December 20th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
Five days until Christmas. I have my shopping done and now I simply must pace myself on the cookies and candy.
Children love Christmas, as well they should. As with most families, some years, Christmas gifts were easy to come by and some years the budget would not allow for much. The Christmas of 1956 was a memorable one for me. My mother had to move from our home in St. Louis Park due to Dad’s inability to handle booze. Ma’s mother, Grandma Laura Ramlo, drove her 1952 Chevy from Upsala to 1620 Colorado Avenue South in St. Louis Park, put Dad in the back seat and drove him to the VA Hospital in south Minneapolis. She told them, “He is a veteran, he is a drunk and he is your problem, not mine”. Then she took us all back to Upsala to live in the apartment above Ramlo Grocery in Upsala.
I am not sure what the reason was for our ending up living in an apartment in Little Falls in December. It had something to do with getting financial aid. That Christmas, Santa brought us six big Tonka Toy 18-wheel trucks. There was a cattle truck, an oil tanker, a freight truck and three more. This was a perfect gift for a family with five boys. I was 13 years old and brother Bill was 10. We played with them non-stop. I am not sure what my sister Kathie got from Santa that year.
For many years I had the impression that they were from some sort of social agency that served the poor. It turned out that “Santa” was Dewey Johnson, a classmate of my mother’s from Upsala High School class of ’37. Dewey’s cousin was one of the founders of Tonka Toys. Dewey had already passed on before I learned the “rest of the story”, so I never did have a chance to thank him.
Perhaps you know of a family that has come upon hard times, and they could use a “Secret Santa” this year.
“We are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas time”. Laura Ingalls Wilder
December 13th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
In 2000, I purchased a house from the estate of my mother-in-law Irene Rudie. I bought the house “lock, stock and barrel”. One of the many treasures that I found was a diary that Irene had started on March 1, 1927. Once I started reading it, it was hard to put down. She started the diary when her husband John and her were moving from a rented house in South Elmdale, to a forty-acre farm northeast of Upsala. John had remodeled a lumberjack’s shack which they would have to live in until he finished building the barn and the house. The cows got priority over Irene and the children.
At that time, they had three children. The youngest was Jacky who was less than two years old. The journal started with Irene getting the car stuck in the mud on the way to their new farm. She had to walk the last two miles with Virgil and Theresa walking beside her while she carried the baby.
One of the stories in the diary dealt with a cow getting mired in a mud pit. She and John had to leave the children on their own in the shack while the two of them worked long into the night to free the cow. The fear of loss was evident. Every nickel was important. Their abundance was in their capacity to work.
A few years later there was a single entry in the journal for the day. “Bessy got stuck in the mud pit again today. John shot her.”
Tomorrow morning you will have an opportunity to enjoy a very special Christmas concert at Ritsche Auditorium on the campus of St. Cloud State University. The St. Cloud Symphony Orchestra will be performing “Children’s Holiday Concert” at 10am. Another “Holiday Concert” performance will be at 3 in the afternoon You can purchase your tickets at stcloudsymphony.com or at the door. I hope to see you there.
“Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” Leonard Cohen
December 6th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
It looks like the ice on the pond is not going to be very safe for a while. Do not go out there unless you are with a buddy and be sure to check the ice often. When I was a youth in Upsala, we used to drag race our cars across the ice on Cedar Lake west of Upsala. To my knowledge, no one ever went through the ice. We got away with a lot of stupid things as kids. One winter we made a game of standing on the hood from an old DeSoto, using it as a giant snowboard as we were towed in the ditch behind a car. Dumb and dumber.
After a heavy snow we would party by driving into the Burtrum Hills with our old cars, just to try and get stuck. These were not SUVs, we had a 1954 and a 1952 Chevy. We simply packed a lot of boys in the cars with snow shovels in the trunk and went for it. My sister Kathie and one of my classmates both ended up in casts after a toboggan run down a steep hill in the Burtrum Hills.
Try to not let your young children read these Friday notes.
Great River Chorale is presenting “The Gift of Winter”, tonight at Church of Saint Joseph in downtown St. Joseph at 7:30. Sunday’s performance is at 4pm in Bethlehem Lutheran Church in St. Cloud. Tickets can be purchased at www.greatriverchorale.org or at the door. I hope to see you there on Sunday. I do have two pair of tickets for tonight’s performance. Simply respond to this email and I will make sure your tickets are at the will call desk tonight.
“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.” Seneca
November 22nd, 2024 by Gary Osberg
In 1998 Dad moved from his high-rise apartment in downtown St. Paul to my house in Upsala. He had been a city fellow for most of his adult life, but he was raised in Upsala. I was working in Minneapolis as a sales manager with the Xerox agency Albinson and I was gone most of the week. It wasn’t much of an inconvenience to have him there. His passion was cooking; however, I told him in no uncertain terms that I hated the smell of fried foods, and I did not eat leftovers.
In July of 1999 Albinson and Xerox parted their ways and they no longer needed a sales manager. I spent the summer painting old buildings and garages in the Upsala area and started working for Minnesota Public Radio in October of that year. If I did not leave a Post-it note on the counter in the morning that said, “NO SUPPER”, there would be a home cooked meal on the table when I arrived home. The food was awesome. The baked potatoes were done in a very special way. He boiled them for 10 minutes first and then baked them for one hour at 400 degrees.
As Dad struggled with old age and cancer, sometimes the quality of the supper was not up to his usual standards. Also, many times the smell of burnt food or worse, burnt plastic, from the tea pot handle, would greet me as I came in the back door. He liked to take naps, and he burned three tea pots, with plastic handles, in the last six months. It got so that the only time I did not leave out the Post-it note, “NO SUPPER”, was on Fridays.
On Friday November 18, 2004, I came home, and he greeted me with, “I must go to the hospital, but you can eat first. Your supper is in the oven”. I responded, “No way, we will go now!” I put on the oven mitts and grabbed the baked potatoes and the dish of meatballs from the oven and shoved them in the frig and we drove to the VA in Minneapolis.
That was Dad’s “Last supper”, he never did come home. That weekend I ate the leftover meatball supper. It was a very tasty meal.
“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself.” Howard Thurman
November 15th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
I do believe that the first non-profit board of directors that I was asked to join was the St. Cloud Community Arts Council. Susan Dean was the person that asked me to join. At the very first meeting, there was a suggestion by the Executive Director to change the name of the 30-year-old organization. One of the suggestions was “Visual Arts Minnesota” which sounded pretty good to me. I offered to pay a small prize towards the solicitation of a logo design. The St. Cloud Community Arts Council was instrumental in the selection of Anthony Caponi to sculpt the “The Granite Trio” on the mall in downtown St. Cloud. Arlene Helgeson was the chair of the committee that selected Anthony. The dedication took place on August 30, 1973. Senator Hubert Humphrey was there. A grand 40-year anniversary celebration took place on August 30, 2013. The late Jim McAlister created a wonderful video that is available on YouTube. If you would like to have the link, just ask.
Sadly, a few years back, the board of directors of Visual Arts of Minnesota simply ran out of energy and they folded up their tent. Now there is a real danger that the Lake Wobegon Trail Association is going to go the same way. Cliff Borgerding has been the force behind the Caramel Roll Ride, the Lady Slipper Ride, and the Caramel Apple Ride. Cliff is simply unable to continue. Some individual or a group of folks need to step up and take the reins. I have attached a letter from Cliff with his contact information. Please pass the word along to whomever you think might be interested in saving these marvelous recreational opportunities.
“If you can do more, you should.” Robert Redford
November 8th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
I was an army brat. Dad served in the Navy during the second world war and later he joined the Army. In 1950 he was a Sergeant in the 5th Army, stationed in Vienna, Austria. We lived on the second floor of a very nice apartment building at 41 Gregor Mendel Strasse. There were two marble faced fireplaces and a baby grand piano along with a crystal chandelier in the dining room. I ran with a group of other army brats. I was nine years old and the oldest in the group.
One day in February we were hanging out in front of the large estate located across from our apartment. One of the kids stuck his hand through the chain linked fence and a dog took his mitten. I bravely offered to go through the gate and recover the mitten. I still remember starting my walk across the large yard toward the two “Boxers”. They greeted me by jumping up and knocking me to the ground. They proceeded to chew on my arms and legs until an Austrian man who we referred to as the “fireman”, (he took care of the furnace in our apartment building) came in and pulled the dogs off me.
I walked home nearly naked. My mother fainted when she opened the door. I spent about 6 weeks in the Army hospital. It took me a while to get over my fear of dogs. The occupant of the estate on the corner was a Colonel in the U.S. Army, and his wife gave me a new winter coat.
In April of 2019 I returned to Vienna, and I was able to take a cab ride to 41 Gregor Mendel Strasse. I told the cab driver to wait for me and I approached the front door. A resident was getting into his car, and he asked me if I needed help. I shared with him that I had lived there as an Army brat in the fifties and was hoping to see our apartment. He told me to push the button for Benedict, the owner of the building. Someone buzzed me in, and I walked up to the second floor. The lobby looked very familiar. The elevator was new. The faucet which provided water for the flower garden was still there. Marcus let me in. He was a live-in boyfriend of the owner, Verena Benedict. He let me in, but he would not allow me to take pictures. It was an amazing experience.
My mother said that our family was once able to attend a concert presented by The Vienna Boys Choir. Tomorrow night The Vienna Boys Choir will be singing in the Paramount Theatre in beautiful downtown St. Cloud. I have two tickets in row G for the first the first one to respond to this email. I will leave them in Will Call for you. I hope to see you there.
Lesson learned this week: “Any sentence that starts with, “Don’t you”, “Didn’t you…” , “Shouldn’t you….”, or “Couldn’t you…” implies that the person that you are addressing is “deficient”. GMO
October 31st, 2024 by Gary Osberg
In the spring of 1965, I knew I was going to get married in August, but I felt compelled to prove to myself that I wasn’t stupid. I had failed two quarters at the University of Minnesota Institute of Technology after I graduated Upsala High School in 1961, and it weighed on me.
So, I quit my job at Honeywell and signed up for 4 liberal arts classes at St. Cloud State. I paid $10 per week for a room off campus. My favorite class was “Art Humanities 121” taught by David Crane. I still have the textbook, “Purposes of Art” written by Albert E. Elsen. I did much better at SCSU, mission accomplished. The love of art stuck with me.
My daughter teaches art at Upsala High School and both of her daughters are great artists. So, I have become a collector of artwork. Most of the artwork on the walls of my cottage are from my daughter, her daughters or her students. I have a niece who was so successful as an interior designer and artist that she retired to Crescent City, California before her 62nd birthday. She lives close to the Redwood National Parks. She sent me a picture of her backpack positioned at the foot of a large Sequoia tree. The backpack was dwarfed by the tree. I am very pleased with the painting that I commissioned from Mary.
I have many friends that are artists and one of them is Charles G. Kapsner who lives north of Little Falls. Next Thursday, the 7th of November, he is hosting “Odyssey – A 50 Year Artist’s Journey: Not a Still Life.” at Studio Pintura in the NKB Building on Jackson Street NE in Minneapolis. The event starts at 4pm. Details and pictures of his art are at StudioPintura.com
“Beauty perishes in life, but is immortal in art.” Leonardo da Vinci
October 25th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
On Monday I will reach a milestone. For the last twenty-five years I have represented Minnesota Public Radio in central Minnesota, western Minnesota and southwestern Minnesota as well as Sioux Falls, South Dakota and Sun Valley, Idaho. In April we sold the Sun Valley station to Boise State Public Radio, but I picked up the Brainerd territory.
In April of 1999, I was promoted to sales manager of the Xerox agency Albinson in Minneapolis. I lived in Upsala at the time, so I would leave home at 4am every Monday. I rented a room from my cousin Kevin in Golden Valley. I would return to Upsala on Thursday evening and work from Albinson’s St. Cloud branch on Fridays.
On July 13, 1999, I had supper with my son at Byerly’s in Golden Valley. I told Erik that I would keep the old parsonage house in Upsala, but I was planning on moving to Minneapolis, since I had my dream job with a great product, and I would be making a very good living. The very next day I found out that the owners of Albinson didn’t like the new contract that Xerox had presented to them, so they decided that they didn’t want to be the Xerox agency anymore. They would no longer need a sales manager. My boss told me that I should pack my things, and they would pay me thru the end of the month.
I spent the summer of 1999 painting old buildings in the Upsala area. I drove to Randall and went to the back room at Bermel’s Shoes & Boots, the local Red Wing boot dealer. I picked out a good pair of sturdy work boots and started climbing ladders. My first job was painting the Post Office in Upsala and then I painted an outbuilding on my cousin Dave’s farm. Per my brother Bill’s instructions, I used oil-based primer and latex paint. He let me use his power washer. The two buildings that I did the summer of 1999 still look good. The boots are in pretty good shape too.
In August of 1999 I read an ad in the St. Cloud Times for a “Development Officer” for Minnesota Public Radio. I didn’t know what a “Development Officer” was, but it turned out to be sales. A perfect fit. It took two- and one-half months and seven interviews to get this job, but it worked out well. Compared to “slamming boxes for Xerox”, this is more fun than it is work. I have no plans to retire anytime soon.
“It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul” From the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley.
October 22nd, 2024 by Gary Osberg
I spent a lot of my youth in Upsala, Minnesota. There were “Farm Kids” and “Village Kids”. Some were “summer kids”. They were kids whose parent or parents grew up in Upsala and who were sent to Upsala to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa during the summer. Some stayed for a few weeks, and some stayed for the whole summer.
Larry was a “summer kid” and he ended up marrying one of the Upsala beauties. She was chased by all the boys, but Larry won her heart. He was also one of the eight couples that camped on our lakeshore on Cedar Lake west of Upsala every fourth of July. He was a fun-loving fellow who died way too young.
MEA weekend is a special time of the year. Many a father/son(daughter) combo head for the woods or ponds to bring home the “bacon” in the form of grouse or duck. Larry, the “summer kid”, knew that I had never taken up hunting, but he wanted my son Erik and myself to experience a weekend of grouse hunting up north at “the shack”. Larry invited our friend Ron and his son Matt, my son’s best friend, to join him and his son Danny. So, there were three dads and three sons along with a black lab, “Bear”. We formed two teams, and I was the “bird dog” on the DADS team. Bear went with the boys.
The first day we brought back 17 grouse and Larry fixed a meal of grouse with wild rice and cream of mushroom soup in the giant iron skillet that hung from a nail in “the shack”. It was one of the most memorable feasts of my life. I trust that you are doing something special with your family this weekend.
“Remember, it’s not about having time it’s about making time.” Erik Osberg
October 11th, 2024 by Gary Osberg
This afternoon there will be a football game on the grass field in Upsala. Most Fridays the USA Patriots host their games under the lights in Swanville. The Upsala field has no lights.
In my day, the football team was the Upsala `Cardinals’, but some time ago Upsala football merged with Swanville and now it is the USA (Upsala Swanville Area) `Patriots’. If it were not my busy schedule, I would be there in my pristine letterman’s jacket. (In 1984, Marcia bought me a new jacket and transferred the “letter” from my beat up original one.)
In 1957 I was an overweight freshman on the Upsala Cardinal football team. Freshmen wore the old uniforms and old helmets, and we did not win any fashion awards. John Atkinson, a senior running back, ran with his knees pumping up and down high and hard. He still managed to make forward yardage. In practice, I would simply bounce from his knees. The memory of the pain is still with me. That was the year when no other team even scored on the Upsala team. Clarissa got to our three-yard line, but our defense held.
A couple of years ago, the 1957 Upsala football team was inducted into the Upsala Sports Hall of Fame. I was one of nine of the twenty-nine original members of the 1957 Upsala Cardinal football team who showed up for our induction into the Sports Hall of Fame. One of the guys, Dave Chuba, came all the way from Ohio. Bob Soltis was the quarterback and captain of the 1957 team. That year Bob was named to the All-State Football Team.
It was the second year that inductees were chosen for the Upsala Sports Hall of Fame. Bob’s brother Ralph was chosen the previous year and another brother John, who was a junior on the 1957 football team, accepted an individual award for his brother Bob. There were lots of Soltis boys and they all played football. No one lifted weights in those days, they just threw bales of hay all summer. Us “village kids” had a tough time keeping up. “GO PATRIOTS”
“Man’s finest hour is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle victorious.” Vince Lombardi’’
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