I’ve written about the Children’s Blizzard today, but decided to put it into Reprint because of the focus on history.
I’m very glad that the blizzard we had over the weekend did not kill 250-500 people.
Historical Snowstorms and Blizzards
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Tag Archives: local news
Lutefisk and Other Questionable Food-Like Substances
I wrote a story about a great local lutefisk supper in a mostly serious way, but I also wrote some extremely silly fake headlines for it that we obviously didn’t use.*
Here’s the real headline:
Lots of lutefisk: Church readies 375 pounds of Scandinavian delicacy
Here are the fakes, with at least one addition from others in the newsroom:
Lutefisk: Probably a crime against humanity
Lutefisk: Run while you still can.
Lutefisk: Banned by the Geneva Convention.
Lutefisk: Wait, you want me to eat what?
Lutefisk: Because trials of fish soaked in arsenic didn’t go so well.
Lutefisk: Scandinavians’ attempt to see what they can get other people to eat
Lutefisk: Making haggis sound yummy
Lutefisk: Try it, you won’t die (probably)
375 pounds of lutefisk: Scandinavian WMDs
Lutefisk: A true tale of Scandinavian passive-aggression
Lutefisk: Why?
Lutefisk: No, seriously, people eat it
Lutefisk: 1 out of 10 people prefer it to tree bark
Have any suggestions for more? Hit the comments!
I think everyone should get the chance to at least smell lutefisk, and, if they have the fortitude, try a taste. Lutefisk is meant to be served hot, and generally with melted butter. My family likes to mash it in with potatoes and stuff it into a piece of lefse to make a sort of potato-fish burrito.
Do not use silver plated silverware with lutefisk.
Do not overcook lutefisk.
Do not taunt lutefisk.
* I am half Norwegian, and my grandfather makes lutefisk for Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. So yes, I do respect lutefisk, but after extensive exposure, I feel entitled to make fun of it a bit. I have never eaten it, but believe it is a fine old tradition best practiced by people who are not me. My brother has eaten lutefisk and I am happy to say he has suffered no ill effects. Some day his tastebuds may grow back.
The Whole Story in 12 Words
A while back I was working on a story about the massive 2009 flood here in Jamestown for a company-wide project. The story ended up not getting used, but before it ended, we asked the project leader how long my story should be.
The answer: 12.
It turned out that meant 12,000 words, but I sent a silly email to my editor headed, triumphantly: Another Assignment Done!
With the following “story options.”
Dark waters threatened Jamestown, lapping at the Glory Hole on the James.
Too much water in Jamestown, sandbags ahoy! It was time to panic.
Flood control solutions were wanted in Jamestown. Wanted: Very large paper towels.
(Of course the actual flooding was very obviously not funny at all, but scary and nerve-wracking. The actual 12,000-word story was not funny either.)
I Went to Jail (But They Let Me Out)
I know I’ve been unusually quiet lately.
Part of it is because I haven’t been out and about as much as I usually am (and thus have less to say), and part of it is because I’m working on a very large story, or series of stories, about the 90-plus-page report on the Stutsman County Correctional Center.
The report itself is pretty interesting, but given its size and scope it’s taking me a while to get the information, and then to get it organized in a coherent fashion. These types of stories are hard to do because you generally have five to six really important facts that you want to get in at the beginning of the article. And the problem with that is that only one thing can really be at the very beginning.
And in this case I talked to five people about the story (some people multiple times, and once, yes, at the jail) and read the jail report too. That’s a lot of information to condense into even two or three stories.
It doesn’t present quite the same challenge as transforming a page full of statistics into a story (I’m looking at you, AYP results!), but it’s still rather time-consuming and requires a great deal of thought.
The stories should be done this week, I hope.
However, because it will take a year to two years to implement some of the changes resulting from the study, there will likely be more stories about the changes at the jail later, as we check up on how the changes are going and what the financial impact has been. I’ve already learned a lot about jails, and hopefully, so will our readers.
Hopefully, I’ll be blogging a bit more once I’m done with the first stories, though!
A Bit More on Pertussis
My story on pertussis this week didn’t focus too much on the cause of the recent uptick in whooping cough cases we’re seeing nationwide. Is it unvaccinated children? is it unvaccinated adults? something else?
Anne Polta did a wonderful examination of the question on her HealthBeat blog, and I recommend taking a look at it.
I do have to wonder if Minnesota’s recent uptick has anything to do with Andrew Wakefield’s visit. For the record, Wakefield’s “study” claiming autism is caused by vaccines was fraudulent and he deliberately falsified data for it. He is no longer permitted to practice medicine in the U.K. and his fraudulent “work” has been discredited in countless scientific fora.
North Dakota’s already seen more cases this year than it saw all year last year, but the really alarming numbers are coming out of Minnesota, where there have been 1,881 cases this year thus far.
I gathered the numbers for Minnesota’s pertussis cases for the last decade-and-change, all of which are available on the state’s Dept. of Health website. Here they are.
2012 1881 to date
2011 661
2010 1143
2009 1134
2008 1034
2007 393
2006 320
2005 1571
2004 1368
2003 207
2002 429
2001 308
2000 575
As you can see, and as I noted in my article, numbers for pertussis fluctuate quite a bit and there are plenty of ups and downs.
Yet this year isn’t just another “up.” The number of cases Minnesota has had in seven months has significantly outstripped the numbers from every other year since 2000. That’s the most recent year I had easy access to numbers for, too, so it might even go back further. I have no idea. However, this is definitely a matter for concern.
Part of the problem is that people are not vaccinating their children. Part of the problem is that adults are not getting vaccinated themselves.
I will (mostly) spare you the lecture on herd immunity and explanations of why it is critical that ordinary healthy adults stay updated on their vaccines, but I would like to note that whooping cough can be especially devastating to babies. Most people want to keep babies safe.
Health officials recommend that adults get a Tdap vaccination. People are supposed to get a Td booster every 10 years anyway, and Tdap takes the place of that, so you won’t even need any extra shots.
It’s virtually painless (the needle is ultra-tiny), most insurance companies pay for it and it’ll probably take less than half an hour. You don’t even need an appointment for it at some clinics.
And frankly, you don’t want to get whooping cough anyway. It sounds a lot like having the worst cold imaginable, and you can have it for more than six weeks. Having a minor cold for six days is bad enough for me, thanks.
Mystery Flowers and Tenacious B.G.
Mystery Flowers!
Someone sent me flowers last week!
I’d love to pretend it was a secret admirer, but I’m not the sort of person who gets flowers from secret admirers.
I do get flowers from my parents, and sometimes I get flowers from interviewees.
So maybe it was the lovely ladies of the Jamestown Area Grief Support Team. I interviewed them on Wednesday, and as always, they were a hoot and a half. Or maybe it was my parents, who would know that I collect teacups. (Note the lovely teacup flowerpot, which is not only supercute but allows drainage as well.)
Thank you, flower-givers! They were much appreciated and they made my whole day a shiny day.
In other news, as you can see, B.G. survived his transition into the red pot, and his children have stayed at home in the blue B.G. pot. They look a lot happier now that they’re not all stuffed together in one tiny little space, don’t you think?
I hope I don’t kill them.
Drag Racing in Jamestown
View at the Start of a Drag Race. July 29, 2012, in Jamestown, North Dakota.
This is what it looks like to be part of a drag race.
Today, I got to experience a little bit of the adrenaline rush and speed of a real drag race when Bob Baumann of Jamestown took me for a ride-along in his 1933 Ford Victoria. This, by the way, is the most beautiful car ever, and I would have been thrilled to ride in it under any circumstances whatsoever, even just for a zip around the block.
Bob Baumann and 1933 Ford Victoria
As you can see, the interior is pretty small. There was a sort of double-seat-belt harness thingy in there for safety, and I had to wear a helmet as well. It felt pretty tight, but not uncomfortably so, considering I have a ginormous head. Seriously. I’m sort of surprised it hasn’t got satellites.
1933 Ford Victoria Interior
As you can see from the picture, it’s got crash bar thingies and so forth in there too, so it actually felt pretty safe. Or maybe I just have no sense of self-preservation. Could be that.
What was it like? Well, it was awesome. The car rumbled and roared like a lion chasing down a gazelle, and although we didn’t get up to positively ludicrous speeds, it was fast enough to feel quite a bit like being on a rollercoaster. I think I went “Eeee!” but not too loud, because I didn’t want Mr. Baumann to think I was insane or possibly a chipmunk.
And one more thing: drag racers may well be the nicest people ever. Everyone I talked to at the Jamestown Regional Airport today was super, super nice and helpful above and beyond the call of duty. Leon Westerhausen, president of the Jamestown Drag Racing Association, took time to answer all my newbie-questions about drag racing, even though he was pretty busy. Daine Flieth, a volunteer at the event, drove me from place to place in a golf cart for interviews, which sped up the process considerably.
And other people helped arrange my ride in the car, and of course, Mr. Baumann let me set foot in his lovely car, let alone took me for a race in it.
I’m totally nerding out over it, actually! Many thanks to the folks who helped me out with the article, from the interviewees, JDRA and drivers to the editor and writer who read the thing after it was done.
And now, since all of you already know I’m a. insane and b. possibly a chipmunk:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy Birthday, White Cloud!
I’ve said it before, but Jamestown is the only city I know where you go to a birthday party and eat the relatives of the honoree.
The party, of course, was in honor of White Cloud, Jamestown’s very famous white buffalo, and yes, buffalo burgers were served. Nothin’ wrong with that!
I opted for a fry bread taco and a cinnamon-drenched elephant ear instead, when I went to the Frontier Village/Buffalo Museum on Saturday to scope out the celebration. It was pretty hopping down there, with lots of people from Jamestown as well as the surrounding area and points further abroad, and Buffalo Museum staff were serving up delicious birthday cake as part of the festival. Very tasty stuff!
I didn’t get a look at White Cloud, but far off in the distance I did catch a glimpse of some of the other buffalo, just hanging out. Guessing the sun was a little too bright and shiny for the albino buffalo, who have sensitive eyes and generally stick to the shade on days like Saturday. Hopefully White Cloud had a nice birthday celebration wandering around out there, just bein’ a buffalo.
On the way out I bought some N.D.-made honey and rhubarb jam.
I also caught the fireworks display Saturday night. They started a bit late–scheduled for 10:30 but they started closer to 11 p.m. — but they really were pretty spectacular.
I noticed there were a couple of “shaped” fireworks–a heart, and a flower–which I don’t recall ever having seen before. Cute stuff! There were also some noise-making fireworks, which I hadn’t heard before, possibly because I’m not usually close enough.
Personally, I like the big golden bursts that fall like the branches of a weeping willow.
Election Day!
It’s primary election day in North Dakota, and for a newsroom that means an evening of fun, togetherness and a bit of last-minute stress as the deadline approaches.
The polls close at 7 p.m. tonight, with vote totals expected at 8:30 or 9 p.m. But the whole paper has to be done and out the door by 11. That gives us very little time to write, proof, place and send everything.
It can be stressful, but I like it, too — the camaraderie is great and this being the Midwest, there’s always food around.
I just made half a pot of coffee.
Huzzah for elections!
The Oil Patch: It’s Not What You Think
I visited North Dakota’s Oil Patch last week and discovered the truth about the area, often compared to the Wild West and considered frightening, dangerous and filled with men who would shoot you just to watch you die.
Unsurprisingly, after a visit to Williston and a general tour of the area, as well as a quick stop in Walmart there and a brief hour or so in a bar, I found it’s really not that bad.
Caveat: I have actually lived in the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood in Minneapolis, which is… well. As a Minnesotan all I can really say is “It’s not a nice neighborhood.” Partly because we’re Nice and partly because I can’t remember how long after I left that guy was shot to death a block from where I lived, or how bad the stabbing in the parking lot was. And yes, I did get held up at gunpoint there. So it’s not a very nice neighborhood.
Williston is going through massive changes. That much is stunningly obvious. There’s construction everywhere, there are man camps everywhere, at Walmart they can’t keep certain items on the shelves.
A few words about Walmart, as it’s been a locus of rumors. They stopped allowing people to park campers in its parking lot, and they staff a 24-hour security guard. My colleague Logan Adams and I visited it at about 9 p.m., and there were about 5 men to every 1 woman shopping. The women were generally not unaccompanied, but whether they were with men or in pairs with other women varied a bit. The lines were very long.
Many of the men there were blue collar guys, either oil field workers or construction guys, or maybe they worked in various other fields. Plenty of tattoos, plenty of people from various ethnicities.
Not one of them seemed the slightest bit interested in making trouble of any kind. They were just shopping. In fact, while we were waiting in line to buy something, one of them politely waved us forward to the checkout counter instead of jumping in front of us when we were slow.
Picture from Logan Adams: https://twitter.com/LoganCAdams
It was very obvious the Walmart in Williston is having trouble keeping certain things on shelves. There were quite a few things on pallets waiting to be shelved, and there were quite a few items that were completely gone. The shelf containing water, for example, was completely empty. Many campers don’t have running water, so people living in them have to buy it.
A lot of other shelves that were empty had contained what I called “dude food,” meaning food an 18-25-year-old guy would buy–ramen noodles, frozen dinners, meat, and frozen pizza. I haven’t ever seen such a large selection of frozen pizza in my life. It took up a little more than half of a very long freezer aisle. The meat section had been decimated, so maybe some of these guys have grills. That would be nice, I thought. Dudes like to grill. It’s a total stereotype, but there’s some truth in it too.
Movies were obviously popular, as a bargain bin of DVDs had been decimated and clearly certain flicks were selling well. You had to wonder about some of them. “The Fox and the Hound”–are these guys nostalgic for their youth? Maybe. I did notice that the stack of Twilight movies was completely untouched.
On a tour of the Williston area, we drove past numerous man camps, some of which looked sort of liveable, and others of which looked like people warehouses, drab, soulless and dormlike beyond belief. I don’t mean nice dorms. I mean icky dorms.
Houses are being built too. This isn’t an area of emphasis for most press coverage, because houses are being built everywhere, but it’s still pretty interesting from my perspective.
No care at all is being taken to stop or even limit erosion at any of these sites, or at least, none that I saw. There’s lots of exposed soil, all of which I’m sure ends up in the waterways every time it rains. I suppose high-turbidity water isn’t first on anyone’s list of concerns over there at this point.
The houses being built in nice suburb-type areas vary quite a bit, but they are being built very, very close together compared to suburbs in, say, Plymouth, Minn. Land values must be at an extreme premium even for people who can afford massive houses.
Not one person made me feel the least bit uncomfortable the entire time I was there. That’s not to say bad things don’t happen in the Oil Patch; I just don’t think it’s quite as bad as people make it out to be.
Sure, if you’re from a really rural area, like the Oil Patch used to be, and you are used to small-town life, it may be a shock to you to suddenly have to lock your door at night. It’s just not what you’re used to, and you may very well not like it. That’s entirely fair. Then again, these days, it’d be a good idea to take that precaution no matter where you live.
But from the perspective of this outsider, it’s really not that bad.
