NRHEG juniors take first in sub-section

SAILING TO SECTION — The Panthers’ T.J. Schiltz clears the high jump bar during the Sub-Section 5A track and field meet in New Richland Tuesday, May 21. Schiltz advanced to section in the high jump along with his specialties, the 3200 and 1600. Junior Raece Johnson was finished first in the 400. (Star Eagle photo by Chris Schlaak)

By JIM LUTGENS

Editor/Publisher

T.J. Schiltz found himself in familiar territory, with a gold medal hanging around his neck.

For Raece Johnson, it was uncharted terrain.

Schiltz, NRHEG’s distance running standout, was no surprise to win the 3200 meters in the Sub-Section 5A meet at New Richland Tuesday, May 21.

The surprise came when Johnson, also a junior, did the same thing, clocking a career-best 54.14 seconds to win the 400.

They’re two of four Panther boys to advance to section, joining Keith Maxon and Nick Goette.

NRHEG track girls third in sub-section meet

HOME STRETCHING — The Panthers’ Carlie Wagner, right, battles Waseca’s Samantha Hiller near the finish line of the 4x200-meter relay last Thursday in New Richland. Wagner and the Panthers finished first in the event. (Star Eagle photo by Chris Schlaak)

By JIM LUTGENS

Editor/Publisher

Coach Duey Ferber called it a “nice” meet for the NRHEG girls’ track and field team.

Not terrific, not terrible. Nice.

The Panthers finished third in the Sub-Section 5A meet at New Richland Tuesday, May 21, qualifying seven individuals for section.

“We would have liked to get a few more through to sections,” said Ferber. “We had a nice meet.”

Softball Panthers ousted in first round of tourney

By JIM LUTGENS

Editor/Publisher

The old adage, “It’s tough to beat a good team three times in one season,” rang all too true for the NRHEG High School softball team.

The Panthers, who defeated Bethlehem Academy twice by one run in the regular season, saw their season end abruptly with a 5-4 loss to the Cardinals in the opening round of sub-section play Tuesday, May 21 at New Richland’s Legion Field.

“We knew this was going to be a close game,” said NRHEG coach Wendy Schultz.

And it was. The line score for both teams was nearly identical except for the one that counts most: the final score.

18 Panthers to shoot in state meet June 7-9

Putting together their best week of competition this year, the NRHEG Clay Target team took a total of 18 of 21 points to finish out the spring season.

The scores were strong from top to bottom with most of the shooters either matching or beating their season average. While it was not enough to erase the lead that the Brainerd team had, it was more than enough to solidify the team's runner-up position after passing Woodbury last week.

For week 5, the team was led by Kyle Bartz with a 47/50. This earned the team 5 of its 18 points, but the strength of a team comes in the averages for the top 50% of shooters and the total team average.

The last of the Mrs. Anderson stories continues this week. We leave off with what she taught her 4th-grade class about Sgt. York as a Medal of Honor winner in WWI. He received the Medal of Honor for killing 28 Germans and taking 132 prisoners.

Jim continues...

“On our trip to France, we stopped at the Meuse-Argonne area, a place I hadn’t been to before. I looked over Google Earth to find some likely-looking spots.

We found a number of artifacts out in the woods, including live artillery shells and grenades. When we stopped for fuel, a friendly Frenchman said, "We don't see many Americans anymore." He also asked if we were going to visit the site where Sgt. York won his Medal of Honor. 

We hadn’t planned on it, but our group had become ardent artifact hunters. So, we drove through a small town, and found an area adjacent where the French military (not the U.S.) maintains a rough trail. Unable to drive the trail due to the wet conditions, we walked a bit until we found a marker that identified the approximate spot where he captured the large haul of prisoners. 

This really was not the spot, according to my reading of his account. I knew that York had been higher on the hill, an area too steep to construct a road.

We went up the hill and it didn’t take long to find the remnants of a German trench. Unlike the British, French or Americans, the Germans were fighting a defensive war. Doing so, they built fortifications of concrete to prevent being pushed out, and augmented them with machine guns.

We fanned out to search for artifacts, however no digging took place in the forest carpet of leaves, as you don’t know what lies below. 

In only a few minutes, Victor Mrotz yelled, ‘Over here! What’s this?’ At the base of a tree were a dozen German Potato masher hand grenades. This was a full box just left there almost 100 years ago.

We kept our distance and photographed them. The wooden handles had long-since rotted away, but the priming fuse holes had blue corrosion around them. They were live!  We carefully probed with our fingers, and came up with empty brass shells and two live 8mm machine gun shells!

Then the marker on the road below indicated that near here was where Sgt. York captured his prisoners. The German trenches, grenades, machine gun bullets, plus the fact that York’s account mentions capturing a machine gun strong point, and I would say the probability was high that this is where Sgt. York captured his prisoners!

After returning home, I tried to identify the German grenades. They had wooden inserts in the grenade. Prior to 1916, they were filled with black powder and after the introduction of high explosives, they proved too powerful and a hazard to the thrower.

The German’s put a wooden spacer in the grenade so they contained less of the new high-explosive powder and handled like the old ones. The cases were also stamped metal, an indication that they were produced in 1917 or 1918. Again, this is the correct time period of when York won his medal.

Areas of Europe are still filled with the debris of war. Yes, we have had battles here on our continent. There are battles that secured this land for us, the internal battle of the north and south, but nothing is like the widespread destruction seen in Europe.

Did you know that there is land that no one farms in Europe because it is so full of unexploded ordinance? During WWI, in the valley of France’s Somme River, a million artillery shells a week traded sides.

Due to the swampy ground and the old black powder, about 15 percent of the shells didn’t explode. Almost 100 years later, there are still an estimated 1.5 million unexploded shells in the ground. 

Because the land is still so contaminated, it is often not always worth the time and effort or the risk to remove them. The theoretical life of gunpowder is 885 years, but the real worry today is poison gas shells. The shells are starting to corrode.

In the spring, farmers in our own area often pick up the rocks that are in their way or a detriment to their crops, and pile them beside the field. In the war-torn areas of Europe, the unexploded shells are called the Iron Harvest as the shells work their way to the top.

The farmers pile the shells along the edge of their fields, serving as grim reminders of the cost of wars. The French military makes the rounds on country roads every couple of weeks, and take the shells for demolition. Twenty years ago, about 30 farmers a year were killed.

Today, it is only about a dozen. And you thought farming was hazardous here!

Some areas grow up into small forests because the area was so bad it isn't worth the time, effort or danger of trying to clear the land. The land is still hillocky with craters from the explosions; hardly a square yard was untouched. The trees grew up in the unfarmed soil too. 

Every village was destroyed. Not a wall is left standing after an artillery barrage of up to 60,000 shells per day. Some were rebuilt. Some never were. 

Over 500,000 pounds of live ammunition is disposed of every year, ammunition that was buried with the people who died there and were all too often buried in the trenches they died in. 

The scars of war are everywhere. In the springtime, when the fields are bare, white areas of the chalk underlying the soil are visible. There are shell impacts, or trenches dug to avoid the rain of steel.

It isn’t only artillery shells that are unearthed. Hand grenades are in abundance, and more personal items like water bottles, bayonets, entrenching tools, and mess kits are found, which doesn’t bode well for what happened to their erstwhile owners.

The artillery was so vicious that about a quarter of a million soldiers have no known grave. They were simply blown to bits. The British forces lost 58,000 men on the Somme alone on the first day! They maintain the cemeteries very well and have constructed huge monuments that list the names of all of the missing.

What isn’t listed is the impact on families and the countries. Almost a quarter of an entire generation of men were casualties, and even higher percentages from places like Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa.”

A detective story concluded 57 years after first heard from his 4th-grade teacher, 4500 miles away!  Who knows what effect each of us has on others?

Birthdays and anniversaries:

• Thursday, May 30th: Payton Allen Misgen, Daniel Larson, Molly Hanson, Chuck Crabtree, Shirley Nelson, Julie & Toby Oquist.

• Friday, May 31st: Nathan Jensen, Jerry White, Pat Draayer, Ryan Sletten, Jim Hamor, Robert DuBois, Cierra Hanson.

• Saturday, June 1st: Carter Anthony Martens, Randy Hagen, Brandi Hagen, John Hanson, Bert Wiersma, Phyllis Benson, Joe Wallace, Julie Dulas, Kenny Toft, Maria Misgen, Tony Sommers, Bob Flim, Glenn Gerdes, Lindsey Lembke, Denise Evenson Wilson, Jeff & Sharon Lageson, Orville & Mavis Langlie.

• Sunday, June 2nd: Maia Kathleen Peterson, Brent Dobberstein, Angie Goodnature Kath, Taylor Draayer, Sue Jensen Kuckenbecker, Steve Kasper, Cindy Olson, Barry Esplan, Krystle Lonning, Donald Haberman, Ahston Haried, Trent Hanson, Brandon McLaughlin, Tammy & Garth Gonnering, Greg & Nicole Shultz, Eric & Snow Lee, their 6th.

• Monday, June 3rd: Isabella Grace Kohn, her 3rd; Devin Matthew Haddy, his 6th; Justin Stieglbauer, David Hall, Troy Vavra, Jason Jenkins, Michael Bartness, Angie Kasper Christenson, George Kasper, Chrisopher Conley, Max Miller, Esther Van Ravenhorst, Misty (Ebnet) & Jeremy Krueger, Eric & Christine Nelson.

• Tuesday, June 4th: Dale Miller, Becky Nordland, Jim Borchert, Judith Severson, Warren Nelson, Jamie & Tina Hagen, Art & Doris DeNeui, Jan & Andrew Bernau, their 6th.

• Wednesday, June 5th: Beulah Crabtree, Marcia Vermedahl, Shawn Johnson, Paul Krull, David Reistad, Mike Rossing, Lisa Jensen Nord, Jack Butler, Greg Oswald, Michael Schmidt, Ron & Jolee Johnson, Stacy (Osmundson) & Trevor Titus, Erica (Van Kampen) & Jacob McClaskey, Elzo & Joy Peterson.

May you find joy and pleasure all around you on your special day.

While I was visiting the Park Rapids area a couple of weeks ago, I was impressed by the beautiful countryside with its many lakes and streams. It had been many years since I had visited that area with my uncle Ben and Sam, his neighbor and brother-in-law. We would go to Toad Lake which is located near Osage, Minnesota which is west of Park Rapids. I have many fond memories of that lake, and if memory serves me right the fishing was always great. When I think of Toad Lake I think of good walleye fishing and the times spent there with Uncle Ben.

I can still remember the time when my Uncle Ben and I were fishing near some pencil reeds on Toad Lake and were catching the biggest bluegills I had ever seen. Now remembering things that happened as a kid could tend to get distorted, but I’ve always remembered those fish as real slabs. The big “gills” started biting just before an oncoming thunderstorm and as the storm approached Uncle Ben fired up the old 5-horse Johnson outboard and we headed for the resort. As the wind picked up it started to get very rough, so he had me sit on the floor of the boat as that little motor trudged its way to the dock and safety. I can’t remember how many times over the years I have experienced a fish feeding frenzy just before a storm as the barometer begins to fall.

When I first arrived in Park Rapids for the opener I found that the area was a little more like a rolling prairie with hills, woods, streams and lakes. It didn’t take long to realize what a marvelous resource this area is for the state of Minnesota.

Itasca State park is where the “Mighty Mississippi” begins its journey to the Gulf of Mexico. If you have never been to or taken your kids to the headwaters of this great river, you owe it to yourself and your kids so that they can experience walking across that great river. Itasca State Park is not only Minnesota's first state park; it is the only major park available at the source of one of the world's four greatest rivers — the Amazon, the Nile, the Yangtze and the Mississippi. At Lake Itasca, 500,000 visitors a year walk across the Mississippi headwaters and imagine how this tiny stream becomes miles wide as it enters the Gulf of Mexico 2,552 miles downstream.

The Park Rapids area is dynamically diverse in the variety of species of fish available to anglers. This includes walleye, northern pike, muskellunge, largemouth and smallmouth bass, crappies, bluegill, perch, brown, brook and rainbow trout, rock bass, tullibee and even a species that locals call, "the mermaid of Minnesota."

If you've never heard of a silver pike, you might just be lucky enough to catch one and subsequently photograph and release the unique fish. Essentially, a silver pike has a body identical to a typical northern pike. The identifying difference is that silver pike do not have a green body spattered with white lines and spots. Instead, the uncommon fish is covered in silver scales outlined in gold. Silver pike are truly magnificent.

If it's trout you're after, a handful of lakes offer rainbow trout, some of which can grow quite large. Brook trout are available on some small streams, but the wild brown trout inhabiting the cut-banks and eddies of the Straight River are really what get trout enthusiasts excited about Park Rapids. An intensive habitat rehabilitation project that utilized helicopters to drop massive pine trees along the bank of the river, ultimately redirecting current flow to establish deeper channels. This project, the first of its kind in the state, took place in 2006 and 2007. Most fish species can be found in the majority of local lakes, which range in size from a couple hundred acres up to about 2,500 acres. Numerous bodies are part of lake chains, so anglers can navigate from lake to lake via watercraft. Yet those hidden waters deep in the forest that require a portage or angling means such as canoes or float tubes are equally exciting to explore. Water clarity on the lakes in the Park Rapids area can exceed 20 feet, pairing pristine water among the pines.

This is truly a beautiful area and one that I plan on visiting again in the near future. If you’re planning on taking a summer vacation I would highly recommend giving the Park Rapids area a try, I’m sure you will enjoy it.

 — — —

On a local note, the rains have caused the streams and lakes to rise and those waters are starting to return to their normal levels. This is something I didn’t think would ever happen after seeing all of the dried-up waters last fall. The rising waters are helping the fishing in the area.

Until next time take advantage of the good fishing on our area waters.

Please remember to keep our troops in your thoughts and prayers because they are the reason we are able to enjoy all the freedoms that we have today.

Editor’s note: Jon Laging is taking a break from his sports column to write a book about his home town, Mountain Lake, Minn. Upcoming columns will be excerpts from the book until further notice.

The incident had its beginning in the spring of 1950. That May was extremely warm in Minnesota. The classrooms were hot and there was no relief to be had. Air conditioning was in its infancy and only found in large city movie theaters.

Perhaps the warmth was the reason squirt guns became so popular, especially among us 13-year-old boys. However, there was another reason for their popularity. When we were younger there was only one type of water gun, a black metal gun that held only a single load of water and, after one squirt, you were pretty much done.

Then came a technology breakthrough. A plastic squirt gun that held water in the barrel and handle of the gun. It not only held much more water, the stream it ejected was longer and more forceful. Soon, almost all boys, teenagers and younger, had bought out the Ben Franklin Variety Store of its stock of squirt guns.

Squirt gun fights were very common and there was conflict between the contestants and the teachers and most squirt guns came to reside in teachers’ desks. The water fights then took a different direction and, as with all standoffs, there came into being new and improved weapons. Water balloons made their appearance.

Our junior high building had second-floor windows above the entrance. These windows could be opened wide during hot weather and a guy could lean out of the window and drop his water balloon on another unsuspecting seventh-grade boy. We didn’t bomb the girls. I don’t think it was chivalry, rather we knew we would really get in trouble if we got the girls wet.

This water ballooning didn’t last long when the school clamped down. And soon it was time for class picnics at the Mountain where we played tag and softball and competed to see who could drink the most Dad’s Old-Fashioned Root Beer.

Summer came and while all the summer activities were fun, there was something missing. Water balloons! Good friend Roger and I were talking about the balloons and bemoaning the fact there was really no good place to ambush some poor unsuspecting friend. Then the Hotel Basinger came to mind. We had been on the roof once before and thought it had it all over the second floor junior high building. What a great place to drop a balloon.

We filled a couple of balloons with water and made our way to the top of the hotel. We looked over the side of the building and you know, what doesn’t seem very high when you’re on the ground looking up, seems a lot higher when you’re up there. We test-fired one balloon by dropping it four stories. The test went just fine. However, it seemed a shame to waste our other balloon on the sidewalk. We waited for a target.

It was Saturday night, date night. Soon came Bertram (Jumbo) Jakes with his date. Jumbo was captain of the football team, weighed about 230 and when angry, dominated a football field. He was a man among boys and groomed to look it. Bertram and his date stopped on their way to Bill’s Café to talk with some of his teammates. Jumbo was probably explaining how he was going to win the next football game. His friends were listening intently, as was his girl.

As luck would have it, he was directly beneath us. Roger and I looked at each other and there was some hesitation, but we had talked a good game to each other for days and come too far to back down. We dropped the balloon. It was an amazing sight. One moment Jumbo was dry, the next he was sopping wet. His girlfriend screamed and his friends’ mouths dropped open as they stared with wonder at Jumbo. After a few seconds, they all looked up at the hotel and saw us.

Next week: did we escape the wrath of Jumbo?

Echoes from the Loafers Club Meeting

"This nice weather brings fond memories of the time I ran that marathon."

"I remember that. You ran only 50 yards."

"I know, but I made good time."

Driving by the Bruces

I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: What would archaeologists discover if they made the area behind the cushions of your couch the site of a dig?

I’ve learned

That after the Oklahoma tornado, I'll never complain about our weather again.

The breakfast sandwich is the most important sandwich of the day.

Gas prices go up when the grass grows tall.

Ask Al

"Why do you stay in Hartland?" To see what happens next.

"Why?" Why not?

"Why did your wife marry a man so much taller than she is?" It’s good for her posture.

"Have you always been funny?" The day I was born, people laughed.

"When did you start to travel?" I began traveling when a neighbor told me to get off his lawn.

Have you ever wondered?

What age we are when we find it necessary to lick a thumb or forefinger in order to turn the pages of a book or magazine? A dampened digit does come in handy. I know that if my finger is wet, I am turning the page forward. If my thumb is wet, I am paging backward to check on something I’d read or missed.

Fattigmann forever

While visiting with a couple of my wife's relatives from Norway, I learned more about fattigmann — a type of Norwegian fried-dough cookie. I’ve eaten the stuff, but knew nothing more about it other than I liked it. Fattigmann is eaten in the areas of North America where Scandinavians settled. The dough is made from egg yolks, egg whites, sugar, cream, brandy (optional), cinnamon, cardamom, and flour. Vanilla and other things can be a part. Fattigmann means "poor man." It's from the ingredients that it gets its name. The joke is that fattigmann was so expensive to make, that making it would leave you a poor man.

The Lewis, Clark, and Batt Expedition

Lewis and Clark had a supply list that included 25 hatchets, 10.5 pounds of fishing hooks and lines, 12 pounds of soap, 3 bushels of salt, 45 flannel shirts, 15 pairs of wool overalls, 176 pounds of gunpowder, 130 rolls of tobacco, 4,600 sewing needles, a microscope, a telescope, 2 sextants, 15 .54-caliber rifles, and 600 of Dr. Rush's patented "Thunderclapper" pills — a laxative made from mercury and jalapeños. All this and more went into three boats.

Had it been the Lewis, Clark, and Batt Expedition, Watkins Petro-Carbo Salve would have been on each boat. It was first aid in a round, red tin. We applied it to cuts, burns, scrapes, bites, and wounds of undetermined origin. It has been known by many names — black salve, carbolic salve, black ointment, udder balm, drawing salve, bag balm, and cow salve. I’ve heard it called "doorknob salve" because it was so good it would grow hair on a doorknob. Or maybe it was because it could be put on the doorknob to keep the kids out.

Watkins, located in Winona, introduced this product in 1888. The active ingredient is phenol (carbolic acid). It’s no longer black in color, but the nostalgic aroma remains just as it was. Its unique odor derives from botanicals such as camphor, oil of spruce, and cajeput oil (a tea tree relative). It was used on everything from skinned knees to burns and boils. If what I had couldn’t be cured with this salve, I was in serious trouble.

Once upon a time, I could tell a rich farmer from a poor farmer. The rich farmer kept a can of Watkins Petro-Carbo Salve in the house for his family and another one in the barn for the cattle. The poor farmer carried his one tin back and forth between the house and the barn.

Nature notes

Shakespeare wrote, "Like to the lark at break of day arising from sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate." Larks are grassland birds. Lacking the use of trees, the lark sings melodiously on wing. We have but one species of the classical lark here--the horned lark. The eastern and western meadowlarks are members of the blackbird family. I see meadowlarks singing while perched upon posts; their breasts highlighted by the sun in such a way that it appears the birds are wearing cardigan sweaters.

Meeting adjourned

Without kindness, life is a suitcase with no handle.

The scurs’ hot streak continued last week although judging by the hate mail they received, they’d rather it didn’t. Will Shelley deliver more this week? Starting Wednesday, mostly cloudy with a good chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the upper 70s and lows in the mid 60s. Mostly cloudy on Thursday with a better chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs again in the upper 70s and lows in the mid 60s. Mostly cloudy and slightly cooler overnight on Friday with a remaining good chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the low 70s and lows near 60. Partly cloudy on Saturday with a slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the low 70s and lows in the mid 50s. Finally, mostly sunny on Sunday with highs in the low 70s with highs in the low to mid 50s. Monday, mostly sunny with highs in the mid 70s and lows in the low 60s. Tuesday, chances of rain again with highs in the low 70s and lows in the low 50s. The normal high for May 31 is 74 and the normal low is 53. Our daily gains in daylight are slowing as we move into June to about a minute per day. The Acme do-it-yourself ark kit the scurs ordered has been backordered.

Another disappointing week for fieldwork with some getting out to attempt to make something happen on Friday only to plug planters, get equipment stuck and then get rained out before dark. It has been frustrating to say the least. About one more week and corn planting will be over for all practical purposes. Then the decision will have to be made whether to take the insurance money, depending on the coverage, or take the risk to plant soybeans. Some will not have that option with chemicals already applied to some fields that would preclude that. We’ve had a pretty good run though with ’93 being about the last time we had widespread planting difficulties. It’s not the first time something like this has happened and probably won’t be the last. The corn that has emerged is peeked as are the soybeans that are up. Yet further evidence we need sunshine and warm temperatures.

Can’t plant the garden, and I’m out of trees to plant or places to put them. When you’re dealt lemons, make lemonade. Making a batch of rhubarb sauce Sunday was an easy way to make use of what we do have. It’s so simple yet such a tasty spring staple. The plants have really become huge with seed heads coming already on the green variety and a few even showing on the red plants. There really is no difference in the flavor although the natural red color of the sauce makes it look more appealing, one reason some recipes call for the addition of red food color when using the green variety. Up next: Rhubarb pie!

Watching the birds and peeking in their houses has made for an interesting diversion as well. Always curious to see who is where and how many. It too has not been without some disappointment. The wood duck nesting box that housed the kestrels remains unoccupied. Makes me wonder if something happened to them or more positively, if they found a better location. The house sparrows seem to have become emboldened in their absence, showcased by the remains of the tree swallows they’ve pecked to death in some nesting boxes. It irritated me to find they’d moved in on houses that had produced tree swallows for over a decade without incident. The house sparrows promptly made it onto the same list as the skunks. Obviously they have not seen Clint Eastwood in “Unforgiven.”

On a more pleasant note, there is a chickadee nest in the nesting box on the edge of the yard. Was looking to see what kinds of nests we had on Saturday and found one box that was full of moss, lichens, and other odd looking nesting material. Having seen a photo someone had posted on an outdoor forum I frequent, that was my first thought. There had been a pair of chickadees hanging around and recently there has only been one seen at a time. Sunday during the nasty weather I spotted both again and watched as one of them made its way back to the bluebird house in question and went in.

Sunday was one of those days too, to catch up on how many birds were there during the week. Otherwise the only snapshot I get of who’s emptying the feeders is if I go home to make a sandwich and let the dogs run briefly. The jelly consumption had spiked, making me wonder if some of the house finches and chickadees seen helping themselves were responsible. Nope, it was a horde of orioles instead. There had been 6–8 at times but when I looked out and lost count at 16, that was pretty self-explanatory. They have also become rather brazen and seem to have lost their fear of me. Their jelly feeder was empty so I decided to fill it. One colorful Baltimore male got within about 3’ of me so I extended the jelly spoon towards him and rested it on a twig. Hesitant at first, he greedily cleaned up the remaining jelly in the spoon. Cross that off my bucket list.

The soccer mom van remains the gift that keeps on giving.  Saturday was time again to make one of those trips to the store where you go the bathroom in the big orange silo. The van sleeps outside but it didn’t hesitate one iota, making the journey to Owatonna without skipping a beat. It wasn’t raining, it started, the heater worked and the van didn’t even pee on my foot like it sometimes does. For some odd reason after a rain, water collects somewhere up under the hood. Upon affixing my soccer mom driving wig, placing the van in reverse and backing up, water can be heard running. If you look down at your left foot, you suddenly discover where. Our Border Collie Gus also used to do the same thing when he was happy to see you so I’ve always figured the soccer mom van was just glad to be going somewhere.

Once inside the store it began to rain outside, again. After running through checkout I made my way back to the van and loaded my supplies. Wig in place, I fired it up, put it in reverse and sure enough the sound of running water could mean only one thing: my left foot was wet! That and turning the windshield wipers on, the wiper blades were in tatters. It was my lucky day though. Went back inside and Don helped me find the right wiper blades, the ones that didn’t cost me more than the van was worth. Thanks Don!

See you next week…real good then.

Memorial Day was first established after the Civil War to remember our fallen soldiers. Many people fail to remember this during the three day weekend and merely use the time to party, go camping, and grill meat.

While our family always takes some time to think about the men and women who have given their lives for our country, we also think back at this time of year to Michelle’s dad, Mike Granowski, who passed away May 31, 2001.

Michelle was pregnant with Jayna at the time, and so our kids never got to meet their maternal grandfather. I only knew him for less than five years, but Mike made a great impact on my life.

There are so many stereotypical exaggerations about how terrible in-laws are, but Mike and his wife Mary were always nothing but wonderful to me, the man who dared to fall in love with their daughter. Somehow, I always found Mike intimidating, even though he never took me on a tour of his gun collection or some other threatening procedure.

Maybe all young men should find their girlfriend/wife’s father intimidating, at least out of respect. Brad Paisley sings the song, “Two People Fell in Love,” about how we have so much to be thankful for because our parents and the parents of those closest to us fell in love. This is so true, and we don’t always think about that until we lose one of those people who initially fell in love.

Mike was always so generous with everyone. He worked with cars all his life and finished as a car salesman. There too, he didn’t fit the negative stereotype we sometimes have of that occupation. I had only been dating Michelle about four months when I was looking for a used car. He pointed me in the direction of a Grand Prix he had and then opened his books to show me just how much he had paid for it. I only had to give him an extra $200 and it was mine. That car served us well for many years.

Mike would help anybody who needed it or asked for it any time. When he was struck with cancer, he found that reciprocated with all the people who helped him and the family during that trying period. We knew earlier in 2001 that his condition was terminal, and the great help given by so many made those last couple of months easier to bear. I firmly believe this is because of all the good Mike had done throughout his life.

His sense of humor was one of his great qualities. Mike always had a joke or a prank, and I can’t remember many times I saw him without a smile. Even during his last months on earth, he was smiling. That must be the hardest thing to do: you know your death is imminent, but you maintain a positive attitude.

It’s been twelve years, but it doesn’t get any easier. Michelle takes a lot of time to talk to Jayna and Anton about Grandpa Mike and to show them pictures so they can “know” him. In fact, a teddy bear that was his still lingers around our house.

s we paused this past Monday to remember fallen soldiers, I can’t help but think that Mike was visiting in Heaven with some of his compatriots from the Vietnam War, a conflict in which he served his country well.

Mary has remarried, and her husband has been a great grandpa to the kids. We’re thankful for this; it means that our kids have two grandpas on Michelle’s side.

Word of the Week: This week’s word is logolepsy, which means an obsession with words, as in, “The readers wondered if the columnist’s logolepsy would ever run dry or if he would always have some new obscure word for them every week.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!