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#720 – Dick Bernard: “ah one and ah two…”

Tuesday, May 21st, 2013

THE TORNADO IN OKLAHOMA: While preparing this blogpost, word came of the tragic tornado most affecting Moore, OK. It caused me to recall another tornado which for some reason I’ve always remembered, the Fargo Tornado June 20, 1957003. See photo at the end of this post. In times like these thoughts always go to a heightened sense of community, and the importance of the public infrastructure and planning for the long term possibilities. Sometimes we do this well; often we do this poorly.

*

Lawrence Welk remembered

August 10, 1994, I was at the ancestral farm near LaMoure ND, trying to do a small part to help my Uncle Vince and Aunt Edithe during harvest time.

This particular day, a Wednesday, for some unremembered reason, the suggestion was made that we make the 110 mile drive west on Highway 13 to see the small farm near Strasburg where Lawrence Welk grew up.

I took a photo of Vince and Edithe, my Mom’s brother and sister, that day:

(click to enlarge)

Vince and Edithe at the Lawrence Welk boyhood home near Strasburg ND August 10, 1994.

Vince and Edithe at the Lawrence Welk boyhood home near Strasburg ND August 10, 1994.

For anyone over a certain age, the Lawrence Welk story doesn’t need repeating; and his long popular show lives on, larger than life, on TV week after week. He is a part of Americana.

He was the first recipient of the North Dakota Roughrider Award in 1961.

Lawrence was of the group called German-Russians who make up much of the population of South Central North Dakota. He and his brothers lived in the upstairs and unheated attic of the tiny farmhouse, and Welk practiced his music skills in the barn, entertaining the cows and the chickens when not doing the hard work required of farmers.

Lawrence Welk came unexpectedly back into my life last Thursday, on a visit to my still-surviving Uncle and Aunt, now living in Assisted Living and Nursing Home respectively in LaMoure; now 88 and 92.

We were about finished with “dinner” (the noon meal will always be “dinner” out on the prairie!) and in walked a lady and her husband who had come to do a show for the residents that very afternoon.

It was then I met Loretta (Welk) Jung and her husband Oliver.

Loretta (Welk) Jung at St. Rose Care Center in LaMoure ND May 16, 2013

Loretta (Welk) Jung at St. Rose Care Center in LaMoure ND May 16, 2013

Loretta, a retired First Grade teacher in Jamestown, is related to Lawrence: their Dads were first cousins, living in nearby communities. Loretta knew her much older cousin Lawrence as a person and at some point in time decided to carry on the Welk tradition by doing a road show at Nursing Homes and the like on her cousin, Lawrence Welk.

I can attest, she gave a fascinating program that enthralled the attentive audience at St. Rose Care Center last Thursday. If you look carefully, you can see Uncle Vince and Aunt Edith seated in the second row.

IMG_1342

The following day I went out to the farm with Vince to help with the mundane things that needed doing.

Mowing the grass beside the house, I found a verdant reminder of Edith’s love of flowers…she hasn’t been out to the farm for a long while, so these tulips had just decided to take things into their own hands and just get about the business of blooming.

May 17, 2013, beside the house

May 17, 2013, beside the house

We picked a bunch of the flowers and delivered them to Edith in her room at the Care Center.

The next day we picked some more, and brought them in as a more-or-less floral arrangement for the dining room.

May 18, 2013

May 18, 2013

And so the seasons go on.

In earth terms, it is spring, and the rhubard (“pie plant” to Edith) begins to grow as it always does in the patch in the garden; and the apple trees by the house begin leafing out for another season – maybe there’ll be lots of apples by fall, maybe few. We shall see.

"Pie Plant" (Rhubarb) May 17, 2013

“Pie Plant” (Rhubarb) May 17, 2013

April Tree leafing out at the farm May 17, 2013.

April Tree leafing out at the farm May 17, 2013.

For the rest of us, we’re in our own “season” in our lives.

May this season be a good one for you.

Cherish each day. Here’s a ten minute video on gratitude and living each day that helps put this into focus.

Thursday, June 20, 1957, Fargo ND

Fargo Tornado Jun 1957002

#717 – Dick Bernard: A look back to the future in North Dakota

Thursday, May 9th, 2013

A few days ago I did a long post about Sykeston High School, a tiny place near the center of North Dakota from which I graduated in 1958.

Curt Ghylin, now a Minnesotan but back in the early 1960s a student at the same college as I, Valley City State Teachers College, visited the blog, and noticed a state-wide test given to high school Juniors and Seniors that I had taken in November, 1957, on North Dakota History, Government and Citizenship.

For those interested, the 100 question test is here: ND Hist Govt Ctzn 1957001.

Curt asked a perfectly reasonable question: “I want to show our kids the test on North Dakota history that your referenced. Do you know if the key is available somewhere? I don’t know all the answers.”

Well, I was a kid taking the test in 1957, and I did well on it, but it was statewide, probably scored by the University of North Dakota (UND), 150 miles or so from where I was marking my sheet….

No, I don’t have an answer key, Curt.

And relooking at the test, yesterday, I wouldn’t give even odds that I’d get 50% right today, without lots of cheating!

But Curt’s was a perfectly reasonable question, and I knew I had placed second (or such) in the state that year, and there must be something…. In my bookshelf was a book I had been given at the state “Know Your State” contest at UND in December, 1957. It was an autographed copy of “North Dakota A Human and Economic Geography” by Melvin E. Kazeck of the Department of Geography of the University of North Dakota, published 1956 by the North Dakota Institute for Regional Studies at North Dakota Agricultural College (now NDSU) in Fargo.

Mostly, all of the answers will be somewhere in that 264 page book. Best I know I’m the only person in the world who has a copy (I google’d it), so if it’s going to get done, I’m going to have to be the one to do it.

And I will, Curt. Yes I will. Take the test yourself, and check back to this space by early June, 2013 for the “key” (which should be pretty close to accurate).

In his e-mail, Curt articulated a problem with such old documents: “I had to point out to my sister-in-law as she read the test that the date of the test was 1957 when she questioned why Interstate 94 wasn’t a possible answer for question 2—’The highway running across ND from Fargo to Beach’ “

Here, from Kazeck’s book, is a map with the answer to THAT question, from page 181! (The first stretch of ND Interstate wasn’t constructed until 1958, between Valley City and Jamestown, and that was among the first stretches of Interstate Highway in the U.S.)

(click to enlarge)

North Dakota Highways 1956 from Melvin E. Kazeck's North Dakota, A Human and Economic Geography

North Dakota Highways 1956 from Melvin E. Kazeck’s North Dakota, A Human and Economic Geography

But what about the title of this post, “A look back to the future in North Dakota”?

As I was leafing through Kazeck’s volume, I came across the last chapter “The Future of the State” of North Dakota.

That chapter was written 57 years ago, by someone very well versed in his topic and published by a respected institution.

This morning I pdf’ed that 35 or so page chapter, and for anyone with an interest, here’s how a North Dakota geographer saw the future of North Dakota in the year 1956: ND Geog 1956 Kazeck001

I find the chapter quite interesting.

I hope you do, as well.

#715 – Dick Bernard: On growing Elder.

Sunday, May 5th, 2013

This afternoon, at the annual Heart of the Beast May Day Parade, the obvious salute at the end of the regular parade was to “Grandmas and Grandpas”

(Click on photos to enlarge them)

Near end of May Day/Cinco de Mayo Parade, south Minneapolis, May 5, 2013

Near end of May Day/Cinco de Mayo Parade, south Minneapolis, May 5, 2013

A Grandpa (at left) and a Grandma honor the May Day Parade as it nears its end, May 5, 2013

A Grandpa (at left, partially obscured by a lady) and a Grandma are honored by, and honor, the Minneapolis May Day Parade as it nears its end, May 5, 2013

.

It was an especially nice, and particularly pertinent, touch to a topic that has been much on my mind in recent days, but has been on my thought screen for many years: how elders fit in (or not) in our contemporary American society.

In the last week or two I’d been concentrating on a long remembrance of past days at tiny Sykeston ND High School: the place I had graduated from in May, 1958.

Among many other memories, it occurred to me that at the time of my high school graduation 55 years ago, my Dad and Mother – he was the Superintendent and one of my teachers – were 50 and 48 years old respectively.

My oldest son is now 49. And my parents seemed plenty old, back then in May, 1958.

Then in mid-week last week, more or less impromptu, I had something to do with a gathering on Law Day, May 1, which by design celebrated several Elders, most over 90, all of whom had been prominent in their working lives, and now are part of the huge category called “who’s he?”, or “she?”.

In conversing with one of them – a man I scarcely knew before April, 2013 – I had occasion to remember a workshop from 1998, which became my Christmas card in 2000.

The topic was “Canyon of 60 Abandon”. The card is brief and can be read here: Canyon of 60 Abandon002

The premise of the Canyon story is really very simple: ours is a society which tends to discard its Elders at an arbitrary time called “retirement”. Oh, we give them things like Social Security and Medicare, but basically they’re marched off into a remote area to their old person thing, and (I suppose) hopefully leave behind a substantial financial inheritance.

The story goes on about one family who violated the society rules, and hid their Elder under their porch, ultimately to their great benefit.

In my recollection of that now-15 years ago workshop, the story-teller, Michael Meade, didn’t go into specifics about what value their Elder added to the family that benefited from his or her presence.

That is the essence of story-telling. It is left to the listeners to create the real-world basis of the story.

I’ve now been in that “Canyon of 60 Abandon” for over 13 years, and it has been a most interesting and extraordinarily enriching life experience.

There is something that the Elders possess that those younger cannot, and it is important that the Elders be valued and included and not discarded.

How our society relates to those “out to pasture” tells a great deal about us.

And it is important for us to really pay attention to these relationship questions, as we struggle, ever more, with an uncertain future, and with difficulties in inter-generational communication (think Facebook versus the face-to-face word-of-mouth) that our ancestors would have relied on not too many years ago.

Who do you know in that Canyon? How can they be more truly valued while they are living. And if you’re in that Canyon, what is important about not isolating yourself?

Can we talk?

Dick Bernard: Thoughts on Sykeston High School at its Centennial

Saturday, May 4th, 2013

NOTE: This is a very long post which may be of interest to residents of Sykeston ND, or those interested in rural education in ND and elsewhere 50 and more years ago.

A postcard brought news of a July 4-6 2013 celebration in Sykeston ND, celebrating the Centennial of Sykeston High School, from which I graduated in 1958.

While I attended the high school only the single year of 1957-58, it is of far more than routine importance to my family. My Dad, Henry, was Superintendent of the School from 1945-51 and again from 1957-61. Mom, Esther, taught in one of the two elementary classrooms there from 1957-61. When the school year began in September, 1945, Dad was 37, Mom had just turned 36. When they left Sykeston in 1961 they were 53 and 51.

Today I’m 73. It is hard to imagine my parents as that young, back then….

Sykes High was a central and crucial part of my life from age five till eighteen, never more than a block or two away from where we lived – home.

I have all of Mom and Dad’s teaching contracts, which are all basically identical to the three sample contracts from the Sykeston years which you can view here: Contracts 45-57-60001

Every contract, in their long careers, was for one year: when you signed the contract, you agreed you were fired at the end of the year. So we kids migrated with them from town to town throughout North Dakota.

But Sykeston held a different status. It was very much our “hometown”.

Right after my graduation in 1958, I went around the town taking (I would guess) ten color photographs with a new camera. Nine of them survive, including this one of the high school, below. (The other eight are at the end of this post. Anyone from Sykeston in that era will recognize them all.)

(click on all photos to enlarge them)

Sykeston High School 1958 by Dick Bernard

Sykeston High School 1958 by Dick Bernard

When Dad came to Sykeston for the 1945-46 school year, Mom was expecting child #4, Frank, who was born in November. She stayed in the tiny town of Eldridge west of Jamestown. Her sister Edith stayed with her for the last months.

Frank was named for Dad’s brother, our Uncle Frank, who had been killed on the Arizona at Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941.

Sometime in the summer of 1945, the family came to Sykeston and Doc and Liz Dummer showed them around. The Germans had just surrendered, beginning the end of WWII, in May 1945 (some of our cousins were Germans, conscripts in the German Army – War is not abstract, “us” vs “them”). Mom’s brother, George Busch, had been hired to teach at Sykeston in the Fall, but was an officer on the Destroyer Woodworth DD460 in the Pacific and his wife, my Aunt Jean, filled in for him till he was discharged in early November, 1945. His ship and many others docked in Tokyo Bay September 10, 1945. As Grandma Rosa wrote about that time: “Hurrah, the old war is over”.

Jean, then George, taught at Sykeston High School for two or three years. Their first child, Mary Kay, was born in the Sykeston years.

Here are a couple of period photos from early our beginnings at Sykeston ND:

Jean and Gloria Dummer and Mary Ann, Florence and Dick Bernard, probably summer of 1945 at Arrowhead Lake.

Jean and Gloria Dummer and Mary Ann, Florence and Dick Bernard, probably summer of 1945 at Arrowwood Lake.

Bernards at the Hafner House on the High School Block, probably January, 1946.  Esther and Henry with Frank, and Richard, Mary Ann and Florence.

Bernards at the Hafner House on the High School Block, probably January, 1946. Esther and Henry with Frank, and Richard, Mary Ann and Florence.

Dad succeeded Everett Woiwode as Superintendent; some years later, Everett rejoined the Sykeston staff while Dad was Superintendent. Both were graduates of Valley City State Teachers College.

Among the local ‘gang’ of kids in the 1940s was Everett’s son, Larry, who at one point was a student at Sykes High, and who is one of North Dakota’s notable citizens, among the recipients of the North Dakota Theodore Roosevelt Rough Rider Awards. For awhile I roamed the Sykeston streets with Larry and the gang!

Writing this brings back many memories of the school* and the town. Two of the most prominent are these:

I vividly remember what had to be Memorial Day in May of 1946. There were crosses on the high school lawn, and an honor guard. It was less than a year after the horrors of World War II.

On another occasion, I’m guessing it was about 1950, a bunch of we boys were playing basketball in the little gym in the basement of the school – I remember the low ceiling and gray painted concrete floor. Dad came down stairs for some reason and fell down the last few steps. Being kids, we didn’t pay much attention, but I remember his fall to this day. He was in his early 40s then, so he probably recovered quickly. We kids were basically clueless and useless.

In April 1948, Dad took this picture of the school:

Sykeston High School April 1948

Sykeston High School April 1948

Like all small town schools in ND, Sykeston never had many students. The 1983 Centennial History of the town gives a good description of education, including the below photo of the High School at its opening in 1913. Here are the relevant pages of the 1983 History: Sykeston ND Schools001

Sykeston High Sch 1913 001

The 1983 History list the names of the graduating seniors from 1916 to 1983. Perhaps still in the hall between the old and new school are the high school senior graduation photos from 1944-2005, the year the school closed.

In 2008 I took photos of all of these, and they are available on an open Facebook album page, including some other photos I added to the display. There was no graduation photo for 1945, possibly reflecting the turmoil around WWII, winding down in Europe, but still intense in the Pacific region. The 1944 photo includes several in military uniform.

Here is a list of the number of graduates in each year from 1916 to 2005: Sykeston Seniors 1916-2005. In all there were about 1050 high school graduates over the schools 92 years. The average class was about 11. The largest high school graduating classes were in 1927, 1936, 1965 and 1967. There were 31 graduates in 1927.

The smallest classes were post baby-boom years. In 2001 and 2002 there were only two graduates, and in 2005, the last year of the school, there were three graduates.

Sykeston’s data gives an interesting look at the ebbs and flows of population (and birth rate) in rural North Dakota, and is probably generally representative of other similar tiny towns in the Midwest.

Probably the proudest year for the town and the High School was 1950 when the Boys Basketball team won Third Place in the State Class C tournament in Valley City. I recall being there, but I was not yet 10, and I was not properly fixed on watching the games!

Much later, Travis Hafner (class of 1995) made a name for Sykeston as Designated Hitter for the Cleveland Indians.

Sykeston Welcome Sr 08001

Luckily, some years ago, I learned that Jean Dummer (Sister Jean) had the 1950 school annual, and I borrowed and copied it. The entire annual is available here: Sykes Hiawatha 50001 You can read, there, the exploits of the 1950 Boys Basketball team.

And I kept the 1958 Hiawatha, which Duffy Sondag and I co-edited. Here is that Yearbook: Sykes Hiawatha 58001 Even back then I wondered why the publisher, Intercollegiate Press of Kansas City, chose the mountain-scape for the inside front and back covers of the Annual. It didn’t quite match with the Sykeston I knew!

Here’s the high school Boys Basketball team for 1958-59, the year after I graduated:

1959 A Team: Jim Bierdeman Bob Miller, Duane Zwinger, Jim Merck and Lowell Fruhwirth

1959 A Team: Jim Bierdeman Bob Miller, Duane Zwinger, Jim Merck and Lowell Fruhwirth

And here’s a portion of the 1968 school newspaper, (reduced from the original legal size), apparently run on the same cantankerous old mimeograph machine that we’d used in 1958: Sykes High news May 68001 The news sheet would win no awards, I’d guess, but nonetheless it was news.

The newspaper says it is Vol. 34; the 1950 Annual was Vol. V, and 1958 was Vol. VIII. What if any meaning those numbers have is unknown.

In 1974, here’s what Sykeston’s Main Street looked like, through my Massachusetts brother-in-laws eyes.

Main Street, Sykeston, 1974, by Hank Maher

Main Street, Sykeston, 1974, by Hank Maher

For little towns, the public schools were an essential part of the very life of the community. When they closed, as Sykeston High School did at age 92, an important part of the town was lost with them: there remained fewer reasons to come to town.

PERSONAL
I’m old enough now (I’m 73 on this very day, May 4, 2013) and far enough away from those Sykeston years so I can reveal how I was (not) as a scholar at Sykes High!

As my 1957-58 Report Card indicates, I was not an especially diligent scholar. I was, in a four-letter word, l-a-z-y…. I only took those few courses, likely, because there were no other classes to take that I had not already completed somewhere else.

Sykeston Rept Card 57-58001

I had no inclination to make mischief, then. That natural kid impulse was never active. Dad was in the Superintendents office, or teaching Problems of Democracy (“Probs”); Mom was a floor below, teaching elementary. They were good teachers and gentle people, but not inclined to let us run free. Somebody from Sykeston said that it seemed I was “afraid of my Dad”. I won’t disagree. I had nothing to be especially afraid of, but he commanded respect. I didn’t test the boundaries.

Sometimes there is a suspicion that teachers kids get some sort of break. Not so, in my family. Best as I can tell, we were treated like everybody else. But neither was I one to overly attend to book-learning, then.

In the last Sykeston year, I did win the County “Know Your State” competition, and in December went to Grand Forks for the finals. In my memory, I finished second, behind Ron Lokken, the son of the President of Valley City State Teachers College.

Here is the test that we all took that November: ND Hist Govt Ctzn 1957001 It is interesting to note what knowledge they emphasized, then.

You can take it yourself, and see how you do.

Here is the list of the ND County finalists who went to Grand Forks December of 1957: ND Hist Co. Winners 1957001 Maybe you’ll see someone who became famous for some reason or another. Not I!

In the spring of 1958, my sister, Florence, was confirmed at St. Elizabeth’s, and we took a family photo at our house just east of the St. Elizabeth Town Hall.

I’m very much aware, at 73, that my parents, in that photo, were only 48 and 50 years old. My oldest child, son Tom, is 49….

1958 - Sykeston.  Back: Esther, Richard, Florence, Mary Ann and Henry; front John and Frank Bernard

1958 – Sykeston. Back: Esther, Richard, Florence, Mary Ann and Henry; front John and Frank Bernard

After graduation, I finally got the motivation to go to college. The motivator was unusual….

My first job was moving dirt, etc. by the wheelbarrow full at the under-construction St. Elizabeth Church across the street from the school. It was somewhere close to where the bell tower of the Church would be constructed that I made the decision that maybe going to college was a pretty good idea, and I then went straight through, summers and all, at Valley City State Teachers College, graduating in December, 1961.

In retrospect, I remember meeting Mr. Lou Bruhn at Valley City State Teachers College sometime earlier. He was Dean of Men there, and he’d been at the college when Mom and Dad were there. Maybe that helped soften me up?!

Ah the memories.

Here’s a 1960 photo of that then-brand new Church where I got education “religion”, plus the other photographs I took in May of 1958 in Sykeston.

Postcard of new St. Elizabeths Catholic Church, Sykeston ND ca 1960

Postcard of new St. Elizabeths Catholic Church, Sykeston ND ca 1960

Lake Hiawatha Spring 1958

Lake Hiawatha Spring 1958

Bridge to the Park, Spring 1958

Bridge to the Park, Spring 1958

Kids on the bridge, Spring 1958, the middle one my brother John, I think

Kids on the bridge, Spring 1958, the middle one my brother John, I think

The Swimming beach at Hiawatha Spring 1958

The Swimming beach at Hiawatha Spring 1958

The Water Tower, Spring 1958

The Water Tower, Spring 1958

Our new car, out by the dam, Spring 1958

Our new car, out by the dam, Spring 1958

Lilacs beside the lake, Spring 1958

Lilacs beside the lake, Spring 1958

St. Elizabeth School Spring 1958

St. Elizabeth School Spring 1958

* – Some of the other memories associated with Sykes High School

Being introduced to the evils of cigarettes (at least, cigarette butts) inside the merry-go-round on the school grounds (it had something of a wooden frame inside, and some slats were missing and we could get inside). Dad almost caught we hoodlums once. My career as a smoker was very short. He caught me later that same summer. Thanks, Dad!

Waiting for mandatory shots for athletics in the fall of 1957. Somebody suggested that the doctor inside had a square needle. Of course, that was crazy, but the suggestion was persuasive.

In 1957-58 there were huge surpluses of dairy products and entire pounds of butter were often on the lunchroom table. One of us had a prodigious appetite for butter. Either he got over it, or he has major defenses against cholesterol!

Seeing in a closet in the third floor west classroom a bunch of bound volumes of the early history newspapers from Sykeston. I hope they were given to the North Dakota Historical Society.

Trying to do printing on the mimeograph machine in the office. It was hideous. I empathize with those young scholars who tried to do the 1968 school newspaper that is linked earlier in this post.

“Zoo period” – the big study hall every afternoon, which Mr. Hanson tried to supervise. To my recollection, I never participated (fear, mostly). Some of the guilty will remember. I’ve come to have admiration for Mr. Hanson (who you’ll see pictured on the last page of the 1958 Hiawatha). I often wonder about him.

Henry and Esther Bernard
by Dick Bernard, May 4, 2013
I knew Henry and Esther as Dad and Mom, and from grades 8-12, as my “teacher”. Other readers of this piece who knew them will have a different context: teacher, neighbor, St. Elizabeth’s….. Together, they had 14 annual contracts teaching in the Sykeston High School from 1945-51 and again 1957-61.

Dad (1907-97) was his adult height, 6’3″, when he was in 8th grade in Grafton ND. That was near giant size about 1920. But to my knowledge, he never participated in sports. Likely reason was flat feet. At times, including Sykeston, he had to coach, probably solely because nobody else would or could. He always enjoyed sports. But coaching sports wasn’t his thing.

He was always religious – his best childhood friend became a Monsignor, and he’d likely have become a Priest if Latin hadn’t been so difficult. I never knew he – or Mom – to be pushy about religious beliefs with others, or with us after we left home. But back then, religion could be serious business, whatever your “brand”. One brand of “Christian” was not always very “Christian” with other brands. Then it was socially respectable, a usual practice, for one Christian religion to have not much to do with another.

Today it still happens, but is more covert, but in some ways far more dangerous than the intolerance was, then. Whenever one labels a group as being the problem (“Jews”, “Japs”, “Muslims”, etc.) there is potential for trouble.

To the end of his long life, Dad was bookish. He had both a Masters in Education and an Administrative Credential from University of North Dakota. He was a lifelong learner.

I seem to recall that during 1957-58 in Sykeston he was on a multi-year project to read the biographies of all the U.S. Presidents (Eisenhower was President, then). He’d get the books from the State Library in Bismarck. I never asked if he’d finished his project, but my guess is that he did. He was disciplined that way.

When at the end of July, 1949, the barn roof blew down at Mom’s parents farm near LaMoure – we were there at the time, a couple of hundred feet away – Dad stayed and helped rebuild the roof – a huge task. This was during our Sykeston years. My uncle Vince, now 88, still remembers Dad’s help.

Particularly after Mom died (1981), Dad became a very active volunteer, tutoring Hispanic kids in English at the school across the street from their home in San Benito TX. He did many other volunteer things as well.

Mom (1909-81) was my teacher in 8th grade, out at Ross in 1953-54 (Ross is in the midst of todays oil fields, and was then as well). She taught grades 7 and 8 and I have good memories of her as a teacher. Brother John, then of Kindergarten age in the time before Kindergarten was common, spent the day in the classroom with the rest of us.

She once recalled that as a youngster she had something of a dream to be a salesman. Yes salesMAN. She was enthusiastic. Her cheers stood out at basketball games.

She, too, was religious. They came to Sykeston in large part because St. Elizabeth school was there. In 1946 I started First Grade. All of we kids spent several grades at St. Elizabeth.

All in all, I thought Mom and Dad were pretty good partners. We were kept on a short leash and had our home chores. In my day, a 9:00 curfew was the norm.

Moving on: To be a teacher in those “good old days” was to be insecure. Between my birth and youngest brother John’s graduation from high school – 26 years – we made ten moves, two of them to Sykeston, two away from Sykeston.

We kids were accustomed to unanticipated moves. For our parents, sometimes the move was an undesired reality; at others, there seemed to be a better opportunity in another town. Available and adequate housing was often an issue. More than once, housing was far less than adequate.

I’ve done a great deal of family history over the years, and in some papers I found a letter from my Dad dated early April, 1990, responding to a question I had asked about the first move from Sykeston (1945-51) to Karlsruhe (1951-53). In relevant part he said this: “When I was not rehired in Sykeston, I did not know what to do. Apparently Father Sommerfeld [Sykeston pastor and immigrant from Germany] and Father Zimmerman [another native German Priest in nearly 100% German-Russian Karlsruhe] were good friends and Father Sommerfeld suggested that I apply for the school in Karlsruhe. One Saturday morning I drove to Karlsruhe to inquire. I was filled with doubts. When I got to the road that led to Karsruhe, north of Drake, I stopped the car, got out and wondered, should I go on or turn back home? I did go on. Don’t know whether I talked to Father Zimmerman first or a school board member, but apparently things worked out all right. I remember that on the way back to Sykeston that I picked up a couple of discarded automobile tires as we were still in need of the furnace at Sykeston….”

(Our Sykeston home, then, was the most northern house in town. Later Gartners lived there. The house has since burned down.)

After six years in three other places (Karlsruhe, Ross and Antelope Consolidated near Mooreton), we returned to Sykeston in 1957. I graduated from Sykes High in 1958; Mary Ann graduated in 1960.

Dad was again non-renewed in Sykeston at the end of the 1960-61 year, and the family moved to Tolley, where Florence and Frank graduated (1962 and 1963); thence to Tolna, where John graduated in 1966.

The early 1960s seems to have been a stressful community time in Sykeston and this seems to have had some impact on Dad’s employment. I was in college the last three years of their teaching in Sykeston, and almost never came home, so I don’t recall any talk about why the next non-renewal took place.

The Sykeston 1983 Centennial History says the addition to the high school was built in 1959 during Dad’s second four years at Sykeston. This apparently is in error. The addition was built after Bernard’s left in 1961. Assorted stresses may have related to changes at St. Elizabeth’s (the Centennial History says that “the only lay [non-Nun] teacher in the school’s history, was employed in 1961-62″ – a really big deal).

Growth of high school age population due to the post WWII Baby Boom, resulting in the need for a bond referendum to build an addition to the public school was doubtless a major factor as well. Even by then, likely, some elders knew that behind the baby boom was decline. Why build a new school that won’t be necessary in a few years? It would be a reasonable question, just like, these days, a reasonable debate in Sykeston may well be how to treat this venerable old building, essentially unused for the last eight years? It is a difficult question.

One of my siblings recalls that about 1961 the issue of religious tensions loomed a little more important than usual in Sykeston. I don’t know that. Mom and Dad apparently chose to move on rather than challenge the dismissal, as some community members had encouraged.

I spent an entire career in public education and I know that schools are more than anything else cauldrons of relationships, positive and not so positive, and things do happen as school boards change, etc.

It takes a thick skin and luck and lots of political savvy to survive very long as a Superintendent of Schools, given changes in school boards, etc. There are, annually, unpopular decisions to be made. And mistakes are made, too.

In addition to my parents, I had two uncles and three aunts who were teachers, a number of them career, all beginning in North Dakota. The stories of employment instability were all similar. If the annual contract was not renewed for whatever reason, the only choice was to move on. I have said frequently over the years that teachers were truly public Servants (with a capital S). It was just how it was. I don’t think that many community members, anywhere, gave this much of of a thought.

Nonetheless, of all the places that we lived, I think all of we Bernard’s, including our parents, would agree that Sykeston was as close to a home town as we ever had, and we remember it as such.

And that is good!

Have a great reunion and remembering!

Favorite photo of Henry Bernard visiting Sykeston August, 1970

Favorite photo of Henry Bernard visiting Sykeston August, 1970

Related: My story about Sykeston days written in June, 2008 can be viewed here. Also, a post published Friday, May 3, here; and another published Sunday, May 5, which is here. All are related very directly to reminiscing about Sykeston days.

I’m sure the Sykeston Committee would like to hear from you. Here’s the contact page.

Dick with son-in-law and two of nine grandkids, Orlando, March 23, 2013

Dick with son-in-law and two of nine grandkids, Orlando, March 23, 2013

#714 – Dick Bernard: The Youngers restore my hope.

Friday, May 3rd, 2013

Today was the 10th annual Diversity Day at Jefferson High School in Bloomington MN. I’ve been to the last six. Today did not have the annual outdoor fun-run between Jefferson and rival Kennedy due to inclement weather. Snow in May is not impossible here, but it is unusual. It was unpleasant enough to force most activities indoors, but not enough to dampen spirits.

Being in the presence of enthusiastic kids is like an elixir.

It is nice to see a society of kids at their functional best.

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Rededicating Thomas Jefferson High School as a Peace Site May 3, 2013

Rededicating Thomas Jefferson High School as a Peace Site May 3, 2013

Inside, there was an alternative run around Jefferson’s ample indoor track. Everyone could participate. You can see my the smile on the young lady’s face, that she was glad she could make the rounds with the rest of the students who wished.

A special abilities student participating in the May 3 indoor run.

A special abilities student participating in the May 3 indoor run.

Out in the commons area, 42 student groups sponsored and staffed tables about their particular special interest. Damon Cermak (below) did a more than capable job of representing his Mdewakanton Sioux Indian heritage. Like most young Americans Damon has multiple ethnic heritages. His include Czech and French-Canadian, along with Native American.

Down the commons, another group of students were doing some kind of dance improv, and having a great time, a real credit to their school.

Damon Cermak tells the story of his roots.

Damon Knight tells the story of his roots.

A group of students dance in the commons area.

A group of students dance in the commons area.

Students of French display about things French.

Students of French display about things French.

World Citizen display table.  (peacesites.org)

World Citizen display table. (peacesites.org)

Walking around I came across a table I had not seen in previous years.

White American table

White American table

The table was staffed by a couple of boys, and attracted a fair amount of interest from, as best as I could tell, only other boys who were curious. It was a simple table: an NRA hat, some pictures like Iwo Jima and Ronald Reagan, that sort of thing.

One of the boys had a guitar.

There was a certain irony in this new entry into this years Diversity Days conversation, I thought. Best as I could determine, the table was by and about White American Men, or at least a subset of those men who are angry and terrified of losing control to various “others”, like “minorities”, or “women” or such.

White American Men (I’m one of these) have controlled things so long, that it is hard for some of them to become part of the entire fabric that is contemporary America. This year at Jefferson they seem to have joined the other “minorities” that make up the rich American “stew” – though my guess is they didn’t perceive their new position that way.

But that “White American” table, along with the others representing other cultures and beliefs, was totally in keeping with the rich diversity that is America. White American Men are part of, not dominant over, the rest.

Before leaving I decided to go to the all-school assembly program for Diversity Day.

The speaker was Jane Elliott, 58 years married, wearing a T-shirt she says she always wears while speaking “Prejudice is an emotional commitment to ignorance.”

She’s very well known, for many years, and is a spell-binding and powerful speaker. The assassination of Martin Luther King April 4, 1968, changed her life as a third grade teacher.

A tall white man, school administrator, and a female student of African descent were her “props”, and she used them extremely effectively.

In only a few minutes she powerfully took on and effectively many stereotypes and prejudices we hold dear.

Walking out the door to the parking lot I went past the Peace Pole I had photographed earlier in the day.

The side I photo’ed had “May Peace Prevail on Earth” in Vietnamese.

It all seemed to fit.

Just a couple of days earlier, my friend Lynn Elling, who had earlier talked at the rededication at Jefferson, had returned from a two week trip to Vietnam with the Vietnamese son, Tod, who the Ellings adopted 43 years ago.

Tod is as American as any of us.

Diversity is all of us.

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#713 – Dick Bernard: Some thoughts after World Law Day, May 1, 2013

Thursday, May 2nd, 2013

About 40 of us gathered at the Gandhi Mahal Retaurant last evening, May 1, to Reflect On World Peace Through Law.

The event was one of those that just came together; in this case, less than three weeks. Law Day has been a part of the American tradition since at least 1958, when President Eisenhower proclaimed it, and in fact Law Day was made part of U.S. Law in 1961.

Of course, May 1 has many different emphases:

There is the annual May Day Parade in South Minneapolis, both serious and whimsical – we often attend: (This year it is Sunday May 5). I highly recommend it.

As a Catholic kid in the 1940s, I remember May Day for May Baskets, and “Mary, Queen of the May”; May Day is a long-time international Labor Day. In the Communist days in the USSR and the Soviet bloc, May Day was a day to parade out military hardware in huge parades….

I suppose someone knows exactly why President Eisenhower proclaimed Law Day for May 1, 1958. My personal speculation is that the proclamation had something to do with the successful launch of Sputnik by the USSR in October, 1957. There needed to be a counter to the Soviet May Day.

Whatever the reasons, competing themes give an opportunity to fight over what May Day is or should be…

The May 1 event I was part of was an opportunity to reflect on World Law and its relationship to Peace.

As best as I can tell “World Law Day” has been a particularly Twin Cities interpretation of Law Day (and a most relevant interpretation).

May 1, 2013 evolved into an opportunity to honor the contributions of our elders who possess much accumulated wisdom.

World Law Day was formally celebrated in Minneapolis-St. Paul from at least 1964 through 1996, and was largely the creation of several persons, including Lynn Elling. (page four of the 2013 program has a timeline: Law Day Prog May 1 2013001

David Brink (93) former President of the American Bar Association was our speaker May 1; an impromptu decision was made to call the event the “1st Annual Lynn and Donna Elling Symposium on World Peace Through Law.” Donna passed away in June, 2011, but Lynn, at 92, was there, less than 24 hours returned from two weeks in Vietnam with his adopted Vietnamese son, Tod.

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Lynn Elling May 1, 2013.

Lynn Elling May 1, 2013.

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Elder Rev. Lyle Christianson introduced Mr. Brink; Rev. Lowell Erdahl and Joe Schwartzberg, other prominent elders in the peace and justice community were in attendance, and an in-preparation film about World Citizen Garry Davis, 92, and ailing was screened after the event.

If there is to be a “2nd Annual” World Law Event on May 1, 2014 (it’s a Thursday), will depend on the interest of those who attended May 1, and others whose interest may have been stimulated by two commentaries in the May 1, Minneapolis Star Tribune. The commentaries, by Joe Schwartzberg and Jim Nelson, lay out the history and in effect the case for a continuing World Law Day.

Take the time to not only read the commentaries, but to add your own comment. And get active.

Where do you stand?

And if you’re a Twin Citian, consider giving Gandhi Mahal some of your business. They are serious about community orientation (and an excellent restaurant, too!)

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#711 – Dick Bernard: Disabling the Winning Formula, working to change the usual conversation

Wednesday, April 24th, 2013

Last Friday my second post about the aftermath of the Boston Marathon came shortly after the identity of the suspects in the bombings were given faces and names.

Subsequent there have been tens of thousands of words about, especially, the one surviving suspect in the case, a true-blue young “Caucasian” (white, in other words), from the very region which gives Caucasian its name. The indicted young man has a funny name. While a naturalized citizen he’s an immigrant, a Moslem from a Moslem country. And his brother, now deceased, went to Russia at some point for reasons as yet unknown, but feverishly speculated about.

The tragedy is no longer the story. The alleged perpetrators provide endless spin especially for earnest sounding politicians and the media. The blather is constant.

The Boston Marathon tragedy has been reduced to digestible sound bites, depending on the desired message and audience: “MOSLEM”, “MOTHERS SONS”, “IMMIGRANT”, “FRIEND”, “CHECHEN”, U.S. CITIZEN, etc.

Words are dispensed to humanize, or de-humanize, persons. Are they of our “tribe” or theirs?

So, while the brothers are white, there is a desire to taint them by geography, by possible association, and on and on.

What is happening in this case is not new, of course.

However dangerous, “us vs them” is politically useful and has a very long history. The reach of all forms of media now makes it more dangerous than ever.

Sunday, at Catholic Mass, the first reading (which is required in every Catholic Church) was from ACTS 13:14, 43-52, in which “The Jews…stirred up a persecution against Paul and Barnabas, and expelled them from their territory.” The reading is here: 1 Acts 13001

It bothered me to hear that Epistle (it comes once every three years) since I thought my Catholic Church was getting past labeling the Jews in its official narrative.

The Bible is a big book, and there are plenty of choices of readings. Why this one?

Fourteen years ago, April 26, 2000, we were among 40 Jews and Christians on a “Millennium Pilgrimage of Hope” which led us to places where Christianity truly went off the rails: places like Auschwitz-Birkenau and Terezin and Plaskow (the locale of the film “Shindler’s List.)

To say ours was an intense two weeks was an understatement: Christian and Jews together at the very places of some of the worst horrors of the Holocaust.

Back home, some months later, one of the Jews on the trip sent a review of a book on Oberammergau Passion Play (“Hitler’s favorite passion play…” which had its own impact. You can read the review here: Oberammergau001

Some years earlier, on the 60th anniversary of the first Atom bomb at Hiroshima, I had occasion to write a column for the Minneapolis Star Tribune about my grandmother Rosa’s reaction to the bombing of Hiroshima and then Nagasaki.

Rosa was a saintly kind of woman, and her reaction to the bombs was “Hurrah, the old war is over!” At the time, she had a son on a Destroyer in the Pacific theatre; a son-in-law who’d been killed at Pearl Harbor; a nephew next farm over who was a Marine officer in the Pacific; and a neighbor who had been killed in combat “over there”.

For her, the war had become very personal.

I wrote in the column that to Grandma, and most of our American “tribe” I would guess, “the war was very personal, in the person of their brother, their son, their nephew, their neighbor; those on the other side were simply “the Japs”.” (The column can be read here: Atomic Bomb 1945001

If we care about the future of our “kind”, which is humanity itself, wherever these humans live, we best learn to become a world community and reject the attempts to blanket label others and threaten war at every real or imagined time of crisis.

We need to deal with criminal behavior as just that: criminal behavior.

There was never a good time for war; today, the time for war is truly past.

#710 – Dick Bernard: “The First Rough Draft of History”

Friday, April 19th, 2013

UPDATE April 20 5:30 a.m.: This overnite post from Just Above Sunset sums the situation in Boston and America as well as anything I’ve read. It is long, but well worth reading. Just Above Sunset, by a blogger in Hollywood, is always worth reading.

*

Back in the summer of 1997, I was visiting the Air and Space Museum on the National Mall in DC. A shuttle bus pulled up, offering free rides to a new facility across the river in Rosslyn called the Newseum. Admission was free, and the place was interesting.

It was there I first saw the quotation about news being “the first rough draft of history“.

Lots of history has been rough drafted since then, and in fact, two of my grandsons just visited the Newseum on a recent field trip to DC.

I think of my fascinating visit that day, and a later visit to the same place a few years later, as the media is diving into the latest developments in Boston, and in West, Texas (site of the huge explosion with apparently many deaths at a fertilizer plant.)

So…I was listening as two men were talking about the situations this morning. Apparently, there are many Czechs in West, Texas, so one person wondered if Czechoslovakia and Chechnya were one and the same. Wellllll…I mentioned the geographic distinction, and the fact that there is no longer a Czechoslovia (now Czech Republic and Slovakia). Oh…. Geography can be complicated.

Doing my exercise on the stationary bike, the television was tuned to Fox News, bringing the latest. The spin was obvious: Chechnya, Muslim, Russia….

And I could report on what CBS is spinning at this very moment, at 1 p.m. CDT.

No matter.

Perhaps the advice of the New Yorker’s Charles Pierce is best at this point. Here’s his post from this morning.

It’s helpful to find out a little about the place that will now become as familiar as the hanging chad a few years ago.

In time, there might come some common understandings and some reasonable perspectives…one hopes…on the part of most people.

It will be difficult.

Prior Post here:

#709 – Dick Bernard: The Boston Marathon

Tuesday, April 16th, 2013

Yesterday morning, before 9 a.m., I was at the gym exercising at my usual place. Behind me, visible in the mirror, were two women, exercising beside each other and quite loudly chatting.

One of them mentioned to the other that her husband was in Boston, running the Marathon, checking in from time to time.

A few hours later I heard the news of the bombs at the finish line at the Marathon. This probably changed the woman’s conversation. Perhaps I’ll read in the Woodbury MN news something about this today or maybe next week…. Such is how communication goes these days. Instant and worldwide.

I got to thinking about two happenings in my own life.

Back on April 20, 1999, I was in the car on the freeway in north Minneapolis when I heard that there had been shooting at a school in Littleton, Colorado.

Littleton. That was where my son and family lived.

Soon enough, I learned my granddaughter, then 13 and in Middle School, was safe. No cell phones then. It was via e-mail.

I tried to find where Columbine high school was on the then-version of Mapquest. The school location on the map was misplaced, I soon learned. My son and family, it turned out, lived only a mile from the high school, and later he said he probably had seen the two killers the previous day in a local McDonalds restaurant – just three of the customers at that time, that day.

But in those days, communications was not quite so convenient or instant (though it was pretty good.) There were cell phones of a sort, but not ubiquitous like now. There was cable, but not hundreds of stations vying on the competitive edge for news. I don’t think I was thinking, then, about what has since become something of a mantra for me: “too many news people, too little news.”

Then I thought back further, to December 7, 1941, when my Uncle – Dad’s brother – went down with the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor.

I was alive then, just 1 1/2, so I didn’t pay much attention.

Dad told me about his memories of that awful time years later. They didn’t know for certain that his brother, Frank Bernard, had died until some weeks later. The time was so chaotic that I don’t think there was even an organized Memorial Service for Frank. His parent were in Long Beach for the winter and had no car (they traveled by train, then), his sister in Los Angeles, and his brother in rural North Dakota. Making even a phone call was not a routine matter. No television. Less radio. The news coming via newspaper – I have the clippings.

We tend to forget that.

And now we are besieged for hours upon hours by repetitive images of the same exact thing; by speculation by experts about who done it, and why it was done. Everybody with their own agenda for communicating whatever it is they choose to communicate.

We’re a big country, and such incidents will happen from time to time.

We used to worry about the Russians bombing our school in central North Dakota in the 1950s; now, well you know….

We need to get a grip and keep things in a bit better perspective.

It was bad, what happened in Boston, yesterday.

As a city and as a nation and as a world we’ll survive it.

We really have it pretty good, here.

#706 – Dick Bernard: Meeting the Space Age, up close

Monday, April 1st, 2013

I suppose the space age began for me sometime in late October or November, 1957.

We were visiting my grandparents at their farm in south central North Dakota, and the Fargo Forum had published the expected track of the Russian satellite Sputnik, which had been launched October 4, 1957, igniting the space race and intensifying the Cold War of those good old days.

Right on schedule, and on the exact predicted course, Sputnik appeared to all of us gathered on the lawn of the farm house under the dark star-laden country sky – at least you could tell it from the stars as it “blinked” on and off as it tumbled across the heavens, reflecting the sun earthward.

The rest is, as they say, history.

And what started as Cape Canaveral and became Cape Kennedy, and then again became Cape Canaveral on which stood Kennedy Space Center, became famous for generations of ever bigger and more impressive rockets, triumphs and disasters.

I’d visited there with my then-13 year old son, Tom, in June, 1977.

And on March 13, 2013, I went back with 13 year old Grandson Ryan, and his friend Caleb, to once again do the tour of Kennedy Space Center. Here is a Facebook Snapshot Gallery taken on the day of our visit.

While there, I learned that there was to be a launch on April 19. I had never seen a launch, and as it evolved, I was visiting a relative perhaps 30 miles down the coast, and excused myself to go north for the launch of an Air Force Atlas, watching it from the Indian River-side property of my friends the Brady’s. They’ve watched launches from their property since the early 1980s.

March 20, 2013, was my first.

I would like to say the launch was an amazingly impressive sight – the launch I saw – but it was not very dramatic. We saw liftoff at 5:20 p.m., and my snapshot is essentially the view that those without binoculars had from the Brady’s.

You had to be attentive for the telltale speck of light off on the horizon. My host knew about where it would launch, which helped.

(click to enlarge – look for the orange dot near the horizon!)

Launch March 19, 2013

Launch March 19, 2013

We watched liftoff till the evidence of the vehicle disappeared, which seemed to be more or less the time that the first sound waves reached us, a minute later. This meant we were about 12 miles from the launch pad.

The last photo before the launch vehicle disappeared from sight.

The last photo before the launch vehicle disappeared from sight.

The more astute observers got a closer view, as reflected in the below photo on the front page of Florida Today Newspaper on March 20. You can see the video behind the photo on the Florida Today website, here.

There can be endless debate about the space program, and the purpose of this particular launch; whether it was a waste a money, or a vehicle for good…or for evil….

For me, it was rather exciting to actually see this one launch, probably the only launch I will ever actually see in person in my lifetime.

Photo from FloridaToday.com March 20, 2013

Photo from FloridaToday.com March 20, 2013

For more on the U.S. space program, a good “launching” place is the NASA website, here.

Equally interesting, in the same area and enviroment, is the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge, one of America’s finest. In a sense, at least, wildlife and high technology seem to co-exist just fine.