Blog Archives

The Pecking Order with Brooster Rooster

9/26/2016

Great Northern News' Avian Travel Writer

Hello to you on this fine summer’s day in the Lakes Area. I awoke bright and early, as is my usual habit, to do my daily crowing. Well, okay, it was four in the morning, so it wasn’t quite bright. I know how well the neighbors love their faithful local alarm clock (that’s me) by the many cheers they send out their windows. Or, perhaps they’re jeers. But no matter, you know what they say, the early bird gets the worm.

In this case, the early bird gets the blueberry. I decided to check out our local peck-your-own berry farm. I was surprised to hear that humans, too, enjoy peck-your-own farms. I really thought that was a bird thing, since the humans don’t have beaks.

My goal was to get my girlfriend, the Little Red Hen, enough blueberries to bake a pie. Lord knows no one else will help her make one. I heard Farmer Dave was the man to see for fresh organic blueberries. I must say, the blueberries were plump, plentiful and very tasty.

Farmer Dave likes to surround his blueberry bushes with netting to keep varmints (like those thieving raccoons) from taking his blueberries without permission. Farmer Dave let me in, though, and I started pecking.

It took me a while to peck enough blueberries, mostly because the robins outside the mesh kept begging for some of the blueberries. I have to say, they were so delicious that it just felt wrong to keep them all to myself! I pecked them off the bushes and tossed them up with my beak. The robins dove and swooped and caught every single one.

The thing about these human peck-your-own farms is that humans don’t realize that chickens can’t carry wallets- no pockets in my feathers. Farmer Dave let me keep the blueberries out of the kindness of his heart, though, and in return I shall regale him with my alarm clock services. For him, I’ll crow extra early.

Little Red loved the berries and baked the perfect pie. She had lots of people offer to help her eat it.

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September 19th, 2016

9/19/2016

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Members of the “Texas 4,000” rode through Pine River July 14 as they made their way 4,000 miles from Austin, Texas, to Anchorage, Alaska.

In addition to their thousands of miles of pedaling, the group is raising money for cancer research. Each of the University of Texas student leaders taking part in the bike ride raises $4,500, volunteer in their communities and prepare for the ride with 2,000 training miles.

According to the Texas 4,000 website, the bike ride aims to share hope, knowledge and charity.

“We share hope by letting those touched by cancer know that we are riding for them and fighting for a world without cancer. We share knowledge by bringing life-saving information about cancer prevention to communities and providing leadership development training to tomorrow’s leaders. We share charity by contributing to cancer research and cancer support services while developing the next generation of volunteers and philanthropists,” the website states.

As they journeyed through Pine River, the group stopped to get a photo with Babe outside the Pine River Information Center. To learn more about the Texas 4,000 or donate to the cause, visit www.texas4000.org.

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Blueberry Smiths

9/12/2016

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By Jerry Mevissen
Author, The Nimrod Chronicles
Editor’s Note: This story came from The Nimrod Chronicles, written by Mevissen and published in 2003.
Blueberry Smiths. The name has a Little House on the Prairie resonance to it. It conjures up images of a family- mom, dad, and the kids- hiking in the woods, syrup pails in hand, descending upon a patch of wild blueberries and picking enough for a couple pies and a batch of jam, plus some more to sell. Well, that’s less than half the story.
The patriarch of the Blueberry Smiths was William E. Smith. He was born in 1848 and traveled by wagon from Villard, Minnesota, to homestead the family farm in Bullard and Lyons Townships in 1892. Mr. Smith declared the local water to his liking and credited it with curing his kidney trouble “without a drop of medicine.” William and Alice Smith had six children: Nina, Mason, Pearl, Belle, Edward and Burt. With all that available manpower, the Smiths amassed 1,100 acres and ran a herd of 200 milking shorthorns. Mina married and left the farm. Pearl and Belle didn’t, and they herded cattle until pastures were fenced. Later, they taught school locally.
In addition to the milking shorthorns, the Smiths raised sheep, goats, turkeys, ducks pheasants, and chickens. Mr. Smith crowed about the quality of clover hay he raised. He was an avid hunter and, from the looks of the family photograph album, a successful trapper.
Beside his agricultural and sports endeavors, Mr. Smith was an advocate of harnessing energy from the Crow Wing River to power industry in northern Minnesota. He predicted a government dam to conserve water and prevent floods.
And he still had time to pick blueberries!
Blueberry picking was a hot industry around here at the turn of the twentieth century. Newspaper accounts relate that a ton of berries was loaded at Sebeka and Menahga railroad depots each morning causing delays in the Great Northern passenger train schedule. Another report cites 400 crates of blueberries being shipped from Menahga each day to all parts of the United States. In 1920, the Great Northern southbound train carried 1,800 crates of wild-grown blueberries. The reporter speculated that this represents half of the crop, the balance being transported by auto by the pickers themselves. These crates weigh about forty pounds and sold for $3.15 each. Wouldn’t you like to have the Doane’s Liniment franchise then?
An article in a July 1919 Sebeka paper relates complaints of many farmers that transient workers are leaving fence gates open and tearing down fences to drive their cars through the pines in search of berries.
Blueberries were delivered by horse-drawn wagons to railroad sidings until the advent of the automobile. Blueberry production waned as the twentieth century developed and stopped by mid-century.
Youngest Smith son, Burt, and wife, Alice, had two children, Bill and Betty, who still live on the original homestead. Betty lives in the family house, which was built in the 1920s, next to the old ice house which still stands. Bill and wife, Sandy, live next door. Do they still pick blueberries? No, but the legend lives on. Betty says she is still reminded of her family’s reputation as the Blueberry Smiths.
I noticed on a walk down the driveway that berries are setting on the plants now. The old timers say it could be a good year- cool spring and plenty of late rainfall. A bowl of fresh blueberries would taste good now. At $3.15, I’ll take an entire crate.

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The Building of a Character in MN

9/8/2016

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  I was Simba! I ran up to my Grandma Hazel and lay next to her feet panting. I stuck my tongue out to Rawwrr with laughter! She would look at me and I would look at her, and she would be like what are you doing? I growled and swiped her feet under the computer desk. Then I would tell her to find me and I would sneak and crawl like an alley cat after its prey. Thinking today whenever my dad or mother would drop me off, she always had The Lion King popped into the VHS. She loved her Simba and I loved her.

That's me, Justin Charles Anderson-Bath. I thought I was really Simba and my Grandma didn’t disenchant me. When I was a kid I was a wild little rascal and I would be that kid to just grab you in the leg and scream and giggle at you for a response. I didn't know at the time but life was hard, mom and dad were stressed. You could feel the tension but little did I know what was coming next. The world that I thought was hakuna matata went down in the flames of Scar. Separations, women’s shelters, you name it. My parents ended up getting a divorce and my mother in the same exact month got hitched. I had no idea that this was even a plausible solution, a better alternative, a family bond. Anger entered my soul and I thought to myself, “Did I fail them? Was I the root cause and effect?” I lived with my dad, little brother, and Grandmother while my mom was hours away. Finally a few years later, after more negativity and battles at home, I finally decided that it was time to reconcile with my Mom and finish High School with her in Alexandria. I missed her and I craved her happy go lucky, kid-like personality that I had. Thinking back, it was not a pleasant time for me. I lost a lot of so called friends because of my weight and I didn’t sport the nice clothes.

I grew up in the Twin Cities, varying from Andover, Coon Rapids, and Anoka. Amongst all that city life has to offer, though, I always loved going to the family cabin in Deerwood, MN. A family homestead before I was even a twinkle in my parents’ eyes, it is a place of peace and a place of true freedom, not only in being but in mind. Nature and being a Minnesotan is something I’ve had the privilege in knowing, feeling, seeing and breathing.

In came more slings and arrows that can happen in one’s life. At 18 years old, my life changed. I found my mother at our home in Alexandria in the summer of 2009. It was dead silence, I could hear the birds fluttering, but in slow motion. The cars that drove by seemed like a vacant and unresponsive race towards the middle of nowhere. Breathing heavy, just thinking of the next move. The next step in my life, what I was supposed to do now. Moving forward, but in what direction do I take this burden that lay before me? All I could see for the next few years was the inflamed, rose colored revolver. I lost my Mother and one of my best friends. It made me grow up faster than most and made me realize that life is too damn short.

That's when I finally decided to go for the very thing I wanted so very long ago. Although going through much pain, it was as if Simba still lived in me.

I stumbled upon this conversation I had with a girl I used to work with at Medtronic in Brooklyn Center. She was an aspiring actress and told me about Caryn International, which at that time was located in Plymouth, MN. So I ended up taking her advice and I went in for an audition. I loved it, I felt love and passion. At that time I knew that this was what I was meant to be apart of. The theater: a place of freedom with no judgement, a place where human nature comes to life, a place most everyone has much to offer.   Momma was resting on my shoulders, her never ending love rested upon me, giving me a sense of calmness.

It was strange. Not long after this, things started to happen in my life in a positive way. I felt a sense of direction. I decided to fine tune my craft and training in the dramatic arts. It seems when you are ready, a teacher will appear. Right around this time I met a very talented artist named Douglas Dene Taylor, a writer, director, producer, stuntman, actor, horseman, you name it. Doug is an inspiration to many in multiple forms of the performing arts (oh, and don’t wrestle him). Serendipitously, he was casting Paul Bunyan for a marketing video for the Brainerd Lakes Area. I was so honored to represent our great state of Minnesota.

After the commercial I knew even more that this is what I truly wanted. Being on set, working with the producers and directors (Doug Taylor and Keith Eveland), it was everything I had dreamed of and more. Then, a little over a year later in late April of 2016, I went to the "City of Angels" and performed at the Universal Actors Showcase, which is held once a year with the top talent from across the U.S to Canada. There was a little over twenty of us. We all met some of the top agents in the business. It was an experience of a lifetime, and I later found out it was a career move. I will be moving to the L.A area after this summer to pursue my dreams. With a manager in Volony White and two agencies with high interest, the sky is the Limit. Eating that ever so sweet humble pie along the way. Working with Mr. Taylor is something so valuable, so unreal to think of seven years ago. Special thank you to Ole and Lena's Sweet Revenge for giving me the opportunity to bartend; much love and gratitude sent your way. Doug is such a great guy that wants to build and make northern Minnesota the stomping grounds of the Upper Midwest for the arts in all colors and shades. As it should be!!! The projects we have coming your way soon are going to break your fishing lines and crack your faces with smiles and an eruption of laughs.

In closing, it takes hard work to do this type of business, but it takes a true artist to follow through when the casting of stones are above you. We aim to please at Action Entertainment and no matter what happens in L.A, I am truly blessed and thankful for all the opportunities on this conquest in life. Stop in at Ole and Lena's, I'd love to fill your glass up and give you a smile or two along the way.

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Historical Archives: Early Logging in Minnesota

9/5/2016

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By Rich Engstrom
Photos Courtesy of A Taste of History

    Before there were farmers or resorts in northern Minnesota, there were loggers. In a world where almost everything was made of wood, there was a substantial demand for lumber. Most of the large trees east of the Mississippi River had been cut down and now the logging companies moved west.
    Many logging barons made vast fortunes as they moved west on their way to the Pacific Ocean. Though the work was hard and the hours long, they had no trouble finding men to meet the task of cutting down large crops of trees. Men from all over the nation traveled to the cutting to join a life of nomads, traveling from state to state following the cutting of the nation’s forests. They took pride in the work, bragging about how many board feet they had cut, talking about how hard they had worked, how cold it had been, and then heading into town to the nearest saloon to spend some of their hard earned payroll.
   Once all the timber had been cut in an area, they would move farther west and the work would start all over again. But the logging camps needed more than just lumberjacks. Cooks, dishwashers, horse wranglers, clerks, and teamsters were needed to ensure that the job of getting the logs out of the woods did not slow down in efficiency. Food was also needed, sometimes brought to the cooks by the locals in the form of either fish or animals hunted in the nearby woods.
    Teamsters were needed to go back to civilization to bring in supplies and mail. Some worked for the company, but some were independent contractors. After the loggers had left an area the independent teamster kept working his team by bringing in supplies to the settlers and delivering mail to the newly founded communities.
    The story of the loggers began as soon as the first settler landed on the shores of America. At first they cut the forests to build the homes and to clear the land for their crops, as the new land on the east coast was mostly forest. (It has been said that a squirrel climbing up a tree on the east coast could travel to the Mississippi River without touching the ground.) Then in the New England area, near the ocean, the tall trees were cut down to make the large sailing ships. Exporting lumber for ships was a profitable business as Europe was in much need to build up their navies.
     Logging in Minnesota started after the prime trees in the east were cut down. Northern Minnesota had the tall pines that the large sawmills wanted, but there was a problem of getting the logs to the sawmills.
    Crosslake, Minnesota, was chosen as an ideal area that would meet the logging barons’ needs. It was located on a large lake that emptied into the Pine River, which entered the Mississippi River on the way to a large sawmill in Brainerd. To get the logs to Crosslake the logging company built a railroad that moved north to Longville. Smaller spurs were built that would bring the logs to the main rail and proceeded down to the east side of Crosslake.
    The Crosslake camp had a cookhouse, bunkhouse, office, dance hall, store, a post office and also a blacksmith shop. Over one hundred men would sit down to the meals in the mess hall.
   Winter was the best time to cut down trees. Many men were needed to get the logs to Brainerd. A lumberjack would cut down the trees; another man would haul the logs out of the woods. Then men were needed to put the logs on the railroad cars. From there the logs made their way to the waterways in Crosslake.
    Logs had to be marked to indicate which logging camp owned the logs. Loggers were needed to move the logs down the river in the spring. They made their way to Brainerd where three to four hundred men worked at the sawmill 24-7.
    The logging camp in Crosslake was in the area of the Crosslake Fire Hall. The large Brainerd sawmill was located in northeast Brainerd in the area of the paper mill and on Rice Lake.
     As farmers moved into northern Minnesota they realized that the soil was good for growing towering pines but not very conducive for raising good crops. Many farmers would leave their families and travel to the logging camps to make extra income in the winter. Some farmers located by roadways would sometimes take in travelers to make extra money.
    Around 1910 the loggers moved out to Montana after clearing out all the virgin pines in northern Minnesota. Towns that used to have a good number of saloons and hotels for the loggers are today resort communities.
     For more information on logging in Crosslake see: A Taste of History compiled by the Crosslake Area Historical Society. The book can be obtained at the Crosslake Area Historical Village.
     Information on the Brainerd saw mill can be found in A Brief History of Early Northeast Brainerd by Ann M. Nelson of the Crow Wing Historical Society.

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Photography is Life

9/1/2016

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Article and photos by Jen Salvevold
Owner, PhotoJENic Photography

What is life? The experience of being alive.
What is photography? The art and process of taking pictures with a camera.
Why is photography life?

Do you ever feel so restless, like you always seem to be on the hunt for something? That has always been me. I have always been looking for something to make me feel alive. And I believe within that is the reason that during my years of “growing up,” I was told many times that I was too emotional. But it is partially true; I just feel too much and when I’m not feeling enough, I’m not satisfied with just existing.

But I was never sure how to channel that feeling of restlessness. My camera and intrigue with photography eased that anxiousness for me. Photography taught me that when I was bored or needed to fill my soul, I could do more than just look at or feel things… I could capture them. I could look at something, feel it, and then photograph it in my own creative way. It was this additional step I needed.

It all started with nature photography, mostly. Within walks in the park, I could stop and take a picture of a wildflower or prairie grass in the wind, ducks in a stream or a butterfly in flight. I could feel at peace and replenished. These beautiful, small moments made me feel alive. So soft, so innocent and so pure. Or days of stormy dark clouds and lightning, I could capture those intense moments and feel its power, rage and darkness. Growing up I had a Sucrets tin of keepsakes. Now it’s my camera.

I still absolutely love getting lost out in nature. I try to get out there every chance I get. But the last several years I have learned to let people in. I’m not as shy and to myself as I used to be. And people have always intrigued me. I loving photographing that beautiful newborn child with their parents’ tired eyes and their soft voice. Or that high school senior who loves to twirl in her new skirt and put flowers in her hair. The baseball player that’s so proud of his jersey and number; the little girl and her newly pierced ears and new shoes. People are amazing, and I like learning from them and of them. In a world where right now so much wrong doing that is plastered on the news, I appreciate these moments so much.

So I’m going to keep feeling too much, looking beyond what empty eyes don’t see and reaching out for more than to just survive. And I’m going to do it all with a click of the shutter. Life is the experience of being alive and I’m here to capture those moments for you and for my own restless soul.

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Great northern news

The Pecking Order with Brooster Rooster

Great Northern News' Avian Travel Writer

September 19th, 2016

Blueberry Smiths

The Building of a Character in MN

Historical Archives: Early Logging in Minnesota

Photography is Life

Archives

Categories

Great northern news

The Pecking Order with Brooster Rooster

Great Northern News' Avian Travel Writer

September 19th, 2016

Blueberry Smiths﻿

The Building of a Character in MN﻿

Historical Archives: Early Logging in Minnesota

Photography is Life

Archives

Categories

Blueberry Smiths

The Building of a Character in MN