into the school yard, exit her car quietly and noiselessly enter the entry. From the entry she’d listen, none of us knew she was there, I suppose to evaluate the teacher’s classroom management, before entering the classroom. At the end of eight grade all the country school students would assemble in Brookings for standardized testing before we passed into ninth grade.

The annual Christmas pageant was always a big thing. With a wire stretched from wall to wall across the front third of the room and wires from that to the front wall, curtains were hung creating stage left and right. The opening in the center was the stage area. All the families came for the evening production so the room was crammed with standing room only. Naturally it all ended with eating Christmas cookies.

Teaching must have been a challenge. During my eight years there was always at least one student in each of the eight grades. The teacher would gather a class by her desk for instruction but of course everyone could hear everything being said. Three teachers presided during my tenure; one for my first three years, a different one for each of fourth and fifth grades and one for the last thee. The final teacher, Bonnie Pierce, boarded with us during the week and went home to Bruce, S.D., weekends.

Lost in the mists of time is much clarity about what I learned. Obviously I learned to read, write and the basics of arithmetic. Home was probably as educational as school. I do remember my mother teaching my how to outline, a skill that has served me well over the years. My parents were always grammatically correct which has been both helpful and not. On the one hand, I can tell by hearing what is proper grammar. On the other hand, in English classes when studying the finer points of grammar I didn’t pay much attention and just relied on my ear. That came back to haunt me when I studies foreign languages in college and finally had to learn the essentials of grammar.

Evaluating my elementary experience is hard. At a basic level it did what it was supposed to do. I graduated, finished high school and graduated from college and seminary. It taught me the basics and I learned much from the interactions with the other students both older and younger. It is impossible to recover where I learned what I now know. Much of had to have come from elementary school. At the least it retains a place in my memory of a time long ago in a far different world that no longer exists.

Recommended Reading: Strangers In Our Midst

    This one may be a bit 'off the radar' with a local author and publishing company.  Strangers In Our Midst, Kathleen Vellenga, 2013, 40 Press.  Kathleen, the descendant of two of the characters in her historical novel, has deeply researched both her Mayflower roots and the Wampanoag Indian tribe for this book.  She served in the Minnesota House Of Representatives 1981-1994.
   Kathleen was at our book club when we discussed her book.  The plot as it relates to the passengers on the Mayflower is very accurate historically.  She did deep research on the Wampanoag Indians, and, while the story is largely fictitious, members of the tribe have verified that her representations of their life and customs are accurate.
  The main thrust of the story revolves around the friendship, fictitious, of  two young girls, one from the Mayflower and the other from the Wampanoags. The narrative shifts voices alternating  between these two young women.  Elizabeth is Kathleen's ancestor; there is quite a bit of historical record about her and many of the details in the book are true to that.  Attitash, the Indian women is fictional.
   The sequel In The Midst Of Bounty, was published in 2016 and picks up where the other book left off.  Vellenga is working on a third book that follows the same characters.

From 'Story Worth" 12/2/17

HIGH SCHOOL FRIENDS THEN AND NOW

     There were two boys on neighboring farms my age when we children. Together we attended eight years of country school and many years of Sunday School.  Wayne Risty lived two miles away and Lloyd Hope lived three and half.  We began elementary school together and remained classmate until we graduated from Sinai High School in 1956 and then we went our separate ways. While in elementary school Lloyd and I occasionally stayed over night in each other's home but Wayne and I never did. 

    Lloyd was one of six children so staying at his house was fun.  He had two older brothers and a younger brother and two younger sisters. Lloyd's father, Arndt, had immigrated from Norway, via Canada.  He was very extroverted and his Norwegian was better than his English.  The Hopes milked many cows by hand.  Arndt would carry on long conversations with himself in Norwegian as he milked.

    There were eleven students in the freshman class when we began High School.  In that first year my closest friends were Roger Husby and Wayne Quam,  We were "The Three Musketeers."   But, Wayne dropped out after a year to work as a bridge builder, which he did until he retired, a bit early, because his knees were worn out from the work.  Wayne, who died a couple of years ago, never recovered from the death of his only child, a daughter who died as a young women.  We seldom saw each other over the years even though he was never far from Sinai.  However, a few years ago I stopped at his rural farmhouse one day for a visit.  He was home alone because his wife was at work.  It was a good visit but unfortunately our last.  Charles Sween also dropped out of school and Mark Stime transferred to a Lutheran Boarding School, Augustana Academy, Canton. S.D.  Mark now lives in Brookings and we are in regular contact via Facebook.

    Roger and I continued on as best buds.  We were both on the football and basketball teams.  Roger's family moved to Brookings but, Roger not liking school there, rented a room in Sinai and graduated from Sinai High with me.  After graduation Roger enlisted in the Army and I enrolled at South Dakota State University.  When he was home on leave we'd see each other but he soon moved away and our contacts were very infrequent.  He married a couple of times, had several children and lived in Iowa and other more southern states.  The last time we talked was about thirty years ago when he called me, though I don't remember much of the conversation.  Several of his siblings remained near Sinai so I would hear about him from them.  Roger died as an unrecovered alcoholic.  

    During high school Lloyd and I were not particularly close though we were on the basketball team together.  During my second year at State College we roomed together.  Lloyd had gone to a trade school in S. D., and was working as a cabinet maker in Brookings.  His older brother, Rolf, and David Halvorson (also from Sinai) were also attending State.  We lived in the tiny basement, with two other students, Larry and Jim (who were uncle and nephew), of Reuben and Doris Skordal.  Reuben and Doris were originally from Sinai. too.

    Three years out of high school Lloyd married Judy Sneve when she graduated from Sinai High.  They lived several places including Brookings, Richfield, MN. and Sinai.  Judy died of cancer but before she did she told Lloyd that after her death he should marry the widow who lived next door to them in Richfield.  They were married but eventually divorced and Lloyd moved to Volga, S.D., where he lives now.

    While we seldom saw each over the years we remained connected by Sinai and his siblings who lived there.  Some years ago (eight?) needing a fourth person for our golf group we invited Lloyd to join us.  He played with us for several years until he moved to Volga.  Golf gave us the most regular and extended contact we'd had since we lived together in 1957-58.  When I'm in S.D. now we regularly have dinner together.

   Of the eight of us who graduated together four have died.  In September, while I was in S.D., I called Lloyd and Eleda (Sagmoe) Brotsky, and, over dinner, we had a mini-class reunion which included Joanne and Eleda's husband, Bob.  Eleda and Bob live near Brookings.   She taught nursing at South Dakota State for many years and is now retired.

    Wayne Risty and I were in contact until his death a couple of years ago.  After the Army he lived out west awhile, then lived near Sinai and finally in Brookings.  He farmed with his brother on the home farm where he grew up.  Commuting to the farm from Brookings he'd drive through Sinai.  If he saw me at my Sinai Garage he'd stop to talk.  Wayne, had a large family, eight children in all.