A little taste of road rage ~ October 5, 2005

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 different perspective on what happened. He’s probably still steaming about the idiot in the little red car that pulled in front of him on his very busy Thursday afternoon.

I don’t think I did any bad driving, but maybe I did. It’s sometimes a relative issue. It still doesn’t explain his anger. A simple honk would have sufficed to tell me his opinion of my driving. That would have translated into “You jerk.” His continuous blast would not have translated into English that could be printed on this page.

I’m puzzled by road rage. I think that’s what this was. And it brought out an interesting reaction from me. When I realized that he was blaring his horn non-stop at me, I slowed down! I got angry. I thought, “I didn’t do anything wrong, you idiot. But I’ll show you now. We’ll just go nice and slow.” I didn’t even pull over when the road widened in front of St. John’s Church.

Anger begot anger.

Things could have gotten worse, A few what-ifs pop into my mind. In these days when your average Joe might be packing a .38, you never know. Luckily I had to turn when I did.

You may have a road rage story of your own. I recall watching a truck driver and car driver going at it on Highway 23 north of Askov, Minnesota, about 10 years ago. I was driving behind them, and I could see the truck driver waving his fist and trying to pass. The car driver, who I knew to be a hothead, wouldn’t let him; he would speed up and slow down, that kind of thing.

The car driver finally turned off the highway, drove into town, and got out of his car to walk to the bank. I stopped across the street at a gas station. The trucker roared into town, stopped in the middle of the street, hopped out, ran over to the man, punched him in the face, then got back in his truck and drove off. It was a very strange and scary thing to witness. I don’t know who started the altercation, but it should not have come to that.

So I’ll offer this in closing: control your temper, drivers. I don’t think my advice will do any good.

Unabridged opinions on the Kettle River Bridge ~ June 26, 1986

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. People either had to detour through Sandstone, or on the gravel roads to the north. Many a muffler, including mine, was lost on that lunar stretch of road. People suffered, and businesses suffered.

The old bridge...
(If anyone has a decent picture of the
 bridge, send it to me so I can replace this one.)

The new bridge west of Sturgeon Lake isn’t the grand affair of the Highway 23 one; but it’s close. The Kettle River west of Sturgeon Lake on County Road 46 is only about 200 feet across. The old bridge was narrow. Two Model Ts could pass on it going slow. The deck had a few holes in it. The water was only 10 feet below the bridge, which had no piers, just steel beams and a high truss. The approach to the bridge ran steeply from both east and west. More than one person lost his life coming down the hill too fast. The old bridge was an Edsel. The new bridge is a Cadillac, which makes sense since it was paid for by state and federal money. The approaches have been tapered, the bridge deck raised so that the old bridge could have fit underneath the new one. Pre-stressed concrete beams rest on cement piers that go to bedrock. The deck is all rebar and cement. The bridge will outlast most of the people who drive over it and gawk this weekend, including me.

Never mind the fact that it was supposed to have been completed last fall. Federal paperwork delayed the project in the spring. Heavy rains in the fall hampered construction of the piers. Solid bedrock slowed the earth moving efforts of the approaches in the summer. Locals will argue whether the bridge could have been completed last fall, whether it was an act of God as the contract allows for, or an act of contractor, which God allows for. Never mind that.

Think instead of the stories of heroism. Like Dan Zimmer, who lives only four and a half miles west of Sturgeon Lake, but had to drive 12 miles every day to his gas station on the detour road, through Denham. Dan estimates he put an extra 6,000 miles on his car as a result of the bridge construction, not to mention the extra miles for fuel deliveries west of the river. Dan is an optimist though. He admits he lost a lot of business, but he also supplied fuel to the contractors, which helped, he says. He has the patience of Job, but not the vocabulary when he talks about the bridge.

Even Dan’s patience ran a little thin last Saturday. He had been sneaking across the bridge the last couple weeks, dodging steam rollers and dump trucks. But the bridge was blockaded Saturday morning, as Dan headed for a wedding. On the detour, his exhaust pipe fell off. Dan struggled in the mud to put it back into place, dreaming up some new vocabulary for the unfinished bridge. He fixed it well enough, then slammed the back of the station wagon door. The window exploded. Call it another act of God.

Arnold Larson is another hero. He has the first place west of the river. He is a beef farmer. Part of his farm is east of the river. To tend his cattle, he had to drive about 15 miles, when before he could do it in under three and a half. There were times during calving season this spring when he was making four trips a day to the farm across the river via the detour road. Maybe Arnold deserves the patience of Job award.

But everyone will be happy to see the new bridge open. Chester Chmielewski, the Pine County Commissioner who helped get funding for it, will be happy. People who work in Sturgeon Lake, or Moose Lake, or Willow River, or Askov, will be happy. Dan Zimmer and Arnold Larson will be happy. Automobiles will be happy. Maybe even the contractor will be happy, though the workers have probably grown quite attached to the project.

I’ll be happy too, or at least relieved. And like most everybody else who lives west of the river, I’ll believe the new bridge is open when I drive over it.

Lots of reasons to buckle up ~ May 17, 2006

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 windshield. 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 Chevy

That certainly wasn’t the case growing up. (I know I speak for a lot of people in my generation on that subject.) We had a 1954 Chevy, which fit all eight kids. My sister Kathy said we would put two stools in the back seat to accommodate everyone on the occasions that we all piled inside, like a trip to see my uncle in St. Paul. I don’t remember that—I was probably sitting on someone’s lap.

I can still remember the first car we had with seat belts, a 1964 Chevrolet. They were a novelty, and that was about it.

1964 Chevy

Slowly the word spread that seat belts saved lives. The smart people figured why not, and the dumb ones like me had to be shown first hand.

There’s another reason to wear your seat belt right now. Law enforcement officers in four local counties, including Houston, are issuing tickets to violators of the seat belt law. It’s part of a cam­paign called “Bluff Country Buckle-Up.” From now to June 4, police deputies and state troopers will be issuing tickets and not warnings if they catch you without your seat belt on.

It’s happening. If you don’t believe me, check out the sheriff and police logs. I do that as part of my job and I saw numerous citations last week. That’s something I rarely see.

A press packet from the program’s coordinator, Brenda Leigh Pohlman, has some grim facts to motivate us. “In 2004, more than half of 461 vehicle occupant fatalities in Minnesota were unbelted: Pohlman wrote. “From 2000-2004 in Winona County, 46 people died and 20 were unbelted victims. Those same years, Fillmore County had a total of 12 traffic fatalities, five of which were unbelted occupants, Out of Houston County’s 16 deaths during that five-year span, seven were unbelted.”

There were a lot more statistics, but if you are like me, you mind will numb up with about one more sentence.

The bottom line is this: Wear your seat belt. It will increase the likelihood of you surviving a bad car crash.

Editor’s note: In Minnesota, failure to wear your seat belt is now a Primary Offense, meaning that you can be ticketed for not wearing one. There are enforced seat belt laws in all states except for New Hampshire.

Hang up the clothes and enjoy the good life ~ April 27, 2000

David Heiller

Frost 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 subtle symphony of bird songs.

Tree swallows clicked and clacked while they glided over the garden.

The eternally optimistic chickadee called out, “Hey Petey. Hey Petey. Hey Petey. Hey Petey.”

We love the call of the white throated sparrow

The white throated sparrow reminded me of my upcoming fishing trip. “Deeeee deeeeee dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee.” I whistled a cheap imitation in response. I could almost smell the pine needles and fried walleyes.

I heard a wren scolding some chump. A crow cawed impatiently overhead. A blackbird said hello as it headed across the road. A blue jay honked a response.

A woodpecker called from over the field. Another tapped a code in the woods.

And then there was that weird, airy whistle, which I can’t describe very well. It’s like the sound a Frisbee might make, if you were asked to describe the sound of a Frisbee as it whistles through the air.

I had to use a lifeline for that one, so I called Tom Deering to see what the heck that bird was. I did my Frisbee imitation over the phone, and he did one back to me, even better.

“Jack snipe, we called them, but it’s also called a common snipe,” he told me, and that was his final answer.

These were just a few of the songs I heard while hanging up two loads of laundry. It was as if, all at once, the birds were telling me to wake up and get with the program. Time’s a wastin’!

Wood frog.

The frogs are saying that too. The wood frogs started last week, and now the peepers have joined the chorus. Their voices blend into such fine harmony that you can’t help but feel like singing yourself.

I wish I could bottle up days like Monday. They would come in handy during the extreme: of August and January.

There isn’t a better time of year for me than right now. And it will only get grander for the next month or two. The bugs aren’t bad, if you  can discount the woodticks. It’s not too hot, not too bright. Not too cold. The sky is a deeper blue, the grass a darker green. Everything is just right.

The only thing missing is enough time to enjoy it all. You want to be doing everything at `”once. Take the canoe and paddle down the Kettle River, maybe make a few casts.

Take a walk or a bike ride with your significant other. Climb rocks with your daughter, a game of Horse with your son. Toss a stick to the dog. Play!

Organize the garage. Wash the car. Rake they lawn. Clean out the garden. Work up the soil with the tiller and spade. Plant potatoes and onions. Getting your hands dirty!

Jobs don’t seem like jobs this time of year.

I’ve probably missed a few of your favorite activities. But I bet you are thinking of them and smiling right now.

Life doesn’t get much better than right now.It doesn’t matter if you are reading this in Minnesota or Mississippi. It doesn’t matter if you are: retired or over-worked. Young or old. Rich or poor. Happy or sad.

Spring is here, and we are all equals when; comes to enjoying the ride. I’d better go hang up some more laundry, before it’s too late.

Just wait (and wait and wait)—it will snow ~ January 17, 2007

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 Monday 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 caused a lot of
 damage that I was not prepared for.

See, for the past month I’ve been meaning to write about our wimpy winter: First it was the warm weather angle. How is the above-freezing weather affecting farmers? I made mental notes at the Redwood Cafe one day as Kenneth Meyer and Mike Carpenter explained the hazards of freezing and thawing on alfalfa fields.

How are loggers faring with the muddy ground? How about trappers, ice fishermen? There’s no safe ice!

Jane Palen was going to interview business people. NO snow can mean no business for places that rely on snow and snowmobilers. We were going to divide and conquer and write an award winning story!

I even started taking pictures; 1 took one of Meyer’s snow removal equipment sitting on his green lawn, I eyed the golf cart that sat in the back of Paul Weichert’s pickup. Golfing in January? There’s a story.

I talked to Fred Kruckow as he tinkered with a snowmobile that he was selling for his son. I took notes about the pros and cons of the mild weather on Kruckow’s gravel and snow plowing business. He told me that it’s easier starting equipment and getting things done. But then again there isn’t any snow removal, so that hurts their income: Seems like there are always pluses and minuses, no matter what the weather,

All that ended Sunday night when the snow started falling. Then Andrew put an official end to the story Monday morning as he con­gratulated me on my God-given skill of putting something off.

We only received about six inches of snow But it’s a start, Now I say, like our great president, “Bring it on!” I like snow. I like how it looks and feels. I like how it lets me brag to Cousin Barb out there in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We are Minnesotans, We’re tough.

Then maybe I can write an. article about all the snow we get, That’s always a good story

But then again, if I wait long enough, it will melt.