Behind the Lines: by David Heiller

David Heiller With all the cold and snow we’ve had this winter, it’s nice to know that the weather can always be worse, and it HAS been worse. I talked to Red Hansen of Askov a few weeks ago about what was the worst winter he could remem be r. He answered without hesitation that it was the winter of 1949-50. That winter is still listed in the Duluth newspaper as having the most snow ever, 131.6 inches. So far this year, Duluth has received 111.5 inches as of March 4. So with another 20.1 inches, we could break that record, although I hope we don’t . (Editor’s note: We got 135.4 inches that year. The record was broken!) Red made these remarks about the winter of 1949-50. “That winter we had so much snow, it would take a week to get a road cleared, then you’d no sooner get it clea re d off than it would fill back in again, and it would take another week before you could get a plow in there to clear a township road out. “The snow was much deeper, and it moved with the wind...

David Heiller I had the camera with me, but it was one of those assignments that really wasn’t work. Any excuse to take a walk at Beaver Creek Valley State Park will do, thank you, and Saturday night’s was special indeed. Α nighttime walk at Beaver is a bit unusual, but that night it wasn’t hard to do at all. Α group of volunteers had lit hundreds of candles and placed them inside white plastic containers. The containers were spaced about 30 feet apart on two different trails. I wanted to get a photo, but I could see it would not be easy. The candles didn’t cast much light, and I didn’t want to use a flash. So I just walked, carrying my camera and tripod, and hoped for inspiration. But the inspiration was not in a photograph that night. It was in the walk. First carefully, over the twin planks that line one edge of the road over which East Beaver Creek faithfully flows. Then past a crackling fire, manned by volunteer Todd Krueger. Then the trail and the candles, along the...

David Heiller I heard a man making a commentary on the radio on Saturday morning. He had been to a writers’ convention in Florida, and a lady had asked him why he chose to stay in Minnesota. He proceeded to list a lot of things about the state, mostly negative, mostly centered around the weather. I empathized with him for a few minutes. After all, we had just withstood the coldest day and the longest cold spell in the history of the state. Poor us. Poor, stupid us. But then I thought, like Loren Brabec, “Wait just a minute.” It wasn’t so bad. Our family spent a lot of time inside, but it was good time. We played Rumikubs and cribbage and Yahtze. We played music and sang songs. We read garden catalogues and books, and watched a few movies. All with a clear conscience. It was too cold to do anything outside, so why not enjoy it inside? I cleaned the junk drawer and sewed some missing buttons on a pair of pants and two shirts and Cindy’s jacket. We relaxed, and made sure t...