Remembering Rose Helin

 One year ago today, Rose Helin passed away. I thought I'd mark this sad anniversary by sharing a memory of her - something that I'll try to do every year. I first met Rose in August of 2001. I had just moved to the Twin Ports a few months before, and was hosting a film showing at my house. I think it was the Greening of the Cuban Revolution? Anyway, I remember sitting on the front steps half hour before hand with my friends Rob & Monica, when Rose's mom dropped her off. Without saying a word, Rose walked right past us, went into the house and sat in the dark, empty living room waiting for the event to start. I don't remember her saying anything that night, other than maybe answering some small talk questions. But the next day I got an email from her, asking to meet up to talk about the film. We agreed to go for a walk. When I pulled up to her house, she walked out wearing a Gilligan's hat and sun glasses, got into my car, and then immediately proceeded to bombard me with hours worth of questions, comments and witty insights about Cuba, feminism, pop culture, the Russian Revolution, Trotsky's Theory of Permanent Revolution, you name it. Her brain was amazing, and her curiosity was limitless! That first walk lasted all afternoon, and ended up somehow involving breaking into an abandoned house and climbing up on the railing of a railroad bridge (well, Rose did at least, I stood back from a safe distance and admired her bravery and sense of adventure). What a spot on introduction to Rose! There will never be another quite like her. You are missed, Rose.  ~October 10, 2024

The Passing of Carl Oliver Lemke Sack

The body of my dear friend and comrade breathed its last breath today. I have had a very hard time finding words that are worthy of describing this human. But everything will be harder now without Carl. While I know that he was a fan of the Joe Hill slogan, “don’t mourn, organize!”, how can you not mourn someone like Carl? I have never known a finer human being. He was a seemingly tireless activist – whose energy and passion benefited so many worthy causes – from the anti-war to the labor to the environmental movements. But he was far more than just an amazing activist – he was a truly amazing human being. Carl was the kind of friend who was always there for you. Always, and I mean always. No. Matter. What. He was thoughtful, generous, patient and kind. No matter if you agreed with him or not, you could always count of him having the best of intentions. I don’t know how he did that. I don’t know how one can be the way that Carl always was. He was so special, so kind, and so unique. But if we were all just a little bit more like Carl, then what a better world this would surely be. And that, I think, is probably the best we can strive for now – to try to make the world a better place by all being at least a little bit more like Carl. Good bye friend.  ~ May 2, 2024

I can read books again!

 It’s a Monday, but I’m grinning from ear to ear. Why? Because I read a book this weekend – from cover to cover. And that’s a big deal, because it’s the first time in five years that I’ve been able to do that! [be warned, what follows is a sappy, self-indulgent PSA] And why has it been so long since I’ve read a book, you ask? It’s not that I don’t love to read. Heck, there’s over 2,000 books in my house! It’s because for a long while I lost the ability to do so. These past couple of years I’ve been wrestling with substantial memory loss, extreme difficulty in concentrating and feeling like I’m in a constant fog. During that time, I knew I had a snoring problem, but I didn’t realize it was anything more than making some embarrassing noises while I slept. I did not realize it was connected to my cognitive decline. It turns out I have a severe case of sleep apnea. And my ignorance about sleep apnea was compounded by my tendency to not ever want to go to the doctor. Waiting years to do anything about this ended up leading to brain damage – because every night my brain was getting starved of oxygen (plus I was waking up a 100 times an hour, which causes its own set of problems). Thanks to the marvels of modern medicine, and the amazing folks at the local Sleep Lab, things are no longer as bad as they were. The C-Pap machine that I now wear every night keeps my brain oxygenated, and this has led to a lot of improvement. The doc says you generally see the improvement you’re going to see in the first year. I’m a year and a half in, and my recovery has definitely plateaued. And in some ways that really sucks. It feels like someone turned the nob down on my brain. But at least things are much better than they were. And hey, I can read a book again, and that is a big deal. So take those snoring problems seriously kids, breathe in as much sweet oxygen as you can, and never take for granted the exhilerating pleasure of reading a book! #sleepapneasucks #booksrule

 

Farmers and Dimes

Family farmers, precariously balanced on the side of a dime . . .

Days are long, filled with hard work;

while the fields are tilled by kin, both young and old;

and the land is nurtured, cherished and saddled with debt.

 

Family farmers, precariously balanced on the side of a dime . . .

Hay bales are heavy, swung by calloused hands;

while the calves are born wet and cold, held in caring arms;

and the machinery is ancient, held together by duct tape and a prayer.

 

Family farmers, precariously balanced on the side of a dime . . .

Super market prices are climbing, but farm bills climb faster;

while the banks stop lending, instead rubbing their hands together;

and another towel get thrown in, soaked with sweat and tears.

 

Family farmers, dimeless, wobbling . . . falling.

Bridge Over Stewart Creek in Duluth

Getting Ready for Trump's Visit to Duluth

In Dubious Battle

Driving home from work, I came over the Blatnik Bridge to find that Hammond Avenue had been closed for renovations. Taking the detour onto Tower Avenue, I rolled down the window and let my arm hang out. The day was turning into evening, and the sky was lit up with the vibrant colors of a northern Wisconsin sunset. It was such a beautiful evening, and when a corny rock song came on the radio and I remember smiling to myself and feeling pretty good about life.

The Rest Stop Incident

I was driving east on Highway 10, leaving New York Mills. The sun was setting in my rear view mirror as I pulled into a small rest stop to answer nature’s call. The simple structure and parking area were nothing special. However, as a shy person, I was relieved to see that I was the only one there.

Abandoned Finnish Homestead

Memorial Day Weekend in the Northland

After a cold winter, Lake Superior still has 3% ice coverage at the end of May.  Most of it is gathered in bays and nooks along the shore.  This silly photo of me was taken at a beach at the end of Jack Pine Road in Cloverland, in the northeast corner of Douglas County, Wisconsin.

Lake Superior

Abandoned House in Maple

Old Coop Hall in the Upper Peninsula

My Unsuccessful War With Geese

It was one of those beautiful summer days that poets write about.  The sun was shining and there was a light, cool breeze coming off of the lake.  It felt like the world was at my fingertips!  Determined to seize the day, I jumped on my bicycle and took off for a lovely trail that runs along the harbor.

Collapsing Barn in Waino

A Biker's Crush

The soft sun was already starting to head towards the not so distant horizon.  “Another two, three hours and it’ll be dusk,” Jimmy thought to himself.  He looked out at the trail before him.  By starting in the late afternoon Jimmy figured he had a good incentive to push hard, so that he could get home at a decent hour.  It generally took him about six hours or so to bike from Ashland to Superior, so starting this late meant that Jimmy would have to do about half of his trek in the dark.  That didn’t bother him though, not one bit. In fact he was rather excited about it.  Something about biking in the dark seemed very dramatic and cool to him.  “Biking in the moonlight, it has a nice sound to it,” he thought to himself.

The Wirtanen Farm

The Mysterious Oulu Railway Car

The other year, while exploring an abandoned Finnish homestead on Hoover Line Road I came across an amazing find - an ancient railroad boxcar!  Not having been aware of Oulu having ever had a railroad, I had no idea how it got there.  I posted photos of it on my facebook page in an album titled "The Magic of Oulu".  The mysterious boxcar garnered a lot of interest, so I've been researching since to try and figure out what its story was.

A Lonely Barn in Oulu

A Tale of Two Workers

a silly sock puppet presentation on immigrant & native born worker solidarity

Scene 1

-Narrator: Paula was an American auto worker.  Born and breed in the great state of Wisconsin, right out of high school she had gotten a job at the AMC auto factory in Kenosha.  She worked hard, earning every dollar of his paycheck.  And as time went on, she was able to build a decent life for herself.  She had a loving family, and a decent house with two cars in the drive way.  But then the American Motors Corp. went under, and the plant got shut down.  Suddenly it seemed life everyone Paula knew was unemployed.  Her husband was still working, but didn't he make enough to support the whole family.  So, with the tenacity of a bulldog, Paula hit the pavement, and after several months of collecting unemployment and applying at literally dozens of jobs, she finally got hired on at the Abbott Laboratories as a janitor.  The pay was only a 1/3 of what she had gotten at American Motors, but it was job, and she was glad to have it.