Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Beliefs Yesterday and Today
One of the books I read over the holidays was entitled The Lost Gospel of Judas Iscariot by Bart Ehrman, a noted scholar of early Christianity and Professor of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. It is an intriguing book that reviews the growth of the Christian church after Jesus’ death and explains the various points of view that existed among early Christians and Jews from approximately 35 AD until 300 AD when Emperor Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire.
The ancient papyrus document, The Gospel of Judas Iscariot, has been carbon dated to about the middle of that time. It contains comments and views, many that are not in concert with the beliefs which were adopted by Constantine, and later, the Catholic Church in Rome. If you are interested in this sort of thing, I recommend the book to you.
It reminded me of the strong and passionate views that people throughout the years, from 2000 years ago to today, have about their beliefs. Sometimes, as in ancient days, this passion can lead to violence. (Just last week, I read a newspaper story about Coptic Christians who were killed in Egypt by a suicide bomber. Interestingly, Coptic is the ancient language in which The Gospel of Judas Iscariot was written.)
However, two recent events in St. Cloud illustrated for me most clearly how vital and important religion beliefs remain today:
The first is my membership in St. Cloud School District’s Religious Task Force. The general purpose of the Task Force is to determine if a rewriting of the District policy is appropriate and, if so, what should be included in the new policy. This task force is made up of members of various faiths: Jewish, Christian, Islam.
In our two meetings thus far, I have been impressed with the openness, honestly and passionate beliefs of each Task Force member. They understand that we are here together in the same community and need to value and respect each other in order to make the learning environment of our school district an appropriate, comfortable and good place for all kids to learn—no matter what their religious views and customs.
But an even more personal event played out before my eyes on New Year’s Day. I attended the memorial service of a Tech alumnus who graduated in 2007. Sean Osterman was a Marine that was killed in Afghanistan last week by the Taliban—a group that has radical religious views. It was his second tour of Afghanistan. I remember Sean as an honest and good kid who cared about everyone. All through high school, his goal was serve his country after graduation.
It was a beautiful “Marine” memorial service at Atonement Lutheran. There were many uniforms, American flags and deeply felt religious moments. The chaplain’s sermon was wonderful. One comment that I remember is that he said most young people “die of something.” In Sean’s case, “he died for something.” The importance of Sean’s ultimate sacrifice was underscored by the attendance of Governor Palenty, Governor-Elect Dayton and Senator Klobuchar.
Driving home on that very cold first day of a new year, I reflected on how my life as the Principal of Tech and our lives as citizens of St. Cloud are tied to our religious ancestors and the regions of the world from which our religious ancestors originated. It may not be a straight line from the Middle East through Professor Ehrman’s book to Atonement Lutheran. But the lines do create a web of religious beliefs from 35 AD to 2011 AD that link and hold us.
The ancient papyrus document, The Gospel of Judas Iscariot, has been carbon dated to about the middle of that time. It contains comments and views, many that are not in concert with the beliefs which were adopted by Constantine, and later, the Catholic Church in Rome. If you are interested in this sort of thing, I recommend the book to you.
It reminded me of the strong and passionate views that people throughout the years, from 2000 years ago to today, have about their beliefs. Sometimes, as in ancient days, this passion can lead to violence. (Just last week, I read a newspaper story about Coptic Christians who were killed in Egypt by a suicide bomber. Interestingly, Coptic is the ancient language in which The Gospel of Judas Iscariot was written.)
However, two recent events in St. Cloud illustrated for me most clearly how vital and important religion beliefs remain today:
The first is my membership in St. Cloud School District’s Religious Task Force. The general purpose of the Task Force is to determine if a rewriting of the District policy is appropriate and, if so, what should be included in the new policy. This task force is made up of members of various faiths: Jewish, Christian, Islam.
In our two meetings thus far, I have been impressed with the openness, honestly and passionate beliefs of each Task Force member. They understand that we are here together in the same community and need to value and respect each other in order to make the learning environment of our school district an appropriate, comfortable and good place for all kids to learn—no matter what their religious views and customs.
But an even more personal event played out before my eyes on New Year’s Day. I attended the memorial service of a Tech alumnus who graduated in 2007. Sean Osterman was a Marine that was killed in Afghanistan last week by the Taliban—a group that has radical religious views. It was his second tour of Afghanistan. I remember Sean as an honest and good kid who cared about everyone. All through high school, his goal was serve his country after graduation.
It was a beautiful “Marine” memorial service at Atonement Lutheran. There were many uniforms, American flags and deeply felt religious moments. The chaplain’s sermon was wonderful. One comment that I remember is that he said most young people “die of something.” In Sean’s case, “he died for something.” The importance of Sean’s ultimate sacrifice was underscored by the attendance of Governor Palenty, Governor-Elect Dayton and Senator Klobuchar.
Driving home on that very cold first day of a new year, I reflected on how my life as the Principal of Tech and our lives as citizens of St. Cloud are tied to our religious ancestors and the regions of the world from which our religious ancestors originated. It may not be a straight line from the Middle East through Professor Ehrman’s book to Atonement Lutheran. But the lines do create a web of religious beliefs from 35 AD to 2011 AD that link and hold us.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Remembering World War II Today
This year is the 65th Anniversary of the End of World War II. It was the deadliest war in the history of the world. There were a total of 60 million people killed. There were 418,000 US military casualties.
The American men and women who fought in that war have been called “The Greatest Generation.” Without them and their contribution to the victory over Germany, Italy and Japan, the world would likely have descended into a second Dark Age.
Several years ago, actor and director Tom Hanks appeared on a talk show to promote the World War II Memorial in Washington D.C. He perhaps said it best when describing the American men and women soldiers of the war: “They saved the world.”
A month ago, I asked staff who had relatives that served in World War II to share their stories. On Veterans Day, November 11, I organized the stories and emailed them to the Tech staff. Most of the staff agreed to have their stories placed on my blog.
Thanks to the thirteen staff members who proudly shared their stories about their relatives who were members of “The Greatest Generation.”
Barbie Schoenleben—Principal’s Secretary
My dad, Roger Lee Barrett was drafted into the Unites States Air Force in 1942. He had just started colle
ge when he was called. He was a great musician and decided to try out for the Air Force Band. B 24 Liberator
He had such great rhythm that they placed him as a radio operator! (Morse code needed rhythm, I guess.) Not what he hoped. He flew 37 bombing missions over Germany. (He initially was to only fly 25 missions.) He flew in a B24 bomber and was enlisted from 1942-46.
One story he shared with me was while flying, the enemy would shoot underneath the plan. He would sit on his helmet! (Not much protection).
Dad earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. I’m very proud of my dad and the service he did.
["Heroism or extraordinary achievement while participating in an aerial flight."
The Distinguished Flying Cross, created by Congress 80 years ago, is America’s oldest military aviation award.]
Loren Terlisner—Math Teacher
Edward Ritter is Loren’s father-in-law. He was born on April 19, 1924, and is 86 years old today.
On December 28, 1944, at the age of 20, Edward Ritter was sworn into the United States Army at Fort Snelling. After basic training at Camp Walters in Mineral Springs, Texas (west of Fort Worth), they were given some time on leave.
The he and his unit were sent to Fort Mead, Maryland, for six weeks to prepare to go to Germany. During their leave, Germany had surrendered, ending the war in Europe. So instead of going to Germany, they went to the Vancouver Barracks at Vancouver, Washington. This took a week by train.
On July 4, 1945, they left by ship for Okinawa, which is in the Sea of Japan. After a brief stop in Hawaii, they continued on and had a layover in the Caroline Islands, specifically the island of Mog Mog.
They continued, in convoy, to Okinawa, landing August 14, 1945. While on Okinawa, supplies were short. Each soldier had less than a hand grenade and a clip of bullets to defend the air strip.
They were scheduled to be replacements for the 32nd Infantry Division and be part of the invading and occupying forces in Japan. But, while on rout to Okinawa, the first A-bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, Monday, August 6th. Three days later, August 9th, the second A-bomb was detonated over Nagasaki. These events were the only active deployments of nuclear weapons in war.
On August 15th Japan announced its surrender to the Allied Powers and signed the Instrument of surrender on September 2nd, officially ending the Pacific War and therefore World War II. Germany had signed its Instrument of Surrender on May 7th, ending the war in Europe. With the war ending, Edward and his unit went on to South Korea as Occupational Forces.
Edward returned to the United States in early October 1946 and was discharged. His Honorable Discharge was finalized in November 1946.
He had given his future wife, Alberta Schuster, a diamond engagement ring for Christmas in 1944. They were married November 27th, 1946.
Angie Haus—Science Teacher
Here is some information about two people who are very dear to me and the service they have done for our country.
My Grandpa Nestor Sybilrud served in World War II. In 1942 he enlisted in the Army and served with the 5th Armored Division for four years. He saw duty in Europe, including Normandy. He was awarded the Bronze Star. He was always very active in the VFW. Even into his early 90’s he would play “Taps” at military funerals. He passed away at the young age of 93. He was an amazing person.
My Grandpa Ken Gayken enlisted in the Army in 1943. He was on a grain full of soldiers on their way to Normandy. Some officers came aboard the train and picked four soldiers to be military prison guards at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Grandpa was one of them. He stayed there for the remainder of his duty. What a lucky twist of fate for our family.
[The Bronze Star Medal (or BSM) is a United States Armed Forces individual military decoration that may be awarded for bravery, acts of merit, or meritorious service. When awarded for bravery, it is the fourth-highest combat award of the U.S. Armed Forces and the ninth highest military award (including both combat and non-combat awards) in the order of precedence of U.S. military decorations.]
Tori Baker-Spanish Teacher
My great uncles Kelly and Glen Gardner served in World War II. They were the youngest of my great grandmother Ida’s surviving eight children (four children died in childbirth). Glen and Kelly were both fighter pilots. Glen flew for four years with a squadron stationed in England, while Kelly (the youngest) was assigned to the Pacific theater of war.
During a mission over the Philippines, Kelly’s plane was shot down. Grandma Great (as we all called her) was notified that his plane had disappeared somewhere over the Pacific and all contact had been lost. Kelly was declared “missing in action.”
For many months Grandma Great and others prayed that he would be found alive and safe. Nearly three months had passed when a Red Cross agent came to the door of my Grandma Great’s house and informed her that Kelly was in a Red Cross hospital in Hawaii.
He had received serious head injuries in the crash and had been unconscious for weeks. It wasn’t until he had regained consciousness that doctors were able to figure out who he was and who to contact. Kelly remained in the hospital for several months before he was discharged and returned home.
Today Kelly lives near his children in Salt Lake City. He still suffers from the injuries caused from the crash. My great uncle Glen and his wife are residents of Arizona.
Jeanne Bower—Special Ed Teacher
P-70 Night Fighter
My dad, Arthur Hansen, proudly served as a pilot and captain in the Unites States Air Force during World War II. While attending the University of Minnesota in December of 1941, Arthur made a patriotic decision to postpone the remaining year of his college education and enlist in the Air Force.
He was selected to receive the training required to operate newly developed radar interception techniques and participate in the second class of all-weather trainees. Arthur was stationed in Hawaii where he piloted P-70s and P-61s, which were the first air craft designed to use radar. He and his crew regularly guided B-24 bombers to islands in the Pacific Ocean during the night and inclement weather.
P-61 Black Widow
My dad rarely spoke of his war experiences and I was only occasionally able to coax him into recalling and sharing some of his memories. Dad easily expressed himself in writing, so I urged him to record his life experiences. His journal, which I greatly cherish, includes many references to his experiences.
He wrote of frightening, exhausting missions and the loss of many men who had become his close friends. However, he most often wrote of his positive experiences and personal relationships during the war.
For as many years as I can remember, a photograph of Dad piloting a U. S. Air Force airplane hung by his chair in the den. Dad was buried at the Fort Snelling Cemetery two years ago, but the photo still hangs on the wall and triggers happy memories and feelings of pride.
Marcy Kickhafer—Math Teacher
My grandfather Milo E. Reber (1919-2005) served in World War II. He was part of the 20th Armored Division in the Army. He was drafted on June 30, 1942 and sent to Fort Crook, Nebraska. He was a Dental Technician with the medics. After basics he went through 12 weeks of dental school. He departed February 6, 1945, to go to France.
During this time he served in central Europe (Austria, France, and Germany). The 20th Armored Division was the division that liberated Dachau Concentration Camp. He left Europe July 25, 1945, arriving back in the states on August 2.
The 20th Armored Division was supposed to invade Japan, but on August 6 the first atomic bomb was dropped and they were no longer needed. Milo was discharged on December 19, 1945.
In March 1946 he married my grandmother (Lovera) and started their live together. They had 6 children, 10 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren (as of now). They made their home in Naper, Nebraska.
Milo was always very proud of serving his country. He was proud to be an American, flying an American flag every day.
Jackie Peterson—ELL Teacher
Both of my grandpas served in World War II.
Herman Ulrich, my maternal grandfather, was involved on the front lines for most of his time in the war. He fought in New Guinea and the Philippines as a front line machine gunner. He was responsible for freeing American POWs and personally rescued many POWs in the Philippines. He received the Bronze Star for bravery.
While fighting in the Philippines, he found a beautiful ring with precious gems that he took from a deceased Philippine General who was serving with the Japanese. Grandpa still has it today.
Clarence Peterson, my paternal grandfather was part of the police force in Japan after the atom bomb was dropped. He policed both Hiroshima and Nagasaki to keep order in the cities.
Both spend time in Australia after the war, as was required by the military as a debriefing period before going back to the USA.
Mattea Decker—ELL Teacher
My grandfather, Mitchell Abraham Bloom, stated serving in the MN National Guard in 1941: Viking Division, 1st Infantry Division. He was in the invasion of Africa and Sicily. During the invasion of Sicily he was wounded. He did not serve for, but met General Patton while he was in the hospital in Italy. After that, he was sent to England to have a steel plate put in his left arm.
He was then sent to the invasion of Normandy on June 6th, 1944. They were sent on barges and the men were terrified because they didn’t know if they would be blown away by the Germans on the shore.
After freeing France and marching through Paris, they went on to Belgium and stayed there until the war ended on VE Day, but he didn’t come home until December. While in Belgium they had a foxhole dug in the garbage dumps and rats were everywhere.
At one point, four German soldiers, including their general, surrendered to my grandpa and his comrades. My grandpa spoke five languages, one of them German, so he was able to translate the German soldiers intentions.
My grandpa received a Silver Star, Bronze Star and a Purple Heart with Four Oak Leaf Clusters.
It was necessary to leave the bullet that was lodged in his brain. Eventually tissue grew around it and a tumor developed. This caused my grandpa to become blind. That’s how I knew him. I remember going to the VA to visit, and he always knew when I was coming because he could just see my shadow.
[The Silver Star is the third-highest military decoration that can be awarded to a member of any branch of the United States armed forces. "Gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States.]
He had such great rhythm that they placed him as a radio operator! (Morse code needed rhythm, I guess.) Not what he hoped. He flew 37 bombing missions over Germany. (He initially was to only fly 25 missions.) He flew in a B24 bomber and was enlisted from 1942-46.
One story he shared with me was while flying, the enemy would shoot underneath the plan. He would sit on his helmet! (Not much protection).
Dad earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. I’m very proud of my dad and the service he did.
["Heroism or extraordinary achievement while participating in an aerial flight."
The Distinguished Flying Cross, created by Congress 80 years ago, is America’s oldest military aviation award.]
Loren Terlisner—Math Teacher
Edward Ritter is Loren’s father-in-law. He was born on April 19, 1924, and is 86 years old today.
On December 28, 1944, at the age of 20, Edward Ritter was sworn into the United States Army at Fort Snelling. After basic training at Camp Walters in Mineral Springs, Texas (west of Fort Worth), they were given some time on leave.
The he and his unit were sent to Fort Mead, Maryland, for six weeks to prepare to go to Germany. During their leave, Germany had surrendered, ending the war in Europe. So instead of going to Germany, they went to the Vancouver Barracks at Vancouver, Washington. This took a week by train.
On July 4, 1945, they left by ship for Okinawa, which is in the Sea of Japan. After a brief stop in Hawaii, they continued on and had a layover in the Caroline Islands, specifically the island of Mog Mog.
They continued, in convoy, to Okinawa, landing August 14, 1945. While on Okinawa, supplies were short. Each soldier had less than a hand grenade and a clip of bullets to defend the air strip.
They were scheduled to be replacements for the 32nd Infantry Division and be part of the invading and occupying forces in Japan. But, while on rout to Okinawa, the first A-bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, Monday, August 6th. Three days later, August 9th, the second A-bomb was detonated over Nagasaki. These events were the only active deployments of nuclear weapons in war.
On August 15th Japan announced its surrender to the Allied Powers and signed the Instrument of surrender on September 2nd, officially ending the Pacific War and therefore World War II. Germany had signed its Instrument of Surrender on May 7th, ending the war in Europe. With the war ending, Edward and his unit went on to South Korea as Occupational Forces.
Edward returned to the United States in early October 1946 and was discharged. His Honorable Discharge was finalized in November 1946.
He had given his future wife, Alberta Schuster, a diamond engagement ring for Christmas in 1944. They were married November 27th, 1946.
Angie Haus—Science Teacher
Here is some information about two people who are very dear to me and the service they have done for our country.
My Grandpa Nestor Sybilrud served in World War II. In 1942 he enlisted in the Army and served with the 5th Armored Division for four years. He saw duty in Europe, including Normandy. He was awarded the Bronze Star. He was always very active in the VFW. Even into his early 90’s he would play “Taps” at military funerals. He passed away at the young age of 93. He was an amazing person.
My Grandpa Ken Gayken enlisted in the Army in 1943. He was on a grain full of soldiers on their way to Normandy. Some officers came aboard the train and picked four soldiers to be military prison guards at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Grandpa was one of them. He stayed there for the remainder of his duty. What a lucky twist of fate for our family.
[The Bronze Star Medal (or BSM) is a United States Armed Forces individual military decoration that may be awarded for bravery, acts of merit, or meritorious service. When awarded for bravery, it is the fourth-highest combat award of the U.S. Armed Forces and the ninth highest military award (including both combat and non-combat awards) in the order of precedence of U.S. military decorations.]
Tori Baker-Spanish Teacher
My great uncles Kelly and Glen Gardner served in World War II. They were the youngest of my great grandmother Ida’s surviving eight children (four children died in childbirth). Glen and Kelly were both fighter pilots. Glen flew for four years with a squadron stationed in England, while Kelly (the youngest) was assigned to the Pacific theater of war.
During a mission over the Philippines, Kelly’s plane was shot down. Grandma Great (as we all called her) was notified that his plane had disappeared somewhere over the Pacific and all contact had been lost. Kelly was declared “missing in action.”
For many months Grandma Great and others prayed that he would be found alive and safe. Nearly three months had passed when a Red Cross agent came to the door of my Grandma Great’s house and informed her that Kelly was in a Red Cross hospital in Hawaii.
He had received serious head injuries in the crash and had been unconscious for weeks. It wasn’t until he had regained consciousness that doctors were able to figure out who he was and who to contact. Kelly remained in the hospital for several months before he was discharged and returned home.
Today Kelly lives near his children in Salt Lake City. He still suffers from the injuries caused from the crash. My great uncle Glen and his wife are residents of Arizona.
Jeanne Bower—Special Ed Teacher
P-70 Night Fighter
My dad, Arthur Hansen, proudly served as a pilot and captain in the Unites States Air Force during World War II. While attending the University of Minnesota in December of 1941, Arthur made a patriotic decision to postpone the remaining year of his college education and enlist in the Air Force.
He was selected to receive the training required to operate newly developed radar interception techniques and participate in the second class of all-weather trainees. Arthur was stationed in Hawaii where he piloted P-70s and P-61s, which were the first air craft designed to use radar. He and his crew regularly guided B-24 bombers to islands in the Pacific Ocean during the night and inclement weather.
P-61 Black Widow
My dad rarely spoke of his war experiences and I was only occasionally able to coax him into recalling and sharing some of his memories. Dad easily expressed himself in writing, so I urged him to record his life experiences. His journal, which I greatly cherish, includes many references to his experiences.
He wrote of frightening, exhausting missions and the loss of many men who had become his close friends. However, he most often wrote of his positive experiences and personal relationships during the war.
For as many years as I can remember, a photograph of Dad piloting a U. S. Air Force airplane hung by his chair in the den. Dad was buried at the Fort Snelling Cemetery two years ago, but the photo still hangs on the wall and triggers happy memories and feelings of pride.
Marcy Kickhafer—Math Teacher
My grandfather Milo E. Reber (1919-2005) served in World War II. He was part of the 20th Armored Division in the Army. He was drafted on June 30, 1942 and sent to Fort Crook, Nebraska. He was a Dental Technician with the medics. After basics he went through 12 weeks of dental school. He departed February 6, 1945, to go to France.
During this time he served in central Europe (Austria, France, and Germany). The 20th Armored Division was the division that liberated Dachau Concentration Camp. He left Europe July 25, 1945, arriving back in the states on August 2.
The 20th Armored Division was supposed to invade Japan, but on August 6 the first atomic bomb was dropped and they were no longer needed. Milo was discharged on December 19, 1945.
In March 1946 he married my grandmother (Lovera) and started their live together. They had 6 children, 10 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren (as of now). They made their home in Naper, Nebraska.
Milo was always very proud of serving his country. He was proud to be an American, flying an American flag every day.
Jackie Peterson—ELL Teacher
Both of my grandpas served in World War II.
Herman Ulrich, my maternal grandfather, was involved on the front lines for most of his time in the war. He fought in New Guinea and the Philippines as a front line machine gunner. He was responsible for freeing American POWs and personally rescued many POWs in the Philippines. He received the Bronze Star for bravery.
While fighting in the Philippines, he found a beautiful ring with precious gems that he took from a deceased Philippine General who was serving with the Japanese. Grandpa still has it today.
Clarence Peterson, my paternal grandfather was part of the police force in Japan after the atom bomb was dropped. He policed both Hiroshima and Nagasaki to keep order in the cities.
Both spend time in Australia after the war, as was required by the military as a debriefing period before going back to the USA.
Mattea Decker—ELL Teacher
My grandfather, Mitchell Abraham Bloom, stated serving in the MN National Guard in 1941: Viking Division, 1st Infantry Division. He was in the invasion of Africa and Sicily. During the invasion of Sicily he was wounded. He did not serve for, but met General Patton while he was in the hospital in Italy. After that, he was sent to England to have a steel plate put in his left arm.
He was then sent to the invasion of Normandy on June 6th, 1944. They were sent on barges and the men were terrified because they didn’t know if they would be blown away by the Germans on the shore.
After freeing France and marching through Paris, they went on to Belgium and stayed there until the war ended on VE Day, but he didn’t come home until December. While in Belgium they had a foxhole dug in the garbage dumps and rats were everywhere.
At one point, four German soldiers, including their general, surrendered to my grandpa and his comrades. My grandpa spoke five languages, one of them German, so he was able to translate the German soldiers intentions.
My grandpa received a Silver Star, Bronze Star and a Purple Heart with Four Oak Leaf Clusters.
It was necessary to leave the bullet that was lodged in his brain. Eventually tissue grew around it and a tumor developed. This caused my grandpa to become blind. That’s how I knew him. I remember going to the VA to visit, and he always knew when I was coming because he could just see my shadow.
[The Silver Star is the third-highest military decoration that can be awarded to a member of any branch of the United States armed forces. "Gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States.]
[The Purple Heart differs from all other decorations in that an individual is not "recommended" for the decoration; rather he or she is entitled to it upon meeting specific criteria. In general, it is awarded when a soldier is wounded or killed in action. A Purple Heart is authorized for the first wound suffered but for each subsequent award (wound/injury) an Oak Leaf Cluster will be awarded to be worn on the medal or ribbon.]
A final thought that I think is interesting is that my grandfather was Jewish. He fled Lithuania before the Nazis invaded and later fought as a United States soldier. None of his family members that stayed in Lithuania were ever found.
My step-grandpa, George Clinton Westra, was in the Navy. He was in the air core division and joined February 2, 1942. He was First Class Airman, flew PBT’s and guarded the coastline of Panama and Galapagos Islands.
My grandmother, Marylou Westra, formerly Marylou Bloom (maiden name Marylou Maile) was part of the Civil Air Patrol # G16. She was part of the first group of civil Air Patrol in the United States.
Lastly, my great uncle Sylvester Decker was a POW in 1944 in Germany. He spoke German so they used him as a translator. He received the Silver Star.
I think there is more, but this is what I know about.
Joyce Terwey—Health Assistant
I don’t know anybody specific that served in WWII; however, my great aunt (whom I currently care for) resides in a nursing home in Melrose. She will be 101 on November 11. She did not serve in the military; however, she did live in California during the war and worked as an inspector in a factory called Eldon Industries.
Back then they made office supplies. However, during the war their company stopped producing office supplies and started making gas masks for the troops. She still recalls it clearly to this day. Eldon Industries is owned by Rubbermaid. I always found this to be fascinating.
Raymond Skelly—Ray’s Room
I was named after my dad’s cousin’s son. He was a pilot who was KIA in WW2. He was a bomber pilot on the aircraft carrier USS Intrepid. He was shot down during a raid on the Philippines in 1944. I’ve seen his tombstone. Weird to see one’s name on a tombstone.
David Schorn—Social Studies Teacher
My Uncle Hutch was stationed in the South Pacific and his job on the aircraft carrier was to bulldoze the fallen Japanese Kamikaze planes into the ocean. Uncle Hutch was never allowed to tell his story on orders from my Aunt Margie.
After her death, Hutch brought a few nephews together and told the story to us of the battle of the Pacific. At the close of the war, Uncle Hutch was stationed on the USS Missouri where the Japanese signed the surrender in 1945. Hutch is in the picture alongside General MacArthur.
An interesting side note: Hutch served with the youngest person in WWII. He was 13 years old and in the 7th grade. After his captain found out, the boy was sent home and lost all of his military rankings and benefits.
Leanne Klett—Spanish Teacher
My grandpa, Ralph A. O. Klett, entered military service on Jan. 28, 1944. He went via ship to England. Since he did not get seasick, he was chosen to clean up after the poor people who became ill. He was in the unit of BIG RED ONE. He landed in France on Normandy Beach.
On December 29, 1944, he got shot in the leg from a German sniper while running wire to an outpost. (Ironically, he is 100% German!) The doctor who saw him happened to be his family doctor from Minnesota. Since he knew him, he was luckily able to go to a hospital in Michigan for rehabilitation.
While on the way to head back to take a ship to England, the ambulance driver stopped in Paris and opened the back doors so that the wounded men could see the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triumph.
They used maggots on his leg during the trip to fight infection. Only when he could walk into the doctor’s office without crutches would he send him home. His buddies stood outside the door so he could lean on them as soon as he walked out. He was discharged on December 13, 1945.
My grandpa has the following awards: Purple Heart Fleur de Guerre, two Bronze Campaign Stars, Combat Infantry Badge, American Theater Ribbon, Good Conduct Medal, European African Middle Eastern Theater Ribbon and Victory Medal.
He was originally told he would never walk again. He was a mail man (on foot!) for over 40 years. He is now 94 years old and can still walk, quite slowly however.
[World War II Victory Medal. Service in US Forces WW II.]
[African Middle Eastern Theater Ribbon. Service in US Forces in WW II in Africa, Middle East]
Roger Ziemann--Principal
My Aunt Doreen and Uncle Ron both served in the Army Air Corp during World War II. They met sometime during the war and were married shortly after the war ended.
Doreen, my mom’s sister, was a dietician/nurse. Earlier in the war she had been engaged to a Navy officer named Wendell. His ship was sunk in the South Pacific and he was forever “missing in action.” Somewhere, I have letters that Doreen wrote to my mother. In them you can see that Doreen had a very difficult time accepting his death. She finally did after talking to an officer on a nearby ship that saw Wendell’s ship go down. Until the day she died at age 85, she wore the engagement ring on her right hand that Wendell had given her in 1941.
Uncle Ron Snowden was a pilot on a B-24 Bomber (Liberator) during the war. He was stationed in England and made bombing runs over France, Germany and other parts of Europe. He rarely talked of his war experiences but did share some that I remember.
He talked about how he hated being one of the first B 24’s to take off as the bombing formation formed up. If you were one of the first planes, you had to circle and circle until all the planes were in the air. Of course, that meant that you had gallons of less fuel to get back home than a later plane to join the formation.
He told about the time that his copilot, sitting next to him, was killed by flack. (Ron was slightly injured.) The plane was almost unflyable. Ron had to “hedge hop” through France and England in order to reach the airfield. “Hedge hopping” meant that you touched down every mile or two to gain enough lift and speed to go on.
Of course, his war experiences influenced him for the rest of his life—as they did all the men and women who served in World War II. But something very strange began to happen to Ron around 1960.
After the war Ron had finished his mechanical engineering degree and became a design engineer for General Motors. Ron and Doreen settled in upstate New York in a beautiful little village near Lake Ontario called Lyndonville, where Ron grew up. (Our family visited Ron and Doreen when I was six. I still remember feeding the swans bread as they swam in the village pond.) Later, Doreen went back to school for her teaching degree and became a health/home economics teacher.
Back to 1960. For no obvious reasons, Ron began to have “spells.” He would become weak and act strangely—uptight, angry, and nervous. (By the way, Ron could have coined the word “cool”--always calm and quick with a dry, humorous, educated comment.) So, for him to act like this was worrisome for the whole family.
Ron’s brother was a doctor, and with those connections, he went to various specialists throughout New York, including New York City. No one could find a reason why this guy was suddenly acting this way—not all the time—but periodically.
Finally, at his wits end, a specialist asked if Ron had been to Africa. At first Ron said no, but after a minute he told the doctor, “Well, a few times to North Africa during the war.”
Why was Ron in North Africa during the war? After a bombing run in southern Europe, it was too far from England to get back with the fuel they had. So, Ron and his fellow airmen would fly on to an airstrip in North Africa. They would refuel, and in a couple of days, fly back over the Atlantic, out of harm’s way, to their base in England.
Then the light went on. It turns out that Ron was suffering from chronic trpanosomiasis—a form of African sleeping sickness. It can take years for symptoms to develop after an individual has been bitten by an infected tsetse fly. On one or more of those stops in North Africa, Ron had become infected.
For the rest of his life, Ron dealt with his symptoms. One of the symptoms was that he had trouble with his balance at times. He was cautioned not to ride is motorcycle (which he loved). In tempting fate one day, shortly after his early retirement from General Motors, he decided he would just take a little ride. When he didn’t come home after an hour, Aunt Doreen became concerned.
He had fallen off the cycle and suffered a severe spinal injury. For the rest of his live, 20 years, he was confined to a wheel chair with Aunt Doreen caring for him each day.
Roger Ziemann--Principal
My Aunt Doreen and Uncle Ron both served in the Army Air Corp during World War II. They met sometime during the war and were married shortly after the war ended.
Doreen, my mom’s sister, was a dietician/nurse. Earlier in the war she had been engaged to a Navy officer named Wendell. His ship was sunk in the South Pacific and he was forever “missing in action.” Somewhere, I have letters that Doreen wrote to my mother. In them you can see that Doreen had a very difficult time accepting his death. She finally did after talking to an officer on a nearby ship that saw Wendell’s ship go down. Until the day she died at age 85, she wore the engagement ring on her right hand that Wendell had given her in 1941.
Uncle Ron Snowden was a pilot on a B-24 Bomber (Liberator) during the war. He was stationed in England and made bombing runs over France, Germany and other parts of Europe. He rarely talked of his war experiences but did share some that I remember.
He talked about how he hated being one of the first B 24’s to take off as the bombing formation formed up. If you were one of the first planes, you had to circle and circle until all the planes were in the air. Of course, that meant that you had gallons of less fuel to get back home than a later plane to join the formation.
He told about the time that his copilot, sitting next to him, was killed by flack. (Ron was slightly injured.) The plane was almost unflyable. Ron had to “hedge hop” through France and England in order to reach the airfield. “Hedge hopping” meant that you touched down every mile or two to gain enough lift and speed to go on.
Of course, his war experiences influenced him for the rest of his life—as they did all the men and women who served in World War II. But something very strange began to happen to Ron around 1960.
After the war Ron had finished his mechanical engineering degree and became a design engineer for General Motors. Ron and Doreen settled in upstate New York in a beautiful little village near Lake Ontario called Lyndonville, where Ron grew up. (Our family visited Ron and Doreen when I was six. I still remember feeding the swans bread as they swam in the village pond.) Later, Doreen went back to school for her teaching degree and became a health/home economics teacher.
Back to 1960. For no obvious reasons, Ron began to have “spells.” He would become weak and act strangely—uptight, angry, and nervous. (By the way, Ron could have coined the word “cool”--always calm and quick with a dry, humorous, educated comment.) So, for him to act like this was worrisome for the whole family.
Ron’s brother was a doctor, and with those connections, he went to various specialists throughout New York, including New York City. No one could find a reason why this guy was suddenly acting this way—not all the time—but periodically.
Finally, at his wits end, a specialist asked if Ron had been to Africa. At first Ron said no, but after a minute he told the doctor, “Well, a few times to North Africa during the war.”
Why was Ron in North Africa during the war? After a bombing run in southern Europe, it was too far from England to get back with the fuel they had. So, Ron and his fellow airmen would fly on to an airstrip in North Africa. They would refuel, and in a couple of days, fly back over the Atlantic, out of harm’s way, to their base in England.
Then the light went on. It turns out that Ron was suffering from chronic trpanosomiasis—a form of African sleeping sickness. It can take years for symptoms to develop after an individual has been bitten by an infected tsetse fly. On one or more of those stops in North Africa, Ron had become infected.
For the rest of his life, Ron dealt with his symptoms. One of the symptoms was that he had trouble with his balance at times. He was cautioned not to ride is motorcycle (which he loved). In tempting fate one day, shortly after his early retirement from General Motors, he decided he would just take a little ride. When he didn’t come home after an hour, Aunt Doreen became concerned.
He had fallen off the cycle and suffered a severe spinal injury. For the rest of his live, 20 years, he was confined to a wheel chair with Aunt Doreen caring for him each day.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
ELECTIONS, POLITICANS AND TECH
So another election day is on the horizon: November 2nd. The lawn signs, TV and newspaper ads are growing in size and volume. Candidates have their own websites—including many of our school board candidates. Almost daily, I receive an email from a political hopeful or organization that wants money to help with their campaign. They all state that they care about public school students and the staff that works with them. Everyone wants to improve public education.
Out of the concern for adequate financial resources stem other issues such as student achievement, teacher accountability, Special Education funding, administrative “dead wood”, athletics…and the list grows. And to be fair, almost all candidates do seem genuinely concerned about our schools and feel that they have a better plan to improve them than their opponent. And they can get it done whereas their opponent(s) might not.
Throughout the twelve exciting years I have been the principal at Tech, a host of politicians have visited. Some have worn the dual hats of a politician as well as a relative of a Tech student. In addition to perhaps twenty various School Board members, here is a partial list: Bachmann, Knoblach, Clark, Haws, Seversen, Kleis, Gottwalt, Ventura. Some have met with me and our teachers. Others have addressed a Social Studies class or two. Perhaps the most memorable was the visit by Governor Jesse Ventura.
It was January of 2000. The Governor had been in office for a year, and I had been the principal of Tech for almost six months. I have forgotten why Tech was chosen by Ventura’s office as a site to visit, but I do remember how excited Tech and the entire District were.
My assistant principals and I met with the Governor’s advance team. Details like where he would be dropped off, who would greet him, how he would enter the gym, student behavior expectations, internal and external security, etc. were discussed ad infinitum. The Times ran an article about our media specialist who had been a classmate and acquaintance of the Governor at Roosevelt High School in Minneapolis. Excitement was running high.
Finally the big day arrived--I was dead tired. I had answered a security call at 3:00 AM. I met the police at Tech a short time later and got home around 4:00. I never did get back to sleep. But, tired or not, this was the Governor of Minnesota, and I had the responsibility to make sure everything went off without a hitch.
All 1800 students, cautioned to be on their best behavior, were waiting in the gym. I was first in the receiving line waiting to greet the Governor at Door 9, the entrance nearest to the gym. If my memory serves, others in the line were the superintendent, assistant superintendent, the media specialist who had some kind of poster from the old days at Roosevelt, several school board members and a few others.
The Governor was late. We were all waiting. I knew how unpredictable 1800 confined teenagers could be. It was my first year at Tech. I felt that if anything went wrong it would also be my last.
Finally, fifteen minutes late, a Minnesota Highway Patrol cruiser pulled up to the door. The back door swung open. Slouched in the back seat was the Governor, dressed in cowboy boots, faded blue jeans, t-shirt and an old brown sport coat. I heard him say to the trooper, “Well, I guess it’s time to wake up.” As he stepped out of the car, I grabbed his hand and welcomed him to St. Cloud and Tech High School. He then met the rest of the receiving line and walked into the gym amid the cheers of our students. No doubt, many of them saw not the Governor of Minnesota, but professional wrestler and celebrity--Jesse “The Body” Ventura.
It all went well. The Governor gave a seeming unprepared speech about the importance of student involvement in the political process and how important it was for them to vote as eighteen-year-olds. He was out the door and back in the cruiser in about an hour. (There was also something about working hard and that he had been a Navy Seal.)
I walked around the gym floor as students were being dismissed to their classes; several reporters were interviewing students. As I was about to leave, a reporter from Minnesota Public Radio asked if he could talk to me (he had a microphone and a recorder.) “So, Mr. Ziemann, what did you think of Governor Ventura’s message. “ I said I thought it was fine and that it was also important to Governor Ventura in light that that so many young voters had helped elect him.
During the past twelve years, we have had various individuals serve as U.S. presidents, U.S. senators, U.S. representatives, governor, state representatives, state senators, mayor, county commissioners, school board members and on and on. Come November 2, that list will grow.
Through all the numerous ideas, encouragement, criticism and proposals from our politicians, Tech’s mission has never changed or wavered: “Because we respect students’ values and beliefs, Tech High School will provide a positive, comfortable, safe learning environment for all students.” We live this mission each day at Tech no matter what the outcome on those first Tuesdays in November.
P.S. About two weeks after Governor Ventura’s visit I received a photo of the Governor from the Governor’s Office in St. Paul. It was signed in gold marker: “To Roger, Gov Jesse Ventura.”
Out of the concern for adequate financial resources stem other issues such as student achievement, teacher accountability, Special Education funding, administrative “dead wood”, athletics…and the list grows. And to be fair, almost all candidates do seem genuinely concerned about our schools and feel that they have a better plan to improve them than their opponent. And they can get it done whereas their opponent(s) might not.
Throughout the twelve exciting years I have been the principal at Tech, a host of politicians have visited. Some have worn the dual hats of a politician as well as a relative of a Tech student. In addition to perhaps twenty various School Board members, here is a partial list: Bachmann, Knoblach, Clark, Haws, Seversen, Kleis, Gottwalt, Ventura. Some have met with me and our teachers. Others have addressed a Social Studies class or two. Perhaps the most memorable was the visit by Governor Jesse Ventura.
It was January of 2000. The Governor had been in office for a year, and I had been the principal of Tech for almost six months. I have forgotten why Tech was chosen by Ventura’s office as a site to visit, but I do remember how excited Tech and the entire District were.
My assistant principals and I met with the Governor’s advance team. Details like where he would be dropped off, who would greet him, how he would enter the gym, student behavior expectations, internal and external security, etc. were discussed ad infinitum. The Times ran an article about our media specialist who had been a classmate and acquaintance of the Governor at Roosevelt High School in Minneapolis. Excitement was running high.
Finally the big day arrived--I was dead tired. I had answered a security call at 3:00 AM. I met the police at Tech a short time later and got home around 4:00. I never did get back to sleep. But, tired or not, this was the Governor of Minnesota, and I had the responsibility to make sure everything went off without a hitch.
All 1800 students, cautioned to be on their best behavior, were waiting in the gym. I was first in the receiving line waiting to greet the Governor at Door 9, the entrance nearest to the gym. If my memory serves, others in the line were the superintendent, assistant superintendent, the media specialist who had some kind of poster from the old days at Roosevelt, several school board members and a few others.
The Governor was late. We were all waiting. I knew how unpredictable 1800 confined teenagers could be. It was my first year at Tech. I felt that if anything went wrong it would also be my last.
Finally, fifteen minutes late, a Minnesota Highway Patrol cruiser pulled up to the door. The back door swung open. Slouched in the back seat was the Governor, dressed in cowboy boots, faded blue jeans, t-shirt and an old brown sport coat. I heard him say to the trooper, “Well, I guess it’s time to wake up.” As he stepped out of the car, I grabbed his hand and welcomed him to St. Cloud and Tech High School. He then met the rest of the receiving line and walked into the gym amid the cheers of our students. No doubt, many of them saw not the Governor of Minnesota, but professional wrestler and celebrity--Jesse “The Body” Ventura.
It all went well. The Governor gave a seeming unprepared speech about the importance of student involvement in the political process and how important it was for them to vote as eighteen-year-olds. He was out the door and back in the cruiser in about an hour. (There was also something about working hard and that he had been a Navy Seal.)
I walked around the gym floor as students were being dismissed to their classes; several reporters were interviewing students. As I was about to leave, a reporter from Minnesota Public Radio asked if he could talk to me (he had a microphone and a recorder.) “So, Mr. Ziemann, what did you think of Governor Ventura’s message. “ I said I thought it was fine and that it was also important to Governor Ventura in light that that so many young voters had helped elect him.
During the past twelve years, we have had various individuals serve as U.S. presidents, U.S. senators, U.S. representatives, governor, state representatives, state senators, mayor, county commissioners, school board members and on and on. Come November 2, that list will grow.
Through all the numerous ideas, encouragement, criticism and proposals from our politicians, Tech’s mission has never changed or wavered: “Because we respect students’ values and beliefs, Tech High School will provide a positive, comfortable, safe learning environment for all students.” We live this mission each day at Tech no matter what the outcome on those first Tuesdays in November.
P.S. About two weeks after Governor Ventura’s visit I received a photo of the Governor from the Governor’s Office in St. Paul. It was signed in gold marker: “To Roger, Gov Jesse Ventura.”
Monday, July 26, 2010
Eternal Truths
“Mr. Smith fed his horse 4 qt. of oats three times a day. At 80 cents a bushel how much were the oats worth in a month of 30 days?”
This quote comes from a textbook I bought at a garage sale a few years ago. I have a small collection of old school texts. Some of them were my mother’s who taught grade school in the early 1940’s and then again in the 1960’s.
I have some of the original paper and hardcover Dick and Jane books from the 1950’s along with The Little White House from the 40’s, the Elson-Gray Basic Readers and Down the River Road from the 30’s, and some others.
The quote above comes from Hamilton’s Essentials of Arithmetic—Middle Grades and, as you might guess, it was published in the 1920’s (1927 to be exact). Of course, a Math textbook today for 5th and 6th graders would never have a word problem about how much oats a horse ate. In the first place, many kids today would not be sure what oats is (maybe they would know it had to do with Cheerios). They certainly would not understand why anybody would care or find it mildly interesting to determine how much a horse ate.
In 1927 it was a different story. A huge percentage of kids lived on farms and even those who lived in cities still depended on horses for almost all of their transportation needs outside of walking. The major nouns in the problem would have meaning: horse, oats, bushel. And, finding out how much your horse ate would be important.
Here are a few more problems that are almost quaint by our standards in 2010:
“A dealer buys 150 bales of hay, averaging 90 lb. to the bale. How many tons and pounds over does he buy?”
“Arthur’s pig when bought it weighed 73.4 lb. and cost $12. The cost of feeding was 10 cents for each pound gained. What was the total profit when the live pig sold at 15 cents a pound?”
“A girl in Idaho canned 532 qt. of vegetables at a cost of $313.56. Find the profit per bushel; the selling price per bushel.”
“How much will it cost to telegraph to the same place a night letter of 50 words, if the night rate for 50 words is the same as the day rate for 10 words?”
When I read see these problems, I visualize ten and eleven year-olds in knickerbockers and proper dresses squirming in their bolted down desks—those old ones with the ink wells. All the while, the coal stove is throwing out excess heat on a late November morning. It’s shocking to realize that those kids would now be 93 years old.
Most all of those students are gone and many of our kids wouldn’t know a telegraph pole or a bushel basket if they ran into one. However, even though the examples in the word problems have changed, my friends in Tech’s Math Department would be quick to point out that the concepts of the arithmetic and math in the text are timeless and eternal.
Beyond those concepts, we also know that the kids haven’t changed either. We know that today some kids still hate Math with a passion and would rather do almost anything than open their Math book and do the homework. I also know that at least one of the students who used Hamilton’s Essentials of Arithmetic in 1927 felt the same way
On the top page edge, written in bold, capital pencil letters is the word:
"P O I S O N."
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Old Kids
Over the past nearly 40 years, I have been either a teacher or principal in five different school districts. (I'm beginning my 12th year at Tech.) Doing the Math, I have interacted with approximately 30,000 students.
I began teaching when I was 21 years old. I still remember those first couple of years vividly and the students who were in my classes. I remember them as fresh faced 17 year olds and then have a sudden jolt of insight realizing that those 17 year olds are now grandparents only four years younger than me.
Once in a great while, one of those 30,000 show up in my life today. I either hear though a mutual acquaintance about them or, on occasion, contact is made directly. About three weeks ago, I got an email from a business manager here in St. Cloud via email: "Are you the Roger Ziemann who taught English in Lewiston, Minnesota?"
Now, my life is really a pretty open book, but I still cast my mind back 22 years and did a quick scan of my life there. Nope, nothing negative came up--so I emailed him back. "Yes." He then emailed me that he was in my Expository Writing class and wondered if I was willing to have a cup of coffee with a former student. Of course, I agreed and am looking forward to reminiscing at Starbuck's.
And, there have been other times throughout my long career that a former student has written an email or letter. It is usually a student who I would never have thought of again. Just a regular great former kid who has blended into the other 29,999 faces. A kid who learned about Hemingway, subject and verb agreement, topic sentences and some nuance of “The Tell Tale Heart."
As the song goes, those were days that "I wore a younger man's clothes." Days of buying my first house, the births of my two children and voting in my first national election. Those were still heady times for me when I was sure that my wit and wisdom were going to change the landscape of not just education but the socio-academic world. I was the very best in the nation at what I did and, in only a short time, President Carter, Paul McCartney or John Updike would call and ask me to help them change the world...they never called.
Instead, I occasionally hear from an old student . . . it is enough to have made all the years worthwhile.
I began teaching when I was 21 years old. I still remember those first couple of years vividly and the students who were in my classes. I remember them as fresh faced 17 year olds and then have a sudden jolt of insight realizing that those 17 year olds are now grandparents only four years younger than me.
Once in a great while, one of those 30,000 show up in my life today. I either hear though a mutual acquaintance about them or, on occasion, contact is made directly. About three weeks ago, I got an email from a business manager here in St. Cloud via email: "Are you the Roger Ziemann who taught English in Lewiston, Minnesota?"
Now, my life is really a pretty open book, but I still cast my mind back 22 years and did a quick scan of my life there. Nope, nothing negative came up--so I emailed him back. "Yes." He then emailed me that he was in my Expository Writing class and wondered if I was willing to have a cup of coffee with a former student. Of course, I agreed and am looking forward to reminiscing at Starbuck's.
And, there have been other times throughout my long career that a former student has written an email or letter. It is usually a student who I would never have thought of again. Just a regular great former kid who has blended into the other 29,999 faces. A kid who learned about Hemingway, subject and verb agreement, topic sentences and some nuance of “The Tell Tale Heart."
As the song goes, those were days that "I wore a younger man's clothes." Days of buying my first house, the births of my two children and voting in my first national election. Those were still heady times for me when I was sure that my wit and wisdom were going to change the landscape of not just education but the socio-academic world. I was the very best in the nation at what I did and, in only a short time, President Carter, Paul McCartney or John Updike would call and ask me to help them change the world...they never called.
Instead, I occasionally hear from an old student . . . it is enough to have made all the years worthwhile.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Children
My 31 year old son now lives six hours away in Iowa City and next summer will be moving to San Francisco. Of course, I remember lots of things about him as a young boy, but two keep coming back to me often.
First thing, we went to his first Twins game at the Metrodome when he was about seven or eight years old. We were in center field right behind Kirby Pucket (who was a true Minnesota hero back then). My son looked around the Dome and watched the warm-ups with Kirby fielding long drives into center. Adam watched for a while and then said, "Dad, those players should have to pay just to play here."
Second thing, we went fishing pretty often when he was a boy. Again, he was about seven or eight. I was grumbling that we were not catching many fish. He said, "Dad, going fishing is not about catching fish."
I'm sure that if you are a parent, you also have memories of your child saying something that was meaningful to you then and now--many years later. It was something that never would have happened if you weren't with him or her and the circumstances where not perfect.
You know what I'm getting at: you have to be with your kids for these moments and comments to happen. You have to work at being together. As a friend of mine used to say to her husband: "Let's go somewhere with Bill tomorrow and make a memory."
I was lucky enough to have another chance this past weekend. But this time, it was with my step-son. He had wanted to go ice fishing for a couple of years, and finally we decided on a weekend and went to Mille Lacs. We rented a fish house for two nights and came back about noon on Sunday.
Of course, the fish weren't biting (we caught a few perch). We played hours of Monopoly, cards and checkers. We ran up to the casino one night and had the seafood buffet. When we got back to our fish house, we stopped and looked up at the sky.
It was clear and moonless. You could touch the stars. The handle of the Big Dipper hung straight down and a ways to the right the belt of Orion was a mass of diamonds. We turned to each other and, almost at the same time said: "This made the trip worthwhile."
"Dad, going fishing is not about catching fish."
Have a good week with your children.
First thing, we went to his first Twins game at the Metrodome when he was about seven or eight years old. We were in center field right behind Kirby Pucket (who was a true Minnesota hero back then). My son looked around the Dome and watched the warm-ups with Kirby fielding long drives into center. Adam watched for a while and then said, "Dad, those players should have to pay just to play here."
Second thing, we went fishing pretty often when he was a boy. Again, he was about seven or eight. I was grumbling that we were not catching many fish. He said, "Dad, going fishing is not about catching fish."
I'm sure that if you are a parent, you also have memories of your child saying something that was meaningful to you then and now--many years later. It was something that never would have happened if you weren't with him or her and the circumstances where not perfect.
You know what I'm getting at: you have to be with your kids for these moments and comments to happen. You have to work at being together. As a friend of mine used to say to her husband: "Let's go somewhere with Bill tomorrow and make a memory."
I was lucky enough to have another chance this past weekend. But this time, it was with my step-son. He had wanted to go ice fishing for a couple of years, and finally we decided on a weekend and went to Mille Lacs. We rented a fish house for two nights and came back about noon on Sunday.
Of course, the fish weren't biting (we caught a few perch). We played hours of Monopoly, cards and checkers. We ran up to the casino one night and had the seafood buffet. When we got back to our fish house, we stopped and looked up at the sky.
It was clear and moonless. You could touch the stars. The handle of the Big Dipper hung straight down and a ways to the right the belt of Orion was a mass of diamonds. We turned to each other and, almost at the same time said: "This made the trip worthwhile."
"Dad, going fishing is not about catching fish."
Have a good week with your children.
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