Steve Fernlund and The Long Way Home

Thanksgiving ended last night. Today begins, television commercials notwithstanding, the run-up to Christmas in our family. Every year in our half-century together, my wife, whom I fondly call the Bohunk, was joyfully obsessed with every detail of the holiday, from finding just the right gifts to planning meals and baked treats, and especially decorating. If you know her, you know that she is an accomplished decorator — a talent I delight in, except when I have to hang and display groups of pictures on a wall correctly. She decorates the house for different seasons, but goes all out for Christmas, creating lasting memories that define our holiday traditions. Our long-time friend, Paul Mc, helped us unload the truck of personal effects we brought back to Cook County nine years ago. It was cold, windy, sleeting, and snowing the day we unloaded. Ask Paul, and he’ll tell you that he schlepped dozens of totes packed with Christmas decorations from truck to loft, shaking his head at the exce...

I’m an old cynic, having lived through some stuff. It’s said that people like me assume that behind every seemingly good or charitable act, there is a selfish motive. I don’t think that of everything, but I never drop my cynical radar until I’m sure about people or the organization they represent.  A few recent events in our area have reinforced my cynicism. Following the heels of financial mismanagement at the Cook County Health and Human Services agency, reports have emerged of financial and employee mismanagement at Community Action Duluth, a nonprofit organization dedicated to addressing the root causes of poverty and promoting economic stability for its residents. Additionally, elected public officials and hired bureaucrats in Hermantown and St. Louis County signed non-disclosure agreements with a private business hoping to build a massive “data center” in rural Hermantown, making it clear that they aren’t necessarily working in the best interest of the people.  Cynicism ...

When tragedies like airplane crashes, terrorist attacks, severe storms, wildfires, and, too often, school shootings happen, the media coverage is extensive and intense. Reporters and videographers seem to arrive promptly after the incident, and the story is on continuous repeat as the story develops. As the SS Edmund Fitzgerald slipped below the surface of Lake Superior fifty years ago, communication and video technology weren’t nearly as good as they are today. Still, Dave Anderson on the Duluth ABC affiliate WDIO-TV interrupted the "Monday Night Football" game on November 10, 1975, within hours of the ship going down to report that the Edmund Fitzgerald had sunk in Lake Superior. The station had received confirmation of the wreck and felt it was a story of significant community importance that needed immediate reporting, despite interrupting a popular program. Bill Hansen, now living in Grand Marais, was a recent college grad in 1975, working as a reporter and camera operat...

I am an early adopter of the written word. Although I’m too old to testify to the veracity of particular memories, I recall the prideful delight I took as a child when I could look at a jumble of letters and realize they represented an actual word. I’d repeat that word many times and work it into my ramblings until I discovered the next word, or my tormented parents shouted, “Enough already!” Not only did I see Dick and Jane in schoolbooks, I saw the words surrounding them. Fascinated, I decided that all I’d ever really need to learn in this life was already written down. All I had to do was find it. When I was kept out of school in third or fourth grade for an extended period because I’d contracted the "kissing disease,"  aka Infectious Mononucleosis, the school assigned me a tutor who came to the house periodically to keep me up to speed on what the teacher was forcing on the other kids. This woman was a passionate advocate for kids' reading. She told my mother that I s...