Pat Mcgauley's Blog, page 4

FAITH

I know what ‘faith’ is but I checked my dictionary to reconcile my notion: “Faith (noun) is a complete trust or confidence in someone or something. My thesaurus offered words like; trust, belief, conviction, dedication, hope, and others. No problem here.

Faith (adjective) can be a tenuous (weak slight, or insubstantial) matter. I’d guess one’s faith could be easily shaken in that its basis is in the unseen or often unknown.

Okay. The reason for this post has deep personal roots. A priest that I knew very well and respected as a pious man of my Catholic faith was on the list of priests with credible sexual abuse allegations. I was shocked. In fact I wrote the bishop, contacted friends, and made an ‘issue’ of the matter. I even maligned the former classmate who gave the story of her brother’s experience to the Duluth News Tribune. Sadly, I was mistaken and have since apologized. Two weeks ago I learned that another priest who I knew very well was also charged–another unexpected surprise. So, that’s two of perhaps one hundred of the priests I have known over the years.

The Boston story, an explosive expose on a major cover-up of priest abuse, became a powerful movie and shook Catholics (and the general public) to their bones. More recently there had been more of the same despicable behavior–this time in Pennsylvania. My heart goes out to all the victims; how terribly they have suffered over the years.

I’d be dishonest if I claimed my faith was not shaken. My Catholic Church, my religion, my everything spiritual had failed me with its intolerable behavior, and even worse, the generations of coverups at the highest levels. It would have been easy for me to skip going to Mass and nurture my faith in other ways. But . . . I could not. My Catholicism is in my genes. My father and mother were devout Catholics as were generations of MaGauleys and Myres before them.

I found a podcast by Father Michael Schmitz, the chaplain at UMD in Duluth, and listened to his heartwrenching perspective on recent disclosures. It helped a lot. Father Mike is a wise and eloquent voice and I encourage all of you to check out his ‘Bulldog Catholic’ website and podcasts. I am confident that our new generation of priests

are far better prepared for living their vows and comprehending their responsibilities. I pray for them all daily.

In fact, the protagonist of my last several novels is a Catholic priest named Father Mickey Moran. (More about him in another posting).

Anyhow, I continue to go to Mass. My faith is as strong as it ever was. But, at the same time, I realize that most of my Catholic friends are not practicing their faith anymore and haven’t for years. They continue to have their children Baptised and Confirmed but that’s about the extent of it. Thus, their children and grandchildren follow the pattern of being Catholic but not ‘really’ being Catholic and participating in their church. Once the pattern of ‘sleeping in’ on Sundays, etc. becomes thier norm. And, in our rapidly changing culture, I sense a strong undertow of anti-Christianity. God is taking a beating in the media around the world. Satan is always at work and probably reveling in apparent demise of the Christian faith. But this fallen angel will NEVER prevail–NEVER! My God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving. He is the alpha and the omega, and He is the Savior of all who believe and commit to Him.

There. I’ve made my profession of faith and feel good about it. God bless you for bearing with me.

POLITICS

There was a time in my life when ‘politics’ was a big part of my life. I’d always been a news-junkie but a series of events led me to a much deeper involvement in the Minnesota political arena; thus my story and my evolution. While a high school teacher (sociology) in Hibbing if was approached by a man whose name I’ll keep to myself and asked if I’d be interested in running for the Minnesota Senate from this district–the filing deadline was only days away. I gave it some thought and thought ‘why not; I’d have the summer to do some campaigning and it might be fun. I’d taught here for ten years, and although not a ‘native’ Hibbingite, I knew lots of people here and had gone to Virginia JC for two years so I had some friends in the eastern part of the Range as well.

First the fun part. Many of my students (seniors who could vote) rallied to my support and their enthusiasm was contagious. We went door-to-door for months delivering brochures, making signs, doing radio spots, and newspaper ads. The kids were remarkable! Dave Seeba even created a campaign song that aired on the radio stations, Peter Bechetti made political cartoons that were very creative, we even did summer parades. Tim Gray, with Ryan Construction Company, was my financial officer, and Rick Kasner my campaign manager. They raised enough money for a legitimate effort. Now, this was in 1972 and the first year that 18-year-olds could vote and it was also the last year that party designation was not required. I ran as an Independent . . . but was quickly labeled as a Republican in a three-person primary. To the surprise of most I came in second by defeating the mayor of Virginia. So, in the general election I was facing DFL’er George Perpich of the politically successful Perpich machine. Rudy was running for Lieutenant Governor, Tony for the state Senate (east range district) and the incumbent, George.

Needless to say, I lost. But to the dismay of the Perpiches, I carried Hibbing.

Years later, while working as historian at the Iron Range Interpretative Center in Chisholm, I was nominated for the position of Commissioner of the IRRRB–an economic development authority for most of northeastern Minneosta. Al Quie, a Republican, had defeated incumbent Governor Rudy Perpich. Being familiar with the agency, the Governor selected me. It was as Commissioner that I got my first ‘taste’ of hard-ball politics. The Advisory board of twelve included one Republican. My office staff were all hired, and devoted to, the previous Democrat administrations. It was if ‘I’ shouldn’t have happened! Range politics and politicians had been hard-core Democrats for generations. This is steelworkers union country and the DFL has always been very strong.

I compromised, charmed when I could, and survived my four years. Let me say this: Al Quie was the finest, most honest and supportive man I have ever met. He was also an avowed Christian who knew my situation very well. His open commitment to the Range was incredible; making my job so much easier. To this day Quie is nationally known for his work in prison ministry.

Fast forward to the present day. The politics that I enjoyed–however partisan it was up here–has changed rather dramatically. Trump’s message on jobs and foreign steel dumping resonated with workers on the Range (Trump won in Hibbing–something no Republican Presidential candidate in memory has ever done. That aside, I don’t believe the tide has turned, but he has followed up on many of his campaign pledges. The dramatic changes that are most disturbing are on the national stage. The divisiveness runs deeper today than at any time in history. In that I am considered to be a Republican, I have lost friends on social media. I’ll probably lose some more with this blog. Being an educator I am particularly concerned with the American History that is being taught in our public schools and across the campuses of America. I love this country, knowing full well that we have made many mistakes in our past. I believe in our Constitution and the freedoms of speech, assembly, petition, religious expression, and the right to bear arms. I also believe that our government has been corrupted by special interests–the swamp is real. So is what some call the ‘Deep State’ which is the bureaucracy. Despite this, I do not think our country is racist nor sexist nor whatever other ‘ist’ that is bantered about. And, I believe that as an American, all people should respect the office of the Presidency even if they do not like the man who currently holds it. There have been several Presidents–of both parties–that I disliked . . . as well as Senators and Congress/men and women. What bothers me most is that too many people, and politicians that represent them, put their political party first . . . and America second.

Finally, I fear for our democratic republic. I used to watch, and contrast, Fox News and the network news (CNN included from time to time), and have come to the conclusion that I don’t really know the truth about what is going on in my country. So, I watch less new and read fewer papers. I much prefer to watch a mystery on TV or read a good book. Right now I’m hooked on ‘Better Call Saul’ on Netflix–just sayin’. God bless all who read this and our America . . .Amen.

NOSTALGIA

My home of nearly fifty years is located on 5th Avenue West–the outer edge of Hibbing. The railroad line across the street has been vacated for many years and the overburden dump a few hundred yards west of the rails has long been overgrown with aspen, mountain ash, birch and other deciduous trees. The bridge over the highway out to Kerr, Letonia, and Kelly Lake has been torn down yet the traces of past mining activity remain everywhere abundant. There was a lot of history made a rock’s throw away from my front yard. As I look out the window I see a blanket of green where once there was one of many vast dumps of overburden or low-grade ore with rail lines hauling material from the Hull-Rust-Mahoning and other adjacent open pit mines. I sometimes hike across the one across the street and find that it has become a network of four-wheeler and snowmobile trails.

Not far to the northwest of here I can bicycle on the incredible ‘Mesaba Trail’–a biker’s dream that runs from Grand Rapids to Aurora on the East Range. It’s a challenging trail but the remnants of our past are in evidence everywhere. One of my favorite segments is between Chisholm and Kinney . . . but the ride from Keewatin to Calumet is also a great ride. Between Hibbing and Kerr Location (one of nearly a hundred other small mining villages–now ghost towns– built near the edges of the gaping open-pits) there is a spectacular overlook. Yes, the mining still goes on at Hibtac, and has been expanding in recent years, far below overlook platform. But now the ‘New Age’ mining of a low-grade ore called taconite prevails as the rich hematite ore has been exhausted. Today the equipment–electric shovels, 240-ton trucks, and enormous processing plants are the norm. Yet, for me, it’s still exciting to watch the pit activity ever-deeper in the bowels of the earth.

What always comes to my mind is what it was like back in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s when sweat and blood miners did what massive machines do so efficiently today. It was dangerous work. Back-breaking work. Work that paid little. The pre-union days of exploitation by the Rockefellers and Carnegies with their big companies like the Oliver division of U.S. Steel. But the thousands of immigrants drawn to the opportunity to work established a unique culture–a melting pot of Slovenians, Croatians, Italians, Finns, and people from every corner of Europe lived and worked in relative harmony. And yes, they came from Michigan’s mines as well–the Irish, British, and Welsh veterans who spoke English got the better jobs . . . of course. When operations shut down in the harsh winter months the lucky miners were able to find jobs in logging the vast forests of Northern Minnesota. The belief was that a man could come here, make a fortune, and return to his native country and buy land–land was wealth. Few ever returned.

Gone are those robust days and robust towns across the Mesabi. Times of saloons and brothels that were not much different than the ‘Old West’ of American history. Eventually, many of the women from faraway countries followed their men here and life became more settled. Hibbing became a mining hub and rival of Virginia twenty-five miles east as the Range stretched for nearly one hundred miles. Taconite, in the fifties and sixties, spawned new communities like Hoyt Lakes and Babbit and Silver Bay on the North Shore of Lake Superior.

As I reminisce my thoughts go back to my days as a historian and, years later, my first novel. I’ve often thought of another story set in those times but I’ve taken another path in my literary life. Yet, despite the years between ‘To Bless or To Blame’ (my first novel) and ‘Waiting’, soon to be my thirteenth novel, I’ve stuck with the Moran family through five generations. I’ve been blessed.

COUNTING MY BLESSINGS

Yesterday’s post came on a ‘blue’ day and I apologize if i came across as negative. Writing for me is a great joy but elf-publishing my work is no fun at all. Nor is marketing. That aside, I really like my latest noveL. At times I became so absorbed in the Moran family saga that four hours would pass and three thousand words were added to the text. WAITING, if all goes as I hope it will, should be published in the fall.

I cannot emphasize enough how much my faithful readers mean to me. It is a blessing to get an email, or a positive comment on this page from someone who has read every one of my books. When I have my first few book-signings I can predict who will be among the first in line for the new title.

At the moment I am waiting on my first reader’s critique and am anxious to get back on the project. Waiting for an impatient person like myself makes for long days. Fortunately, this week will be busy with the Independence Day activities and the Hibbing Jubilee on the weekend that follows. My daughter Erin and her two kids (Jack off to college this fall and Grace begins kindergarten) will be visiting here and then over to Cohasset to see her brother’s (Tiffer, Susan, Braden, Noah and Maddi) family before heading back to the Cities and then Naples. Shannon and Cali will visit us in August. In between Gail and I will visit her daughter and her new little girl, Daphney.

So, this morning I am counting my many blessings: family, friends, and faith. And I’m home for the summer. Home is truly where the heart is and, despite it’s obvious decline in recent years, Hibbing is home. And Hibbingites are among the best people anywhere. Take a moment on this gloomy Sunday to count your own blessings . . . we tend to let them gather the dust of time. Memories are our treasures. God bless.

IT IS WHAT IT IS!

It’s been said that one should never write anything when he/she is in a funk. I’m in a funk this morning.

My day began as it often does with a perusal of the Minneapolis Star-Trib. On page 2 was an interesting survey-based story ‘READING AT AN ALL-TIME LOW’. According go a reputable survey and supported by the National Institute of the Arts, pleasure reading has dropped by 40% since 2004–last year less than 20% of Americans over age 18 read a book. Why was I not surprised? Books (bookstores, etc) are becoming passe as computers, cell phones, and TV are alternatives. The average American spends 2 hours and 45 minutes watching the tube.

Things I’ve observed in the past year or more:

My website activity is down. I have not sold a single book this year from my website. Worse, I don’t get any comments from my readers.

My Amazon orders are down.

*I actually lose money on an Amazon order of a new title. If you check out my books on their site you’ll find a wide discrepancy in prices of new and used titles. I get $O.00 on any used title. Add to that, hardly anybody takes the time to comment or rate my stories. Potential purchasers almost always look for comments.

I’ve lost the service of my distributor–quit the business.

Local independent bookstores die at alarming rates.

On E-Bay many of my books can be purchased for about $4.00 or less!

And, why purchase a book when it’s on the library shelves?

My last novel, TWELVE, did not sell well and I have red ink in my ledger for the first time in years.

I am on the cusp of publishing my thirteenth novel at the considerable personal expense. I think it’s my best work and considerably longer (115,000 words) than my past seven Father Mickey stories. I’ve invested countless hours and am looking now at the upcoming expenses of publication–copyright, ISBN identification, barcode and production costs which will probably drain my PJM Publishing’s checking account. Earlier this week–after preliminary editing by Gail Nevalainen–I passed the story on to Rich Dinter for his insightful critique . . . so I’m on the path to another rewrite and final editing. And, I’m on a schedule that must have finished copies available by mid-October for sales events in November. Timewise, I’m behind schedule as well. Between now and mid-August I’ll have to decide to publish or sit on the book until some later date.

The title of the last Father Mickey novel is WAITING. In the story Mickey will leave the priesthood. The question that has lingered throughout recent stories is: will Mickey and Mary (the mother of his son Michael) decide to get married. WAITING has lots of twists and lots of tension and the ending will leave some readers very pleased and others disappointed. John Steinbeck, after Grapes of Wrath, was criticized for is ending of the story. He said,

“A story never has an ending. . .” Perhaps I subscribe to that notion. Feel free to comment on this rather dismal blog. Regardless, the sun will rise in the morning.

PS: I want to retract every positive thing that I said about the TWINS in my last posting. Their performance this year has added to my funk. Be well and God bless . . .

TWINS: 2018 EDITION

As I hope you know, I am a Twins fanatic and an optimist. They surprised me last year in a positive way and I doubt if they will slip back to the 2016 debacle. The new front office (FO) has done many things that have gone under the radar; mainly building the organization’s player development and scouting. Some of the best baseball analysts have come on board and their presence will be noticeable for years to come.

The FO has also addressed the most important needs without spending a lot of money or giving out long-term contracts. They needed starting pitching and a much-improved bullpen. And they did well in both areas. We now have two accomplished starters and three veteran relievers. In addition, they picked up a designated hitter (Morrison) who knocked out 38 home runs last season for Tampa Bay. Ervin Santana will be ready by mid-May as will Trevor May and the Twins farm system is stacked with strong arms ready to prove themselves.

All this along with basically the same starting lineup that made the wild-card playoff spot last season.

Catcher: Castro

First: Mauer

Second: Dosier

Short: Escobar (Palonco has been suspended for fifty games-substance abuse.)

Third: Sano

Left Field: Rosario (arm issues?)

Center Field: Buxton

Right Field: Kepler and two other options.

And Paul Molitor has become a respectable manager.

So, what to expect. I’ve been to three spring training games and been up to Ft. Myers to watch workouts twice. What impressed me the most was the positivism of players and staff. They have brought in people like Jim Kaat, Justin Morneau, Michael Cuddyer, Torri Hunter and others to help younger prospects.

The Central Division favorites again this year are the Cleveland Indians with the other four teams chasing them–that’s what the experts claim. I predict that the Twins will win the Central by five or more games this year. The Yankees will run away with the East and the Astros the West.

I’m on record. “Play Ball!”

BLESSINGS

Every day I count my blessings and having gone to Mass this morning I’m especially reflective. First, I thank God for His gift of creativity as I continue to work on my next novel. I’m often asked, “Where do you get your ideas?”

I usually have a trite answer like “stories just seem to come to me” but I know better. We all have gifts, or blessings, and express them in countless ways. Friends are blessings that come immediately to mind. Someone once said that friends are ‘the gold in our lives’ and I’m a believer in that. I could cite numerous examples in my daily life. Being an author I rely on book sales to fund what I’m doing–each book has provided just enough income to cover the cost of my next story. Believe me, I’m not making a living by self-publishing my writing. I’ve sold more than 10,000 books over the past fifteen years and have just enough in my book account to publish ‘Waiting’, my next (and thirteenth) novel. Recent years have seen countless independent bookstores close their doors and my book distributor has gone out of business–unable to compete with the ‘big dogs’ of publishing.

My market has always been regional so I am dependent on a few local book-signings and an occasional Amazon order. One blessing that I must share in this regard is a lady that most in Hibbing know well. Patty Shafer and her small gift shop (the Mulberry Bush) are closing. For the past few years, Patty has been my sole outlet and I will miss her greatly. Thanks Patty and God Bless. Thanks also to the Express Print staff for their professionalism, thanks to Jeremy Hendrickson for maintaining my website, to Kelly Griensteinner at the Hibbing Tribune for always launching a new book with a story in the Sunday Tailings section and to Leah Ryan at the Mesaba Daily for her stories. I could single out many others who have helped along the way. For example, I needed to get an expert’s insights on a fire scene in my new story. I called Peter Leschak and he was very helpful–it seems that whenever I ask someone for help they are, like Pete, more than willing to answer any questions I might have. As you may know, I also use real people in my stories (without permission) because they–or their surnames– seem to fit into the fabric of the story. I’ve never asked Father Gabriel for his permission but he ends up in my stories quite often as my protagonist is the fictitious priest, Father Mickey Moran. And I’ve had conversations with others that will come up in future stories. Last fall I spent a wonderful hour with Tony Faticci, a former student and a courageous Marine, thinking at the time that a vet might be a character in the story I was contemplating. Maybe we’ll talk again, Tony, as I still have a character like yourself in a book tht still lingers in the back of my thoughts for another time. (His mom, Jan, has sent Tony copies of my books to Iran and Afghanistan and other places he has served his country). And last but not least, my pre-readers and editors.

Blessings are plentiful in my life. I have a little place in Florida for the winter months and Gail back home to shovel snow and keep the home fires burning, along with the Blessed Sacrament group who keep me in their prayers, and the best kids and grandkids to enrich my every day. Speaking of Florida, I’ll be staying an extra month (May) for my grandson Jack’s graduation–and May is very hot down here. Yes, I could go on forever as I’m sure any of you who read this post could do. And speaking earlier of my book outlet in Hibbing, I’ll be looking for a merchant in town to help me as Patty has with my book sales.

Finally, my new story is currently at 84,000 words and two or three chapters to finish the ‘rough’ draft. My previous books have been about 102,000 words should you find time to count them. I really like it but don’t yet know how it will end. That to me is exciting.

PS: One of the neat things about being down here in the spring is following my ‘Twins’ during spring training. My next blog will be my analysis of the Twins in 2018–and my growing confidence that they are going to provide us with a very successful season.

God’s Blessings to you all.

WAITING

My first report from the ‘Sunshine State’ is an optimistic one.

Naturally, I follow the weather in Hibbing and all the Minnesota stuff on the internet. It’s been cold up there.

Now down here it’s been cold, too. A different kind of cold. A cold that gets to my bones. As strange as it may seem, last week there was a ‘wind chill’ warning for Naples–it got down to 37 degrees one night. Believe me, a veteran of Minnesota ‘wind chill factors’ it’s a whole different feeling here. But, that’s behind us now. We’re back in the 70’s and 80’s for the foreseeable future. Hate to start a blog with the weather.

Since arriving in late November, I’ve been doing some ‘readin’, ritin’, and rithmatic’.

Readin”. I got hooked on Richard Russo and it’s been both good and bad. He’s good but I get frustrated because I can’t (on my best day) develop characters and humor like he can. The best read I’ve had lately, however, is ‘The Shoemaker’s Wife’ by Adriana Trigiani. Adriana has some Chisholm roots and her story goes back to the days of immigrants and settling in northern Minnesota. She does a marvelous job with capturing the times. It reminded me of my first book–an historical fiction–titled ‘To Bless or to Blame’. So much so that I sent Adriana a copy of that and the sequel.

Ritin’. This morning I passed the 25,000-word mark on my next novel. (That would be about a quarter of what my previous novels were . . . but I’m going strong and the story is coming to me at a scary pace. The working title of the new story will be ‘WAITING’. I know that the prologue to ‘TWELVE’–my last book–suggested that Father Mickey was in a good place and that I’d be moving on to some new adventure without him and the familiar cast of characters. Well, Mickey wasn’t done with me! I thought I left where he needed to be . . . but he has a way of getting restless. Maybe some of that transfuses through the author’s hand. I like what’s happening.

Rithmatic’. Living both here for a few months and home in Hibbing most of the yeqr does have its costs–especially when there are some expensive projects on my house at 2808–windows and doors. Gail keeps the homestead going and does the back-breaking snow-shoveling, etc. (Hope to reward her with a little Florida vacation next month for all she does). During the cold snap here my AC/Heating system died. A replacement cost of over $3000 . . . and my computer died as well. A new MacBook Air added over another $1000 that I didn’t have. So my saving account dwindles. Fortunately, my teacher’s retirement went up $7.00 a month and Social Security another $8.00 monthly.

Being on a fixed income sucks!

My grandson, Jack, will graduate in May so I’m planning to stay down here rather than drive back north and fly back down. I’m told that May gets awfully damn hot but my daughter and grandkids have made the adjustment quite well. Jack has been accepted at a prestigious college in Massachusetts that I’d never heard of. Babson. It’s an elite school but Jack is an elite kid.

Next week my oldest daughter, Shannon, will be down for her annual visit and I look forward to having the company. She will spend almost all of her time here beachcombing. Then, hopefully, Gail, and in mid-March my old high school buddy Dick Nierengarten will spend two weeks with me and a month at a place he has rented these past few years. So, I’ll add biking to my daily regimen.

Please feel free to comment. I like to be in touch with anybody who takes the time to read my blogs.

Mickey

If you’ve checked this post the chances are that you know who Mickey is. If not, Father Michael ‘Mickey’ Moran is a priest born in Hibbing (Minnesota) and currently the chaplain of the Newman Center at UMD in Duluth. Mickey is a fictitious priest and my protagonist first introduced to readers seven books ago. He and his family have been a ‘second family’ to me for seventeen years and twelve novels. I’m realizing that it’s hard to deliberately, and without justification, to abandon one’s family and let them fend for themselves. (Even if I believe I left them in a happy place). I’ve tried and the guilt is overwhelming for one who has a passion for writing.

In the ‘Prologue’ to TWELVE (my last novel) I concluded with . . . “If I finish my career with TWELVE, so be it. ‘If’ is the most ambiguous two-letter word in the English language. Many of my readers have told me “Don’t!”–don’t finish your writing career and/or don’t quit telling stories about Mickey.

I’m sending this blog from Naples, Florida, where I’ve written my last few books in rough-draft form before the rewrite polishing begins when I return to Hibbing and continues through the summer months. Rewriting is always hours of tedious and frustrating work . . . then comes all the necessary hoops going from story to publication. That’s almost worse! So maybe it’s the summer stress that makes me feel ‘no more!’. If I so enjoy writing why not just post a blog every day or so? I think that was my strongest feeling after TWELVE was finally published last October.

Since my arrival here I’ve started two stories with different characters and locales. With both I’ve hit a wall. Not that the stories might not be very good but with each one I found something missing. Four ‘M’s’ were missing: Mickey, Mary, Michael, and Meghan … along with a host of others in Hibbing and Duluth. (I even missed Bishop Bremmer).

So, long story short, I’m not going to abandon my Moran family. Now, this new story might never be published; at least not in my lifetime. We’ll just have to see if I have the energy, stamina, and the willingness to run the publishing gauntlet another time.

I would be remiss if I failed to add a commercial note before signing off. TWELVE has sold very well in the few months it’s been on the market–as have it’s two predecessors ‘The Sacred Seal’ and ‘Tears’. This is somewhat remarkable because I have only one sales outlet in a shop that is up for sale. Yes, Patty Shafer’s ‘Mulberry Bush’ may not remain open after the first on the new year. Patty carries ALL of my fifteen titles and has done a wonderful job. With Christmas only days away please consider a book (or books) for those on your shopping list. I’ve always believed that a book is a cherished gift and one that keeps on giving. I’d give a plug to Amazon and their Kindle e-books as an option but they take most of any profit there is to make. Does that surprise anybody? And profits are what enable me to self-publish my stories.

Look for my next blog sometime after the first of 2018. And let me wish all who read this post a very MERRY CHRISTMAS and a happy, healthy, peaceful, successful NEW YEAR. May God bless you all abundantly.

North Hibbing

Almost everybody who knows anything about Hibbing is aware of the incredible story about ‘The Town That Moved’. It is fact that the expanding Oliver Mining operations realized that the village of Hibbing (a thriving mining hub of nearly 20,000 residents) was situated atop some of the richest hematite ore ever recorded. The shareholders/fee-owners of the Oliver decided that the ore was more valuable than the village and the demand for steel was growing by leaps and bounds. Oh, I must add that the mining companies owned the mineral rights to all property and had the legal right to claim the land . . .something akin to eminent domain. The moving of structures began in the early 1920’s and continued into the 1960’s. Buildings of incredible size were moved south to a newly laid out grid of infrastructure and streets and homeowners had the right to purchase and move their houses to the new location–many did.

When I arrived in HIbbing in 1966 as a teacher at Hibbing High School (a magnificent structure unrivaled in its day) I took an interest in the rich history of the city. Hibbing had a prospering downtown, a large hospital, classic memorial arena, an airport . . . just about everything. (Much of the new construction was done by the mining companies–the High School included).

Not long after my arrival here I wandered around the old townsite and some of the foundation ruins of the past. The feeling was haunting. I could imagine life in that city and the scope and power of the Oliver. I was so enthralled by the history that when I retired from ISD 701 I took up writing and set my first novel. It was historical fiction backed with countless hours of research. I still get that feeling whenever I’m in ‘North Hibbing’. The mining still goes on–and is expanding–only a stone’s throw away. Of course, it’s a different form mining than that of the olden days when back-breaking labor was critical to production.

The other day while browsing Facebook I saw a picture that captured my attention and my emotions in equal measure. The photo was taken by Kirsten Kepler and I asked for and received her permission to use the photo on my website. The Garfield Street corner took me back to my first novel. Thanks Kirsten, sharing your photo made my day.

Now, twelve novels later, I’m contemplating going back to where it all started. To Bless or to Blame has been my most widely read novel and the one that has made the strongest impression on my readers. It took a simple photo to stir my heart. I just finished reading a novel titled ‘The Shoemaker’s Wife’ by Adriana Trigiani. The story swept me away. The immigrants leaving behind the land they loved to find success in America was the spirit of my first novel but Adriana’s story had an even richer texture than my own.

Lastly, I will never be a ‘Ranger’ in the truest sense as I was born in Duluth. But this place has shaped me as a person and blessed me in ways beyond description.