Generations Reflections by people 55 and over
October 2018
D2 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
Teenager’s love of trains proved picture-perfect
Submitted photo
Howard Patrick caught the last days of the steam age. He was 16 years old when he took this photo in mid-summer 1956. Engine 3386 is starting to pull her heavy load eastbound out of the Willmar yard. The December 2015 quarterly of the Great Northern Railway Historical Society included 10 photos, including this goat cover and eight in the Willmar yard, taken by the then Illinois teenager. Submitted photo
With his hand on the throttle, the hogger leans out listening to his locomotive as they move slowly through the Willmar yard on Aug. 20, 1956.
By Howard Patrick as told to Rand Middleton New London
Submitted photo
Westbound Extra 3387 gathers speed out of Willmar in August 1957. Patrick had asked the fireman to “sand the flues” when he spotted him waving his arms at township crossings. The teen raced ahead in the family car for two more photographs as smoke shot straight up on a still day.
Howard Patrick of New London started hanging out at rail yards in Chicago and Willmar during his early teens. Armed with a camera, he showed a natural eye for settings, composition and lighting, plus a darkroom dexterity. Howard visited with Rand Middleton recently sharing some of his favorite photos from a lifetime affair with steam and diesel. His photos have been published in magazines, quarterlies and books. I grew up in Rockford, Illinois. My parents both liked trains and often took my sister and me on picnics to watch and photograph them. We rode the Illinois Central Railroad on day trips to Chicago, about 85 miles. My mother, Erra, was born in Willmar in 1904. Her father, Rev. Thomas Scotton, was a Presbyterian missionary. In his retirement, he spent summers in his small cabin on the north shore of Green Lake. Most summers
in the 1950s, we drove up for a twoweek vacation. From the front yard, I could see steam-powered freight trains and hear their whistles as they rolled through Spicer. In the mid-’50s, Mom would drive me into Willmar to see the trains. In 1956, when I had my license, I drove our ’55 Chevy 210 V8 to the depot. The Great Northern yard was very busy. I always asked permission to take photos. Most of the railroad men were friendly and helpful. Even back in Rockford, when I was just 14 years old, I’d take the city bus downtown to the Illinois Central yard. My father had died when I was 12, and I inherited his 35mm Leica. He had a black-and-white darkroom in the basement where I learned to develop negatives and print photos. Along the way, I acquired 120 and 616 bellows cameras for shooting steam portraits using a tripod. I’d ask the engineer to pose the locomotive in the best location. Often they would, if not too busy.
West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn. — Thursday, October 25, 2018 D3
Submitted photo
Engine 3245 switches cars at Paynesville in this photograph taken from an empty gondola car on an adjacent track. Howard Patrick was 17, and it was an August day in 1957. Engine 3245 was getting ready for its St. Cloud run. The “Hogger” - that’s the engineer - invited Patrick to ride along to Paynesville. He caught a westbound local back to Willmar.
Submitted photo
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I went to college at Macalester. One summer I worked on the GN Track Gang of mostly Ukrainians resurfacing the mainline through Minneapolis. I was lucky to get the job, but it was tough work; that’s where I learned to cuss, there and the Army. I got the job because my grandfather was friends with an executive on the GN. After two years of college, I went railroading full time, first working at the Illinois Central freight house in Rockford, then to the railroad’s Traffic Office in South Chicago. Later, I worked on the Milwaukee Road in Wisconsin as a station agent and towerman. After three years in the Army, I hired out on the Great Northern, first as a towerman at Boom Island in Minneapolis and then a long stay as a ticket seller in the downtown Minneapolis depot. My last job for GN was as a brakeman out of Willmar during the winter of 1968-69. Over the years, I’ve photographed trains and railroaders in much of the U.S. Also, Mexico, Canada, Western Europe, and Peru and Bolivia in South America. I still enjoy train watching. Yearly, my wife, Verna, and I ride Amtrak to visit family out west. When the Digital Age arrived and my old hands-on darkroom became obsolete, I gave up railroad photography, but I still furnish photographs from my color slide and black-and-white collections to various rail-themed publications.
As Extra 3386 waits to depart Willmar in August 1956, the engineer makes his traditional inspection of the headend while his head brakeman observes.
D4 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
Submitted photo
Patrick perfectly captured these powerful locomotives in the Minneapolis depot preparing to race westward on their separate routes on a rainy evening in May 1967. The North Coast Limited will head northerly to St. Cloud and Staples, while GN’s Empire Building would make its first stop in Willmar. The photo was published in 1998 in “Twilight of the Great Trains” by Fred W. Frailey.
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Howard Patrick: Chasing steam in 1957.
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West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn. — Thursday, October 25, 2018 D5
Reminiscing childhood pranks By David V. Levine Fargo, N.D., formerly of Willmar You did it, I did it, we all did it. Childhood pranks while growing-up. Some of it, no doubt, was peer pressure. For most of us it was one of out first true thrills to belong to our friends and do something, some called naughty or mischievous. For the group I belonged to, naughty is a word that just quite didn’t get it. Maybe trouble is the word. And we got into it. No one ever got into naughty. I wasn’t involved in this one, but it ranks right up there as a fun kid laugh. Willmar was a city of 10,000 when I was growing up. The town had, I believe, just one fulltime cop and maybe a part-timer or two. Anyway, Willmar was as clean and crime-free as Mayberry, and the cops went easy on most truants. They were nice guys. So, I guess, my pals thought they’d have fun with Willmar’s lead cop, Nick Curtis. It was the day after a snowstorm and plowed drifts were high all over town. These two pals were able to use a snow pile in the back alley to climb up to the roof of the Ford dealership. They started snowballing cars waiting at the stop light down below. Confused drivers looked around for the trouble makers and drove on. Then along came the Willmar police squad car and, as it waited at the light, it was peppered with four, maybe five direct hits. ‘Ol Nick got out, looked allaround and saw nothing. One could see his consternation. Officer Nick, unbeknownst to the snowball pitchers, drove around the block again. This time, coming down Litchfield Avenue, he noticed the white balls sailing down from the roof,
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reached down. hit the siren button and stopped and got out for the chase. Our guys quickly ran to the rear of the dealership roof, jumped into the snowbank and ran fast as they could to Art’s Pool Hall on Benson Avenue. They got away.
Nothing ever happened. No accusations were thrown, but the word spread among us and we all got great laughs. A few guys in my class had cars. Our world hadn’t yet arrived at almost every kid having one. It was always amusing to me when they’d cruise
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town with the windows down, the driver’s elbow draped outside and a pack of smokes rolled-up in the sleeve of the shirt. Cool man, cool. Willmar had a weekday residential delivery of a sheet called the Daily Reminder. It contained store coupons and news of sales throughout the town. One guy, a senior I think, ran the sheets off on a mimeograph machine. He’d hand 500 sheets to us and order us to hit the neighborhoods and place them inside the front doors. I took half the pile and headed for the west side. My bud went to the eastside. He was back and paid within a half-hour. I didn’t return for at least an hour and a half. Don’t remember how I found out, but my chum had dumped his pile in an incinerator. Why that bum! The old Kandiyohi County Courthouse used to sit inside a city block, surrounded by manicured lawns, shrubs and trees. The classic place should never have been torn down. Inside you walked on old creaky wood floors. On the third floor there was a door that led to an attic no one ever seemed to visit. Leave that to this writer and a buddy. We silently snuck up the small stairway. What we didn’t know was that the attic was a nesting place for a lot of pigeons. When we emerged at the top, we spooked them into flight and as they left we were gifted with several runny pigeon poops. Once outside we looked up and there on the roof was the flock cooing away in unison. I think they were laughing. At home washing up for supper, I saw a blotch of that crap in my hair. If I hadn’t that would have been an iffy explanation.
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D6 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
! s e i l f o Sho By Beverly Kelbing Lake Lillian
Shoo! Shoo! Flies go away! Living in the country in the 1930s and 1940s meant that almost every farm had numerous animals. Animals meant flies gathering on the screen door of the house. Flies and other insects would be attracted to the screen door because of the delicious odors emanating from the kitchen. The inside house door was usually open in the summertime because there was no air conditioning. Hopefully a cool breeze would come through the screen door. There was the problem of trying to get inside the house before the flies when the screen door was opened.
The solution to the fly problem was the swisher. It usually consisted of a strip of oilcloth or fabric fastened to a 12-inch length of a broomstick. The piece of oilcloth could vary in size but 14-inches by 16-inches worked well. Slits were cut about 1½ inches apart. The uncut portion was wrapped in overlapping layers around the end of the broomstick and nailed or tacked into place. This allowed the strips to hang down freely. A hole was put in the opposite end of the broomstick so it could be hung on a nearby nail. Some people fastened it to the top of the door. Swish! Swish! Move the swisher across the door and hopefully the flies would go away and you could enter the house without the flies.
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West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn. — Thursday, October 25, 2018 D7
One reaps what one sows By Mary Lou Pederson Blomkest
I saw a new child playing outside in the neighborhood with my child. It was freezing cold outside. Word had it that these people were on welfare. The new child had on a light windbreaker. She looked like she was shivering. My child had an extra coat. Maybe I should offer it to her. Then common sense kicked in. Better not. What if my own child should end up needing it and what’s the matter with her parents anyway, letting a kid go out in the freezing cold in a windbreaker? I saw a man standing on a street corner holding up a sign, “Will work for a meal.” My heart began to engage, but thankfully I came to my senses quickly. “Why doesn’t the lazy bum get a job.” I saw a request in the church bulletin: Young mother needs help babysitting her four children – husband in the hospital. Wow! Four kids! … and who helped me when my kids were little and my husband was always gone? Not a one. An elderly gentleman down the street on oxygen needs rides to his doctor appointments. I’ve got some spare time, but oh, the price of gas is so hideous and everyone knows, oxygen and gas don’t mix. What if he blows up my car? Get real girl, I can’t even afford to go anywhere myself. Someone else can do it! A young lady I was talking to at church begins to cry. I don’t know
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why she was crying. I stood and watched her cry. Should I give her a hug? Oh, what is the stupid girl
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crying for anyway? She needs to toughen up. What a wimp. A little girl knocks on my door.
She was the cutest little thing, about 5 I suppose. She was selling Girl Scout cookies. Must have been her first time. She was so nervous. I asked her how much she wanted for a box. She told me. I almost swallowed my cigarette. I told the girl that was outrageous and slammed the door in her face. I saw her walk away with tears in her eyes. I guess I taught her a lesson not to extort people. The day came when my winter coat was tattered and torn and all I had to live on was $300 a month of Social Security. No one gave me a warm coat. I shivered in the cold. The day came when my cupboards were getting pretty bare and I still had a week to go before I would get my check in the mail. I went hungry. The day came when I needed someone to do me a favor, but no one cared. The day came when I couldn’t drive anymore and needed a lift to my doctor appointments, but no one offered. The day came when I needed a hug, but no arms touched me. The day came when I needed a friend to understand and buy what I had to sell, but doors were slammed in my face. Then I realized what a selfish life I had lived. O, dear God, forgive me! Galatians 6:7 – Do not be deceived. God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.
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D8 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
Halloween values today, lessons of the past By Corrine Nelson Grove City Celebrating Halloween back in the year 1964 and 1965 in one small town with a population between 300 to 400, holds precious warm mellifluous memories we will never forget. It was a hallowed time for children and entire families as they worked together and prepared for this. Our family ran a mercantile store in town. My husband came home as soon as he could; I had taught school that day. We enjoyed giving treats together to all the happy children coming to our door. Our town was nestled among busy working farm families in west central Minnesota. After they had finished their work for their day, they drove into our town. By 6 p.m. the small children, with their parents, went house to house knocking on doors. By 8 p.m. we were a town full of happy
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families enjoying Halloween. In the new year of 2018 let us go back to the year of 1965 and
ponder a special holiday season celebrated throughout the USA and what it teaches us today.
Halloween is held Oct. 31 and is followed the next day by All Saints Day; hallow is to make holy or sacred. This was the way it was in the year of 1965 in our small town. Celebrating Halloween teaches a profound lesson for our time today in 2018. We must all observe history and learn from the past to build a strong future. In 1965 you could find our town busy and vigorously flourishing. This was a good healthy place to live. Halloween found people ready for a fun time. The churches in our town had opened their doors to welcome all to come in and enjoy warm drinks and treats. This was a time to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Love will flourish while hate will destroy. Halloween will be remembered for years to come. This is a story written from history that pictures the changing values of our time. Study the past to help understand the present and build a strong tomorrow.
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West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn. — Thursday, October 25, 2018 D9
Weddings don’t need to be fancy By Bessie Klose Atwater
A friend and I were talking about how weddings have changed in the years since we married 50 or 60 years ago. She spoke of the tiny frilly aprons we used to get or give for being a waitress at a wedding reception, which was usually held in the church dining room. She said she has many, and wishes she had marked whose wedding she had gotten which ones from. I stated I hadn’t even had a reception at church as we had gotten married in church with just our two attendants, the minister and our immediate families. We had no music or flowers at the church. After the wedding we had a reception at my parents’ home, with a wedding cake and some flowers. I will admit that three of our cousins did waitress and received fancy aprons from me. It may not have been fancy, but it was done with love and the lack of a fancy wedding did not affect our marriage as we celebrated our 60th anniversary in 2016. My daughter followed suit, as she purchased her wedding dress at half price. She had picked out her color scheme and her two bridesmaids, her sister and her husband’s sister. She and I were shopping a crazy daze sale and saw a rack of formals on sale for $10 each. I kiddingly said, “Here you can get your bridesmaid’s dresses.” So
laughing she looked at them and said, “Well this is the color I want.” Looking a little closer we discovered there were two matching dresses in the color she wanted and they were
sizes that would fit her bridesmaids. She figured they wouldn’t hold sale items, but asked the salesperson anyway and they said they would hold them for 24 hours. So Lisa rushed home and got her two bridesmaids and had them come and try them on. They fit, but the only thing wrong was that they were strapless and her sister said she didn’t do strapless. But they went next door to JoAnns Fabric and found a lacy material that matched the dresses, found a pattern
dresses and the fabric. They were beautiful and they cost each girl under $30. She had also bought little copper candle holders from a home decorating party, which she gave to the bridesmaids as their gift. The flower shop was able to use these as a base for their bouquets. As far as the reception it was held in the church dining room, served by some of the ladies from our church. The wedding cake was baked and decorated by the groom, who had attended school for baking and had worked in a bakery in Georgia before their marriage. The marriage ceremony was performed by my husband’s cousin, who was our best man and had gone to seminary school and was a minister in North Dakota at the time. The day after the wedding the couple opened gifts at our vices house. May sound Photo Metro Creative Ser cheap, but they have been married for over 25 years now.
for a little jacket that could be worn with the dress and asked her aunt if she would sew them. She was glad to, so Lisa bought the
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D10 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
Oh, to be young again ... including meat. Embracing what once was is good for the soul. I was 12 years old the first time I visited Minneapolis. The year was 1964 – the year the Ford Mustang came out – buildings were being razed to make room for 35W. I was raised by three families. A member of one of those families, Shirley, lived next to 35W just south of Franklin Avenue, and across the street from the Electric Fetus, the windows of which were blown out by a guy carrying a briefcase bomb that exploded during civic unrest due to the Vietnam fiasco some years laters. Shirley and her husband, Tony, lived in a small stucco house with their two children. Tony drove truck for Farmer’s Steel in north Minneapolis. Tony’s parents lived in a huge two-story house on the same lot. I helped renovate the upstairs into an apartment and carried bushel baskets of plaster down a two-story flight
of stairs during the day while I made parts for packing machines at Bemis at night. Oh, to be young again? Not the good olde days, for sure. Imagine my surprise, when decades later, while working at SMBSC in Renville (where I worked for five regrettable campaigns) they bag their product with a machine manufactured at Bemis. Life can be cruel at times. In late 1986 I moved to Raymond. It was most definitely not in search of fortune. I was 34 and the group of guys I hung out with were about the same age, going on 17, including myself, imagine that. Three decades later all of us are around 60, but some are still going on 17. Imagine that. … I believe I have found the fountain of youth! It is apparent to me that I partook of the fountain too late in life to stop the aging process. Alas!
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The year was 1972, my child bride, Sharon, and one-month-old Michael and I lived at 116 Wisconsin Avenue in Staples. I was in my second year of machine shop at Staples Area Vo-Tech when Bemis Company Inc., wanted two students to apply for job vacancies. So off to Minneapolis went Nels (a fine Scandihoovian) and myself. I was notified the following Thursday to start work at Bemis on the following Monday at 4 p.m. We left Staples Friday morning to find an apartment in Minneapolis, and we were accepted that day. The apartment was located on 31st, one block south of Lake Street, near Powderhorn Park. Back to Staples we went to load our 1950 Chevy half-ton pickup truck with our worldly goods and headed for our new home in a grand Clampett-like
fashion. That weekend was a such a hectic pace that I don’t remember many of the details. I arrived at my new job and my foreman was going to start me on a lathe. It was down for repairs so I started on a Milwaukee horizontal milling machine. My take-home pay was $125 a week, wow! I was used to $60 to $70 for a week’s worth of work at Wadena Hide and Fur (by far not my worst job). Before long I traded my ’50 Chevy hillbilly pickup truck for a 1963 Buick LeSabre station wagon. A beast of a machine with an engine over 400 beautiful cubic inches. I would set the cruise control at 90 mph on Highway 10 from Anoka to Verndale, then north 9 miles to Blue Grass (population 36 at the time) to visit our respective clans. Those truly were the good olde days. Oh yeah! Rent was $115 a month, the large paper grocery bags averaged $5,
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By Dennis Torgerson Willmar
West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn. — Thursday, October 25, 2018 D11
Mystery lady visits Lake Lillian By Ed O’Melia Lake Lillian Lake Lillian has been visited by many people in its short history. In the old days they came by foot, by horseback or even by donkey cart. In more recent times they have come by train, by car, and in winter by snowmobile. But all have arrived by field and road and waterway until a sunny Saturday afternoon this past July when a comely young woman descended from the heavens! Gadzooks! I did not witness the young lady’s no doubt graceful descent. I was perhaps a minute or two too late. I was traveling south on the dirt road just east of Lake Lillian that leads to the sewage ponds when I spied a figure by the side of the road that did not appear to be a pedestrian or a jogger, but did appear to be struggling with something, like a fisherman trying to reel in a large fish. As I got closer I realized that the mysterious figure was that of a young, fit woman who was indeed struggling
to reel in, not a fish, but a partially deflated multi-colored parachute. She was wearing one-piece coveralls and had a parachute harness strapped to her chest. I was so astounded by the sight of this lady parachutist that I braked my car and called out to her, asking if she needed help. She asked me to wait a minute while she continued to tame her parachute at the same time as she consulted her hand-held computer, no doubt trying to find out exactly where she had landed. Presently she approached my car and said to me, as she vigorously waved her left hand in an easterly direction, “I think I should be over there. I think I should be on the other side of the lake.” I noticed that the young lady, who appeared to be in her late 20s, spoke good English, but with a decided accent, possibly eastern European, possibly Russian. I told her that I would gladly offer her a lift to the other side of the lake (I used the word “lift” and then
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thought perhaps I should have said the word “ride” instead. No matter, she understood me perfectly.) She declined my offer, saying that she would call someone and have them
pick her up. That was the extent of our conversation, and I drove on up the road to a spot where I usually exercise my dogs, who were with me in the car. I kept my eye on the young lady, however, who at one point re-inflated her parachute, possibly to get it to lay down flatter. In any case, after about 15 minutes, a white pickup turned off Highway 7, drove north on the dirt road, passed me, and stopped by the mystery parachutist. After awhile, the pick-up turned and drove back up to the highway. I presumed that was her ride. Someone jokingly said later that perhaps she was a Russian agent sent by President Putin himself to cause mischief. If so, she must have been blown hundreds of miles off course by a mighty wind, for surely her objective would have been Chappaqua, New York, where a former First Lady and fierce Putin critic lives. Editor’s note: This was first published in the September 2018 edition of the Lake Lillian News.
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D12 Thursday, October 25, 2018 — West Central Tribune — Willmar, Minn.
About this section:
Stuck
Generations, formerly Prime Time, sections are published periodically throughout the year as a special section within the West Central Tribune. People age 55 and older are invited to write stories and submit pictures or other artwork for publication in these sections. We recognize that senior citizens have much knowledge and experience. What better way to share that with the community than by writing an article for publication? We invite all interested senior citizens to contribute articles. They may deal with serious issues, or tell human interest stories.
By Bev Goodmund Blomkest One of my favorite CDs is playing Driving down the road I’m singing with it Funny how a song gets stuck in my head “Keeper of the Stars” is stuck in my head If God answers my prayer There will be a special person some day Yes, like the others, I still have dreams And what I hope someday may be If so blessed I would never… Take that person for granted But… Cherish and hold fast, thank God each day Some lessons come harder and I’ve learned Years together can never be taken for granted It can end all too soon Yes I would do all I could to … Make his dreams come true and … Make his life blessed and happy.
Photos or other graphics may be included with the submission of your article to help illustrate the piece. If you need a photo returned, please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Try to keep articles to within 500 words. Articles may be sent to: Generations, West Central Tribune, Box 839, Willmar, Minn. 56201; or emailed to news@wctrib.com with Generations in the subject line. Generations sections are currently published January, April and October. For additional information, call 320235-1150.
Senior Transportation Program
· Uses volunteer drivers who use their personal vehicle to transport seniors.
· Available Monday through Friday 8:00am-4:30pm. · Available to residents who are at least 60 years of age and who register with CCT. · A priority of the program is medical trips and can be used up to 3 times per week. · The Fare/Cost is based on your income in the form of Cost-Share Contributions. · This Program will provide transportation in Kandiyohi, Renville, and Meeker counties as well as outside the service area.
PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION BUILDS STRONG COMMUNITIES
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• Promotes independence • Creates job opportunities • Keeps rural communities connected • Dial-a-ride service in Kandiyohi, Renville and Meeker Counties • Route service from Olivia to Willmar, Litchfield to Willmar, Cokato to Litchfield and coming soon to Hutchinson and Redwood Falls! • Daily, evening and weekend service in the City of Willmar and Litchfield.
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Olivia 320-523-3589
Litchfield 320-693-7794
Willmar 320-214-7433
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Visit our website for more information www.cctbus.org 001785682r1
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