Willard Haagenson & Mary Ann Hagen

Article written by Gary Woodford (55)

TEACHER

FOREWORD

The ensuing story is an account of my experience with an unforgettable individual who was also my teacher during my first year of elementary school.

It is important to remember that although I relate this story as a young boy, much of my understanding and comments about him, came later as a result of my vivid memory of what he did as a teacher and why. The setting of this story is equally important, because it reflects the economic conditions of our country,the feeling of distrust of our elected officials, and the banking industry, coupled with a drought so severe as to challenge that ofOklahomaduring the same time period. It was a beautiful area that at times was uninviting due to extreme cold, and unpredictable weather.However this same area wasinhabited by strong willed and determined high plains people that looked for ways to solve their problems, and did so with resolve.These same people had a high regard for education, and were determined to ensure a proper education for their offspring’s.My own parents were among those great folks for which I am most grateful.Many of the young students in this area went on to perform a great service to their community, their State and our Country.I am certain that the teacher in this story must have had an influence on many of these during his teaching career.

The year was 1933, Franklin D. Roosevelt had just been sworn in as our new president, and the country was in the depths of a severe depression.This story takes place in theTurtleMountainsregion ofNorth Dakotathat was suffering a drought that was causing indescribable damage to the land and its inhabitants. This all sounds quite grim given the immediate outlook at that time, but to a 6 year old boy beginning his first day of school, nothing seemed to matter except the new adventure of attending school.The hot dry days of summer passed slowly it seemed, but finally the day arrived, and I trooped off with my three older siblings (Rolf, Borghild, & Ossie) into the next chapter of my life.

We walked on wagon trails that wound through deep woods, around meadows and over dry creek beds for a mile and a half until we caught sight of the little school.There were children playing near the building and then I saw a tall man waiting on the steps of the school. I asked my siblings who he was, and they said that he must be the new teacher they had learned was going to teach us this year.As we drew near he calledouta greeting to my older siblings, and asked their names, after looking at a note book he had in his hand, he turned to me asked them , “who is this young man? They told him that I was their younger brother and that I was just starting my first year. He smiled shook my hand and asked, can you tell me your name?I stammered my name, Erling, and he smiled and said “you must be Norwegian”.I nodded and he directed me inside to a seat. After a few minutes he took a small bell from his desk, went out on the porch and rang it summoning everyone inside to begin school. He began by calling out names and asked the pupil what grade he or she was in, then he seated them at appropriate desks. This took only a short time, but at the end of the seating arrangement he noticed four boys who looked older than my oldest brother Rolf, and Rolf was 14 years old.The teacher asked them if they wanted to attend classes.They told him that they were just going to watch.The teacher said that this would not do, and they should leave.The leader of the group stepped forward a few paces towards the teacher and said that they did not have to leave and that they were going to stay. After hearing this the Teacher took a couple of quick steps toward the leader, grabbed him by his shirt front and loudly told him, “I said leave”, whereupon he gave the boy a shove that sent him sprawling in the aisle.There was a dead silence in the room, and the big boys looked at the Teacher in astonishment and quickly left the school.The Teacher turned to the students in the class room and said, “Those bullies won’t bother you any more and you are here to learn and I intend to see that you do”.I learned later that the boys that the Teacher had directed to leave had been bullying students and intimidating lady teachers for the past couple of years, and so the school officials felt that it was time to stop it.That was quickly accomplished by our new Teacher, Mr. Harry Larson! That was his name and as he stood at the front of the room he wrote his name on the blackboard, repeated his name and told us that we could address him as Mr. Larson, or Teacher, and that he was there to help everyone learn and ask him questions anytime except for the time he was conducting a class.

Mr. Larson began with my two classmates and myself, by giving us instructions on how to write our names. And to keep practicing until we could do it well. He continued by giving us an encouraging word, he must have known how surprised and fearful we were after the initial scuffle that took place. His manner with us was entirely different and we began to look at him with admiration and wonder, as I believe all the students did. The morning recess came and ended to soon we thought. Mr. Larson continued to assign work to each class until the noon hour.We all had our lunch and began playing when Mr. Larson came out to the small playground and called everyone to gather around.After all were near, he asked how many of us would like a place to play ball. Everyone held up their hands or shouted yes.Mr. Larson pointed out an area east of the school and said, we will have to clear that land right there and we will begin tomorrow, and I expect you to all help during your morning and noon recess. The very next day, Mr. Larson brought an axe and at the morning recess instructed the older boys to pile up the small trees and brush as he cut it. He gave the girls a rake and a basket and told them to haul the leaves and twigs to a designated place off the playground.Everyone had something to do, and after about two weeks of hard work, the area had been cleared of the undergrowth and small trees.A nearby farmer brought a horse drawn disc over and leveled the ground so the players could run without stumbling.Mr. Larson gathered us all together at the new ball field and told us that we had a new ball diamond because we were willing to work and build one.Then he said the same applies to your school work, if you want to learn and have good grades, you must work for it. We all grew quiet; I will always remember that lesson. Looking back, onecould say it was basic, but I think it was more than a simple basic lesson, consider how we learned to set goals, we learned creativity and planning, we learned working cooperatively for a common goal, we learned consideration and compassion for each other as we moved towardsthe final outcome. Mr. Larson was more than a teacher of reading, writing and arithmetic.He taught human values that would sustain us for a lifetime.

We had given up some of our play time to achieve a ball field, but we had not given up class time, and with the encouraging words from Mr. Larson, the classes forged ahead with surprising result. Report cards that we all compared before bringing them home for our parents to inspect and sign began to show better and higher achievement signs.Deportment was also considered quite important by Mr. Larson, and the improvement in that area was also evident. I remember listening to older classes recite, and at times Mr. Larson would use a competitive quiz to spark more interest, and just when one would think he would only ask those who were waving their hands, he would walk down to the silent student and quietly ask for an answer, to the question he had just posed.Most times the student knew the answer but was to shy to enter into the noisy portion of the quiz.By going down to the student and receiving a correct answer he would say loudly, “that is correct” I know this helped the shy student build up self confidence.I know, because Mr. Larson also used this practice on myself, for which I am most grateful.He seemed to have an uncanny way of increasing a students desire to learn.

In those early days, there was no PTA, but Mr. Larson, simply visited the homes of the children that attendedLoonLakeSchool# 2.This gave him the opportunity to discuss the child’s progress with the parents, and to get an understanding of the child’s home life and get acquainted with the parents. As I reflected on these visits, it became increasingly apparent that he was accomplishing more than a single purpose, he began a friendly relationship with the parents, he looked for anything that might be the cause of a behavioral problem, if there were any and also find ways to improve the students study skills. By late October he had completed his visits to the families, and of course he had also visited our home.On that day, he walked home with us, and mother invited him to stay for supper.He accepted, and as the meal progressed, he discussed each of us with our parents.It went quite well for all of us and after the discussion, he looked around at us and said, they are doing quite well, but there is always room for improvement.I believe that was his way of saying that we were all doing O K. but he always encouraged us to do better.WhileMr. Larson, Mother and Dad were finishing their coffee, Mr. Larson mentioned that he had learned of our parents talents for music, and asked if they would play a couple of numbers for him. Mother and Dad never refused a request if they had time, so Mother seated herself at the piano and Dad took down his Violin and they proceeded to play a couple of classical numbers. Then Dad turned to me and said why don’t you get the banjo and show Mr. Larson how you can play.I had pestered my Dad for the past year to help me learn some simple chords on the banjo, and Dad was more than happy to do that, but I was pretty nervous when it came to playing for Mr. Larson, but Dad asked me, and I knew better than to disobey.We all three played some folk tunes, with my brother Ossie chiming in with his harmonica.When we finished Mr. Larson applauded and said he enjoyed the entertainment, then he excused himself and said he had to leave. After he left, Mother and Dad remarked that he certainly appeared to be a good man and surely was interested in our education,

Mr. Larson had innovative skills in dealing with nearly everything he was faced with.As winter came on snowy and cold, the recess activities were addressed in the most unusual ways. Because of the depression, the school district had no funds for playground equipment, so Mr. Larson proceeded to invent team games, using whatever materials were at hand, such as fire wood, logs, and an imaginative mind.The result was a game called by steal stix. A very exciting game that gave all the students an opportunity to participate.The game provided great physical exercise, good balance and quick decisions on the part of the players.This game was played outside only when weather permitted.On bad days, Mr. Larson organized tic tac toe contests between teams of players, and they used the two large blackboards at the front of the room. He used the little board on the east side of the room to teach us younger folks how to play the game. Sometimes he even let us make paper airplanes, and then he instructed us about air currents by flying a paper airplane over the warm air register atthe front of the room, explainingthat warm air rises and cold air falls toward the ground, and how it affects airplanes. A short physics lesson to think about.He applied learning to virtually everything including our recreational time. Attendance was very good, and reflecting on it years later, it was because he used many unusual ways of teaching that opened up new worlds for the students, and the students found themselves eager to learn more.

The days passed quickly and soon we found ourselves preparing for the annual Christmas program. Mr. Larson approached the program with the same enthusiasm as other academic work.He handed out dialogues, for the Nativity scene, then he listened to trial readings, and chose the participants by their ability to perform well, giving other parts to those who preferred less exposure. Everyone worked hard on their parts, and Mr. Larson was very determined to teach all of us the true meaning of Christmas, in the Christian sense, and avoided chatter about Old Saint Nicholas, or Santa Claus, although he never objected to students talking about it on their own time.The Christmas Carols were rehearsed and rehearsed until Mr. Larson was satisfied with the performance. On the day before the program, Mr. Larson asked me to bring my banjo to school. During our final practice, Mr. Larson asked me to play the banjo and then he assembled about 6 boys and told them to sing Oh Susannah, while I played the Banjo. Everyone knew the words because the song was heard a lot and was heard on many records of vaudeville entertainers.After he heard us, Mr. Larson said he was going to have us entertain the next night. The evening of the Christmas program was a beautiful and somewhat warmer evening, and our little school was filled to overflowing with parents and neighbors. The Program was an important part of the school curriculum, and about the only live entertainment in our little neighborhood, given the state of the nation, and the distance to the nearest town. The program went well, and just before the closing Carol, Mr. Larson trooped out myself and the 6s boys including my brother Ossie, and with a smile announced to the people gathered in the school room that he had a special treat for everyone, where upon he signaled to us to begin.He had placed some old straw hats on our heads and we sang Oh Susannah at the top of our lungs with me doing my best to play the banjo.At the end of our number the applause was deafening.The closing carol was Silent Night, Holy Night, and Mr. Larson asked everyone to join with the students in that beautiful Christmas song. The response was immediate as if the whole world were raising their voices to Heaven. Whenever I recall that particular Christmas, I believe something special happened that night and the entire crowd sang as one that brought a sacred aura into our little school. Somehow, Mr.Larson had managed to reach the people witha message of hope that Christmas that brought them peace of mind despite the many problems that prevailed, and also to give theman opportunity to laugh and enjoy our little act, all in a way that must have given anxious parents a more positiveand optimistic outlook. Harry Larson distributed the bags of candy for all the children, including yours truly and when he handed me my bag he whispered a thank you for the banjo music. Everyone there exchanged Christmas greetings and enjoyed a good old fashioned visiting session.Then it was a ride home on the bob sled and enjoy the two weeks of vacation ahead.

When we returned after our Christmas vacation, we found that we had more snow to walk through and the temperature seemed determined to stay below zero most of the time.No Matter, Mr. Larson continued to urge all of us to improve in our particular grade, and make every effort to make the last half of the year just as good as or better than the first half.I found myself and my classmates doing work in the second grade, Mr. Larson also encouraged us to memorize many things because he said when you have memorized them you will always remember them when you need them the most. I also remember his lesson in honesty and ethics very well.One of the students in a higher grade was caught cheating on a test they were taking.Mr. Larson asked the student why he hadn’t studied the text book so he would know the answers to the test questions.Then he said, “If you got away with cheating, do you think it would be fair to deceive your parents by having a grade you didn’t deserve”.Then he turned to the rest of the class and said that if you cheat on a test you are only cheating yourself, because sooner or later you will be found out, and then you would be considered not trust worthy and undependable.He explained further that if you fail to get a top grade, at least the grade you got was an honest one and that if you really want to you can improve by studying harder. The school year ended with all of the students maintaining a great attendance record, and a marked improvement in their grades,learned this from my older siblings.Mr. Larson did not return to LoonLakeSchoolthe next year, and we missed his way of making learning an interesting way of life.I saw Mr. Larson 4 years later when our family moved to Dunseith for one winter, and our 5^th grade class had a math class across the hall in an adjoining classroom.I walked into the class room and looked at the front for the teacher and there was Mr. Larson. He noticed me at about the same time, and he came to my desk and called me by my name, shook my hand and asked about myself.I was delighted to receive so much attention from him, but then I remembered that he treated all his students that way.I never saw My Teacher after that, but I am often reminded of him and have never forgotten the way he taught, and great lessons he taught us all

He made our schoolwork an adventure in learning, which only encouraged us to study harder and learn more.We also learned about Ethics, Honesty, Compassion for others, Fair Play, Courtesy, working together respect and Belief in Deity, Help one another.I am sure that many teachers work very hard to help their students in similar ways, but to me Harry Larson is the epitamy of what a teacher should be. Finally I would be remiss if I didn’t relatethis humorous incidentthat aptlydescribeshim as a teacher; My sister borg had the good fortune or seeing him at one the earliestall school reunions held at Dunseith, wherein the course ofdiscussing old memories she asked if he remembered how embarrassed her and her class mate Florence Christianson were when he had them demonstrate some foolish prank they weredoing when Mr. Larson caught them, andthen suggested firmly that they should perform this prank in front of the entire school, which they did.Yes he said, however he said, “you deserved it didn’t you”?He laughed and gave her a hug.

Most of us have a teacher or someone special whom we remember with fondness and respect.I am certain that Harry Larson has many of his former students including those who are not with us now that number in the hundreds as someone we all remembering with fondness and respect.

Dorothy Rober’t

March 25, 1933-Oct. 18, 2009

ROLETTE Dorothy Ardis Rober’t, 76, Langdon, formerly of Rolette, died Sunday, Oct. 18, 2009, in a Langdon hospital of injuries suffered in an automobile accident near Langdon.

She was born March 25, 1933, to Elmer and Isabella Hjelden in Minnewaukan. She married O.J. Rober’t on Dec. 2, 1950, in Dunseith.

Survivors: daughters, Carol Braun, Osceola, Wis., Darla Armstrong, Rolette, Dianne Johnson, Rolla; sons, Duane, Hiawatha, Kan., Russell, Wahpeton; 10 grandchildren; seven great-grandchildren; brothers, Burton, Greenbrier, Ark., Lloyd, Leeds, Ronald, Deer River, Minn., Sydney, Two Mexico, Mexico, Vernon, Grove, Okla., Larry and Paul, both of Minnesota; sisters, Helen Stalvik, Binford, Barb Solberg, of Dorothy, Minn., Marlene Petri, Langdon.

Funeral: Friday, 2 p.m., Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Rolette,

Burial: Island Lake Cemetery, Rolette.

Rosary service: Thursday, 7:30 p.m., in the church.

Visitation: Thursday, one hour prior to the service, in the church. (Elick Funeral Home, Rolla)

Gary,

Here’s the last part of the entire one page article about these two fine business owners in our little Dunseith community. I had the pleasure and privilege of working for Lawrence Struck in Hosmer’s Store after school and Saturdays during my high school years. I felt he had high expectations of me and I tried to live up to them. Helen Nelson and Evelyn Pladson were long time working partners and were just the best. It seemed they knew every family, name, and face in and around the town..unlike me. It was great fun though to meet and greet all the interesting characters and patrons in the town. These people bring many warm memories.

Paulette

Obituary provided by Neola Kofoid Garbe: neola@min.midco.net Minot & Bottineau, ND.

DUNSEITH Janice Leigh Poitra, 56, Dunseith, died Sunday, Oct. 18, 2009, in her home.

She was born Oct. 4, 1953, to Emil and Elizabeth Metcalfe in Seattle. She married Raphael Poitra in September 1978 in Valley City.

Survivors: husband; son, Jaime, Dunseith; daughter, Kelly Olson, Bottineau; two grandchildren; sister, Elaine Metcalfe, Grand Forks; brother, Travis, Meza, Ariz.

Funeral: Thursday, 10 a.m., Peace Lutheran Church, Dunseith.

Burial: Little Prairie Cemetery, rural Dunseith.

Prayer service: Wednesday, 7:30 p.m., in Nero Funeral Home, Bottineau.

Visitation: Wednesday, 10 a.m. to 9 p.m., in the funeral home.

Condolences to the Robert and Metcalfe/Poitra families

From Aggie Casavant (69): Fort Mill, SC

To The Dorothy Robert & Janice (Metcalf) Poitra Family

So much saddness right before the holidays…My thoughts, prayers, and sympathy goes out to both families. Sincerely, Ms. Aggie Casavant

DOROTHY ROBERT, 76, Langdon, formerly of Rolette, died Sunday in a Langdon hospital. Funeral Friday, 2 p.m., Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Rolette. (Elick Funeral Home, Rolla)

Lucille Strietzel was Don Johnson’s (Dick’s Dad’s) Aunt.

Lucille Strietzel

March 25, 1924-Oct. 17, 2009

ST. JOHN Lucille Louise Strietzel, 85, Rolette, formerly of St. John, died Saturday, Oct. 17, 2009, in a Rolette nursing home..

She was born March 25, 1924, to Ernest and Rose Dawson in Rolla. She married Carl Strietzel on June 27, 1943, in Portland, Ore.

Survivors: sons, Ronald, Anaheim, Calif., Carl, Huntington Beach, Calif., Donald, Lakewood, Calif; daughters, Carlette Timm, Anaheim, Sheryl Aird, St. John; 14 grandchildren; 13 great-grandchildren; sisters, Louella Timlick, Issaquah, Wash., Evelyn Albright, rural Rolla.

Funeral: Wednesday, 10 a.m., St. John Presbyterian Church, St. John.

Burial: Rolla City Cemetery, Rolla.

Visitation: Wednesday, one hour prior to the service, in the church. (Elick Funeral Home, Rolla)

Memories of Janice Metcalfe Poitra

From Daina Honsey Fiebiger (71): Cooperstown, ND

What a schock. I have great memories of playing with Janice when we were younger. The fun we had sitting around singing with her sisters. Our prayers go out to the famiy. Janice was a beautiful person and will be greatly missed.
Diana Fiebiger (71)

Update on Florence Pladson Sime (62)

From Keith Pladson (66): Stafford, VA

Response to Neola Kofoid Garbe, Re: Florence Sime. Thank you for the web site to send messages to those in ICU at Trinity. I use it daily to send short messages to my sister. She has had surgery on her elbow, her shoulder and her hip and will have surgery on her wrist on Wednesday morning. She is doing pretty well, but has a lot of pain. Her wrist is the most painful, but she also has trouble breathing as she suffered eleven broken ribs in addition to all the other broken bones. I would not want to ever go through what she is going through, but she is a very strong person, so I’m sure she will meet each challenge she will have to face going forward. Thank you again, Neola. Keith Pladson (66).

Repost of Neola’s message

Reply From Neola Kofoid Garbe: Minot & Bottineau, ND.

 

Gary,

 

I was shocked/stunned/etc. to read of Florence Sime’s accident. I’m including a site where emails may be sent to her. I think the emails are read once per day (probably morning)/the messages are printed on card, along with who sent them/delivered to the patient later in the day. Wally received several of them when he was hospitalized. I’m sure Florence would enjoy hearing from friends/family/etc.

 

Neola

 

http://www.trinityhealth.org:80/Greeting/MailPatient.asp

Gary and friends,

I sent my… Metcalfe Kith and Kin the exact same info regarding Brandon, in today’s + a personal note.

Within a few hours I received from Laverne our Canadian Cousin,(her father was.. a James Alexander Metcalf) We met Laverne only once in person at our 1980 Metcalfe reunion. Her response I’d like to share with all family and friends of Brandon.

Thanks for the unfortunate news about Brandon Halvorson. Sorry to learn about his accident. I have placed him on our intercessory-prayer list. He’ll be prayed for every night.Would you keep us up to date on his progress?

We’ll believe for the best for this young man. We’ll see a real blessing worked out in his life!!

take care, love , Laverne.

Folks, It’s taken me two years to find Pam Lagerquist, but I found her. I first located her mother and she was able to give me Pam’s phone number. She remembers her Senior year well at Dunseith. She was only in Dunseith the one year.

Note: Pam is not related to the John Lagerquist family. Gary

 

 

Pam Lagerquist & Dan McKay

 

Got your email the other day suggesting I send some pictures of us 4 classmates who try reunite on a regular basis. While going through boxes of old photos, I found a picture of our ’68 class and one of the Grimme twins taken at our 25th HS reunion ( more than a few years ago.) Thought it would be nice to see the two of them together. Betty Hackman, Beverlie LaValilie, and Janet Parril were at the union, but somehow we missed getting them in the picture. I’ll send more of “us girls” later. For now I’m almost literally knee deep in photo albums and don’t know how I’ll put these back!

Thanks,

Paulette

This is a great photo. I recognize a lot of you folks in this photo, but not nearly enough of you to start listing names. I need some help. I will repost with names. Thanks, Gary

It was a shock and I was very, very sad to read that Janice (Metcalfe) has passed. Janice was a great person – always friendly, always smiling. She was my classmate and I considered her my friend. I know she will be missed. My condolences to Raphael and her children – and her entire family. God bless.

Paula Fassett-Pfuhl

Ivy, our condolences are with you, and the whole Robert family with the passing of Dorothy. Gary

20 Sept. 09

Yet another perfectly beautiful day inNorth Dakota.

Hi Gary,

You could not have conceivably anticipated the incredible pneumonia you would generate and create with your project to compile a directory of DHS graduates.My wife is baffled and bewildered by the outpouring of loyalty and love expressed in your dispatches.Some months ago, Jack Flynn telephoned to inquire why I was not contributing.Jack is well aware that I am a professionally trained and experienced historian and story teller, absolutely dedicated to truth and accuracy.So the following is for “Uncle Jack”.

Few know or care that the Morgan’s, Marjorie and Kenneth lived in Dunseith during the early 1930’s. That is how I came to be born in Bottineau.The first glimpse my mother and of her beautiful lovely boy, my head was covered with blood.Nurse said I was beating it against the circle, no doubt about that.I have not spent a night in the hospital since.Mother always contended that the nurse had dropped me on my head.Mother said that explained a lot.

As soon as I could walk I commenced to run away.Consequently I was tied with a piece of clothes line to the clothes line behind my grandparents, Harriet and Harley Watkins.As I was straining against my leash, around the corner of the house came an older boy running at full speed.He caught my leash across his throat, which stopped and dropped him.I was projected up into the air.As Billy Jack Hosmer observed my graceful arc across the sky, he determined then and there to become a world class flier and pilot. I landed on my head.Mother said that explained a lot.

Dick Morgan (52)

Supt. “Big Ed” Conroy used to say the class of 52 was the “Quality Class”, well of course!We had both Don Hosmer and Kick McKay.

Dick, Thank you so much for sending me this letter. I hope I have typed it all correctly. Please let me know of any mistakes I may have made. I have a question for you. With what you say in this letter, you are getting these daily messages. I don’t have an email address for you in my files though. Gary

Question from Dick Johnson’s Aunt, his mothers sister.

Shirley Olson Warcup (49): Ivans, UT

Shirley, It has been a long while since San Haven has been discussed. Many folks have been added to our distribution since that topic was discussed. I will let Allen or someone else re-address this subject. I will tell you this much, it’s a shame what has happened.

 

I got a personal reply from Brenda Hoffman to yesterday’s message telling me her husband is a retired Periodontist (Doctor of the Gums). I’m thinking you have a son who is a dentist as well? You have never said, but I think that is what I heard a while back with something that was said. Gary.

Ricky Kuhn’s address in Kosovo

From his dad Mel Kuhn (70): melkuhn@utma.com St. John, ND.

Reply from LeaRae Parrill Espe (67): Bottineau, ND.

Someone mentioned Mr. Lykins yesterday and I, too, had been thinking of him yesterday as I was substitute teaching in the “keyboarding” class. They have to use cardboard keyboard covers so they can’t peek at the letters. I shared with them how our old Royal typewriters did not have the letters on the keys so we did not have any chances to peek. (One kid said he had seen one those typewriters and knew what they looked like!) So where have you been hiding Mr. Lykins. You haven’t been attacked by a Side Hill Gouger, have you? Does anyone else remember celebrating Side Hill Gouger Days? They were introduced to us by Mr. Lykins.

LeaRae, you need to wonder no more with Mr. Lykins reply below. Gary

Bob Lykins (DHS teacher in the mid 60’s) reply: Hutto, TX.

Vickie, You are so right. What a memory. I am pasting Lynn Henrikson’s message below that she posted with message 367 on February 10, 2009. I have highlighted in bold blue what she has to say about Hal. Gary

 

Previously posted with message 367 – 2/10/09

Reply from Lynn Henriksen (64):

 

 

Yes, of course I remember Dot & Tommy Hagen! Mom loved you both so much. I always remember you as being so nice & fun. The names you just brought up & even the mention of the cabin behind Kelvin bring up so many wonderful memories – it actually brings tears to my eyes and tightens my throat, so I’m glad I can type, not have to speak right now, since I’d break down bawling. Seems like a million years ago – and the stuff we each have tucked inside can be triggered so easily by just the mention of a name. Thank you for think of us!

Briefly, Dana and Rick and families are all happy & healthy – Dana in Idaho, Rick in Oregon (1/3 of the time in Baja developing his “casa” project).

And yes, all the play time & boyhood memories between Markey and Hal. Hal had a horrible, crippling accident about 20 years ago – he is amazing, doesn’t let quadriplegia stop him – has a beautiful “saint” of a girl friend, writes, etc. I’m sure he’d love to hear from Markey & from you two – don’t know if I should put his email address in this reply, so please email me at & I’ll give it to you.

Keeping Spirits Alive,

Folks, this is a personal message that Vickie Metcalfe sent to me with some of our one on one correspondence. I have her permission to share this wonderful message with you.

Alcoholism is a devastating disease. There are quite a few folks I know who lived in tough home situations. After leaving Dunseith, while attending graduate school I came to understand the disease and realized I would have been a perfect enabler. Whooeee. Insight.

As an elementary counselor in Montana, I was fortunate to work for a school board and administration that encouraged all certified staff to gain further education in understanding the disease concept of alcoholism to help children in prevention.

I owe so much to that school system who enabled me to continue growing as a person. But, I owe even more to those kids who shared with me their pain.

This another lesson of life, any time a kid shares emotional pain with me I am humbled and honored.

Particularly kids who live with their unspoken family rules, “don’t trust, don’ feel and don’t talk” . As each layer of education from classes and lessons from kids who’ve walked the walk. I automatically start recognizing family roles; ie “The active alcoholic, the charming alcoholic, the dry drunk, the co-dependent, the perfect child, the lost child,the troublemaker, the family clown.”

I strongly believe in the power of hope. I found through this life journey parents who got involved in their recovery through the 12 step process and ended up in being the most awesome healthy parents I’ve worked with.

Children of alcoholics need to believe in hope. And kids need to learn there’s a genetic pre- disposition in this disease. If they can recognize they are at risk so much can be prevented. Oh boy, here there I go again into the teacher mode bandwagon and you are playing the violin by now. When I start with that business of judging others, I remind myself to STOP, take a deep breath and say to myself,”But for the grace of God , there go I.”

So enough said. Thank you for sharing, it does make one stop and marvel at a life miracle, “some folks change their destiny”

And Justly reaffirms. HOPE. Later. Vickie

Message/Picture from Doreen Bailey (Vance Bailey 46 deceased): Tempe, AZ

Florence, I have heard talk of Wesley Schneider and his backward bicycle riding skills too. It was some of the talk of my childhood days. Gary

 

 

George and Lela Cota in 1933

 

 

 

Jim and Ella’s wedding day with George

 

and Lela as attendants

 

 

 

Jim and Ella Metcalfe on their wedding day

 

Reply/Pictures from Dick Johnson (68): Dunseith, ND.

Gary and Friends,

I have several more pictures of George and Lela Cota and will post
another one. This picture is of their family at their 40th anniversary
in 1977. George and Lela are seated with their grandson Dean. Gary and
his wife Darla and son Maynard are standing behind them. They had their
25th anniversary at Rendahl church in 1962 and my dad had just gotten
his new 8 MM movie camera, so he filmed the entire event and I still
have the film. Dad filmed many events over several years and we have a
large basket full of his reel to reel films. There is no sound, just
color movies, but they are sure fun to watch. I would like to have them
all put on DVD someday so I could make copies for others too.

Vickie–you are right, George Cota’s mother, Mae, was a Keeler and
they lived where Emil Morin later lived. I will attach a picture of Mae
Cota (holding a small girl I don’t recognize) and Gary. This would have
been in the early 40s. I do remember Mae, but never saw her husband that
I can remember. I think he may have died before I was born or shortly
after. Thanks for the info and thanks Gary!

George and Lela Cota are seated with their grandson Dean. Gary and
his wife Darla and son Maynard are standing behind them.

 

 

 

Mae Cota (holding a small girl I don’t recognize) and Gary