The Long Way Home 2.27.26

Pronunciation matters to me—it signals respect for a place and its people. After last week's storm, I cringed as MPR radio hosts and local TV anchors reported on Hovland's snowfall record while continuing to mispronounce the town's name. Even at the hardware store, newcomers telling me they just moved in slipped up. Hearing Huv-land instead of Hovland grates on me, especially from the morning news. Precise pronunciation is a basic courtesy that's too often ignored.

Locals pronounce it HOVE-land, rhymes with “Cove.” In the fatherland, people likely pronounce it HOOV-land, rhymes with "Move.” However, it should never be called Huv-land, MPR newsreader. 

Yes, I have ties to one of Hovland’s early Swedish settlers, but this goes beyond personal history. Pronunciation shows respect, especially in my community. That broadcasters can’t get it right is baffling—they could easily check online. When those in power get it wrong, small lapses build into a broader climate of disrespect. 

Last week, a young news anchor butchered a court term: he said “soo-merry” judgment instead of summary (SUM-uh-ree) judgment. Instantly, I was alert to another avoidable mistake. 

Mispronunciation has bugged me for years. After moving to Las Vegas, I saw it again: people mangling the name of my new home state. Media and locals alike revealed a disconnect from local norms—something I notice every time, whether it’s Hovland or Nevada. 

Mispronounce it in Reno or Las Vegas, and someone like me will correct you fast. The correct local way is Ne-VAD-uh—natives insist on it. 

Too many outsiders say Ne-VAH-duh, borrowing the Spanish version, but to locals, it shouts 'newcomer.' Still another version exists: in Missouri and Iowa, the towns of Nevada are called Ne-VAY-dah—like Day.

All these examples have a link—mispronunciation reflects forced change. Daylight Saving Time, similarly, is imposed on the public. Next weekend, we’re made to “spring ahead” an hour. If you wake at 0600, that’s now 0700. Why do these unpopular decisions persist? They show how authority often ignores people’s actual preferences. 

On November 18, 1883, the major US railroads implemented a coordinated system of four time zones (Eastern, Central, Mountain, and Pacific). On this day, many towns saw their local clocks suddenly reset by several minutes to align with the new "Railroad Time." Residents of these towns were furious. They saw the railroads as "usurping the laws of nature and God" by changing the sun's time.

It took another 35 years for the U.S. government to officially codify these time zones. The Standard Time Act of 1918, enacted during World War I, gave the federal government the power to oversee time zones and assigned that responsibility to the Interstate Commerce Commission. The same act introduced Daylight Saving Time (DST) to the U.S. for the first time as a wartime measure to conserve energy. After WWII, national DST was repealed, and time became a free-for-all. States, cities, and even individual towns chose their own start and end dates for DST.

To end this "clocks gone wild" era, Congress passed the Uniform Time Act of 1966, mandating that if a state chose to observe DST, it had to follow a national schedule for "springing forward" and "falling back." States could opt out of DST entirely (like Arizona and Hawaii), but they could not (and still cannot) choose to stay on DST year-round without a change to federal law.

In January 2025, Senators Rick Scott and Marco Rubio reintroduced the Sunshine Protection Act to make DST permanent nationwide, ending the painful Spring Ahead and Fall Back routine. 

That bill is stalled again.

Today, 19 states (including Minnesota) have passed laws or resolutions to switch to permanent Daylight Saving Time. Known as trigger laws, they cannot be applied until Congress allows it by repealing the federal prohibition in the Uniform Time Act of 1966. 

If everyone hates the clock change, why is common-sense legislation stuck? This is another example of how the desires of the public can be ignored by those in power, just as with the disregard for correct pronunciation. From names to time changes, decisions sometimes fail to show respect or listen to communities. Ultimately, it boils down to a fight between two powerful groups: retailers, golf courses, and the tourism industry, who want permanent DST, and organizations such as the American Academy of Sleep Medicine and the PTA, who point to dangers like dark mornings for schoolchildren. The debate reflects how choices affecting people can overlook the wishes and well-being of local communities.

If you’re going to speak for us—or tell us when to wake up—the least you can do is learn how to say the name of the place where we live.