Dakota: Rebutting the Sneers

I can’t speak for the state of North Dakota, nor for Wells County, nor for the town of Fessenden, nor even for everyone in my own family.  The voice I have speaks only for myself, but it IS a voice. 

I read an article in National Geographic about this state, and it makes me grieve.  I grieve for the losses highlighted in the article; I grieve for the people of this state whose families have suffered; and I grieve that most people will never realize how very much more there is to this state than what is portrayed. 

Living here, in Small Town USA, often reminds me of Mayberry RFD.  It’s timeless, and it’s priceless.  After roaming around for years out in the ‘real world’, when I wanted a safe place to raise my youngest two daughters it was to my old hometown that I came.  It took a whole day to find a house that I could afford to rent ($100.00/month), and a very few months to identify and fill a niche in this rural society that I could and would fill (a year-long local domestic violence pilot program – which has since become a regular program). 

I can chuckle about the fact that my kids never bothered to lie to me about riding their bikes too fast on the other side of town, or pulling each other across the railroad tracks on their roller-blades – they knew darned well that by the time they got home I’d have already gotten at least one phone call informing me of their misdeeds.  Kids tend to not like the watchfulness of the community at large, but we parents appreciate it.

Now that my own children are grown, and I’m back in the state (again!) after several years of going back ‘out there’ to make a living, I’ve noticed that I’m not the only one who has thought that this is a good place to raise one’s kids.  No, the kids don’t particularly appreciate it at the time (I didn’t and my own kids didn’t), but the employers of people brought up here in this state DO, and the kids do once they realize the value of what they’ve been given.

Where else can you watch the sun rise in peaceful serenity (sometimes it crests the horizon in blazes of colors no artist can hope to capture) and watch it go down in more power than you’d believe possible?  Where can your children be under watchful eyes at all times and still be free?  Where can you have people know exactly who you are and what you do, even after years of being away?  The communication system in Small Town USA puts the internet to shame, folks.  It’s one of the most griped about of all characteristics, and it’s one of the most effective tools when someone’s in need. 

The cost of living here is better than reasonable.  The crime rate is low.  The ratio of students to teachers is impressive and the educations received are excellent.  Grand Forks and Minot host protective Air Force Bases.  The western part of the state contains massive stores of energy-producing materials.  Hunters, fishermen, and nature nuts couldn’t possibly find anywhere better to hang their hats.  We produce a great deal of the food on our tables (and yours) PLUS we get to watch the seeds go in, the grain grow, the harvest, and if we want we can follow that same grain to a local processing plant and see it come out in boxes of pasta that we can take right on home and have for supper. 

We celebrate our seasons here in fine style.  Winter is for catching pictures of the frost before the sun and wind take it away, riding snowmobiles (you know what a Poker Run is?), going to winter sports events, cutting our own trees for Christmas, baking and/or eating all sorts of awesome ethnic treats (okay, lutefisk is NOT awesome, but it’s traditional), producing snowmen and snow angels, ice fishing, and keeping an eye on the thermometer from inside a warm cozy home with a good book and a big cup of hot chocolate at hand.  It’s for doing chores in the nastiest of weather, too.

Spring brings spring sports, outdoor activities, getting the gardens ready and seeded, watching the spring’s work proceed, getting used to the idea that we can go barefoot again if we want to, checking over the lawn mower to make sure it’s going to be able to handle the task of keeping all that thick rich green grass comfortable under our bare feet, and quietly recognizing the fact that each day’s sunshine is longer than the day before’s. It’s also realizing that there will be farm equipment on the roads. Smile and wave –those guys are growing sustenance for you.

Summer is fishing, and chores, weeding the gardens, watching the flowers burst and the trees fill out, swimming at the river beach, doing outside jobs like roofing and fencing and painting, knowing where all the road construction projects are so you can plan your schedule accordingly, keeping an eye on the growing crops, hearing the buzz of aerial crop-dusters and seeing the ‘wingspans’ of terra-gators, sometimes spread across fields and sometimes folded as they poke along the roads (if you had a very small sports car you might be able to scoot beneath them, but I don’t think it’s a recommended practice), tanning with each hour you spend outside, watching the skies for developing weather patterns that might make you run for cover, cooking on the grill more often than inside, eating the first fruits of your garden produce and canning more of it for winter use. It’s watching the young of spring as they grow and hearing the mourning doves lulling you to sleep after a full day. It’s County Fairs and visiting with people and checking out the ribbons in the Women’s Building, eating caramel apples and foot long hot dogs and cotton candy.

Fall is harvest and hunting, still more fishing, putting up produce, apple pies with apples stolen from a neighbor’s tree (sorry neighbor, I’ll make you one this year and use my secret magic pie crust recipe) which is so full the limbs are almost breaking with the weight of the fruit. It’s gathering chokecherries and making syrup because the juice will never jell right. It’s the most awesome of all the awesome sunsets of the year, and the harvest moon.

Reading the papers, you’ll find that people are still getting together for ‘harvest bees’ to help farmers who are in need – rows of combines stripping fields in no time flat and people stepping up to the plate to give a helping hand where necessary.  You’ll find out-pourings of local contributions loaded into trucks to head out to those who need that helping hand. 

Granted, none of this is strictly local to this area – I’ve seen the entire country opening its arms to people in crisis, and it’s heart-stopping – but we do our share, and I would guess that on a per capita scale we rank right up there.

Yes, the weather can hit hard up here.  It hits hard everywhere, and everywhere are people who struggle to survive it.  We usually know what’s coming and can often prepare for the basic weather patterns.  People have basements and know when to use them.  We have emergency supplies on hand and can survive just about anything. 

Yes, the population of the entire state could easily fit into a middle sized city.  A lot of us kind of like it that way.  But it’s growing; slowly, but growing, and we like THAT that way too.  This is not a place for just anyone.

Yes, there are towns dying out every day.  There were a LOT of them to begin with.

Yes, the population centers are in the few larger towns in the state.  Most of the rest of the space is full of crops.  A lot of us kind of like it that way.  And, for those who fight city traffic on a regular basis, we can get to a town a hundred miles away in the time it takes you to get to work every morning.  With less headaches. 

Yes, it’s hard to find high-paying jobs (or any job sometimes) in small towns around here.  Then again, it doesn’t cost that much to live here.  Computer-associated jobs can and are done from home these days; you don’t HAVE to live in the city where your ‘work’ is! 

Yes, the wind blows almost all the time.  It keeps the mosquitoes from killing us and the sun from roasting us, and the snow from piling up on us (although it does create drifts that stagger the mind – but that’s what snow-plows are for, and nobody in their right mind goes anywhere until the roads are clear anyway – and shoveling is good healthy exercise).  The wind is also a great natural resource that’s going to come into its own pretty soon.  The very factor that caused so much depression and sorrow will bring succor to the survivors of those it destroyed. 

Yes, there’s a shortage of non-school activities for youth.  That’s a problem each community struggles with individually. 

Yes, when it comes to things like domestic violence there are special problems involved with providing services. 

North Dakota needs people, there’s no question about that.  I think we need people who are ready, willing, and able to put their backs into our communities.  We need people who are strong enough to deal with the rurality of the state.  We need companies and corporations who are willing to look at us and notice that we’re strong and tough and smart and stubborn and self-sufficient – and see value – and figure out a way to put our strengths to good use.  I think that if you came to us with something viable to offer, we’d offer you in return our strengths.  If you came to our communities with your own strengths to add to ours, we would share our assets with you and everyone would come out ahead.

Every community has homes that need families to restore them.  It takes hard work and commitment, but the homes are here.  If nobody comes to live in them, they will die, and more of our towns will be the ghost towns that outsiders come here to write about. 

One thing I’ve noticed around here is that there’s a great deal of respect for those who work hard, who make an effort to do their best, and who are willing to pitch in when they’re needed.  Another thing I’ve noticed, in all honesty, is that there’s a level of questioning of those who come from the outside.  Chances are it will be difficult if you want to ‘belong’ immediately in Small Town USA, but there are ample community projects that will involve you in a positive way – you just have to involve yourself and be nice. 

Yes, North Dakota is spacious.  But it’s only lonely if that’s what you choose.  There’s a lot more here than you’d think.  A lot of us like it that way.

Besides, we have the UND hockey team.  A lot of us like that too. 

This Could Make Me Sell That

MY STUDIO

My House

ONLY ONE THING COULD INDUCE ME TO SELL THIS:

The following are a few pictures of my home. 

Front yard.

Back yard (with Duke in it).

Side street yard, fence, garage.

Front porch.

Living room from staircase.

Living room from front door.

Dining room into ktichen.

Living room from dining room.

Staircase.

Front bedroom, one of the walk-in closet doors.

Front bedroom, the other walk-in closet door.

Doorway from kitchen into dining room.

Showing woodwork between dining room and living room.

The brasswork matches throughout the house, as does the woodwork.

I may well have more photos to add to this collection, but for now this will do. 

So, what one thing could induce me to sell this place?

SEE NEXT POST.

The Gold Standard

It was that misty gold when you just happen to catch a ray of sunrise coming through the ground fog, or in this case more likely through residual harvest haze as the grain harvest is in progress east of us.  This morning I woke and opened my eyes into it, gazed for a moment, smiled, and went back to sleep.  It's gone now, of course, as the sun is well up, but that moment of softly glowing gold is mine always. 

One time, driving east into the most powerful sunrise I can remember, the road dipped down into a little foggy valley just as the sun hit it.  Suddenly I couldn't see beyond the interior of my vehicle, but I was not looking at anything inside right then.  It was the golden glow surrounding me that had all of my attention.  As though the rest of the world had disappeared, all I could see was the softly glowing gold mist.  I wanted to stop right there and stay forever. 

I don't know how or why it happens, the diffusion of sunrise through fog or haze that creates the phenomenon, but it's downright beautiful. 

Heh.  I've been accused of being lost in a fog at times.  I tell you:  if I ever DO have to be lost in a fog I surely hope it's one like that.  It's MUCH nicer than the ones that turn the world around you a cold impenetrable white just when you're trying to get somewhere in a hurry. 

They say, and I believe it, that some of us in our older years go back.  If it should happen to me I hope I go back into that golden gift, and stay there.

Artwork

Side Track

This is a side track I haven't explored.

It's located off the main trail of Phantom Canyon in Colorado. 

Side tracks ... they can be some of the most beautiful places in the world.  

One of these days I'll follow this one to see where it goes. 

An Interesting Phenomenon

On a truly lovely day in August my drive home to central Dakota from the Cities (Mpls/St. Paul, MN) was relaxing.  It was an easy drive for once, no blizzards to contend with.

I was just puttering along at the speed limit watching the scenery and the cars passing me.  When we lived in Colorado my daughters and I often checked out the license plates of the cars passing us, so I'm kind of in the habit.

The variety is wonderful, I have to mention that.  North Dakota has only a couple of different ones, but Minnesota has quite a few, and most of them have birds or flowers or canoes, very pretty. 

Anyway, on this drive I was casually glancing at them as they went by.  At one point I realized that of the last twenty or so state plates I'd seen, only two had been either North Dakota or Minnesota. 

That area is one that I drive through on a fairly regular basis.  I habitually notice the car plates.  This was the first time I'd noticed a preponderence of out of state vehicles in an area where normally the ratio is predictably predominantly ND/MN. 

So that's the phenomenon.  There were East Coast plates, West Coast plates, Deep South plates, plates from all over the place.

I found myself wondering what on earth so many out-siders were doing in our neck of the woods, where they were heading, and what they were going to do when they got there. 

It's not hunting season, which is a time when outside plates are more common.  They could have been college students heading for NDSU or UND, except that most of the vehicles carried people in their middle or later years.  That also kind of discounts the possibility that they were headed for the oil fields in western ND. 

Whoever they were, wherever they were going, I hope they had sense enough to be looking around as they drove through.  The beautiful day was a perfect backdrop for MN trees, green pastures, and the blue of their water.  If the people were paying attention they would have noticed that the grain crops are starting to come off the fields, leaving expanses of stubble as a symbol of bread and pasta to come!  The corn is tall and the beans are just beginning to glow with maturation. 

It was indeed a lovely drive, and the variety of state license plates from all over gave me a puzzle to think about as I went along.  By the time I hit the border things were back to normal, but for a while there I had to remind myself by looking at the scenery that I wasn't back in CO doing a tourist tally with my daughters!