Mankato mag 5 18

KOOL KOUNTRY Erik Koskinen sets up shop in downtown Cleveland

Are you ready for the

FISHING OPENER? Essay by

DEANNA NARVESON Meet Valley Veggies’

TERRI ANDERSON Erik Koskinen MAY 2018

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2 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

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F EATUR ES MAY 2018 Volume 13, Issue 5

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Koskinen

He’s moved both his work and his life from the Twin Cities to southern Minnesota. And now Erik Koskinen feels right at home.

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Gone fishin’

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Southern Minnesota is a fishing hot-spot.

We caught up with a few anglers itchin’ to get out there on the opener.

Fish out of water

When Deanna Narveson made the leap from Texas to Minnesota, she knew it’d be a challenge. She didn’t know she’d grow to actually like the place.

ABOUT THE COVER For some reason, Erik Koskinen just looks cooler in black and white, right?

He was photographed in his Cleveland studio by Pat Christman.

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 3

DEPARTMENTS 6 From the Editor 8 Faces & Places 12 This Day in History 13 The Gallery

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Kimberly Baerg

14 Beyond the Margin Cold & bold 16 Familiar Faces Terri (Morse) Anderson 30 Day Trip Destinations

The Aldo Leopold Legacy Center in Baraboo, WI

32 Then & Now Lorin Cray

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35 Food, Drink & Dine 36 Food

May baskets

38 Wine

Ode to spring

39 Beer Spring releases 40 That’s Life Shopping for glasses

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42 Garden Chat Cukes 44 Your Style Prom trends!

Is not how this column turned out

46 Coming Attractions 48 From This Valley Grandma Jenny

Coming in June

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If it’s June, then it’s drum and bugle corps season in Minnesota.

THE TIMES CHANGING...

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By Robb Murray MAY 2018 • VOLUME 13, ISSUE 5 PUBLISHER

Steve Jameson

EDITOR Joe Spear ASSOCIATE Robb Murray EDITOR CONTRIBUTORS Nell Musolf Pete Steiner Jean Lundquist Leigh Pomeroy Bert Mattson Leticia Gonzales Ann Rosenquist Fee Bryce O. Stenzel James Figy Amanda Dyslin Brian Arola Deanna Narveson PHOTOGRAPHERS Pat Christman Jackson Forderer PAGE DESIGNER

Christina Sankey

ADVERTISING Joan Streit SALES Jordan Greer-Friesz Josh Zimmerman Marianne Carlson Theresa Haefner ADVERTISING Barb Wass ASSISTANT ADVERTISING Sue Hammar DESIGNERS Christina Sankey CIRCULATION Justin Niles DIRECTOR

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6 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

Country appreciation I

know this sounds weird, but some of the most indelible musical memories of my childhood took place on long rides to our northern Wisconsin cabin in the cab of my dad’s pickup truck — laying across the seat with my legs on my mom’s lap and my head on my dad’s.

Usually, the drive to a n d f ro m a destination like this is the worst part.

But for me …

I kind of liked the drive. Lap napping for a kid is always a sweet gig. But the biggest reason, for me, was the soundtrack.

My dad drove a brown ( Ǖ \ 0 Ǖ ŕ Ǖǎ\ ļ

extra, which my dad reportedly insisted on, was a cassette player.

And we only had a handful of \ 3 Ǖ ű \ + I’d completely and totally fallen in love with the few we had.

These long car rides are gave me the opportunity to soak in country music, especially Waylon Jennings. (Given the choice between Waylon or Willie, I fall squarely in the Waylon camp.)

My dad had purchased Waylon’s g re a t e s t h i t s a l b u m , w h i c h includes the megahits “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys,” “Luckenbach, Texas,” “Good Hearted Woman” and, my personal favorite, “Are You Sure Hank Done it This Way.” He’d also bought Jennings’ album, “The Outlaws” — which includes Nelson, Jessi Colter and

Tompall Glaser — and the Eagles’ greatest hits album.

Cruising up I-35 to Hinckley, we’d grab some caramel rolls at Toby’s and head east into Wisconsin. Deep into territory with towering pines and crystalclear lakes. As I grew older and started bringing friends with me, we’d bring our own music. George Thorogood, Prince, early hip-hop, ACDC and whatever sounded good around

ű Ǖ S’mores and stolen wine coolers.

But the musical foundation for those weekends was always Waylon. And when I think about those times, the soundtrack sounds a lot like “Luckenbach, Texas.”

This month in Mankato Magazine, we’ve got a special treat for you. Erik Koskinen, whose name you’ve no doubt seen on advertisements at live music venues (or maybe you’ve got one or more of his albums; if so, good for you,) agreed to sit down with us and show us around his new recording studio up the road in Cleveland.

Koskinen’s sound is an example of everything that’s right with country music. His songwriting is honest, his musicianship masterful, his melodies

\

ű right in next to Waylon and Don Henley on those long car rides to Webb Lake, Wis.

Check that one out. I think you’re gonna love it.

Elsewhere in this month’s issue, we’ve got a great essay for

ǔ ! . Ű Ǖ Deanna Narveson, who came to us two years ago from, speaking of country music, the Lone 0 \ ű ŕ ŕ ŕ observations have always been entertaining to us northerners.

And now, just as she’s about to leave us to head back south, she shares a touching essay on the hardships of picking up your life and heading to a place that, while part of the same country in which she grew up, seems like a world away from home.

And with the fishing opener coming this month, writer Brian Arola checks in with area anglers who can’t wait to get back on the lakes.

Robb Murray is associate editor of Mankato Magazine. Contact him at 344-6386 or rmurray@ mankatofreepress.com. Follow him on Twitter @freepressRobb.

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MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 7

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GREATER MANAKTO GROWTH ANNUAL MEETING 1. Groups socialize before the “Takin’ Care of Business” Meeting begins.

2. Jonathan Zierdt (left), congratulates Tami Paulsen (center), Julia Corbett (right), and Rob Else (not pictured) as they are regognized as members of outstanding service.

3. GMG gold member, Chastity Valvick of Consolidated Communications, listens to the board of directors as it addresses topics for the upcoming year.

4. Jodie Hermer, after accepting her Volunteer of the Year Award, speaks on the importance of volunteering.

5. John Hemstock is presented with the Volunteer of the Year Award.

6. President/CEO, Jonathan Zierdt discusses the future of GMG.

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YWCA WOMEN OF DISTINCTION BUf a 1. The biggest turnout since 1973 fills the Verizon Center at the Women of Distinction Banquet.

2. (From left to right) Wesley Otto, Dana Sikkila, Kat Mast and Jordan Powers.

3. Chloe Aanenson’s speech earned her a standing ovation.

4. A packed audience enjoys a sit-down meal before the evening speeches begin.

5. YWCA Mankato Executive Director, Darb Dorn, highlights the honorees on stage.

6. Eleven-year-old Chloe Aanenson (Youngest Women of Distinction) gives her speech in front of a sold-out audience.

7. Melissa Bradley (Young Women of Distinction).

8. Dr. Caroline Baerg of the Mankato Clinic gives.

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FATHER DAUGHTER DANCE 1. Don and Zandra Waibel share some frozen yogurt before hitting the dance floor again.

2. Lauren and Justin Jenness spend quality time together at the Father-Daughter dance.

3. Mark Lancaster makes dancing with his two daughters, Coraline and Eleanor, look fun.

4. Nick and Alley Shouts take a break from the dancing to eat some desserts.

5. With a full event provided by the Mankato Community Education, the dance floor was busy.

6. Nate Kube and his daughter Tessa enjoy many twirls around the dance floor.

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Faces & Places: Photos By SPX Sports

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE IN ST. PETER 1. It was not just people enjoying the beautiful weather at the parade; dogs dressed in green, too.

2. Sunshine accompanied a great turnout at this year’s St. Patrick’s Day parade.

3. Onlookers waved at the passing parade.

4. Adam Despres, with his son Rylan, enjoyed the beautiful weather.

5. Grace Smith (Miss Shamrock), Lauren Gaudreau (Miss Leprechaun), Mackenzie O’Connell (Miss Irish Rose) and Olivia McCabe wave to the crowd.

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MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 11

Providing Great Color at a Great Price!

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By Jean Lundquist Tuesday, May 10, 1960 Sibley Park Zoo A young mountain goat is the only new resident of the Sibley Park Zoo this year. He was born a month ago, and joins five other mountain goats. The zoo will open just as soon as the park warms up, according to the park superintendent, Oliver Moyer. He explains the zoo usually opens May 1. He says two donkeys and three buffalo will arrive “when the time comes.”

Thursday, May 2, 1963 Between Us, by Franklin Rogers It gives you a good feeling all over when a fellow like Vern Lundin gets a community service award like that which the Mankato Exchange Club gave him last night for his golden deeds. Here is a citizen who has no real deep need to do what Lundin has done, except to be helpful to others. His Job doesn’t require it, his future doesn’t depend on it, and he has no strong tradition to thrust him into the public spotlight. Yet, for more than 30 years, he has gone about unobtrusively doing good deeds, making him the kind of citizen you’d like to have for a friend or a neighbor.

Tuesday, May 12, 1981 St. James Lake restrictions vetoed Recreational use of St. James Lake should not be restricted, the city council decided at a special meeting last night. Only seven area residents attended the hearing. The city was considering banning motor vehicles on the ice except snowmobiles and vehicles used to pull ice houses onto the lake. The ban would have restricted snowmobiles to the northern half of the lake and limited motor vehicles to 15 mph — except snowmobiles — and banned water skiing. The city has been dredging the lake, and right now, it’s described as a big weed bed.

Friday, May 26, 1967 Morton area notes UFO More than a dozen young people and adults reported seeing an unidentified flying object in the Morton-Franklin area, and the aviation flight service station at the Redwood Falls airport had no explanation for it. It was a very bright white light with two flashing red lights, according to Eugene Longstrom, who was returning from a teenage dance at Morton with several other young people. A number of others in the area also reported seeing the object. A spokesman at the airport in Redwood Falls said they would appreciate getting immediate notification of such sightings so it can be immediately relayed to the military section in Denver that is assigned to check on such sightings.

Longstrom said the object travelled very fast. He admitted to being a bit frightened.

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Saturday, May 1, 1937 Here and there in southern Minnesota Sit-in strike fever has reached Easton. Boys employed at the roller skating arena, inspired by the success of the C.I.O. in Detroit and other areas, refused to don skates unless their pay was raised. Several other youngsters, eager for a job, took over the situation, and so far as is known, the sit-downers are still sitting.

••• The weeks most “freakish accident occurred at Tracy in a grocery store. A clerk at the store was knocked unconscious when a No. 2 can of tomatoes dropped from the top shelf and struck him in the head. The nature of his dreams has not been revealed, but likely when he awoke, he likely asked if the robbers got away.

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Here are just a few of Kim Baerg’s puppet creations.

Puppet Master

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Lake Washington 14 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

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By Joe Spear

A long winter in context W

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a¨ ʼ ô ã¨ Ø « Ãʰã ÜãÊÕ ÊèØ úÊèâ Õ ÊÕ¼ ¡ØÊÂ Â Ø ¨«Ã¢ à ô ¼¹«Ã¢ Êèã Ê¡ 㨠«Ø ¼ ÜÜ Ü Êà A Ø ¨ ȺȽʃ ãÊ Ê ÂÊØ ã 㨠Êà ÂÊÃ㨠Ãëó ØÜ Øú Ê¡ 㨠¹«¼¼«Ã¢ Ê¡ Ⱥɀ Õ ÊÕ¼ ã ¨«¢¨ Ü ¨Êʼ «Ã "¼ÊØ« ʈ a¨ ú Â Ø ¨ Ü«¼ Ãã¼ú «Ã Zãʈ S ã Ø Ã ÜãÊÊ ¢Ø ¡è¼¼ú «Ã 㨠ʼ ¡ÊØ Ⱥɀ «Ãèã Üʃ «Ãèã ¡ÊØ ¨ Ê¡ 㨠Ⱥɀ ¹«¼¼ ʈ HÃ Ê Ü Øó Ø Ü Ø« ã¨ Â Ü ʭ «¢Ã«ă ʮ Ü ã¨ ú ʭÜãÊÊ ¼¡ Õ «Ã ÜÃÊô ¨Ê¼ «Ã¢ Ü«¢ÃÜʮ ãÊ ã¨ Ü« Ê¡ 㨠ô ¼¹ ÜÊ Ê㨠ØÜ Êè¼ ô ¼¹ Ã Ø ʈ ̎​̎​̎ a¨ A«Ãà ÜÊã Õ Øã Ãã Ê¡ B ãèØ ¼ V ÜÊèØ Ü Ü úÜ ã¨ ó Ø ¢ « Êèã ¡ÊØ A «ÜÊà ; ¹ «Ü ÕØ«¼ ȿʈ r ô«¼¼ ¼Êâ Õ Üã 㨠ã ã ã¨«Ü ú Øʃ à ô ô«¼¼ ¼«¹ ¼ú ¨ ¼¼ â ã¨ Ø ÊØ ʃ ô¨« ¨ ô Ü ÕØ«¼ ȼȹʃ ȺɂȻɂʈ a¨ "Ø SØ ÜÜ ô ã¨ Ø Õ ¢ ܨÊôÜ ¨ ã«Ã¢ ¢Ø úÜ ã¨ØÊ袨 ÕØ«¼ Ƚ ô Ø ɀʃȹȾɀʃ ܼ«¢¨ã¼ú Êó 㨠ÃÊØ ¼ ɀʃȹȺɂʃ èã ¡ Ø ¨ Ê¡ ¼ Üã ú ØʰÜ ȾʃɁɀȿʈ ) ã«Ã¢ ¢Ø úÜ Ø Ã «Ã ù Ê¡ à آú ÊÃÜèÂÕã«Êà ¡ÊØ úÜ ô¨ à 㨠 à ã ÂÕ Ø ãèØ ¡ ¼¼ ¼Êô ȿȾ ¢Ø Üʈ ȻȹȺɀ à ȻȹȺȿ ô Ø Âè ¨ ãã Ø ãÊ èÜʈ a¨ ¢Ê¼¡ ÊèØÜ Ü ô Ø ÊÕ Ã ú « ʢ A Ø ¨ʈ a¨«Ü ú Øʃ «ã ¼ÊÊ¹Ü ÂÊØ ¼«¹ 㨠à ʡ ÕØ«¼ʃ «¡ 㨠ãʈ Hüú AÊã¨ Ø B ãèØ Üã Ã Ü ãô à ¢Ê¼¡ ØÜ Ã ã¨ ăØÜã ã ʈ ¼¼ Ê¡ ã¨«Ü ôÊè¼ Ü Â ãÊ Ê «Ã ¡ÊØ Ø ã¨ Ø ÕØ Üܫâ à ʡ ô«Ãã Ø Ã Õ «Ã¡è¼ ¼ ú Ê¡ ÜÕثâʈ ¢ÊÊ Ã ôÜÕ Õ Ø ¨ à « à èØ ¡ÊØ ã¨ Ü ¹«Ã Ê¡ ô«Ãã ØÜʈ a¨ ú ãÊʹ 㨠«Ø ¡ØÊÃã Õ ¢ à èÜ «ã ãÊ ÕØ«Ãã 㨠Üãʃ ÜèÃë Üãʃ ÂÊÜã ÜèÂÂ Ø ¼«¹ Õ« ãèØ ã¨ ú Êè¼ ăà ãÊ ¨ Ø èÜ ¼¼ èÕʈ ,ãʰÜ ÃÊã « ʈ

Joe Spear is editor of Mankato Magazine. Contact him at jspear@mankatofreepress.com or 344-6382. Follow on Twitter @jfspear.

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 15

ĆŞĆĽĆąĆ­Ć°Ć­ĆĽĆ˜ ƪƼƧƊƜ ağźźĹ? Ë€AĹŹĹşĹžÄźË ĹŚÄ¸ÄźĹşĹžĹŹĹŚ ĆŚĆź ƼƹƼƲƨƼ ƨƟƜưƭƲ

Goodness from the valley #Ă˜Â—Ă´ ĂłÂ—Â˘Â˘ÂŤÂ—ĂœĘƒ ÂšÂŤÂ“Ăœ ÂŤĂƒ Â¨Â—Ă˜ Â˘Â Ă˜Â“Â—Ăƒ

P

art of what Terri Anderson loves about her land is the history. Her family’s property was one of the original Seppman homesteads. “The ground was broke in 1855. It was broke by my great-grandmother’s uncle. It’s been a working farm ever since,� said Anderson, adding that her family donated the land for Minneopa State Park.

The history adds even more meaning every spring when the soil is worked and weeded by Anderson and the many volunteers who help at her business, Valley Veggies.

Having started more than 20 years ago, the business was just a small trailer and canopy at the end of the driveway at first, offering melons, tomatoes and other produce. Now they have about a dozen acres of wideranging produce and plants to sell.

Valley Veggies is also starting all the plants for the Blue Earth County Community Farm this year. “We are so excited about the things going on here,�

Anderson said. “We can hardly wait to get started.�

Mankato Magazine: When you began Valley Veggies in 1997 as a small operation, did you intend to the grow the business into what it is today?

Terri Anderson: No! The main plan was to keep my children busy and out of trouble in the summers.

That was the main goal. Did I ever expect for it to grow to what it is now? No, that never even crossed my mind. ‌ It made sure (my children) had something to do.

I’m happy to report none of my children had broken bones. They never ended up in the hospital. And as we got going, they learned all kinds of things: how to make change, how to do customer service, how to get along with people, how to treat the elderly — skills to take with them onto future jobs.

As they got older, I encouraged them to find jobs off the farm so they could have more experiences in life.

16 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

Photos by Pat Christman

Name:

Terri (Morse) Anderson City of residence: VĂ¨Ă˜Â Âź ; š— Ă˜ĂşĂœĂŁÂ Âź Job title: HĂ´ĂƒÂ—Ă˜ ĂŠÂĄ q ŸŸ—ú qÂ—Â˘Â˘ÂŤÂ—Ăœ Brief work history: Â—ÂźÂŤĂłÂ—Ă˜ÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ÂŤÂ?— ÂĄĂŠĂ˜ Ă‚Ăş Ă•Â Ă˜Â—ĂƒĂŁĂœĘ° ÂŒĂ¨ĂœÂŤĂƒÂ—ĂœĂœ 7Ă¨Â“ĂœĂŠĂƒ q ŸŸ—ú ĂƒĂŁÂ—Ă˜Ă•Ă˜ÂŤĂœÂ—ĂœĘƒ Â“Ă˜ÂŤĂłÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ĂŁĂ˜Ă¨Â?ÂšĘƒ Ă˜Â ÂŤĂœÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ÂĄĂŠĂ¨Ă˜ Â?Â¨ÂŤÂźÂ“Ă˜Â—ĂƒĘƒ Â ĂƒÂ“ ĂœÂ—ĂłÂ—Ă˜Â Âź ĂşÂ—Â Ă˜Ăœ  ã ZÂ?Â¨Ă‚ÂŤÂ“ĂŁĘ°Ăœ A— ã AÂ Ă˜ÂšÂ—ĂŁ Education: #Ă˜Â Â“Ă¨Â ĂŁÂ—Â“ ÂĄĂ˜ĂŠĂ‚ ; š— Ă˜ĂşĂœĂŁÂ Âź )¢¨ ZÂ?¨Êʟ Family: )Ă¨ĂœÂŒÂ ĂƒÂ“Ęƒ 7ĂŠÂ¨ĂƒĘŽ ÂĄĂŠĂ¨Ă˜ Â˘Ă˜ĂŠĂ´Ăƒ Â?Â¨ÂŤÂźÂ“Ă˜Â—ĂƒĘƒ Â Â˘Â—Ăœ ȝȿʢȟȽʎ ÂĄĂŠĂ¨Ă˜ Â˘Ă˜Â ĂƒÂ“Â?Â¨ÂŤÂźÂ“Ă˜Â—Ăƒ

Terri Anderson has battled some health issues, but persevered to get back to her passion: Valley Veggies.

MM: You became quite ill with West Nile virus in 2003. That must have been very difficult. What was that experience like, and did you think that would be the end of Valley Veggies since you had to take a hiatus for an entire season?

TA: I guess I never saw it as the end of my business.

(But) in fact, I almost didn’t live through it.

The virus caused me to have encephalitis. (In January 2005, the virus resulted in heart failure, and Valley Veggies was closed for about a year and a half. Over time, her heart function improved greatly, and she took her work on the farm slowly as it did.)

I didn’t think it would be the end of (Valley Veggies) because I’m a very determined person, and I’m a fighter. One of the things that helped was working in the soil. … I was mostly just taking things one season at a time at that point. When it comes to business, my point of view was, “If you’re not growing, if you’re not changing and moving ahead with customer demands, you’re not going to have a business anymore.”

MM: It’s May, so you must be gearing up for a busy summer. What’s a typical day like on the farm during the warm months?

TA: There is no such thing as typical. If we’re looking at May, we will be opening with plant sales, and we also have eggs for sale. We have an indoor garden where we get things started early.

Then we start planting by mid-May. Then as we plant and there’s more things that become available, eventually we won’t have plant sales available.

We do have chickens, so there’s always chicken chores every day. And a lot of our time during the day is helping customers.

It just changes from planting to picking to weeding.

The work really never ends.

MM: What kinds of produce and other items will people be able to buy from you this year?

TA: You know, it might be easier to tell you what we don’t grow. We don’t grow sweet corn.

Unique things wo do grow: okra, and kohlrabi is a big seller for us. We also have a pick-your-own herb patch and a pick-your-own flower patch.

MM: What’s your favorite recipe to make with the produce you grow on your farm?

TA: We have a real liking for the kohlrabi. One of our favorite things is creamed kohlrabi and another is roasted okra.

Another one of our favorite things to do is stir up all the vegetables together and put eggs over it. We call it egg-vegetable scramble. Some people might call it a quiche, I don’t know.

MM:Part of the reason for starting Valley Veggies was to keep your kids active and engaged in the outdoors during the summers. Now that they’re grown, what have they said to you about working on the family farm all those years? What did it mean to them?

TA: When they were kids, they weren’t always real thrilled to be out there working. When we did work, by the way, we would work 8 to noon, and I would take them swimming or we’d go bicycling or we’d do something else during the rest of the day.

And they’d end up with their friends here most of the day. They thought that part was fun. But the actual labor, not so much.

As adults they came to appreciate what they had.

They learned skills that have helped them through their adult life. They learned how to work. They all have a really good work ethic, and they all attribute that to what we did here.

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 17

Country

SOUL

¡ã Ø ó ¢ Êà ¼«¡ ʃ Ø«¹ 9Êܹ«Ã Ã Ü ãã¼ Ü Êôà «Ã ÜÊè㨠Øà A«Ãà ÜÊã Story by Robb Murray | Photos by Pat Christman

I want to be a free man riding around in the breeze Want to be free from troubles like these Want to be a free man but you don’t care I want to be free anywhere I want to be free with you by my side I want to be a free man alright — from Erik Koskinen’s “Free Man”

E

rik Koskinen parks a Chevy Suburban diagonally — flush up to the curb on the main drag in downtown Cleveland — across from the bar, a block from the fire hall, a 30-second drive from the high school.

In a snapback baseball cap and blue plaid flannel, Koskinen reports to work. He’s a morning person; likes to show up to the job site when most of us are still finishing up cups of coffee or heading out the door.

Outside a nondescript storefront, Koskinen turns a key and enters his 18 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

latest creation (which, for the ultra creative Koskinen, is saying something.)

In the heart of a small town in southern Minnesota, Koskinen hopes he’s found a home for the music that’s made him one of the most talked about up and coming country/Americana musicians in the Midwest.

Having recently relocated to rural St. Peter, Koskinen was looking for a new place to set up a recording studio. And just like something out of a country song,

Erik Koskinen recently opened up a new recording studio in downtown Cleveland.

He says the locals have welcomed him. fate stepped in (in a good way) and dropped one in his lap.

A musician friend told him about this little hole-in-the-wall spot in Cleveland where someone had set up a recording studio and was now looking to sell.

Koskinen, who was looking to relocate his Minneapolis-based studio, liked the idea of a 10-minute commute versus a 90-minute commute, so he

checked it out.

“My first thought was no matter what it was, if i buy it, I can make it anything I want to,” said Koskinen, who spent many years building homes and developing the kind of skills required to renovate any kind of workspace. “What I made sure of was that everything in the building was up to date. The electrical is good, plumbing is MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 19

Erik Koskinen’s latest release, “Cruising Paradise,” beautifully showcases his songwriting and guitar-playing abilities. good, it’s not falling over, it’s not rotting, there’s nothing wrong that was going to cause me big financial problems down the road. And I had the skills to make it what it needs to be.”

So he bought and place and spent the next few weeks hauling drums, guitars, amps, soundboards, more drums, furniture, a curious collection of literature, vinyl records, reel-to-reel recording equipment, computers, coffee pots, turntables, lamps and anything else he had laying around that old studio.

Today, while he’s not quite done perfecting it, it’s starting to become his new creative place, and the place he hopes to record many of his own albums, and perhaps a few for his musician friends.

The town and surroundings suit Koskinen.

“I have made friends,” he said. “Leroy owns the repair shop. He brings me venison and fresh fish and stuff like that. He’s retired. I’ve gotten to know him and his friends and they’ve all accepted me.

“I’m from a small town,” he said. “Feels pretty similar to the small town I’m from. It’s easy to get along with people if you wanna get along with people.”

High bar

Don’t ever get into a “my first concert” contest with Koskinen. He’s probably got you beat.

“My first concert was John Denver, Mile High Stadium,” the Fort Collins-born Koskinen said. “My parents started taking me to music festivals and stuff pretty early.”

20 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

He credits his father, also a musician, with encouraging his musical interests. And he says the area of Michigan where his family moved not long after he was born was a great place to hear all kinds of music. The Michigan Tech University campus was diverse and vibrant, and produced a culture rich in music and arts appreciation.

He recalls the music fests he attended there in his youth.

“It was great,” he said. “If they wanted a cajun band, they went to Louisiana. If they wanted a bluegrass band, they went to Appalachia.”

After his parents divorced, Koskinen lived with both at different intervals. He spent time in New York, where he learned to play oboe. And he came back to Michigan — which would be a common theme for him over the years — to be with his father.

During his older teen years in Michigan, he’d met some professional musicians. Those encounters had great impact on a young Koskinen, who by then had already decided music was going to a major part of his life.

“I wasn’t dreaming of becoming a rock star, I was just really into music,” he said. “When you’re playing a live show and the audience is with you, that’s pretty powerful.”

After a one-year return to New York to graduate high school at a place that had a music program, he returned to Michigan and sought work building houses, and gigged when he could.

This pattern continued as he moved to Vermont,

California, and Nashville. The Nashville stay, and why he left, were again like something out of a country song.

He met a girl and told her he wanted to go to Nashville. She went with him, and Koskinen started getting booked at songwriter’s nights at Nashville bars.

He was, again, building houses on the side and going on tour when he could. One time, he went to Duluth to record some songs. While there, he needed emergency hernia surgery. A few days later, he suffered an abscess tooth. A few days later, his girlfriend dumped him.

“I never went back to Nashville,” he said, “at least not to live.”

He moved back to Michigan, of course, and got a job at a guitar store. He found himself booking a lot of gigs in Minneapolis so he made a bold decision that would change his life. He sold any possession he hadn’t looked at in a year — including that high school oboe, which earned him a few hundred bucks — and headed west.

Not long after his arrival, he got himself a regular booking with Molly Maher at a Minneapolis bar called Nye’s Polonaise Room. A month after that, Esquire Magazine named Nye’s the best bar in America, and Koskinen and his band had a weekly gig there.

“We played there for five years,” he said. “It became an institution. All musicians came to watch us play. Eventually, it was full every Wednesday night.”

Koskinen and his band eventually moved on from Nye’s, a place that didn’t want to increase musician pay. So they moved to a regular gig at a bar a few miles away for more money.

Along the way, though, Koskinen was making friends and influencing people. He was playing alongside other up and coming bands in the Twin Cities. And after building his own recording studio, Koskinen became in demand as both a musician and producer.

In his Minneapolis studio, he performed with and produced or engineered recordings by Trampled by Turtles, Dead Man Winter, Haley Bonar, Actual Wolf, Molly Maher, The 4 on the Floor and others.

The move south

Around 2015, Koskinen, who had lived in St. Paul for about seven years, decided he’d had enough city living, so he headed south to rural St. Peter where he lives with his girlfriend, author Nicole Helget.

But his studio remained in Minneapolis, which meant he needed to commute to get to it. But while that studio is a place where he and his friends made great music, he had a few reasons to move on.

The building’s owner was remodeling some of the space, for one, and Koskinen says he spent some days dealing with the mess that comes with renovation projects. He also had water leaking onto his recording equipment. And finally, the owner told he needed to get out; they needed the space for other tenants.

He put a mini studio in his St. Peter home for a while, but this new location in Cleveland is now the future of Koskinen’s music.

The future of Koskinen’s music … that’s an

interesting notion.

His latest EP, “Cruising Paradise,” is a catchy set of songs any Sturgill Simpson fan would love. With a soft, brooding vocal delivery, Koskinen’s blends laid back country with devilishly good guitar playing (there’s a reason he’s asked to play guitar by the likes of Trampled by Turtles — Koskinen can flat-out play.)

Koskinen’s sound is true country, not country radio country. It’s more reminiscent of, at times, Hank Williams or, at other times, outlaw-era Waylon Jennings. There are elements of blues, folk and rock.

There’s some Stevie Ray Vaughan in there. A little Roy Orbison. It’s 100 percent unique.

And he can’t wait to get down to making more of it.

He’d had a full album ready when he was still affiliated with Red House Records. But, in a stroke of luck, he declined to sign a contract for a fulllength album. A month later, the Minnesota-based Red House was sold to a Nashville-based company.

Koskinen says that, if he’d signed that contract, his album likely would have been lost in the ocean of Nashville artists.

So he’s hoping to finish that album up and either finish it himself or shop it around to a record label.

Whatever happens, Koskinen’s vibe is a happy one right now, reminiscent of one of his most popular songs …

I’m goin’ to the river To see the water flow.

It’s coming down from the mountain, To the ocean it will go.

I’m going to the country, To see that girl of mine.

She’s coming down off a mountain, A mountain way up high.

And I’m feeling pretty good, Despite all the tears.

I’m feeling pretty good, For the first time in years.

MM

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 21

Tiffany and Sebastien (3) Brown wait as Chad and Brandon Borgmann get the boat in the water during last year’s fishing opener at the Bray Park Boat Landing in Madison Lake. Photo by Levi Janssen

Gone (opening)

FISHIN’!

This past winter was a brutal one. But now it’s time to hit the lakes Story by Brian Arola

A

sking anglers which of ice or open-water fishing they prefer is like asking them to choose a favorite among their children.

Many opt for the diplomatic route, pointing out the merits of both so as not to spurn either of the hobbies. They’ll point out how ice fishing provides an outlet during those cold winter months when it’s most needed, and then tell you fishing in short sleeves with the sun beaming down on the boat has its obvious charms.

Thankfully for Minnesota’s 1.4 million licensed anglers, they can have it all. Ice fishing gives way to open-water season come the spring, when boats in

22 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

the water replace the trucks and four wheelers on top of it just weeks before.

The shift is truly complete once walleye opener comes around on May 12. The beginning weekend for the pursuit of our state’s favorite fish draws thousands of Minnesotans to watering holes each year in every corner of the state. The governor joins in, a gaggle of media and accompanying boats in tow.

At many of Minnesota’s other 5,400 or so fishable lakes, opening weekend doesn’t make for the most peaceful fishing experience. But as the saying goes: even a bad day fishing beats a good day working.

Left: Ryan Scholl baits his hook during the early morning hours of Minnesota’s walleye fishing opener last year on Lake Washington. Photos by Pat Christman.

A Minnesota tradition

Travis Roberts does his best to fish on opener in between his shifts at Corner Bait in Madison Lake.

It’s not easy given the rush bait shops see ahead of and during opener. For them the beginning of walleye season kicks off the busier stretch of the year.

The day before opener at the bait shop is steady, beginning at 6 a.m. Friday. The shop doesn’t close again until 9 p.m. Saturday. Roberts, a local fishing guide, said he’ll likely come in late Friday to work overnight, where he’ll see anglers head out for midnight fishing on Madison Lake and Lake Washington. Hours later after he finishes in the morning, he drops a line in himself.

“I’ll go on the lake if I’m still energetic,” he said.

“It’s a Minnesota tradition to get out on opening day.”

Walleye isn’t his favorite fish to catch — he lives for muskie season in June — but tradition is tradition.

“It creates good memories,” he said. “A lot of kids went out for the first time with their dad and mom on opener.”

His own memories of opening weekend include a huge day fishing with friends on Madison Lake around 2003. Later that day he and his eventual wife started dating, capping off what he called “a very eventful opener.”

Walt Hohn, owner of Walt’s Hook Line and Sinker just outside St. Peter, has fished on several dozen openers in his day. At 67, he started fishing when he was 3 or 4 years old. Owning the shop for the last 11 years, he said the downside is he can’t get out on opener whenever he chooses.

“You don’t always get to fish when you want to fish,” he said.

If he can’t get away, he sees anglers come in for supplies before heading off to watering holes every which direction. Turns out after having to break through ice to get to the fish for months, people are happy to have entire lakes to explore again.

Some draws remain constant across the seasons, though. For Hohn, one of the biggest pulls of fishing, whether it’s ice or open-water, is the unpredictability.

“It’s the unexplainable part of the hunt; I guess that’s the way I’d put it,” he said. “I like being outdoors and just like the part of not knowing what’s coming up the boat.”

The way he sees it you can spend all the money in

the world on equipment, but when you feel a nibble it could be anything down there. What you’re reeling in could contribute to the shoreline fish fry for lunch, or it could be a boot.

Hohn said we can try figuring out what fish think all we want, but we’ll never completely know.

“It’s a strange world down there and I don’t know if anyone is going to ever figure out,” he said.

Trying to figure it out is one of Robert’s favorite parts.

“I think it’s just the challenge of figuring out the fish,” he said. “ … It’s the chase.”

Chases and unpredictability aren’t normally considered compatible with relaxation, but fishing finds a way. All the anglers interviewed said fishing, whether because they liked to be out in nature, liked spending time with family and friends, or wanted to unwind after a tough day or week, is a stress reliever.

Cold opener

When it’s still beginning to look a lot like Christmas in April, it’s a potential roadblock to opening weekend. Even the hardiest Minnesotans would agree winter 2018 overstayed its welcome.

The result was zero Minnesota lakes iced out by well into April, according to the DNR’s tracking.

Nate Greene, owner of Corner Bait, closed his shop until he started seeing some open water. A bait machine was stocked for anyone still finding spots to cast.

No open water would mean no opener, but southern Minnesota lakes are historically in little danger of still being covered by then. Greene and Hohn were optimistic the nearby lakes would be clear well before opener.

The bright side is late ice outs could keep water temperatures down, making for better fishing, Greene said. Last year’s early melt and warm waters weren’t the best fishing conditions.

Greene grew up fishing along the Mississippi River in Red Wing.

“I was the quote unquote river rat,” he said.

Over there they didn’t have to wait for opener to fish. Any river ice was clear well before the lakes.

Still, Greene recalls going up north to fish on lakes for opener with his family.

Minnesota anglers could be heading the opposite direction if the inevitable warm up doesn’t extend to the state’s northern reaches in time. Perhaps it’ll introduce newcomers to the waters southern MM Minnesotans flock to every year.

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 23

Reflections

By Pat Christman

24 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

I

f April showers bring May flowers, what do April snows bring?

Hopefully, the recent snows will eventually give way to brightly colored tulips, crocuses and daffodils.

Until then, we rely on greenhouses and flower shops to inject a little color into the drab spring landscape.

We put flowers on our kitchen tables, desks and living rooms to try to hasten a spring that seems to be taking its sweet time in coming. MM MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 25

Y A S

ES

Ice fishing, the quintessential embrace-the-season activity during Minnesota’s winters, wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be.

A bold trip north Free Press staff writer Deanna Narveson left the comfortable south for the frigid north.

And she didn’t hate it.

By Deanna Narveson

T

here are always flowers where I am from.

Bright hibiscus and knockout roses bloom whenever they choose.

Azalea bushes fill with color and the wide milky petals of the magnolias float to the ground in the spring.

In the summer, pink crepe myrtle flowers cover the patio like confetti; they bake in the heat and blow around in the breeze.

26 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

The sago palm’s new fronds stick straight up from the middle of the squat little tree. Each spiky, feather-like leaf will darken and uncurl as the tree stretches its arms out in the sun. I relish the extreme heat. I stretch out in the sunlight like a palm tree.

Time crawls. We need holidays to mark the seasons because the grass is always green.

I moved away almost two years ago from my two homes: southeast Texas, where I grew up, and south Louisiana, where I went to school. I started my job as a news reporter at the Mankato Free Press a week before the Democratic and Republican parties held

their conventions for the 2016 elections.

I wanted to see new places. I had an expensive degree I needed to pay off, and the idea of a fresh start, of going out into the world on my own, enamored me. I interned with the corporation that owns The Free Press and — most importantly— they were hiring. I thought, “Why the hell not?”

My dog Maxine and I set sail up I-35 to my new home in a student housing complex near Minnesota State University with my life packed up in boxes. My favorite plastic dinosaur doll, an inside joke turned birthday present, melted in the backseat because it was so hot that summer.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been so far from home; I was a foreign exchange student in Denmark for a year in high school.

There’s little difference between being an exchange student in a foreign land and being an adult starting anew across the country. Except, when you’re a Texan in Denmark, you expect to feel like a fish out of water.

In Minnesota, I didn’t know all the little social rules, like what to bring to a party. The differences are often so subtle no one would have known to say anything to the outsider from the southern swamps.

I did anything I could to make friends and meet people. Common knowledge and references to Minnesota events, places, people, and traditions soared over my head. I felt like I was playing catchup for months.

Even so, I was and still am ecstatic that I get to do the work that I do at the newspaper. I mean that, too.

I adore news writing, and I’ve somehow found myself working with a team of great journalists who inspire me. Coming to the office is never a chore, but I couldn’t rely on my work alone to fill my life.

Running brings me joy, so I signed up for local road races and the Mankato Marathon Half Marathon. I could leave my apartment and within a mile find myself in the middle of golden cornfields.

It was like the city dropped off into nothing, far from the urban sprawl that surrounded me before.

I’d pump my legs uphill toward a trio of grain silos and then race back home trying to beat the sunset, dodging a gaggle of geese holding church along the way.

One day in September as I walked Maxine, I realized that my street looked completely different than it did when I’d moved in six weeks earlier. The trees were a different color, the grass was fading and leaves were falling all around us.

Six weeks later it was different still, and six weeks after that it was again transformed. It shocked me each time. The yellow, orange and red leaves arrive in the fall. Pristine snow and biting cold descend in winter.

The green of new leaves is almost blinding in spring and then summer’s warmth comes again. I didn’t know I could feel so much joy about grass growing until I saw it for the first time in months as winter tapered into my first Minnesota spring.

Maxine spent half an hour rolling around on her back on the new grass with her tail wagging while I watched, wishing it wouldn’t stain my clothes if I did it, too.

Sometimes it felt like too much. On top of being far from home, on top of normal growing pains, the

Same place, but ... somehow a different place.

Minnemishinona Falls are beautiful anytime of year. weather kept changing on me. I never thought about the weather before. Where I’m from, apart from tropical storms in the late summer, my day-to-day life didn’t change at all with the seasons.

I couldn’t trot out to check the mailbox barefoot.

That disturbed me in the way that a holiday season without snow might disquiet a Minnesotan.

I had a lot of meltdowns. I called home and cried on the phone the day before my 22nd birthday.

A year before, familiar faces crowded my living room lounging on the soft brown couches my uncle loaned me, a stack of pizzas on the kitchen table.

Now I was in this cold, new place where I knew MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 27

The author, basking in the sun. about three people outside of work.

“There’s a reason most people don’t move across the country,” I spat between sobs. “What am I here for anyway?!”

Before that moment, I’d naively thought the rules of personhood didn’t apply to me. The rules that say leaving home is difficult even when it’s exciting.

“Something good will happen tomorrow,” my mom said. “I promise, baby.”

And she was right. The next day a bouquet of purple, yellow and pink flowers along with with a foil balloon from, all courtesy of mom, arrived on my desk at work. I kept the flowers in my bedroom for months after the flowers’ petals had wilted. I kept her card and note in my desk drawer. She told me over and over again my work was helping people, that I was touching their lives by sharing their stories.

Unlike so many friends and family in the North and the South, neither of my parents questioned why I’d moved away. I needed that kind of support from them.

I flew or drove home to the South about every three months. On Friday evenings, Spirit Airlines has a 2.5-hour flight from Minneapolis to Houston.

The flight number is always 281, the same as the Houston area code.

Every time I went back to visit where I grew up, the sameness struck me. Through weeks, months, seasons and years the trees and leaves always looked the same.

I told my family about my favorite stories I’d written at work, new running routes I’d found and how pretty the fall colors were. I showed them 28 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

pictures of the frozen waterfall at Minneopa State Park.

I have all these specialized clothes now. I’ve got gloves for medium cold days and gloves for super cold days. I choose between four different jackets depending on the weather and a variety of hats.

The ever-changing atmosphere embeds itself in the culture and way of life in Minnesota.

Minnesotans refuse to stay indoors, and the spirit of enjoying all nature has to offer is infectious.

In the winter people go ice fishing, sledding, skiing, skating and snowshoeing.

Before a colleague took me ice fishing, I knew the sport only from the Walter Matthau movie “Grumpy Old Men.” I have family all over the Midwest (like most Texans, our stock didn’t start there) but none are the fishing sort.

It blew my mind when my colleague’s truck rolled out onto the lake. I was certain we were going to break through the ice. He took a photo of me standing outside the fish house staring at the solid ice beneath my feet in awe.

“Did you catch CatFish Hunter?” my brother asked when he saw the photo, referring to the legendary fish in the movie. I didn’t catch anything, I told him, but it was worth it to walk on 18 inches of solid water.

My sisters gasped when I told them about having to stand holding the hood of my car up while trying to jump start it one frigid night. My sweet coworkers and I took turns between thawing out our hands inside and watching the car while the jumper cables worked their magic. Just as summer punishes in the South, winter isn’t all pretty snowflakes in the North

either.

I spent my second Easter in Minnesota along gorgeous Lake Superior with cousins. As we left church on a snowy Easter morning, we heard someone joke about how awful it was that the weather in Duluth was the same on Christmas as it was on Easter.

In the summer folks here go to the lake and soak up the sunshine. They live big because it’s only here for a few months.

The sun sets so late in June and July that my roommates and I had time to go swimming, grill out and take Maxine for a walk all after work. I swear the sun shines brighter here.

The weather at first seems insignificant, but it is the backdrop in front of which our experiences play out. There’s a joke that Minnesotans talk about the weather a lot. But the weather here is no joke.

There are moments when I rail against the seasons. I am furious.

I resent my mittens and coat.

There are more moments, though, when I appreciate the tangible passage of time here. It’s the opposite of my evergreen home in a way that feels exciting.

My mom says being in Minnesota changed me. She says I’m more compassionate, resourceful, confident and more appreciative of cultural differences. The changes she sees in me could be products of growing older, but I want to give Minnesota the credit.

If I’d never come to Minnesota I would have missed out on so much. Gratitude overwhelms me.

How lucky am I that my path has taken me north?

There is a reason most people don’t move across the country.

It’s not easy, but that doesn’t mean one shouldn’t do it.

I see the magnificence in how this precise position on this planet barreling around the sun makes each month feel like a new place, a fresh start.

There are always flowers where I am from ... but flowers aren’t everything. MM Deanna Narveson was a staff writer for The Free Press. After working there for nearly two years, she took a job in Texas.

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Day Trip Destinations: Aldo Leopold Center

By James Figy

About 10,000 sandhill cranes migrate from the Wisconsin River right behind Leopold’s shack each fall.

(Photo by Robert Rolley, courtesy of the Aldo Leopold Foundation)

Leopold’s Legacy Museum honors the ‘father of wildlife ecology’

W

hen ecologist Aldo Leopold died in April 1948 while fighting a grass fire, his most influential book, “A Sand County Almanac,” hadn’t even been published.

However,

Those wishing to learn more about Leopold and his ideas can visit the Aldo Leopold Legacy Center in Baraboo, Wisconsin, a short drive from the Wisconsin Dells. The museum provides background information about the conservationist, and visitors can tour the shack and farm that inspired much of “A Sand Leopold’s legacy lived on in the County Almanac.” posthumous collection of The Aldo Leopold Legacy essays on conservation and his Center property sits near the A well-known conservationist and author of land ethic, which values nature banks of the Wisconsin River “A Sand County Almanac,” Aldo Leopold not as a commodity but a is known as “the father of wildlife ecology.” and has many woodland and community.

(Photo courtesy of the Aldo Leopold Foundation) prairie nature trails surrounding “When we see land as a the shack and farm, according community to which we belong, we may begin to use to Jen Kobylecky, director of education for the Aldo it with love and respect,” he wrote in the book’s Leopold Foundation.

Visitors can birdwatch, often introduction.

30 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

spotting eagles, red headed woodpeckers and cranes, especially in the fall.

“As sandhill cranes prepare for their annual migration in November and December, they group up by the thousands on the sandbars of the Wisconsin River right behind Aldo’s shack,” Kobylecky said. “It’s a real spectacle to behold, both for the eyes and the ears. You have no idea what a cacophony 10,000 sandhill cranes can create until you experience it.”

The Center boasts exhibits about Leopold, who many call the “father of wildlife ecology.” It also has information about the museum, which was built to be extremely eco-friendly, as evidenced by its Platinum LEED certification.

Guided tours of the farm and shack are available at 1 p.m.

Saturdays from April through October, and at 1 p.m. TuesdayFriday from Memorial Day to Labor Day. Visitors can take a selfguided tour year-round, but they might miss out on some experiences. The tour guides are able to share information about everything from ecology to Leopold family stories, according to Kobylecky.

“A guided tour is also really the only way to view the inside of the Shack structure, which is just as it was in the 30s and 40s,” she said.

“You’ll be amazed at the simplicity and humility. It was quite a rustic retreat for a family of seven.”

Classes, workshops and special events are available on topics “from land management classes like prescribed burning or chainsaw safety to more creative pursuits like Leopold bench building and writing workshops,” according to Kobylecky. Overall, everything at the Center serves to further Leopold’s legacy and promote sustainability.

“I’m always amazed at how Leopold’s words and ideas still resonate,” she said. “...Every time I see a vibrant farmer’s market or meet a visitor who shares the story of their special place of retreat, I’m reminded that simplicity and connection are at the heart of the modern sustainability movement, something Leopold was writing about so long ago.”

Leopold was born in Burlington, Iowa, in 1887, and graduated from the Yale School of Forestry in

Guided tours allow visitors to see inside the shack where Leopold and his family spent many weekends. (Photo courtesy of the Aldo Leopold Foundation) 1909. He worked for the Forest Service in Arizona and New Mexico, where he met his wife, Estella Bergere Leopold. In 1924, a job promotion took them to Madison, Wisconsin, where they raised their five children.

Leopold became chair of the University of WisconsinMadison’s game management program in 1933 after writing the first textbook on this subject. He then purchased the Sauk County shack and farm in 1935, as a sort of retreat.

“He and his family spent most of their free weekends and vacations there, planting pine trees, restoring native prairie and observing the landscape,” she said.

“...The site is designated as a National Historic Landmark not only for its role in inspiring the book, but because it represents one of our nation’s earliest examples of a restored landscape.”

While farming, hunting and working on “A Sand County Almanac,” Leopold refined his land ethic philosophy.

“All ethics so far evolved rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts,” he wrote. “The land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants and animals, or collectively the land.”

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 31

Then & Now: Lorin Cray By: BRYCE O. STENZEL

The Cray Mansion is an institution downtown.

The Hon. Lorin Cray M ay, 2018 marks the 150th anniversary of “Decoration Day” or “Memorial Day,” which had its origins in the aftermath of our nation’s deadliest conflict — the American Civil War.

In four years of bloody fighting, 750,000 American lives were lost on both sides. There was hardly a family who had not lost someone in the war, or knew someone who did. This fact, coupled with the outpouring of national grief in the wake of President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, gave freed slaves in Charleston, South 32 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

Carolina the idea to memorialize all of the Union dead by placing flowers on their graves. This simple ceremony evolved into a grassroots effort undertaken by a number of other cities to do the same thing.

Eventually, the idea was picked up by the Grand Army of the Republic Union veterans of the Civil War organization (who referred to its members as “boys in blue”) and culminated in the creation of “Decoration Day,” on May 30, 1868. Subsequent wars broadened the appeal for a national day to honor all of America’s war dead; this was finally achieved in 1971, with the inception of “Memorial Day,” on the last Monday in May. One of Blue Earth County’s

Civil War veterans was Lorin Cray, who was born in Mooers, Clinton County, New York in 1844, and settled with his parents on a farm in Pleasant Mound Township, in 1859. Lorin enlisted in Company D., 9th Minnesota Volunteer Infantry, and served with that regiment through the U.S.-Dakota and Civil wars.

Private Cray was with the regiment at the decisive, two-day Battle of Nashville (December 15-16, 1864), in which Minnesota troops of four different regiments (5th, 7th, 9th and 10th) took an active role in driving their Confederate foe completely off the battlefield, ensuring Union victory.

After fighting all day on the 16th, in mud up to their shins, the

men of the 9th Minnesota had only moved their enemy about two miles. They began stowing their packs underneath bushes, fallen logs or buildings in preparation for a major attack.

For his part, Cray was able to locate a small log cabin along the Charlotte Pike, where he hid his canteen and haversack to keep them dry. At about 4 p.m., in the waning light of a rainy, chilly afternoon, the men of the 9th Regiment began their advance all along the line up the steep slopes of what came to be known as “Shy’s Hill,” against the Confederate Army’s left flank. As darkness fell, a drenching rain, mixed with sleet, pelted down on both armies engaged in battle: it was at this moment that Private Cray was struck down with an ugly wound to his shoulder from a piece of shrapnel, fired during the ensuing cannonade. He lay in the mud and freezing temperatures all night until he was found by his comrades and taken into Nashville, and placed in a temporary hospital in the Masonic Temple building. It was so crowded that Cray had to be taken to the fourth floor where his wound was treated. Cray was one of the fortunate survivors.

Among the four Minnesota regiments that fought, 302 were killed, missing or wounded in the Battle of Nashville — the greatest loss the state suffered in any Civil War battle.

Lorin Cray returned to Blue Earth County at the close of the war in 1865. He studied law with judges Severance and Dickinson, and was admitted to the bar in 1875. Cray opened a law office in Lake Crystal, where he practiced law until 1887, when he moved to Mankato. He became a prominent Dr. AngelA Schuck Dr. keith FlAck

attorney, representing several area railroad companies and the National Citizens’ Bank of Mankato, among other clients. In 1898, a year after building an imposing Queen Ann style mansion, at 603 South Second Street; Cray was elected judge of Minnesota’s 6th Judicial District.

He retired from that position in 1908. Judge Lorin Cray married twice; his first wife, Sarah Trimble died in 1890. He married Lulu Murphy of Lake Crystal, in 1893.

Judge Cray was active in many civic groups; most significantly,

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the organization of the YWCA. Cray’s mansion became the local chapter’s headquarters for many years. He had a friendly rivalry with his neighbor, RD Hubbard, to see which had a grander house.

Lorin Cray died in 1926. He was buried in Glenwood Cemetery.

Cray’s is only one of 682 fascinating stories of our local “boys in blue.” Their personal sacrifices gave us the Memorial Day holiday, and so much more.

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M

ay baskets. Just the thought of them makes you wish we still lived in simpler times, doesn’t it?

This month’s Food, Drink & Dine gets into the May basket tradition because, well, it’s May, so why not? But what strikes me about this story is how great it would be if people still did this kind of stuff en masse. Leaving little bags full of goodies on doorsteps seems like such a cute, in-person kind of nicety that we could use a lot more of in this day and age.

We’re all a lot more likely to get a virtual May basket this year from a friend who found a goofy app on her smartphone. But fret not! There are still a select few clinging to this funky tradition. And you’ve still got time. This magazine comes out just in time to remind you about the annual May 1 tradition. But hey, who cares about being on time, right? I mean, who cares if your May basket arrives on May 1 or May 6 or May 24. It’s the thought that counts, right? And it’s never a bad time to shower a friend with candy dressed up in a fancy basket.

Also, Bert our beer guy gets you ready for spring with some brew ideas perfect for planting weather. And Leigh the wine guy talks about the idea of bringing your own bottle of wine to your favorite restaurant.

— Robb Murray, Associate Editor, Mankato Magazine

southern mn style

Enjoy!

food, drink & dine

Simpler times …

MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 35

Food

May baskets —

southern mn style

a forgotten custom?

Perhaps, but they haven’t disappeared completely

By Amanda Dyslin

A

s folks have started to keep more to themselves, some neighborhood traditions have fallen away. There are fewer block parties, for example, fewer neighborhood grill-outs.

May Day baskets are another quaint custom that usually requires a person to be on familiar terms with one’s neighbors (considering it involves ringing a doorbell, running away and leaving behind edible items; something about a stranger anonymously leaving food seems troubling these days.)

But Kasey Jo Gratz, who grew up in North Mankato, remembers her family’s tradition well. Gratz’s mom had done May baskets as a kid, and so she had her three children do them every year, too.

Every May 1st through about fifth grade, Gratz said she and her siblings punched two holes on either side of the top of a plastic cup and affixed a pipe cleaner to create a “basket.” They filled the cups with popcorn, M&Ms and wrapped candies, and they wrote the names of the recipients on each one.

Four neighboring houses did the same, and the children in each house made baskets for the number of children in the other houses. So the Gratz house, for example, would receive three baskets from each neighbor.

There was another part of the tradition that didn’t really get followed, Gratz said. If the doorbell-ringers didn’t run away fast enough when leaving the baskets and they were caught, the kids living there traditionally

were supposed to run out and give them a kiss.

That didn’t happen, she said, because they were just kids.

Basically, there was just a lot of doorbell-ringing and candyeating happening on May 1st every year.

“It was always something really fun,” said Gratz, who said she would carry on the tradition with her children one day if she ends up living in a neighborhood like the one she grew up in, where she knows her neighbors and their children are friends.

If you are lucky enough to live in such a neighborhood and want to start a cute annual tradition, here are some ideas for making May baskets to leave at your neighbors’ doors (dingdong-ditch optional).

The Gratz Way What you’ll need: Solo cups (or other plastic cups that can easily be punctured) Pipe cleaners A hole punch device Sharpie marker Popcorn M&Ms Any wrapped candy Directions: Punch a hole near the top of a Solo cup and another hole on the opposite side of the cup, also at the top. Take one end of a pipe cleaner and tie it around one of the holes, creating a knot. Do the same with the other end of the pipe cleaner in the other hole. (You’ve created your basket.) Write the name of the recipient with the Sharpie on the outside of the basket. (You can also use paper bags and substitute anything you like to make the handle.)

In a bowl, mix up the popcorn, M&Ms and candies.

Pour into your cup.

Repeat for as many recipients as you need!

36 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

Get Crafty

If you want to get a little creative, use colorful paper to make a splashier basket.

What you’ll need: Patterned, colorful scrapbook paper pages (12 by 12 is a good size) Clear tape Scissors A hole punch device String, yarn or pipe cleaners Easter grass Wrapped candies Directions: Roll a piece of scrapbook paper into a cone shape and tape it closed. Trim the top of the cone so that the circular top is level.

Punch two holes on opposite sides at the top of the paper cone, and use the string, yarn or pipe cleaners to create a handle.

Fill the cone with Easter grass in any color, and fill with wrapped candies. You can write the names of the recipients on the outside or decorate with extra flourishes like stickers.

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Get Creative

May baskets can be anything you want them to be. If you want to fancy it up, one idea is to turn your candy into flowers. Cut a flower out of construction paper and push lollipops through them, making the candy into the head of the flower with the paper petals all around it. Or, you could glue a Hershey’s kiss onto a paper flower cut-out and affix a popsicle stick to act as the stem.

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Another idea: Instead of a cup or paper, use a planter or a pot; it is May, after all, when we’re all thinking about spring flowers. Include a packet of seeds and maybe some fresh-baked cookies.

The best part about May baskets is that all you need is some sort of container, and the rest is up to your imagination.

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Wine & Beer

wines

By Leigh Pomeroy

Ode to spring

southern mn style

I

’m writing this on the last day of March. Outside it’s cold and blustery, hardly a day that resembles spring. Yet my editors want these articles at least a month in advance, so there: I’ll just have to imagine.

Last night, Gretta and I enjoyed a splendid dinner with friends at the Amboy Cottage Café. Yet I was able to imagine spring somewhat as we shared a bottle of Fleur de Mer Côtes de Provence Rosé 2017 — my first 2017 rosé of the 2018 spring. Produced in the south of France near the famous vacation spot of Saint-Tropez, this lovely wine reflects everything wonderful about Provençal rosés: bright, light pink color; expressive, fragrant, floral nose; delicate, dancing flavors with a dry, cleansing, refreshing finish.

In short, this was hardly the same stuff as generally cloyingly sweet and sappy California White Zinfandel or any of its cheap American brethren.

Perhaps the best testimony to the quality of the Fleur de Mer Rosé is that our dining companions, avowed and vocal red wine drinkers, truly loved it.

Hopefully, by the beginning of May, more 2017 French rosés will be on local store shelves and local restaurant wine lists as well. Don’t look for it, however, on any wine list at the Amboy Cottage Café, for the café has no wine list. In fact, it doesn’t serve alcohol at all. Rather, its owner, Lisa Lindberg, encourages diners to bring their own bottles for which she will supply glasses. And there’s no corkage fee!

Speaking of bringing your own wine to restaurants, most restaurants allow for this, but always call first to find out if they do and what their corkage fee is. Those fees usually run from $10 on up.

Recently, Gretta and I were treated to dinner by our sons at the Spoon and Stable, a young, swank eatery in the Warehouse District of downtown Minneapolis. In its very successful short tenure, it has managed to gain a number of nominations for the prestigious James Beard Awards, and even a win or two. It does feature a great wine list, albeit pricey, but it also allows diners to bring their own bottles.

The downside is that the corkage fee is $30 — gulp! Yet the upside is that the restaurant waives the fee if you also buy one or more bottles from their wine list, a win-win (I think) for all.

If you do bring a bottle to a restaurant, it is absolutely verboten that it be one they already have on their wine list — a faux pas just short of dancing naked on the table and far less entertaining.

Also, bring one of interest, one that has a personal meaning or one that comes from a winery with which you have a personal connection. To bring ordinary plonk is … well, see above about “dancing naked.”

38 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

And don’t be shy about offering the wine steward or your server a glass to try. At the very least they will be thankful; at the very most they might be so smitten with it they will lobby the management to put it on the wine list.

At the Spoon and Stable we brought a 2009 Tulocay Napa Valley Pinot Noir. I asked our server to pour himself a glass, which he did. And he must have liked it, for Gretta noticed him passing it around for other servers to try.

Getting back to where we started — that is, with rosés — these delicate pick wines are, apart from a handful of exceptions, like fresh fruit: best consumed when young. So, lest you be tempted to pick up an older version … DON’T! You should be drinking 2017s now and, if in a pinch, 2016s.

If you see a 2015 or older on a retailer’s shelf or a restaurant’s wine list, leave it be. That’s their problem.

•••• As summer ramps up, so do our local wineries with their enticing wine and food festivities. Preeminent among the events is the annual Educare Foundation fundraiser, which this year will be held Friday, May 18, in the new Event Center at Chankaska Creek Ranch & Winery in Kasota. Cost is $50 per person. If interested, I strongly suggest you reserve your spot right now at educarefoundation.org, as I’m sure tickets are limited.

Other events are on tap — or perhaps “out of the barrel” — at Morgan Creek Vineyards, near Cambria (morgancreekvineyards.com); Indian Island Winery, east of Saint Clair (indianislandwinery. com); Javens Family Vineyard & Winery, east of Mankato ( javenswinery.com); and, of course, Chankaska Creek Ranch & Winery (chankaskawines.com).

Salud!

Leigh Pomeroy is a Mankato-based writer and wine lover.

Beer

By Bert Mattson

Spring release A

pril is the annual rebirth, but May toddles in fully alive, curious and unashamed.

Added to the trickle and flow of runoff, come the almost audible sprouts of green inching through the thatch. In May the bees swarm, to new estates, before long to buzz soft patterns through the blooms.

The smallest fishes move shallow to spawn. Everything seems possible — natures mood, at moments, is almost manic. And fleeting.

As much as one begs those early rays of sun to bathe his face all day, garden mornings breeze into airy afternoons, ultimately taking on a nip at nightfall and the day is gone.

But, with a little anticipation, we can make the most of them. Get the grill ready. Get the seeds and seedlings into the ground. Get an hour or two scheduled to wet a line. Get the cooler stocked. Get it all in order and you stand a chance to slow down time.

May brings the release of Indeed Brewing Company’s Mexican Honey. This Imperial Lager features imported Mexican Orange Blossom honey, Pilsner and Vienna malts make the bill, and Amarillo Hops, offsetting its sweetness with citrus, herbal, and spicy elements. The finish is just dry enough to allow the honey to contribute more than simple sweetness. An inkling of it lands on the nose with graham cracker and hint of orange.

True to form, Mexican Honey does deliver on alcohol content.

At around 8 percent alcohol by volume, it’s best to stay clear of Mexico’s other celebrated import, spicy-hot cuisine.

Mojo Criollo is a Cuban dish that offers all the balance and depth of flavor without the heat: earthy oregano, sour orange, garlic, and cumin. Slow roasted and shredded shoulder of pork

dressed with this stuff and a tangle of fresh cilantro is at once elegant and girl-next-door. A lot like Mexican Honey, which is up to the task of tackling such a rich cut of meat.

Another spring release, Capital Brewing’s Maibock, is friendly with food. It has the hops (Liberty and Hallertau) for balance without bitterness. The bill is made up of Brewers and Honey Malt. Malt forward, with a touch of intrinsic spice, and at around 6 percent, this one would work for those looking to stray from grilled sausages into some spicy ethnic options. Bulgogi wrapped in a lettuce leaf, or country style ribs brushed with gochujang and grilled, would both be good bets. Try it with Tacos al Pastor come Cinco de Mayo. It’s a bit bubbly for the style, which is a bonus for these pairing purposes, in my opinion.

It’s an easy drinker on its own.

Mad Butcher from Mankato Brewery is available year round. An American IPA and a backyard-grilled burger with cheese just might be the best way to slow down time on these fleeting spring days. In this one the grain bill and hops beget hints of honey and herbal tones, respectively. Bottom line: it’s a sound sipper to sit on the porch and witness May unfold.

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Bert Mattson is a chef and writer based in St. Paul. He is the manager of the iconic Mickey’s Diner. bertsbackburner.com

Open: Monday-Thursday11-10; Friday & Saturday11-10:30; Sunday11-9 MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 39

That’s Life

By Nell Musolf

Here’s Looking at You

I

tried to get a new pair of glasses the other day. Tried, mind you.

I didn’t succeed. I didn’t succeed a few months ago either, when I visited an optical shop at the mall and learned that I needed to have the written doctor’s prescription in hand before I could buy glasses.

“That isn’t how it used to be,” I told the clerk. “I could swear I just brought my glasses in last time and you were able to read the prescription on one of those machines.”

She gave me a look that I am slowly becoming accustomed to, a look that says: This isn’t the 80’s anymore, lady. Get with the program! “Well, that’s not how things are now. You need your prescription.”

Annoyed but chastened, I dutifully had my eyes examined and got my prescription but I decided to shop elsewhere for glasses, someplace where I could get contacts and glasses at the same time and hopefully at a discount. Anxious to get those new glasses, I stopped at a big box store on my way home from my eye doctor’s

40 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

appointment. That was my first mistake.

For the record, I don’t like any activity that requires me to stare at my reflection in public, such as getting my hair cut or trying on glasses. The

lighting is never the same in beauty salons and I defy anyone other than a supermodel to look good in one of those black plastic cloths the stylist drapes over you and then ties

in a tourniquet around your neck.

The same goes for optical shops. It fascinates me whenever I see people who aren’t like me, you know, normal, who shop slowly and carefully, trying on pair after pair of specs, peering at themselves constantly and totally unselfconsciously. I tend to grab the closest pair of glasses, shove them on, glance at myself in one of those narrow, poorly lit mirrors and think sold!

Which is exactly what I did. I quickly found a pair of acceptable frames and brought them over to the technician, who, according to his nametag, was KENNY. Kenny looked from the frames to me and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

“Put them on again,” he ordered. I did and Kenny scrutinized me far more carefully than I’ve ever been scrutinized in any optical shop. “Too deep. The frames are resting on your cheeks.

When you squinch up your face, you’re going to squinch up the glasses too.”

“What if I just don’t squinch up my face?” I suggested.

“Let’s try on some other frames,” Kenny replied, gently removing the glasses and putting them back on the display.

Kenny watched as I tried on at least ten different frames, each time glancing hopefully at Kenny for his

approval. “Nope, nope, nope and nope,� he kept saying. I reached for a pair of wire rims and put them on. Kenny looked almost nauseous. “I don’t know why, but those are truly hideous on you,� he informed me. “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right after my doctor’s appointment,� I said a little desperately. “My pupils are so dilated that I can’t really see what I’m doing.� “I wasn’t going to say anything but since you brought it up, your pupils are so dilated that you look like you’re coming down from a mescaline trip,�

Kenny told me. “Well, I’m not,â€? I assured him as I tried not to let Kenny’s brutal assessment of not only my taste in ÂĄĂ˜Â Ă‚Â—Ăœ ÂŒĂ¨ĂŁ 㨗 ĂœÂŤĂżÂ— ĂŠÂĄ Ă‚Ăş Ă•Ă¨Ă•ÂŤÂźĂœ  ė—Â?ĂŁ my already shaky self-esteem. Ę­HÂ¨Ęƒ , ÂšĂƒĂŠĂ´ ĂŁÂ¨Â ĂŁĘƒĘŽ 9Â—ĂƒĂƒĂş Ă˜Â—Ă•ÂźÂŤÂ—Â“Ęˆ “Not at your age.â€? aÂ¨ÂŤĂœ Ă´Â—ĂƒĂŁ ĂŠĂƒ ÂĄĂŠĂ˜ ô¨ ã ¥—Ÿã Ÿš— Â Ăƒ Â—ĂŁÂ—Ă˜ĂƒÂŤĂŁĂş Ă¨ĂƒĂŁÂŤÂź , ÄƒĂƒÂ ÂźÂźĂş ĂœĂ•ĂŠĂŁĂŁÂ—Â“ some frames I instantly fell in love with. I tried them on before turning nervously to Kenny. “How about these?â€? )— Õèã Â ÄƒĂƒÂ˘Â—Ă˜ ĂŠĂƒ Â¨ÂŤĂœ ÂÊèã¨ Â ĂƒÂ“ ㍟㗓 Â¨ÂŤĂœ ¨— “ Œ Â?ÂšĘˆ Ę­aÂ¨Â—ĂşĘ°Ă˜Â—  ô¥èŸŸú blue, aren’t they?â€? “I like them,â€? I insisted.

Kenny shook his head. “Go home and wait for those pupils to get back to normal,â€? he urged. Ę­ Ê— Œ Â?š ĂŁĂŠĂ‚ĂŠĂ˜Ă˜ĂŠĂ´Ęˆ , Ă´ĂŠĂƒĘ°ĂŁ Œ— here but bring a friend along who can help you.â€?

Defeated, I put the frames back. “At least I can order my contacts today.� “Not going to happen,� Kenny replied. “If you order the glasses and contacts at the same time, you’ll get a discount. Why waste your money?�

Although Kenny was right, he was also beginning to remind me of either an ultra-strict teacher or my mother.

I took my plus-size pupils and left. Until the next day when I snuck back and bought contact lenses Â ĂƒÂ“ 㨗 ÂŒÂźĂ¨Â— ÂĄĂ˜Â Ă‚Â—ĂœĘˆ a¨— ÂŒÂźÂ—ĂœĂœÂ—Â“ÂźĂş unopinionated technician who helped me said my glasses should be ready by the following Friday but I’d learned Ă‚Ăş ÂźÂ—ĂœĂœĂŠĂƒĘˆ , ô ã—“ Ă¨ĂƒĂŁÂŤÂź ZÂ ĂŁĂ¨Ă˜Â“Â ĂşĘƒ 9Â—ĂƒĂƒĂşĘ°Ăœ “ ú ĂŠÄ—Ęƒ ĂŁĂŠ Ă•ÂŤÂ?š 㨗Â Ă¨Ă•Ęˆ ,ĂŁ wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his constructive criticism, I just didn’t want to hear it again.

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Nell Musolf is a mom and freelance writer from Mankato.

She blogs at: nellmusolf.com MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 41

ĆŤĆĽĆ˜Ć¨ĆŠĆ˛ ƧƏƼơ

By Jean Lundquist

a¨— ĂœÂ—Â Ă˜Â?¨ ÂĄĂŠĂ˜ 㨗 Ă•Â—Ă˜ÂĄÂ—Â?ĂŁ Â?èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ And other tales of garden preparation

W

e were out on an adventure last spring when we found ourselves driving through "Â Ă˜ÂŤÂŒÂ Ă¨ÂźĂŁĘˆ , ã¨Ê袨ã ÂŤĂŁ Â ÄƒĂƒÂ— ãÂ— ĂŁĂŠ ĂœĂŁĂŠĂ•  ã "Â Ă˜Ă‚Â—Ă˜Ăœ Z——“ Â ĂƒÂ“ BĂ¨Ă˜ĂœÂ—Ă˜Ăş ÂŒĂş the railroad tracks there, to pick up my #Ă˜Â—Â—Ăƒ ,Â?— èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ ĂœÂ—Â—Â“ĂœĘˆ ,ĂŁ Ă´Â Ăœ  Â?ĂŠÂźÂ“Ęƒ Ÿ ÿú ZĂ¨ĂƒÂ“Â Ăş Â ÂĄĂŁÂ—Ă˜ĂƒĂŠĂŠĂƒĘƒ and we were the only customers when we entered the store, so we had the full attention of the lone clerk there.

Yes, she could help us, we said. We were looking for Green Ice cucumber ĂœÂ—Â—Â“ĂœĘƒ ÂŒĂ¨ĂŁ Â?ĂŠĂ¨ÂźÂ“ĂƒĘ°ĂŁ ÄƒĂƒÂ“ ĂŁÂ¨Â—Ă‚Ęˆ My heart dropped to my knees when she told us there were no Green Ice èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ ĂœÂ—Â—Â“ĂœĘƒ Â ĂƒÂ“ 㨗ú Ă´Â—Ă˜Â—ĂƒĘ°ĂŁ 42 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

Â˘ĂŠÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ĂŁĂŠ ¢—ã Â ĂƒĂş ÂŤĂƒĘˆ Ę­aÂ¨Â—Ă˜Â— ÂśĂ¨ĂœĂŁ Â Ă˜Â—ĂƒĘ°ĂŁ any seeds available,â€? she said. aÂ ÂšÂŤĂƒÂ˘ Â Â“ĂłÂ ĂƒĂŁÂ Â˘Â— ĂŠÂĄ Ă‚Ăş Â ĂƒÂ˘Ă¨ÂŤĂœÂ¨Ęƒ she sold me some Muncher cucumber ĂœÂ—Â—Â“Ăœ ÂĄĂ˜ĂŠĂ‚ 㨗 ;ÂŤĂłÂŤĂƒÂ˘ĂœĂŁĂŠĂƒ Z——“ ĂŠĂ‚Ă•Â ĂƒĂşĘˆ r— 㠟š—“ Â ÂŒĂŠĂ¨ĂŁ 㨗 ó cucumbers available from several seed companies, and agreed they sounded like a good bet. But — they aren’t Green Ice. aÂ¨ÂŤĂœ ÂŤĂœ Â ÂŒÂŤÂ˘ “— Ÿ ÂĄĂŠĂ˜ — Œ—Â?Â Ă¨ĂœÂ— , ŸÊó— Â?èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ĂœĘˆ a¨—ú ÂśĂ¨ĂœĂŁ Â“ĂŠĂƒĘ°ĂŁ ŸÊó— me back. I pay a high gastronomical price for eating them, as does everyone around me. Green Ice cukes were Â“ÂŤÄ—Â—Ă˜Â—ĂƒĂŁĘˆ SÂźĂ¨ĂœĘƒ ĂŁÂ¨Â—ÂŤĂ˜ ĂœÂšÂŤĂƒĂœ ĂƒÂ—ĂłÂ—Ă˜ ĂŁĂ¨Ă˜ĂƒÂ—Â“ bitter with age.

ZĂŠ ÂŤĂƒ Â Â“Â“ÂŤĂŁÂŤĂŠĂƒ ĂŁĂŠ AĂ¨ĂƒÂ?Â¨Â—Ă˜ Â?Ă¨ÂšÂ—ĂœĘƒ , am planting Diva cukes and something that popped up when I Googled Green ,Â?— Ę ,Â?— Ă˜ÂŤĂœĂ• Â?èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ĂœĘˆ Ă•Â Â?š—ã is expensive at $8.45, just as the Green Ice packet was, so I hope it is the same. ÂŤĂŁÂ¨Â—Ă˜ Ă´Â ĂşĘƒ , 􍟟 ¨ ó— ;HaZ ĂŠÂĄ cucumbers this summer! aÂ¨ÂŤĂœ ÂŤĂœ Ă‚Ăş Ă˜Â—Ă‚ÂŤĂƒÂ“Â—Ă˜ ĂŁĂŠ úÊè 㨠ã when you plant a green bean, a carrot or cucumber you really like, remember 㨗 ĂƒÂ Ă‚Â— ĂŠÂĄ ÂŤĂŁĘˆ a¨— ĂłÂ Ă˜ÂŤÂ—ĂŁĂş ĂƒÂ Ă‚Â— ĂŠÂĄ 㨗 seeds you plant matter.

While commiserating with the nice Ÿ “ú  ã 㨗 "Â Ă˜Ă‚Â—Ă˜Ăœ Z——“ Â ĂƒÂ“ BĂ¨Ă˜ĂœÂ—Ă˜Ăş ĂŠĂ‚Ă•Â ĂƒĂş ĂœĂŁĂŠĂ˜Â— Â ÂŒĂŠĂ¨ĂŁ 㨗 Â?èÂ?Ă¨Ă‚ÂŒÂ—Ă˜ situation, she told us of a nearly

100-year-old gardener who visits the store every year from his home near Madelia. He tells her he never plants his garden before Memorial Day, and he never has problems with blight or ÂŒĂ¨Â˘ĂœĘˆ Z¨— ĂœÂ ĂşĂœ ¨— Â?ÂźÂ ÂŤĂ‚Ăœ ô— Ă˜Ă¨ĂœÂ¨ Êèã ÂŤĂƒ mid-May to plant as early as possible, but we are doing ourselves a disservice in regard to garden and plant health.

I am not at all sure I can wait until Memorial Day to put in my garden.

ZĂ•Ă˜ÂŤĂƒÂ˘ "Â—ĂłÂ—Ă˜ ĂŁĂ¨Ă˜ĂƒĂœ ĂŁĂŠ #Â Ă˜Â“Â—Ăƒ "Â—ĂłÂ—Ă˜Ęƒ and the sole remedy is playing in the dirt while planting my seeds.

After being so proud of myself for transitioning from a garden several times the square footage of my house to a teeny tiny garden last year, I do need to make my garden a bit larger ĂŁÂ¨ÂŤĂœ ĂşÂ—Â Ă˜Ęˆ a¨— ĂœÂŤĂżÂ— Ă´Â Ăœ H9 ÂĄĂŠĂ˜ ÂźÂ ĂœĂŁ ĂşÂ—Â Ă˜Ęƒ and we had more than enough to eat, but ‌ Without chickens to take up my time this summer, I’m thinking I need Â ÂŒÂŤÂ˘Â˘Â—Ă˜ Â˘Â Ă˜Â“Â—ĂƒĘƒ ĂœĂŠ , ĂƒÂ—Â—Â“ ĂŁĂŠ ÄƒĂƒÂ“ Ă‚Ăş ÂĄĂ˜ÂŤÂ—ĂƒÂ“ Z Â ĂŁĂŠ ¨—ŸÕ ôã¨ 㨗 ÂĄÂ—ĂƒÂ?Â—Ęˆ ÂĄĂŁÂ—Ă˜ all, I have all those cucumber varieties I need to plant, plus a few new tomato and pepper varieties to install.

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Other Thoughts Before you set out your basement plants, or your nursery seedlings, be ĂœĂ¨Ă˜Â— ĂŁĂŠ Â¨Â Ă˜Â“Â—Ăƒ 㨗Â ĂŠÄ—Ęˆ a¨ ã Ă‚Â—Â ĂƒĂœ setting them outside in a protected, shaded location, to let the wind help them strengthen so they’ll survive in your garden. If you don’t, the sun and the wind can dehydrate them in an instant, no matter how much water you give them.

As you plant your tomato seedlings, especially if they are leggy, dig a little trench and lay them horizontally in the ĂŁĂ˜Â—ĂƒÂ?¨ 㨗 ÂźÂ—ĂƒÂ˘ĂŁÂ¨ ĂŠÂĄ 㨗 ĂœĂŁÂ—Ă‚Ęˆ aÂ¨ÂŤĂœ 􍟟 š——Õ 㨗Â ÂĄĂ˜ĂŠĂ‚ ÂŒĂ˜Â—Â ÂšÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ĂŠÄ— Â ĂƒÂ“ 􍟟 promote a robust root system.

Now is a pretty good time to divide your perennials (like hostas) and share with friends.

If you’re looking to help out Master Gardeners and support their local projects, AND get some sweet deals on plants, consider attending their spring sale on May 19th from 9-11 a.m. at the Â ÂźÂ—Â“ĂŠĂƒÂŤÂ Ă¨Ă˜ÂźÂŤĂƒÂ˘ ÂźĂ¨ÂŒ ÂŤĂƒ AÂ ĂƒÂšÂ ĂŁĂŠĘˆ Plants available include perennials dug ÂĄĂ˜ĂŠĂ‚ ĂŁÂ¨Â—ÂŤĂ˜ ĂŠĂ´Ăƒ Â˘Â Ă˜Â“Â—Ăƒ Ă•ÂźĂŠĂŁĂœĘˆ a¨—ú 􍟟 also be available to answer questions you have about vegetable gardens, Ä„ĂŠĂ´Â—Ă˜ ÂŒÂ—Â“ĂœĘƒ ĂŁĂ˜Â—Â—Ăœ Â ĂƒÂ“ ÂźÂ Ă´ĂƒĂœĘˆ

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ƼƳƸƘ ƶƷƼưƩ

By Ann Rosenquist Fee

SØÊÂʅ ,ãʰÜ ã¨ Ã ô ã ¹ ʢ Ø ʢÊ¡ʢ Ãʢ ¢¢ʢ à ʢ ÕØ ã à ʢ«ãʰÜʢ ʢ ú ¼ ÜÜ ʄ A ú «ã ܨÊè¼ Ãʰã ʊ

A

s neither the mother of a prom-shopper, nor the mother of any daughters, nor a person with any interest in taking down the fashion industry or retailers or producers of rhinestones, nor a professor of economics or gender studies, I feel

ÊÂÕ¼ ã ¼ú èà « Ü ¼ú ×è ¼«ă ãÊ Ü ú that contemporary customs regarding who buys prom attire — versus who rents and returns it, like so much «ÜÕÊÜ ¼ Üãèėʃ ¼«¹ 㨠ռ Üã« ú or the egg you take care of for a week in pretend-parenting-class, but then you give it back at the end, except your date can’t, because she didn’t rent her plastic baby or egg, she bought the damn thing — is maybe contributing to (or at least propping up) some girl/ boy inequities. ; ã  ¹ èÕ Ã Ü ú 㨠ã ,  in fact the mother of a person who went to a few West High proms, a few years ago. But he wore a traditional basic boy-tuxedo, which we rented the week before and returned the Monday after, and my only long-term concern was whether or not he’d incur a damage fee by spilling or tearing or losing some piece of the package — shirt, button things, tie, vest, shoes, a few other things I don’t recall right now but I don’t need to because we returned it. Gone. Not the problem of the boy-family of the prom couple, to deal with long-term-possibly-forever storage of a garment so a sister or cousin can wear it, or so you can later consign it at some out-of-town place where it won’t be accidentally bought 44 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

by somebody from the same school who would then die a fashion-social death from wearing it the next year, or so your family can fondly recall the memories of all proms by looking at all those dresses in all those plasticwindowed storage boxes.

Which, I assume, is where the dresses of his dates are living. I also assume that the total amount we the boy-family spent on rental tuxedos those three years, is approximately equal to a single one of the dresses

¨«Ü ã Üʰ ¡ «¼« Ü Ê袨ãʈ a¨ Ü discrepancies regarding cost and long-term what-do-we-do-with-this Ø ÜÜʢô ʢÃÊôʢHrB Ø ã¨«Ã¢Ü , Êüú realize now, like just right now, things I learned in the course of researching prom trends which I thought would make a great column for May. ʛʭZ ×è«ÃÜʊʊ «¢ ܹ«ØãÜʃ ã«¢¨ã ܹ«ØãÜʃ tulle?? What is UP for prom 2018?!?!”) a¨ ã ô Ü Âú «Ãã à â¼ ʃ èã then I got to talking with actual momprom-shoppers at area prom stores,

and you guys, or rather you moms Ê¡ ¢èúÜʃ «ãʰÜ ô¨Ê¼ «ė Ø Ãã 㨫âʈ à Ãã«Ø ¼ú «ė Ø Ãã ó ÃãèØ ã¨ Ã taking your kid to the tux rental place.

(I don’t know why I never knew this before, I guess because it would’ve meant comparing receipts with my kid’s dates’ moms during the parentpicture-taking parties beforehand, which were already awkward enough.)

Hà ÃÜô Øʊ #«Ø¼Ü «Ã Ø Ãã tuxedos. No hear me out. Ⱥʜ a¨ ú ù«Üãʃ Õ Ø ã¨ Ü ¼ Ü Üã ė ã A ù ãÊʰÜ SØÊ Z¨ÊÕ ô¨Ê ¼ÜÊ Ü ú they don’t get lots of those kinds of orders, which means you’ll stand out, which I think is the point of prom fashion. Ȼʜ a¨ Ø ô Ü ã¨ ã ú Ø 7Ê « "ÊÜã Ø wore an Armani tux to some awards thing, and she looked amazing, and I might be mis-remembering this in some kind of fashion mashup ô«ã¨ 㨠H¼Ü à ãô«ÃÜʃ èã , 㨫ù 7Ê « ܨÊô ¼Êã Ê¡ Üã ØÃèÂʃ ¼ÜÊ cleavage, making the tux a smarthot counterweight to a beautifully feminine focal point. a¨ Ø ¼ ÊÃèÜʃ ã¨Ê袨ʃ ôÊè¼ that at the end of the night, you’re Êà ʈ a¨ ¢ Ø Ãã «ÜÃʰã úÊèØÜ ãÊ steam, stain-guard, store, whatever.

Instead, just like your boy-date, you get the low-maintenance pleasure Ê¡ ÜãèĜâ ¼¼ ã¨ÊÜ Øú¼« Õ ØãÜ Ã pieces into a plastic bag, dropping the whole deal at the rental place, cherishing whatever memories you care to cherish about your prom and letting go of the rest.

Another answer, I guess, would be to convince the families of boy-dates that they should buy, not rent, prom ãèù ÊÜʈ ZÕ Ã ô ¹ à ¨ÊèØÜ Ã Â«¼ Ü ăà «Ã¢ ¶èÜã 㨠ث¢¨ã ʼÊØ Ã drape. Make sure he feels good and body-positive about himself in that dressing room with the mini-runway and the trifold mirror, like, make sure 㨠㨫â «Ü ăãã ÃÊ袨 ãÊ Ą ãã Ø èã ÃÊã ÜÊ ăãã 㨠㠨 Ãʰã Ü«ã Êôà ÊØ dance. Gasp when he walks out in the Ø«¢¨ã Êà ʈ a) Êà ʈ # ÜÕ ãÊ ¼ ã ¨«Â ¹ÃÊô ¨ ¼ÊÊ¹Ü Â ÿ«Ã¢ʈ ;«¹  Ãʈ ;«¹  à ôÊØ㨠ó Øú Õ ÃÃú Ê¡ 㨠ã price tag.

79

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HOME • FARM • COMMERCIAL 1951 Riverfront Dr., Mankto • 507-387-1171 www.candssupply.com MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 45

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Music on the Hill: Schubert and Brahms, 2 p.m. — School Sisters Of Notre Dame Good Counsel Hill — 170 Good Counsel Drive — Mankato — $17, $12 — mankatosymphony.com

Soap Making in the Big Red Barn 10 a.m.-12 p.m. — Center for Earth Spirituality and Rural Ministry — 170 Good Counsel Drive — Mankato — $30 — cesrm@ssndcp.org — 507-389-4272

Home Free: Timeless World Tour 2018, 7 p.m. — Verizon Center — 1 Civic Center Plaza — Mankato — $44.50, $34.50, $24.50, $19.50 — verizoncentermn.com

Falling Toward Beginning: The Gustavus Dance Company in Concert, 8-10 p.m. and 2-4 p.m. on May 13 — Anderson Theatre — Gustavus Adolphus College Č? 6W 3HWHU Č? )UHH Č? JXVWDYXV HGX ĘťQHDUWV

Modest Mouse, 7:30 p.m. — Verizon Center — 1 Civic Center Plaza — Mankato — $40 day of show, $35 general admission — verizoncentermn.com

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Ronnie Milsap, 7 p.m. — Verizon Center — 1 Civic Center Plaza — Mankato — $69.50, $59.50, $49.50 — verizoncentermn.com

Mankato Symphony Orchestra, Moving Pictures at an Exhibition, 3 p.m. — Verizon Center — 1 Civic Center Plaza — Mankato — $35, $30, $5, free for ages 11 and under — mankatosymphony.com/tickets

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MANKATO MAGAZINE • MAY 2018 • 47

From this Valley

By Pete Steiner

Grandma Jenny F

or nearly a century now, an eternity in technological time, Radio has continued to fill missing parts and silences in many people’s lives. So it did for Jenny Nordstrom. Don’t worry if her name doesn’t ring a bell — she lived in Pine City, in east central Minnesota, where I had my first paying radio gig. Everyone called her “Grandma,” and Grandma Jenny embraced radio’s “theater of the mind.”

At WCMP in Pine City in 1975, every on-air personality, even us weekend guys, was part of Jenny’s virtual family.

I was halfway through the radio course at the old Brown Institute on Lake Street in Minneapolis, skilled enough to land some weekend shifts at WCMP. I’d drive up Saturday morning to do the afternoon shift, then spend the night either on a cot at the radio station (we were a “day-timer,” required to sign off at sundown) or in a cheap room at the old Grant House in Rush City. I’d return for the Sunday afternoon shift, then drive 90 miles back to my Loring Park apartment to get ready for Monday classes.

It was probably my second weekend there, about an hour into my show, when the phone rang. A scratchy voice declared, “Pete, this is Grandma Jenny, how are ya doin’?”

It was as if she had known me forever. “Fine, how are you?” From then on, she would call me every Saturday and Sunday for the four months I worked there. She wanted to know where I was from and how I liked working at WCMP and if I had a girlfriend. She would inevitably insist that I should come over for some good Swedish coffee and cookies. Finally, after probably a dozen such invitations, I accepted, and the morning before one of my late-summer shifts, I pulled up at her tidy bungalow in Pine City.

I rang the doorbell, and a petite, slightly-hunched, neatly-dressed woman greeted me warmly, saying I was taller than she thought I would be. (I didn’t ask if she thought I was better-looking than expected.) She showed me around her longtime home, with its china menageries and hutches and curio cabinets and antique furniture, everything neatly arranged. There were plenty of framed pictures, of her as a lovely young woman with a perfect porcelain oval face, and of her husband when he was alive, in his military uniform. She’s not quite sure which war it was, and was there a difference, anyway? At 86, she smiled, you can’t remember everything. Then it was time for that coffee, strong and black, with some round, crumbly homemade sugar cookies. During our conversation, she gave me one of the highest compliments of my radio career: “You sound a lot like Steve Edstrom,” she smiled, referring to the then-rising star at the state’s 48 • MAY 2018 • MANKATO MAGAZINE

then-dominant station, WCCO (which is, you know, a fourletter word I should not be using …) I suppose I stayed for an hour. That was the only time we ever met in person.

••• Grandma Jenny had been down this road before, probably knew I wouldn’t stay in Pine City long. Their small regular staff was set; they doubled, as at many small-town stations, as managers and salespeople, able to cobble comfortable lives. People like me were needed only to fill weekend shifts — no way I could make a living there. And so, in the fall of 1975, I took a fulltime job in news at a different small-town station. (I eventually got back to Mankato in 1978.) But Jenny would keep up a correspondence with me, via occasional letters. Yes, that was the age of snail mail, an era whose passing this Luddite laments.

••• The last letter I got from Grandma Jenny arrived in February of 1979 (I just dug it out of my scrapbook.) I had apparently written to her in May of 1978; my life had changed substantially, and focused on other things, I wasn’t a consistent correspondent. She told me that at 90, she had grown very weak. She said she owed “so many people letters, but just can’t get myself to write … How are you girlfriends?” Yes, she made “girlfriends” plural. She told me the whereabouts and romantic status of every DJ I had worked with at WCMP, most of whom, like me, were now in different places. She signed off saying she was focused on her “home in Heaven,” adding, “God bless you, dear … I am going to pray for you.”

••• I basically lost track of all my connections to WCMP, so I don’t know when Jenny left this life. Yet every time I drive up I-35, say on the way to Duluth, for at least a few miles, I will tune in AM 1350 and remember that carefree summer when I had my first real radio job. I also had all you really need in radio: at least one listener who adores you, who is always tuned in.

Peter Steiner is host of “Talk of the Town” weekdays at 1:05 p.m. on KTOE.

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