The Sauk Centre Walmart grocery entrance’s new mural by Lili Lennox. (June 30, 2025)
Things keep changing. That’s hardly a new idea.
“Everything changes and nothing stands still” (“πάντα χωρεῖ καὶ οὐδὲν μένει”, quoted by Plato in “Cratylus” ) (Heraclitus, Wikiquote)
I’ll be talking about the new mural in my town’s Walmart, how this isn’t the America I grew up in, changes that have been for the better, and why the latest thing in looming dooms — looks both familiar, and not all that distressing.
Sauk Centre’s Walmart Still Here: So is Downtown Sauk Centre
Okay, it’s just a sign: but “Thank you, Sauk Centre” is a nice touch.
Again, change happens. Take the Walmart Supercenter here in Sauk Centre, for example. Construction started in the summer of 2006. They opened mid-April, 2007.
Some folks, when they learned that we’d be getting a massive new employer and customer magnet near the Interstate, seemed convinced that we were doomed.
Others didn’t think it would ‘destroy downtown’, and figured that more folks coming off the Interstate meant more folks stopping for gas, getting something to eat, and maybe even shopping for stuff that wasn’t at Walmart.
That’s how I saw it, too. Nearly two decades later, Sauk Centre’s downtown is still here. Not exactly the same, but it’s still here.
I was getting my hips replaced in 2006, but took a few photos as Sauk Centre’s new business took shape.
Wal-Mart’s Grand Opening in Sauk Centre. April 18, 2007.
“The first impression I had, walking inside, was that the place was big. Really big. Sauk Centre being the size it is, I knew quite a few of Wal-Mart’s night shift, who were lined up to greet people coming in for the Grand Opening this morning.
First impression: this place is big! April 18, 2007.
“About 7:30 this morning, the Sauk Centre High School Choir sang Doo-Bee-Doo-Bee-Doo, or something of that sort, the store manager and Sauk Centre’s mayor said a few words, and finally, right around 8:00, a humungous scissors cut the ceremonial ribbon….”
The next big change in the Sauk Centre Walmart came this year.
They spent a few months shuffling merchandise around: adding a version of hide-and-seek to my weekly errands there.
It wasn’t just playing musical chairs with shelving.
They put glass-front doors on the eggs and dairy section’s refrigerated shelving, which adds a few steps to reaching stuff, but probably takes less energy.
The pharmacy’s computers were upgraded, involving the usual steep learning curve and/or glitchy new system. I’ve very likely not noticed other changes.
Then, on May 30, I missed the big ‘remodeling is done’ ceremony:
“Walmart remodel unveiled” Sauk Centre Herald (June 5, 2025) “The Walmart Supercenter remodel project was officially unveiled May 30 as the store welcomed guests to a ribbon cutting ceremony at 8 a.m. in Sauk Centre….”
I did, however, noticed that stuff I picked up was staying put. Which was a nice change of pace.
Eventually, I used the grocery entrance and noticed their new artwork.
I’d expected a fresh coat of paint as part of the remodeling, but not anything like that mural.
I meant to bring my camera along the next week, but forgot. And forgot, again, the week after that.
Eventually I didn’t forget, spending an interesting few minutes getting the whole mural into one picture.
I’ve lived in Sauk Centre since the 1980s, so I immediately recognized two downtown locations: the bakery and Mainstreet Theatre. Although I’ve never seen Sauk Centre’s movie theater festooned with lights like that.
Sauk Centre’s bandshell is larger than the mural shows it, and down by the lake: not in Main Street, as the mural’s perspective implies. But that’s just nitpicking.
The mural-in-a-mural, that little bit of a viking ship’s sail inside the band shell, isn’t just a flight of fancy on the artist’s part. Sauk Centre’s Roger Reinardy and other folks created “a 3D musical interpretation” there in 2017.
The band shell mural was new to me: I really don’t get out much these days.
Getting back to the new Walmart mural: a Minnesota artist created it, Lili Lennox. While discovering that, I saw that Sauk Centre businesses have become more ‘mural conscious’:
The “Local Walmart stuns…” article, by the way, is on a site that makes you sign in before reading. I didn’t. I caught the artist’s name in a Google search result summary for hometownsource.com, which might be a reasonable ‘for more information’ resource.
America Has Changed: Good News, Actually
More than six decades later: new buildings, new snowfall, old memories. (February 2022)
“There’s nothing quite so lovely as a brightly burning book”. The Hon:Mole MacCarony in Pogo. (March 30, 1953)
This isn’t the America I grew up in.
The political situation — actually, that hasn’t changed much. We’ve got new folks in charge, with new slogans and different quirks and preferences; but there’s the same quaint notion that ‘freedom of speech’ only applies to remarks supporting the ‘proper’ viewpoint. And that’s another topic.
Society as a whole — apart from the usual doomsayers, prognosticators, and passionate proponents of one Great Cause or another — that’s changed a lot.
For instance, when I was in Walmart this week I noticed a few families shopping. Families: mother, father, kids.
Part of that may be the increased number of Hispanic, or whatever the currently-proper term is, folks living around here. But I’ve seen families with my congenital melanin deficiency, too. That is very much not the way it used to be.
I mean, folks got married and had kids back when I was growing up. Humans, and human nature, hasn’t changed.
But in public? You’d see a mother and kids in the grocery or downtown. On Sunday, you’d see a mother and kids — and a father — at church. But the father wouldn’t be interacting with the kids, any more than absolutely necessary. And he’d never be caught actually holding a baby.
The current habit many fathers have, acting as if they’re part of the family — in public — that’s a huge change from the America of my youth.
Good Ideas and Perspective
Public information poster. (ca.1938)
I didn’t notice anyone with an obvious physical or mental disability in Walmart this week. But the ‘disabled parking’ spots were full when I arrived, so I had to wait for one to open up.
I didn’t actually have to wait. But it’s a whole lot easier on me if I park in one of those close-to-the-entrance spots.
Disabled parking got started in the mid-1970s, along with now-commonplace features like curb cuts: those little ramps at intersections that let folks on wheels cross the street.
I think such things are good ideas. Partly because I think letting folks with imperfect bodies cross streets and get into stores nearly as well as their neighbors makes sense. And partly because I’m one of those folks.
I also think good ideas can be rushed straight off the edge of sanity. A decade or so back now, I argued against a nifty idea that might have made accessible ramps mandatory for all buildings. All buildings. Think about it.
Let’s put this in perspective.
Today, you might see someone in a wheelchair, or otherwise not physically fit, in public.
Six decades back, things were different. The town I grew up in had, as far as anyone might casually notice, one disabled person: a middle-aged man with a rather noticeable case of kyphosis — a hunchback, in other words.
Fargo-Moorhead hadn’t grown to its current population then, but the odds were that a great many other of the 80,000 or so folks living there weren’t quite standard-issue, one way or another.
Since I’m arguably Lebensunwertes Leben, life unworthy of life,1 I see my culture’s increasing tolerance for folks who can’t live what used to be called a “quality lifestyle” as a good thing. For the most part.
Crises du Jour, Doing Our Job
“Crossword Murder” headline in the Cincinnati Post. (December 18, 1925)
A hundred years ago, chaos stalked the streets as madness ran rampant.
Experts and journalists warned us that crosswords were hurting our eyes, rotting our memories, imperiling families, destroying marriages, and making people commit murder. And yet, somehow, we survived.
Time passed, the crises du jour changed, and now I’m seeing today’s experts and journalists telling us that we’re doomed for new-and-improved reasons.
I think we’ve got real problems. We always have.
Some problems, at least their technical aspects, are new. Most — my opinion — are pretty much the same ones we’ve always had. Just repackaged, with new labels and a fresh coat of paint.
And, arguably, some of the same old problems become less common, while others elbow their way to the front of the line.
Part of our job was, and still is, noticing and correcting today’s societal ills while noticing and preserving what’s going right. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1928-1942, 2239; for starters)
I had planned on talking about some of today’s more front-of-the-line issues. But then a reliable old program I use stopped being reliable, and I saw how long this week’s post had become. So that will wait.
Besides, I’ve talked about that sort of thing before:
Disabled parking permit (“This article may contain an excessive amount of intricate detail that may only interest a particular audience….”)
Eugenics (“…a set of largely discredited beliefs and practices that aim to improve the genetic quality of a human population….”)[I strongly suspect it’s more ‘rebranded’ than ‘discredited’]
Eugenics in the United States (“This article’s lead section may be too short to adequately summarize the key points….”)
Flash floods in central Texas: still searching for victims, clearing debris. Later: finding answers.
Centracare Clinic, Sauk Centre.
This week’s post is a follow-up on two posts: last week’s, when I talked about flash floods in central Texas; and another where I talked about a biopsy and storms.
Briefly, the sore on my leg looked awful, but was “benign”.
The situation in central Texas is still very bad news: the number of known dead is upwards of 100 now. Someone in emergency services tried getting a warning out. But then — it looks like something went badly wrong.
A Sunday afternoon’s weather in June. (“What a Weekend!” (June 22, 2025)
I haven’t learned anything more about damage in Sauk Centre from June’s storm. Folk living in and near “Eagle’s Healing Nest” and elsewhere on the north side apparently got the debris cleared okay.
Up on the Red River Valley1 homestead where our number-two daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter, and number-one daughter live, getting the mill running again wasn’t a huge issue. Getting the roof repaired/replaced, on the other hand, will be a job.
And I learned that they’ll need to repair/replace the door, too. It’s one of those oversize industrial garage door things. That, and sealing what number-two daughter called “exit holes”, where wind-blown stuff went through the walls — that job is more, I gather, a matter of applying patches.
But the main thing is that NOBODY GOT HURT, and all the critters are okay. They’ve got a kennel on the property, nearer the house: the dogs spent time in the house while the storm was in progress.
What’s remarkable is that there wasn’t more damage. That’s very likely due to the roof that our son-in-law is building being in the right place, at the right angle.
Folks in the Red River Valley area experienced a derecho. Depending on who’s talking, it was category 2 or 3. In other words, the homestead had 115+ mile an hour winds. Small wonder part of the mill roof peeled back.
But another roof, the one son-in-law has been building for a chapel, was in the right place at the right angle. VERY likely, it deflected winds and debris, or “the whole roof might have gone”, as number-two daughter put it.
Biopsy and Good News
A few days before the storms, June 19, 2025, I got a treat of sorts: a biopsy. Which is a fancy way of saying a doctor took a pinhead-size sample of skin from one of my legs.
Calling that a “treat” probably sounds weird. But I don’t remember having a sample taken that way before, and I enjoyed seeing how that particular bit of medical technology works.
How It Was Done, Reading the Results
The open sore has been a problem since — April, I think. It had been getting bigger, and was turning an unpleasant color. That, I’ll admit, was concerning.
This biopsy process involved Novocaine to desensitize the skin. Then the doctor took something that looked like a very skinny ballpoint pen with a stubby metal cylinder sticking out one end. The cylinder was about as big around as the ink holder in low-end ballpoints.
He rolled/rotated the ‘pen’, pushing the business end into the middle of the patch that didn’t look right. That part didn’t hurt a bit, thanks to the Novocaine, I suppose.
Dabbing silver nitrate where he’d taken a tiny divot of skin: that, I felt. Turns out it’s an effective cauterizing agent.
About a week later, I read the biopsy results. The regional healthcare outfit in these parts has an online service that lets me see such things, do some appointment paperwork ahead of time, and — I appreciate being able to access the information.
And I REALLY liked that the first word was “benign”:
“Benign skin with underlying dermal vascular proliferation, extensive chronic inflammation, patchy acute inflammation and red blood cell extravasation….” (Lab report from my biopsy of June 19, 2025) [I LIKE having access to information like this: and that I could see it before the doctor did]
“Benign” was good to see. So was noticing, over the last couple weeks, that the sore has been (1) getting smaller and (2) turning a less-concerning color.
This week’s trip to the local clinic confirmed the impression I had, that the sore is healing. I’ll have another scar from this, but the sore IS healing.
Wrapping this bit up —
You don’t run into the word “extravasation” every day. I don’t, at any rate. It’s medical-speak for leakage into surrounding tissue. I’ve put links to a more formal definition, and some decent overviews of what biopsies are and how they’re done, at the end of this post.2
Central Texas Flash Floods: Waiting for a Supervisor’s Approval?
Guadalupe River, Texas, looking east toward Cypress Creek. (Google Maps 2023)
Although it’s not good news, an item I read on Friday helped me feel a bit better about some of the folks living in central Texas.
Up here in central Minnesota, we can expect wild weather year-round.
During the summer, when we get word that something like tornadoes are possible, spotters — locals who sign up for the task — deploy around towns, in the general direction that a storm is coming from. If one of them sees/hears something bad at their location, they call in. It doesn’t stop the twisters, but it lets the rest of us know it’s time to head into shelters.
Sounds like folks in central Texas have a similar setup.
Just one problem.
A firefighter noticed and reported a submerged road sign, maybe early enough to give some folks time to run. But somewhere between that firefighter and the folks who died, vital information got stuck in traffic.
I don’t feel up to summarizing, so here are two excerpts from a BBC News piece:
“A Texas firefighter asked if emergency flood alerts could be sent to Kerr County residents about an hour before the first warnings were received, audio reveals.
“In the recording, obtained by US outlets, the firefighter asks at 04:22 on 4 July if a CodeRED alert can be issued. The dispatcher says a supervisor needs to approve the request.
“Some residents received the alert an hour later – for others it took up to six hours, according to reports. Asked about the delays, Kerr County Sheriff Larry Leitha said officials were putting together a timeline….” [emphasis mine]
Now, I can see why folks setting up an emergency response protocol might want someone with a little extra training and experience give the ‘okay’ before declaring an emergency.
But around here, if a spotter reports a twister, we’re told: usually BEFORE it gets to us.
Timing is very important in situations like this.
Again, hats off to the firefighter who reported an underwater sign.
“…In the recording of the firefighter’s dispatch call, the emergency responder can be heard saying: ‘The Guadalupe Schumacher sign is underwater on State Highway 39.
“‘Is there any way we can send a CodeRED out to our Hunt residents, asking them to find higher ground or stay home?’
“‘Stand by, we have to get that approved with our supervisor,’ the dispatcher replied….
“The Texas Newsroom, which first reported on the audio, said some residents received a CodeRED alert around an hour after that.
“The earliest alert ABC News’ affiliate could confirm was 05:34. Kerrville’s mayor did not receive an alert for 90 minutes, he told the Texas Tribune.
“Some messages did not arrive until after 10:00, multiple news outlets reported.
“Asked on Wednesday about possible delays to emergency communications, Sheriff Leitha said he was first notified around the ‘four to five area’ — and that ‘we’re in the process of trying to put a timeline’.
“‘That’s going to take a little bit of time,’ he told reporters at a news conference. ‘That is not my priority at this time.’…
“…The National Weather Service sent several about rain and possible flooding starting on Thursday afternoon, and the Texas Division of Emergency Management (TDEM) activated state resources because of flooding concerns….” (“Texans did not immediately receive flood alerts after request, audio reveals” Brandon Drenon, BBC News, Washington DC; Mallory Moench, BBC News, London (July 10, 2025)) [emphasis mine]
My guess is that, ideally, there shouldn’t be a one-to-six-hour delay while paperwork for a “CodeRED alert” gets processed.
Sheriff Leitha’s “That is not my priority at this time” — makes sense. To me, at least. Putting search and other immediate concerns ahead of sorting out what went so spectacularly wrong sounds like reasonable priorities.
So What?
(The Great Storm of 1703: bad news for England, and an English sermon topic for generations.)
From the sounds of it, folks in central Texas could, starting Thursday afternoon, have seen Weather Service warnings that flash floods were likely that night.
A definitive ‘head for the hills’ alert came almost comically late.
Something went wrong. Many things, very likely. What those things were, I don’t know.
The political angle — what I called the usual baying of the hounds last week — is still nattering its way through my news feed. I hope it doesn’t keep folks who care about their neighbors from finding out what went wrong, and fixing the problem.
My view is that more than a hundred people died, very likely in part because warnings that might have saved a few lives took too much time to clear bureaucratic hurdles. That’s close to a best-case scenario, I fear.
I’ve been reining myself in, not venting about some of my fears: partly because I see no point in the exercise, partly because it’d take me too close to breaking a very important rule.
Loving Neighbors, Making Sense
Jesus and the woman taken in adultery, ink drawing by Rembrant.
I’m a Catholic.
As such, I should love God and my neighbors — and see everybody as my neighbor. No exceptions. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31, 10:25–37; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1706, 1776, 1789, 1825, 1849-1851, 1955)
Loving my neighbors, all of them, and unleashing how I feel about how some of them may have acted — or, rather, not acted — those aren’t compatible options. Not this week.
On the other hand, suggesting that finding out what went wrong is a good idea does come under the heading of ‘loving my neighbors’. Make that finding out, then taking steps to reduce the odds that it’ll happen again.
Finally, about that biopsy and the state of my health —
Being healthy is okay. Being not-healthy is okay. Trying to get or stay healthy is a good idea, within reason. What each of us does matters.
If that sounds familiar, it should.
I’ve talked about health, disasters, and making sense, before:
Guadalupe River, Texas, looking east toward Cypress Creek. (Google Maps 2023)
Folks living in central Texas are not having a good time. A heavy storm’s rain overloaded waterways before sunrise Friday morning.
Some folks enjoying an Independence Day weekend in that region’s picture-postcard landscapes survived. Others didn’t.
Folks who have been helping sort out the mess have been finding some survivors, and many non-survivors. I’ve started seeing specifics about that: names, circumstances, facts that won’t come close to fully describing the people we lost.
July 2025 Central Texas floods Wikipedia (“This article documents a current event. Information may change rapidly and initial news reports may be unreliable. The latest updates to this article may not reflect the most current information….”)
The seemingly-inevitable political sound and fury working off the tragedies started yesterday (Sunday, July 6, 2025) — the usual baying of the hounds. I won’t be talking about that.
I will talk — briefly — about what I noticed in news coverage, how I see the situation, and the slight change it’s made in my daily routines.
Late-Breaking News: Details, Discrepancies, and Making Sense
Something that disturbed me early on, apart from what obviously was an appalling loss of life, were inconsistencies in the news.
For example, an article said that 27 pre-teen girls had been at a summer camp, and that the camp was not in session at the time.
I ran into that Saturday morning, but didn’t start posting about ‘Sinister Discrepancies at Summer Camp: WHAT ARE THEY HIDING???’ I’d probably get a whole lot more attention if I did, and that’s another topic.
Turns out that there are — or were — at least two camps involved.
They weren’t much more than a mile apart. One, Heart O’ the Hills, was on the Guadalupe River. Another, Camp Mystic, was sort of on the Guadalupe, but mostly on Cypress Creek. If I’m getting the names wrong, sorry about that: it’s what I found on Google Maps.
The point is that both camps were hit, hard. One was in session, the other not. Names of the camps and other details started getting resolved over the weekend. I’ve put a couple excerpts and links at the end of this post.1
So, how come I didn’t see accurate coverage Saturday morning?
Priorities, Questions, and a Pre-Dawn Disaster
Part of the problem, I very strongly suspect, involves what’s important and what’s not.
A few hours after a major regional disaster most, if not all, of the folks who have any solid information are in the field. They’re trying to find people who are still alive, or coordinating efforts of those who are actively searching.
Making time to slowly and carefully explain to hyperventilating reporters which camps have how many known missing and dead? That might not be a high priority.
What’s obvious, so far, is that searchers have found almost a hundred dead bodies; and that the area’s getting more heavy rain and flash floods.
What may never be obvious is how so many folks apparently didn’t realize a flash flood was happening until they were in the water.
My guess, and it’s no more than that, is that flash floods don’t happen often enough in any one place to encourage staying up all night, waiting for a warning. Or evacuating low-lying spots each time there’s a heavy rain.
Notices that flash floods were in progress getting posted, starting around four in the morning — that probably accounts for much of what happened.
Disaster, Deaths, Doing What I Can
It hasn’t been all bad news.
Searchers have been finding folks who were still alive.
And I’ve been running across accounts of folks who’d been caught in the flood and risked their own lives to help others.
“…Julian Ryan, 27, died after trying to help his family escape their trailer home in Ingram, according to his sister, Connie Salas….
I’m not at all happy about what happened: but it’s nice, learning that folks do what’s right in difficult situations.
Now, looking at the ‘so what’ angle.
What happened in central Texas doesn’t affect me directly.
I didn’t know anyone who was in that area, and hadn’t been aware of either of the summer camps that were washed away. I gather that Camp Mystic has been owned and operated by the same family for generations, and that’s almost another topic.
Slight Change in Routine, Prayers
On the other hand, now I do know a little about the folks involved. Not much, but enough to let me include them in my daily prayer routine.
Part of that inclusion would have happened anyway, even if I’d never heard of the Independence Day floods. This prayer for the dead has been part of my routine for some time:
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
But now that I know about what’s happening near the Guadalupe River, I’ve been asking God to comfort and console the survivors. And help everyone involved cope with what they’re experiencing.
I know: that’s no practical help at all.
But I’m just some old guy living in central Minnesota. There’s precious little I can do to change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel in my bare hands, and — well, you get the picture.
I did find some maybe-useful prayer resources. Those, I can share:
I’ve maybe raised questions without answering them. I wrote most of this Monday afternoon — if you’ve got questions, put them in a comment. If I’ve got an answer, or at any rate a response; I’ll respond.
Anyway, I’ve talked about disasters and making sense before:
1 Sunday, July 6, 2025; facts starting to get sorted out:
“…The floodwaters arrived with little warning, ripping through the picturesque riverfront area that is home to nearly 20 youth camps.
“Though Camp Mystic suffered the greatest losses, officials say the scale of the disaster is far-reaching.
“Nearby, the all-girls camp Heart O’ the Hills was also deluged.
“Its co-owner and director, Jane Ragsdale, was among the dead. Fortunately, the camp was out of session at the time….” (“A girls’ summer camp swept away by a ‘horrific’ deluge” ; Gary O’Donoghue, Chief North America correspondent; Ana Faguy, BBC News (Saturday afternoon, July 6, 2025)) [emphasis mine]
From Wikipedia, Saturday, July 6, 2025, including links to the article’s sources:
“…At 1:18 pm CDT on July 3, 2025, the National Weather Service (NWS) office in San Antonio, Texas issued a flood watch for Kerr County and other areas that would later be impacted by severe flooding. The watch warned of 1-3 inches of rain, with isolated areas seeing closer to 5-7 inches. The watch noted that there would be ’rounds of scattered to widespread showers and storms with heavy rain rates possible.’[6]
“Early on July 4, the Weather Prediction Center (WPC) branch of the NWS issued a mesoscale precipitation discussion citing that ‘areas of flash flooding will be likely across central TX overnight with very heavy rainfall expected. Hourly rainfall in excess of 2 to 3 inches seems reasonable given the environment and localized 6-hr totals over 6 inches will be possible’, and detailing that the potential flooding may have ‘significant impacts’.[7]Another discussion issued at 6:27 am used stronger wording, warning that ‘Considerable to catastrophic flash flood impacts can continue to be expected.’[8]
“Numerous flash flood warnings were issued throughout the event. Several of these warnings contained dire flash flood emergency wording. The first flash flood emergency was issued for Hunt and Ingram in Kerr County at 4:03 am on July 4, warning residents to ‘SEEK HIGHER GROUND NOW!’ and that rainfall rates of 2-4 inches/hour would continue to impact the area which had already seen 4-10 inches of rain.[9]By 4:05, the Guadalupe River at Hunt had risen to 21.99 feet, rising over ten feet in an hour and reaching major flood stage. The river continued to surge, reaching 37.52 feet and still rising at 5:10 am when the gauge at Hunt stopped updating. This level marked the second highest ever recorded at Hunt, surpassing flash flooding that occurred in 1987.[10][11]Multiple summer camps near Hunt, notably Camp Mystic, experienced catastrophic flooding. At Camp Mystic, a Christian summer camp for girls, at least five campers aged 8-9 died, alongside a dozen that remain missing. [evening of July 6, 2025] The camp’s director and co-owner, Dick Eastland, also died, reportedly while trying to save campers from floodwaters.[12][13] Another nearby girl’s camp, Heart O’ the Hills, was not in session, however the camp’s director Jane Ragsdale died during the flooding.[14]…” (July 2025 Central Texas floods > Preparations and Impact, Wikipedia (taken 5:50 p.m. (Minnesota, CDT (10:55 PM UTC/GMT) July 6, 2025) [emphasis mine]
My folks had a 1957 Pontiac Chieftain four-door sedan, not unlike this one.
Many towns here in central Minnesota host fireworks displays on Independence Day, but not Sauk Centre.
Fireworks and Family
Sauk Centre’s Sinclair Lewis Days parade. (July 2013)
It’s not that the town disapproves of the Fourth of July, or fireworks, or loud noises: our big-deal midsummer celebration is Sinclair Lewis Days, later this month. And that’s another topic.
Going to fireworks displays wasn’t part of this household’s way of life, back when our kids were growing up.
Again: it’s not that we disapprove of fireworks. In this case, it just didn’t happen. More accurately, as our oldest daughter reminded me, my wife “had a rather strict bedtime for us even in the summer. And actually going would cost money”.
On the other hand, back in the day, my folks took me to July Fourth celebrations. We lived in Moorhead, Minnesota: Independence Day fireworks displays weren’t more than a few blocks from where we lived.
The times I remember in any detail, we walked: either to Concordia Field — this was before they put a football stadium, classroom buildings, residence halls, an organic garden, a baseball field — basically, while it was still one big open space.
Right. For a while, Moorhead’s Independence Day fireworks were on Concordia Field. Later, the displays were on Moorhead State’s — it’s MSUM now — football field.
I’ve got a few maybe-worth-retelling memories of those outings, including the time Moorhead’s Fourth of July fireworks should have been rained out.
Tucked Under the Rear Window
Patriotic pop can. (2008)
Anyway, today I’ll focus, briefly — very briefly — on one of the earliest times my folks took me to see fireworks.
I’m pretty sure it was while our 1957 Pontiac Chieftain was new.
I remember almost nothing of that night’s fireworks. But I do remember how my folks took me to see them.
We went around the time I would have been going to bed.
The evening must have been cool, since they wrapped me up and packed me onto the shelf under the rear window of the family car. My oldest daughter, reading this, said “I hope it was parked”.
I don’t remember, one way or the other. This was the mid-1950s. Most Americans weren’t nearly as hypercautious as we are now, and risk perceptions were — different.
I remember watching flashes in the sky, noticing how warm the air around my nose was whenever I breathed out, and how little room I had to move.
And I remember how much I enjoyed the experience.
I’d probably grown to big to fit there by next year’s Independence Day, since that’s the only time I remember being under the rear window.
I probably enjoyed watching fireworks more on those later Fourth of July celebrations: but that one, when I was tucked under the rear window, is still among my favorites.
“The End of Civilization as We Know It”: As Usual
“It may be the end of civilization as we know it.” 😉 Wisdom in the comics.
This is where I could either ramble on about what a great country America is: or how it’s doomed, DOOMED, because we’ve got problems. I could, but I won’t.
Yes, we have problems. That’s nothing new.
One reason I think America is a great country is not that we’re practically perfect in every way, but that we’ve got a track record of acknowledging problems and dealing with them. It’s often — very often — been grudging acknowledgement, and that’s yet another topic.
Love of Country, Human Nature, and Working for Tomorrow’s Good
“A False Alarm on the Fourth” Udo Keppler, Puck. (1902) “Uncle Sam — It’s all right! There’s no fighting! The noise you hear is just my family celebrating!”
As for how I feel about my country: I like being an American.
It’s a personal preference: not particularly connected to something we’re getting right at the moment, or whatever mess we’re in.
I also love my country: within reason. It’s an obligation that comes with being a Catholic. But it’s not my top priority. Letting love of country slop over into worship of country is a bad idea. A very bad idea. (Catechism, 2112-2114, 2199, 2239)
“… ‘Our true native land is heaven, where the kingdom of God is in full bloom,” the supreme chaplain (Archbishop Lori) affirmed. Nonetheless, he added, ‘We must love our country as it is, not as we may wish it to be … This doesn’t mean we should be complacent or settle for the status quo. It only means we can’t defer love of country until everything is shipshape’….” (“125 Years of Patriotic Service” , Columbia staff, Columbia Magazine (April 2025) [emphasis mine])
Let’s see. What else? Ah. Right: something a former president said about human nature, and what strikes me as a good idea. I’ve shared this quote before:
“…Human nature will not change. In any future great national trial, compared with the men of this, we will have as weak and as strong, as silly and as wise, as bad and as good. Let us, therefore, study the incidents of this as philosophy to learn wisdom from, and none of them as wrongs to be revenged….” (“On Democratic Government” ; Response to a Serenade, November 10, 1864; Abraham Lincoln (November 10, 1864) via Project Gutenberg) [emphasis mine]
I think there’s wisdom in remembering that the mix of enthusiasts, crackpots, just plain folks, and the occasional person with a good idea — is pretty much what we’ve had from day one.
And that change happens. It’s always “the end of civilization as we know it”. I see that as a good thing, since it means we can work toward correcting today’s problems: and help build a better world for coming generations.
Something new each Saturday.
Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
I live in Minnesota, in America's Central Time Zone. This blog is on UTC/Greenwich time.
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Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
