Nancy Borson

Carving Her Way Through Life

by Esther Piszczek

Nancy

Borson is a survivor. Tragedy has been her companion and starting over her way of life. Born in International Falls in 1940, she graduated from St. Olaf College with a chemistry degree in 1962. She met her husband Vern while working a summer job on the Gunflint Trail. “We loved to ski, hike, canoe; we were both woods people,” remembers Nancy.

They were married in July 1963 at the Wilderness Canoe Base, where they met. In 1965, their daughter Beret was born after Vern accepted a management job at the base, sixty miles from Grand Marais.

Living at the end of the Gunflint Trail, they weathered winters in a cabin without indoor plumbing or television. Their closest neighbor lived three miles away.

Wood Carving Becomes a Passion

During winters, Nancy used Vern’s lathe tools to carve signs and whimsical people out of scrap wood. “Winters were long. I always liked to dabble in the arts, so I started carving. Using a mallet and big chisels, I could only carve big things. I had no choice but to be creative because I had no instruction. It was a good way to start carving because I wasn’t restricted by conventions. I still like to carve that way,” she explains.

After their first son was stillborn, Vern and Nancy adopted Peter in 1968. Seven months later, after surviving a harrowing ride to Grand Marais while hem- orrhaging, Nancy gave birth to Jim whose head had turned and miraculously blocked the bleeding from Nancy’s torn placenta, saving both their lives.

An Unexpected Loss

In 1978, the family moved to Grand Marais. Vern, who had suffered from depression, committed suicide in March 1980. “The world went completely black. We never saw it coming,” reflects Nancy.

Left with $50 and three children (ages 11-14), it took two long years for Nancy to notice the sunshine again. “In my black, black world, only one thing mat- dren, Nancy suggested they build a cabin on a remote piece of land they’d bought before Vern’s death. The children agreed. For five years, with minimal help and no road access or electricity, they used a boat to haul lumber, tools, and gravel to the property across a half mile of open water. The 20'x 24' cabin with a loft is still standing. tered and that was raising the children. I was fortunate to land a job at the post office in 1982 so that I could support the family. I will be forever grateful for the help received from the community in Grand Marais.”

“We still have it, we still use it, we still love it and it’s well built,” declares Nancy.

To stay engaged with her teenage chil-

In 1987, with her oldest child in Alaska and her sons leaving for school, Nancy knew it was time for a change. “I realized all the children were going to be gone. I needed to get so busy I couldn’t think. I knew I couldn’t stay in the house in Grand Marais alone,” says Nancy.

A New Beginning

With her children’s blessing, Nancy pursued the career she put aside when she married. At 47, she enrolled in a Ph.D. program in biochemistry at the University of Minnesota Duluth and graduated seven years later.

“I admire [my kids] for understanding that Mom needed a life too. It was scary to give up a secure job. We sold the house to finance our educations. It was so hard for us to lock the door one last time knowing we’d never come home again.”

After graduation, Nancy worked as a professional associate of research at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. For 17 years, she conducted immune system research working with physicians on clinical stud ies as a specialist in molecular biology concentrating on DNA and RNA.

Wood Carving Brings Solace

Fifteen years after she stopped carving, Nancy took a community education class in 1995 and joined the Rochester club of 150 members. “Just thinking about wood carving would relax me. It’s wonderful to do something with my hands,” says Nancy.

When Nancy retired in 2010, she moved to Duluth and assumed she would join the local carving club except, there was none. Undaunted, she set up a booth at the UMD farmer’s market, sold her carvings, and began a list of names. When the list hit 20, she called the first meeting of the Knotty Carvers of the North.

The club has been growing ever since and held its third annual carving show in November at the Proctor Area Community Center, where the club meets the first Saturday of every month from 9 am to noon.

“It’s not the life I predicted it would be. It’s been a ride. I’m grateful things have worked well,” concludes Nancy.

To learn more about the Knotty Carvers of the North visit knottycarvers.com. D

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