Behind the Lines: by David Heiller

David Heiller I was heading over to St. John ’s Lutheran School last Thursday to take a photo of the “student of the week” for the Bank of the West ad. I stopped at the corner of West Caledonia and North Kingston. An RV was coming from the right, but I had plenty of time to turn left in front eat him. Or so I thought. He didn’t think so. I’m assuming it was a guy because, well, it was a kind of guy thing that happened next. He drove his mammoth vehicle up close to my bumper and honked his horn. It wasn’t just single honk, or even a double one. It was one continuous honk, and it lasted for three blocks, all the way until I turned right onto East Taft Street. I glanced out my window to see who was driving. Maybe it was Darth Vader. I thought I would catch a wave of the good old flag, but he was already past me and hurtling angrily onward. He had to be angry. Either that or his horn was stuck, or he was trying to impersonate a Towboat. I’m sure this gentleman has a d...

David Heiller The first anniversary of the construction of the new Kettle River Bridge west of Sturgeon Lake went largely unnoticed on June 15. I guess we can understand why no one lit fireworks. But the Sturgeon Lake business district, if there still is one, should have marked the event. Larry Dagel at Sturgeon Lake Feed Mill could have given away salt blocks to his farmers on the west side of the river. The bank could have had a drawing for savings bonds. Dan Zimmer could have awarded free gas. That might have pulled a few people into town. But I doubt it. The only thing that will get people west of the Kettle River into Sturgeon Lake again is the new bridge. Believe it or not, that bridge is supposed to open at the end of this week. That’s right, this week, 1986. Askov people may shudder at the mere mention of a closed bridge. The Kettle River Bridge on Highway 23 west of Askov was closed for a year in 1981-82. Not surprisingly, it was built by the same contractor. Peopl...

David Heiller I became a firm believer in seat belt use in 1980. My sister-in-law was on her way home to Brooklyn Center for Easter break that year. She was sitting in the front seat between two other people. The weather was terrible that day thanks to a spring snowstorm. As they traveled along Highway 316 south of Hastings, an oncoming vehicle lost control and hit them head on. My sister-in-law went through the wind shield. She did not die, but she suffered a closed head injury. She was in a coma for about a month, then spent years of physical therapy and cognitive rehabilitation. She has worked hard to make a good life for herself, but her life was changed forever that day. She didn’t have a seat belt on. Very likely she would have been spared serious injury had she been wearing one. There are a lot of stories out there like that. When we read them, we don’t really absorb them and internalize them. But since that, I have been a consistent seat belt wearer, 1954 Che...

David Heiller F rost coated the grass on Monday morning when I stepped out of the house at 6 a.m. The thermometer said 28 degrees. But spring was definitely in the air. Why else would I have asked Cindy if she wanted to drink a cup of tea on the bench outside. Cindy glanced at the thermometer. “It’s below freezing,” she said, and I knew enough not to push the point. But a little frost couldn’t keep the secret of spring for long. You could feel the promise that something good was going to happen. The garden would grow. Elian [Gonzalez] would get to go home. The Twins would win the pennant. I must have been delirious. You feel like anything can happen on a day like Monday. I grabbed the clothes from the washing machine and headed for the line. Anytime you look forward to hanging up clothes, you know something is right. I didn’t know what it was until I silently pinned up jeans and towels and socks. That’s when I noticed the birds. The air was filled with a subtl...

David Heiller Sometimes pays to procrastinate. Andrew Larson pointed that out to me or Monday morning. Andrew is our graphic design worker. I had told him on Friday that my story about the lack of snow hadn’t quite been written yet. “I’m procrastinating,” I told him, Andrew seemed to admire my honesty, and admitted that he was pretty good at doing that to He had a bit of pride in his voice. Yes, it does lurk in the male psyche, So I understood him, I think. “You were right about the story,” Andrew said after greeting me M o nday morning. I gave him my usual dull look, and responded with “Huh?” “The snow!” he said. “Oh right, right,” I replied with a slow smile. This was David's last column. I chuckle to myself, I don't think this is one  he would have wanted to go out on...  This is one of my last pictures of David,  taken on a snow-less Christmas Eve  hike in Beaver Creek State Park. Later that winter hard snows came while I was alone and cau...