Dwight Lang (’61)

Rod,

 

Your dad, Howard Hiatt, and Dwight’s mother, Charlotte Lang, were siblings. Charlotte was my first grade teacher at Ackworth. Her picture below was taken in the Ackworth school too. As a child I remember our family being invited to a number of the Hiatt gatherings, most often held at the Peace Garden. We often visited Charlotte and Adam too, so I actually saw quite a bit of Dwight in my younger days. He graduated from HS when I graduated from 8th grade. After that I had not seen or heard much of Dwight until about 2004. I got his email address from Neola. When I sent him a message, he quickly replied with all sorts of memories from the past. From that point on we communicated on a regular bases. He often called me too. I enjoyed my visits with Dwight. With Dwight there no gray areas. He was straight and to the point with his beliefs. He had a heart of gold. He dearly loved his step children too. I was saddened when I heard of his death. Deleting his email address from my files was a hard thing to do. Dwight’s FB account is still active though.

 

Not long before Dwight’s passing, he sent me some money and asked that I give it to any gal I saw and tell her it was from a Sugar Daddy she had not met. The gal I gave that money to was quite suprised to say the least.

 

Gary

 

 

Evie,

 

That was a wonderful picture of you and Marlene Richard. For that reason I did not crop it. I do have some other pictures of you too, all good.

Yes, we ’65 folks will be 65 this year. I don’t know about you, but I expect to see 100.

 

Marlene graduated from Bottineau, but she started in Dunseith, so that makes her one of us too. She has a couple (many) of Dunseith relatives too.

 

Gary

 

Late one summery-fall afternoon, I was carrying a basket of laundry, from my dusty green Maverick parkedon Main street,intoDon’s laundry. The door was opened by an older man with the strong tipping“spirits” odor. Then, as I was stuffing clothes into a washer he approached and talked unintelligibly ,I responded, “Excuse me?”He mumbled again.

The back door opened, I heard the sound of hurriedly shuffling feet.A gruff voice hollered,“Get out of here, and leave her alone!The first man, mumbled “Sorry”, then mumbling and stumbling out the front door to another establishment up Main street.

 

As I gratefully turned, my rescuer, inquired in his gravely gruff voice, “Was he bothering you? “_____ “If he was I’ll…” Quickly, as a person who does not savor conflict, I interrupted , “No , he was saying something and I couldn’t quite understand him.”

 

Looking at me squarely in the eye, with that familiar low deep rumbling gruffness said, “Are you sure you are ok?I replied, “I’m fine and thank you!

 

Finally, my clothes were washed, dried and folded. As I was leaving, my rescuer commented “You’re a Metcalfe and“I won’t let anyone ever bother you when you come in here.”I thanked him again.Out the door, I went placing the clothes basket in the trunk and headed the Maverick north.

 

Arriving home, I told my dad my tale of being rescued and that I was surprised that the rescuer even knew my name.My dad said, “Oh, he’s been my friend since I was a kid when I skated on the ice at the Dunseith skating rink.

 

Dad told me a story about the Dunseith hockey legend and his brothers.

 

Over the years, I’ve told that story to his daughter Betty, a former co worker Dunseith elementary school secretary, his niece, Penny, a teacher I worked with in Montana and his grandson, a fine young nurse assistant at Bottineau Good Sam. I tell them of when my dad told me of their family member who was once the great Dunseith hockey legend.

 

Whenever I revisit those particular memories I think, “He was a caretaker at Don’s laundry and Dunseith hockey legend.He was also a father to kids I attended Dunseith school with, uncle to a teaching colleague and grandpa to a wonderful aide who worked with my mom.All those people are super worthknowing folks!

 

But, mostly the person I saw that day of doing laundry and remember was a true gentleman. GUFF FAINE, the man I believe, modeled and defined true chivalry. Thanks again.

Vickie MetcalfeJanuary, 2012

 

The Canadian’s name was Murray Duncan and he was from Virden, Manitoba. If you remember, he was a pretty good looking guy with a wrestler’s build. On closer inspection, you discovered he was blind in one eye from a fall from a hay loft as a child, he had one deaf ear because there was no hole there, and he was missing two fingers on his left hand from the time he was working on a combine and he passed two fingers between the belt and the pulley he was close to. He would tell the story about that accident and it went something like this: he was wearing a pair of leather gloves when the fingers went around the pulley. It hurt like hell for a second and then went to just a throb. He drove to the hospital and, when they removed his glove, his fingers stayed in the glove and that’s when he passed out. When he woke up, all the sewing was over, but, two fingers short. Murray was really a great guy and a lot of fun to be around. I haven’t heard of him since he left UND.

Bill