Steve Fernlund and The Long Way Home

The Book of Face recently reminded me of the eighth anniversary of our return to Grand Marais. On the day we unloaded the Uhaul, truck and trailer, an early winter storm greeted us with sleet, wind, rain, and snow. With the invaluable help of friends and family, we triumphed over the weather and settled into what we hoped would be our forever home, where we truly belong.  One of the joys of Facebook is the daily reminders of past experiences. As a long-time user, these memories often stretch back a decade, reminding me of events and people that fade all too quickly from my aging brain. As nostalgia wafted over me, I realized I’d been writing this column in the Northshore Journal for two months shy of three years. If you’re wondering, that means I’ve penned 148 columns, and based on my average word count per column, I’ve used enough words to more than fill the average novel. I am deeply grateful to Christine, the publisher of this wonderful community weekly, for taking me on as a fr...

At this point, the road ahead is much shorter than the road behind me. (I stole that from someone, but I can’t remember who.) So, for what it’s worth, here’s my take on the recent leadership departures in Cook County government.  If you haven’t followed local media, here’s the scoop. In recent months, Cook County EDA Director Theresa Bajda resigned in August after less than a year on the job. Jason Hale, who was hired to head the new Housing and Redevelopment Authority in April 2022, also took over the additional role of acting EDA Director when Bajda left. On November 8, he tendered his resignation. Between these two resignations, County Attorney Molly Hickens tendered her resignation to accept a job in the private sector. Then, County Administrator James Joerke resigned following the tragic loss of his wife to a vehicle accident in Kansas City.  Four crucial, albeit not mission-critical, positions were left vacant in a span of less than three months What could be happening? ...

Mom used to say, with obvious disdain toward whoever she directed it at, "They only worship the Almighty dollar!"  Dollars were scarce occasionally in my house, so I knew dollars were necessary but not omnipotent. We worshipped God and Lutefisk in that order. When I could, I worshipped baseball.  Doing post-high school planning, the allure of the almighty dollar became increasingly apparent. My parents, stretched to the limit supporting my older sister's education, explained that if I wanted to attend college and defer the draft, I would need to find a way to pay for it. This marked the beginning of my own pursuit of the almighty dollar without succumbing to its worship. The folks taught me, through osmosis, I suppose, to know when enough is enough when it comes to money. In the days following last Tuesday's presidential election, I've grown tired of hearing about what the Democrats need to do to bring more voters to the table, not to mention all the post mortems ...

I am not a handyman. I’m poorly suited for DIY stuff, as much out of nature as nurture. Roger Abrahamson and I grew up together on the mean streets of 17th Avenue in Richfield. Roger is a traditional wooden bowl-turner specializing in Norwegian ale vessels. He’s been a talented woodworker who uses hand tools, a pedal-powered spring pole lathe, and hand-forged tools for many years. He teaches wood turning at North House Folk School in Grand Marais and travels the country to demonstrate his art at county and state fairs and festivals. Roger’s paternal grandparents were Norwegian immigrants who settled in south Minneapolis. His grandmother’s ale bowl, which is still in the family, inspires him to this day.  When we were kids, we built a shed behind the Abrahamson’s garage that would be our clubhouse. Roger must have had some handyman skills. He was the oldest of the group and may have used his craftsman nature to get the building done. We enjoyed it for years. I, not handy even then, ...