Morris music prodigy got kicked out of practice

Mona Lyn Reese

Don't we all have a memory of a school teacher from our past who applied excessive punishment or discipline? It's unfortunate that every time I think of Morris native Mona Lyn Reese, I have such a memory. I had occasion to talk with Mona's brother at a visitation last week. It was a pleasant conversation. Mona's brother Scott is one of those high school peers who is always comforting to see the rest of your life. You can all think of such people I'm sure.
In the course of our conversation, I just had to allude to a notorious incident - "notorious" is not overstatement - from MAHS marching band history. Marching band was a most thriving chapter in our town's history. Naturally you could hear the band practicing over a wide area, just as we could once hear Duane Kindschi's voice blaring from Coombe Field when football season started. These were pleasant signals of the vitality of our community. We need more such signs today.
The summer of 2018 seems especially dreary in our Morris MN. The community goes limp and quiet in so many ways. Our library deserves top compliments for keeping a sense of activity. If you get the weekly "Friday Facts" email, you'll notice that events at our library, mostly for kids, dominate. Kudos to our library director Anne Barber. Anne has helped facilitate a weekly "movie club," meeting on Thursday nights. Also involved in this are Kyle and Charisse, whose last names I don't know and I'm not sure I'm spelling Charisse correctly. "Kyle" seems like a safe bet. Both are associated with UMM. Kyle is a teacher and Charisse has a different role, or so I've been told. I need to get more familiar with both.
I have an instinctive defensiveness around college teachers, in other words the UMMers in our midst. I'm concerned they can be judgmental, like they're always ready to indict the ignorant masses. Frankly I don't think the problem is as bad as in the '70s when I attended a state college. We were always told we didn't have enough empathy or understanding of the "inner city" people. I think some people were watching a few too many Norman Lear sitcoms. That new wave of sitcoms like "Good Times" (about times that weren't all that good) was just economically motivated - surprise! The movers and shakers in TV entertainment decided that the rural model for so much entertainment did not have the commercial potential of appealing to the growing urban element of our society. Goodbye to westerns, "Mayberry RFD" and "Petticoat Junction" (with "Uncle Joe").
Anne Barber told me yesterday that this week's library movie club has been canceled. It is because of a refrain which is quite associated with this community, a community about which Del Sarlette has always joked that we have an "apathy festival." I'm told we won't meet Thursday because certain people "will be gone." I'm told it's a struggle to even get the Hancock marching band kids to be available for their Fourth parade. So many people say they're "going to be gone." At least that's what they say unless it's just a pervasive feeling of apathy or laziness. Maybe there should be a billboard on the outskirts of Morris with the message "welcome to Morris, we're going to be gone."
 
Long ago but well remembered
These thoughts are prompted by my reflections on the marching band years at our high school. Seeing Scott Reese prompted memories of our halcyon days, you might call it. And, thinking of Scott's sister Mona unavoidably got me thinking about an unpleasant nugget of our history. Guys who had Bob Brimi for shop class often remark in a mixed way - charm and resentment - about the harsh punishment this big guy might mete out. I assure you it's legendary. But Brimi had nothing over band director John Woell on the night in question.
I had forgotten some of the details of that earthshaking incident. Upon mentioning it, I was surprised that Scott was 1) eager to talk about it, and 2) eager to share the fine details. This shows that episodes like this can leave scars. Here's what happened according to Morris lore: Us kids were supposed to be present at the school for an evening rehearsal, at a specific time, and the director stressed we be punctual lest there could be hell to pay. Well, the director himself turned out to be a half-hour late on that night, the way this was recalled for me. As we assembled for the practice, not outdoors but still in the band room, Woell was upset about how loud and rambunctious we were.
One could suggest we had become restless waiting for the tardy director. Upon being reprimanded by the director, some sentiment was vented regarding the behavior of the director. Mona spoke for all of us. It wouldn't have been a big deal had Woell not responded harshly. Keep in mind that Mona Lyn hardly had an incorrigible reputation. It was quite the opposite, although she definitely showed signs of thinking for herself. And remember, such independent thinking wasn't always approved by our elders back around 1970. Mona stated the obvious when she confronted Woell with a comment about how he himself should not have been late. She wasn't loud or emotional.
But Woell kicked her out of practice. Being in marching band instilled pride in those days in Morris, contradicting the apathy template of today, so if you got disciplined harshly or even got kicked out of practice, you'd want to come back the next day.
I remember when Woell seemed especially hard on a trombone player named Jay Stillwell, for reasons I could never understand. I think back to how I might have given some "lip" back to the director. Eventually Marilyn Strand did just that to the director. Those were the times when young people started feeling their oats in terms of being assertive, exemplified best with how we protested the Viet Nam war. But it manifested itself in many other ways too. It manifested itself on a micro level with how Mona spoke up that night.
 
Hey, just blow it off?
Woell should have shown humility and said "you know, that's a good point and I ought to set a better example."
Mona Lyn Reese today? My, she's a highly accomplished composer of music. She instills envy in me. I write songs but a lot of it is three-chord in nature. I'd argue there's nothing wrong with that - it in fact can be very artistic - if your lyrics are good. Lyrics are just a variation of poetry and can be more demanding, I'd argue, because you have to fit the words with a melodic cadence.
I could review Mona's accomplishments here but I encourage you to check out her Wikipedia page. She's an illustrious creator of music. Did she grow as a result of her little incident with band director Woell? You know what they say: "adversity builds character." Mona indeed is exemplary with her character.
I had my own incident with Gene Mechelke. Steve Poppe can tell you about that. I don't think the late Mechelke is worth the attention of a blog post.
Addendum: Marilyn Strand's rejoinder to the director was: "That's no way to teach!"
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

Trump's trade war to test our love for "cheap stuff"

Sen. Orrin Hatch airs hyperbole

Don't know if the term "conflict resolution" still has its boosters. Might have been buzzwords of the type that often pass through the ether, like "outcome based education." Isn't education always about outcomes? Surely we can assume that someone as crude and clumsy as Donald Trump has no sensitivity to "conflict resolution." He's a bull in the China shop. And we happen to have elected him president. He got elected for reasons that seem clear to me, the chief one being he has that gift for sheer oratory that characterizes demagogues. George Wallace displayed an effective, populist-infused brand of rhetoric.
Trump taps into our primal urge for conflict. He's doing it now with tariffs - incredible. The Republican free trade party is beside itself. Even Orrin Hatch, who made a comment a while back about Trump possibly being "the greatest president in U.S. history," is not endorsing protective tariffs. Hatch tried backing off his initial eye-opening comment by saying he was just talking about Trump's potential. We all knew the Utah senator was kowtowing to Trump's base. Hatch now says he's against Trump's tariffs on China and allies like Canada and Mexico. So he actually backs legislation to curb Trump's trade authority.
Trade is a complex matter. Are we Americans willing to live with globalization as long as it allows us to buy "cheap stuff?" So much stuff is made in China. Stuff gets assembled by people there who are paid scraps. Let's not deny what cheap stuff affords us: it affords us satisfaction that belies our real lot in life. This is probably nothing to shake a stick at. The common people can project an air of being reasonably well off. This is despite their own wages being stagnant. "Shopping" becomes a satisfying elixir of sorts.
 
The change in buying clothes
Personally, I considered it a miracle when I discovered how cheaply one could buy clothes, using the Wal-Mart model with no pesky clerks walking up to you and saying "can I help you?" As a kid I had fear of buying clothes, partly because of social anxiety for dealing with those clerks. Who wanted a clerk staring at you as you considered what kind of underwear to buy? The clerks "hovered" like this because, well, they were paid to be there and had nothing better to do at the moment. The store owners should have been more attentive to customers' needs and instructed employees to back off, to give customers their space.
A few years ago I heard the following advice to clothing store operators on TV: "Clerks should be available but not intrusive."
Prices seemed high for clothing when I was a kid. I was scared of buying something and then getting home and realizing it just wasn't perfect. As years passed and I discovered the cheaper model, I became less afraid of buying clothing that didn't quite work out. I stopped using the fitting rooms. I'd buy clothing with sizes and styles that seemed proper and if I got home and discovered it wasn't quite up to snuff, I'd simply be willing to eat the cost, to maybe donate the item or just set it aside. It wasn't in my nature to return items to the store. If I batted close to a thousand, that was good enough.
I ended up with enough clothes to last the rest of my life. Because of my frustration and anxieties with trying to buy clothes when younger, I ended up "binge-shopping" clothes to a degree, once I discovered the cheaper, less stressful model.
Oh, and it also helped greatly when loose-fitting clothes became more accepted. First I saw "relaxed fit" pants in stores and later there was "loose fit." If you really wanted the older-fitting style, with a crotch so tight it might threaten your potential to procreate, it was called "classic fit."
Remember the vast clothing stores at the Alexandria shopping mall in its prime? Herberger's and Penney's? Man, they're gone with the wind now. Here in Morris we had the typical men's and women's clothing shops on main street. We had Palmer's and Wayne's for the men. Today you go into Town and Country where the store clerks either don't annoy you or they'll just make a quick, token check on you and then walk away. "Finding everything OK?" they might say. Yes, available but not intrusive.
Wal-Mart is clogged with Chinese goods. We shop in bulk at Costco. Low prices have an obviously soothing effect, compensating for the sense of alarm we maybe ought to feel about our economy. A big threat looms over this model now, and it's the Trump tariffs. Yes, you might argue that the unfettered globalization model is deceptive or presents an illusion. An illusion of prosperity? Well, I guess there is no perfect system.
 
Many hold Trump's hand
Trump has a stable base of support no matter what he does, no matter how much his personal standards of behavior and rhetoric seem to make him rather a scumbag. It is not normal human behavior to simply lie so much. Most of us have a trigger in our senses blocking this, and we would take no satisfaction if we were to benefit from lies or deceit. We have elected someone who is not like us.
We should be scared of the way Trump's approval/disapproval numbers are so static in spite of things like the Helsinki summit. Or, the looming tariff-induced disaster, part of which is the proposed obscene government subsidy to farmers, who frankly would like to stay in the free market system.
Maybe there should be a poll asking the question: Would you favor Donald Trump becoming dictator of the U.S.? Perhaps we could pose this question: Would you favor Vladimir Putin becoming dictator of the U.S.? Based on recent perceptions of Americans' thought patterns, I frankly don't see either of these questions being absurd anymore.
I think perhaps Leon Panetta was right when he said America is in decline as a nation, "that we have lost the ability to govern ourselves."
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

"The Phantom Tollbooth" (1970) wows at our library

Our Morris Public Library shows movies in its community meeting room these days. Kids are especially invited to the Friday afternoon feature which begins at 1:30 or 2. Little sacks of popcorn are available. It isn't unheard of for an adult to be there! This past Friday, I attended the showing of "The Phantom Tollbooth" which I had watched before on cable TV.
The name of Butch Patrick might have drawn some people to the movie back when it was current. It was current in 1970. Butch Patrick played "Eddie Munster" in the sitcom "The Munsters," a humorous takeoff on the horror movie genre. Fred Gwynne played the dad, remember?
You should know that our library has a new "movie club" that gets together Thursday evenings. We see a movie that has some significance and then we engage in a little discussion. This past Thursday we watched a movie from the "pre-code" era of Hollywood. Moviemakers could get by with messages and themes that contradicted a basic sense of morality. The final dramatic line of the movie we watched Thursday was, "I steal!" The movie had a couple of suggestive scenes, sexually, proving to all that people did indeed have sexual impulses in those days! I had a psych professor in college who said "each generation is the first to discover sex (in their own minds)." We are probably a more enlightened society today.

Inspired by a children's book
"The Phantom Tollbooth" was originally a children's book of note. Children's books! Don't we all get the feeling we could write a children's book? I suppose it's like the feeling that one could easily write a country music song. Of course, these forms of art are more difficult to master than you think. A guy like Hal David wrote song lyrics that you'd swear were elementary. Just try to find success doing that, yourself.
The book "The Phantom Tollbooth" was written by Norton Juster. It is a 1961 children's fantasy adventure. Illustrations were by Jules Feiffer. The 1970 movie is mostly animated. We don't see Butch Patrick on the screen much but he fills his role fine. I find the animation very pleasing compared to the incredibly intense animation of today's releases like "The Incredibles" movies. I suppose I have a generational objection to today's approach. Our library showed an "Incredibles" movie a few weeks ago. At the end, I'm not sure I could have even told you what the basic plot was. The elaborateness of the animation just hit me over the head the whole way. I grew up with the minimalist animation of Hanna-Barbara cartoons like Yogi Bear and Quick Draw McGraw! To this day I find boundless charm in those cartoons. The story line is always obvious.
There was even a Yogi Bear movie! I suppose the bear's name was a takeoff on baseball player Yogi Berra. The baseball guy projected mystique that went beyond his ability as a player. We learn that his mangling of the language was not nearly so bad in real life, as in the pop culture representations. It probably started out as one or two minor instances, whereupon a savvy media guy like Joe Garagiola (a former player himself) saw potential to mine for humor. Berra would eventually say, with irony: "I didn't say half the things I said." He did a Geico TV commercial late in life that was based on the caricature.
Norton Juster did not like the 1970 movie based on his book. It might have been plain vanity, as maybe he just wasn't enthused about someone else interpreting his story. The quotes I found about this did not state any specific objections. I found it curious that Juster didn't even like how the movie got good reviews! I totally like the movie especially when viewed in the context of the times. However, if a new movie were to be made, I feel a substantial adjustment would be required. The adjustment would be a no-brainer based on our changed culture.
The Butch Patrick character, "Milo," was a quintessential boomer who seemed restless and unhappy even though the kids of that time were materially blessed, with full indulgence in fact. It has been argued that the indulgence itself was a factor. "Milo" is bored. It's a primary theme of the movie. He enters a fantasy world that stimulates him away from his underwhelmed state of mind. The story reminds very much of "The Wizard of Oz." I would say "The Wizard" was more popular because we understand more clearly what the central character, "Dorothy," was looking for. She wanted to go home.

Maybe not sympathetic

The book's cover illustration

"Milo" may want to escape boredom but it is harder feeling sorry for him, because we initially see him in his San Francisco home environment where arguably he has nothing to complain about. He's bored in school. Boomers like me have more than our share of gloomy memories of school. I suspect that today, school life has been adjusted to be more clearly rewarding for kids, even fun much of the time. I don't think kids "conjugate verbs" anymore in French class. Kids could take years of French and not be able to "speak French." Today we realize "immersion" is the best approach. Turns out I was right in being unmotivated in French class at MHS. I'd go home in a despondent frame of mind just like "Milo."
A sea change occurred with entry into the digital age. These changes happen slowly so we might forget how the old days really were, how profoundly different our "analog times" were. Today the distractions posed by all the electronic communications create a world where boredom is eradicated, wiped out, extinct. Butch Patrick's "Milo" is a throwback. We feel for him because his 1970 world seemed unfulfilling for him, a tragedy considering how our standard of living had improved by leaps and bounds since the mid-20th Century. The parents of my generation felt thankful just getting their basic needs met.
People went into hand-wringing over how my generation seemed restless and dissatisfied. But if that was our frame of mind, it was for a reason. Human beings can be restless souls by nature. However, boredom is not a problem of today. The problem is exactly the opposite! My goodness, "distraction" is the problem. "Data overload" is a concern. The distractions consume us so much, we can endanger ourselves and others when driving a car. Law enforcement knows this, which is why there has been such a clamp-down with seat belt enforcement.
If "The Phantom Tollbooth" were to be re-made today, maybe the theme would be a desire to escape such a cluttered world, in which we are so bombarded with data and thoughts, many of which aren't worthy of attention anyway. I think a re-make would be a good idea. Maybe the story can still get as high-profile as "The Wizard of Oz." It's fascinating to think of two cities or encampments, one devoted to numbers and the other to letters. Which is more important? Such is the dichotomy that "The Phantom Tollbooth" gives us, part of a fantastical array of scenes/characters right out of a dream world.
The 1970 movie was produced by Chuck Jones at MGM Animation/Visual Arts. Among the voice talents is the unforgettable Mel Blanc. Jones also directed the film.
"Milo" lives in a San Francisco apartment block. There is a sudden arrival of a large, gift-wrapped package. The "tollbooth" inside is really a gateway to a magical parallel universe. The boy proceeds in a toy car to the enchanted Kingdom of Wisdom in The Lands Beyond. The words/numbers thing is represented by the cities of Dictionopolis (words) and Digitopolis (math/numbers). I liked the canine companion who befriended Milo, named "Tock." We see "Short Shrift" the eccentric police officer. I have compared the movie to "Wizard of Oz" but I'll also suggest "The Polar Express" as a quite parallel story!

What was Milo really seeking?
Good reviews, yes, but the 1970 movie was not a box office success. I suggest that we needed to understand Milo's yearnings a little more. Frankly, it's hard to feel sorry for a kid who in the opening seems to be surrounded by quite satisfactory material blessings. But my boomer generation was indeed thrashing around looking for something that frankly seemed elusive. A commenter on the Manson family tragedy/phenomenon suggested that "there were things (my generation) wasn't getting from their parents." A curious observation and one that is difficult to support on empirical grounds, yes. But that comment has stayed in my head. Material blessings just didn't translate to happiness for my peers and I.
There was a mass entertainment culture, TV and all its homogeneous-appeal shows - "Gilligan's Island" - that on a subconscious level, may have left us feeling empty. We watched "Bonanza" but what did we really get out of it? Hey, we were subconsciously hoping that we might be lifted into a fantasy world like a magical parallel universe! Was Juster thinking that this universe would offer more than our real world? What a profound conclusion, if the answer is "yes."
I feel sad that author Juster didn't like the movie at all. I heard one of the kids say at our library, when the movie concluded, that she liked the movie very much. I congratulate our library director Anne Barber on choosing "The Phantom Tollbooth" as a summer movie offering. And it wasn't just for the kids!
Please consider attending one of the Thursday evening "movie club" movies, 6:30 p.m. starting time. We have fun. Some of us even bring our own lawn chairs to put up in the room! Treat yourself.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

Some marching bands out here, but not Morris Area

We cannot forget: Scott Groth, our drum major around 1970

Someone begged to differ when I recently suggested that high school marching bands have a much reduced role compared to the past. I stick with my overall generalization. Generalizations have exceptions of course. Someone posted a comment that "well, WCA (West Central Area) has a marching band this year. Underwood has had one for a few years, and of course Hancock has always had one for the Fourth parade."
Well. . . Let's give credit where credit is due, because certainly marching band is a healthy outlet for young people. You will always find some people in the academia side of music who feel marching band is a tedious exercise that doesn't bring any real musical enrichment. If musical enrichment is your total yardstick, there is probably merit in that argument. Such music academicians would say the same thing about pep band.
I am old enough to remember UMM had a pep band for sports. This was at the old P.E. Annex, fading into the recesses of our collective memory. The Annex was like the venue we saw in the "Absent Minded Professor" movie w/ Fred MacMurray. I'm biased as I share reflections on UMM's pep band days. My later father directed it. He wrote the original UMM "fight song." Regardless of what you think of that tune, I will say this: If you were to hear a band do this, with its heart in it, and to see the fans likewise with their heart in enjoying it, it was impressive.

Adjusting to demands
We advanced into a new phase where girls and women got equal opportunities in sports - it is hard (and rather painful) to recall the days when such opportunities weren't there. The increased opportunities meant more games on the calendar. The women wanted as much attention from the band as the men got, totally logical. But this presented the obvious logistical problem for the musicians: they would get overcommitted.
As a result, UMM had no pep band any more. They began playing a recording of the U of M Rouser from the main campus, excuse me "Twin Cities campus." You should know there was a time, back when small towns all over Minnesota had their own high schools, sports teams and mascots, when the Minnesota Rouser was the default choice as "school song" in many places. It got so bad that I remember once when us kids were present for a tournament game, we laughed as yet another small town pep band broke into the Minnesota Rouser.

John Woell leads his charges in parade, early '70s

I don't recall UMM ever having a marching band. My father did a lot when he started at UMM, even doing things that weren't technically in his contract - don't tell the union - but this didn't include marching band. My father was UMM's only music faculty in the school's first year. I sense that the administration was giddy about attracting someone with his credentials to come out here to this, frankly, desolate and detached place (at its inception to be sure). It would be many years before UMM would even get its own student center - can you believe? I find that astonishing.
Nevertheless, waves of students came through the place and would rave about it. But, no pep band at sports events. No marching band.

Morris Area should set pace?
How should I react to my recent critic who suggested that marching band is more alive out here than what I suggested? Well, I would point out that I consider Morris Area High School as a prime barometer for judging how school activities are going. We are a relatively large school out here. Aren't we larger than West Central Area, Underwood and Hancock? But MAHS has no marching band. It put forth a token group with drums-only for a time, but I'm not sure this has continued.
Are there any excuses for why MAHS doesn't offer marching band? You could argue that our school could put together such a group for a one-time event, like Hancock does for their Fourth. Couldn't our school do this for Prairie Pioneer Days or maybe the Homecoming parade? If the kids aren't used to playing while marching - a skill that needs some practice - then don't do it. I have seen the Hancock band when Ken Grunig was director there, simply stop along the parade route, long enough to play their tune. Then they'd resume marching. That solves everything.
I have lived in Morris most of my life so I know the kind of rebuttal I'd get if I suggested that MAHS field a marching band. We have been jokingly referenced as an "apathy capital." Del Sarlette has long suggested we have an "apathy festival" in Morris, but he says the problem is "no one shows up for the planning meeting." Rimshot.
So, the director would probably say she wouldn't be able to get enough kids interested. She would have to be paid for the additional commitment, I'm sure. I don't know how WCA and Underwood deal with this. There apparently are some communities where they just have the wherewithal to make it happen. That's the attitude I'm inclined to take but then again, I have always been sort of an outlier in Morris. I have suggested we try to re-start the boys tennis program.

Schaefer, Woell and a marching heyday
You should know of course that Morris has a significant historical chapter of having an ambitious marching band. I know because I was in it. Its peak according to legend was when Bob Schaefer was here. Schaefer moved on, I believe to Brookings SD. His personal life gained some notice here, as I recall, and that's as far as I care to wade into that. I played under Schaefer when I was in junior high. I remember him turning to the audience and saying, "Here's one that I'm sure you all know, Hava Nagila." This was at the old elementary auditorium, the art deco place now razed.
Schaefer gave way to John Woell. For whatever reasons, Woell was not as endearing as Schaefer in the public's eye. From an objective viewpoint, Woell seemed to keep standards just as high. But people weren't as inclined to sing his praises, not like with Schaefer.
We worked hard in marching band under Woell, and traveled far. We visited Winnipeg as an exciting endeavor, an endeavor that included concert band as well as marching band. I remember one of our musical hosts coming to the podium and addressing us by wanting to know more about Morris. "Jerry Koosman!" bellowed out Scott Groth. Groth played saxophone but is best remembered as drum major. He was a big guy and somewhat of a character. We recall him lovingly as a student.
I probably got some advantages in marching band because of the family I came from. I wouldn't even rule out my father pulling some strings in that way. I can't criticize my father for anything, but frankly I wish I had never gotten advantages in anything.

We can live with a little sinning
I remember during our Winnipeg trip, there was a trombone player who was from a church that prohibited watching television. This young man was glued to the TV set in his hotel room, watching as much TV as he could possibly get. So much for TV being immoral or whatever. I wonder what attitude that church took about personal computers. It's a church with members known for being very aggressive seeking business success. Can you imagine trying to be successful in business today without computers? Expedience is handy sometimes.
Should Morris have a marching band today? The suggestion would bring a torrent of excuses that are common for Morris, generally tied to apathy or consistent with apathy: "The kids aren't interested." "The kids are gone with their family to the lake, kids have jobs." I heard the "jobs" excuse for football pep band once. I think the occasion was Labor Day weekend. I joked with Jerry Witt: "Does the whole band work at Willie's?"
Well, I suspect that good ol' Willie's is trimming its workforce these days, following the example of all of business where profits must be maximized by any means necessary. Willie's will have to keep pushing the "self-checkout" which I refuse to learn. They'll have to keep pushing it because the corporate higher-ups will say so. That's how our society is organized now, until we get sick of it and use the political process to alter it. Just elect Democrats.
Don't forget the Irondale marching band coming here to practice and perform. This avant garde group will perform for the public on July 26 which (unfortunately) is the same night as Horticulture Night. The Hort. Night people will certainly be able to hear the musicians who will be at Big Cat Stadium.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

"Second verse, same as the first," indeed (1965)

The cost of a first class postage stamp was five cents in 1965. Speaking of five cents, that would get you the small size cone here at our Morris Dairy Queen, located then along East 7th Street. For a dime you got the larger size. East 7th Street was a rather vibrant artery. It went right past the public school complex which then included East Elementary and the high school.
The boomers were about to put considerable pressure on school space. I was part of the apex of that incredible human wave. Within a few years we had "split shifts" at the public school. And yet our community was slow to respond, as we got dragged through referendums that were like pulling teeth to get passed. I was in elementary school in 1965. Schools attracted many gifted and intelligent females to teach in those days. As women became more liberated in subsequent years, breaking through a glass ceiling, they had more options. It was good news for women but maybe not so good for elementary school education.
I had Pearl Hanse for the fifth grade. I remember how much she enjoyed singing "Shenandoah."
There was a time when East 7th Street was the main entry to Morris from the east. That's how the Dairy Queen got situated there. I remember being behind Don Goracke one evening when he ordered a whole bunch of malted milks for his family, perhaps eight? I exaggerate not. And if the Dairy Queen didn't please your palate, well, the "Pylin" drive-in was along that street too. The Pylin - let's all "pile in" - was right out of "American Graffiti." The old school and the playground to the east were the focal point of the community.
 
Sobering elements too
On a macro level, the year 1965 was most disturbing because of Vietnam. Our first combat troops arrived there in that year. By year's end, 190,000 U.S. soldiers were in that hellhole of a country for that time.
Dr. Martin Luther King was in ascent as a prominent national figure. Today he's lionized by all including the political right which would not have had much time for him in the mid-1960s. He and 2,600 others were arrested in Selma AL during demonstrations against voter registration rules. Surely there were events setting a dark tone. But as always, popular music provided escapism. I remember members of our UMM men's chorus singing the Herman's Hermits tune "I'm Henry VIII" on the bus. They sang it well because I can still remember it so well today. Remember: "Second verse, same as the first. . .?"
Sonny and Cher gave us "I Got You Babe" which is not pigeon-holed for the year 1965, because it got resurrected for the famous "Groundhog Day" movie with Bill Murray. Of course the Beatles held sway, giving us "Ticket to Ride" from the "Help!" album and movie. How can we forget "This Diamond Ring" which I believe was a favorite of Del Sarlette of Sarlette's Music in Morris.
Us kids discussed updates from our "World Events" posters in class. If you're an age peer of mine, you surely remember those, n'est-ce pas? That, and the "Chicken Fat" vinyl record. The less said about the latter, the better. But when it came to news, we began getting Vietnam seared into our consciousness whether we liked it or not. Actually we didn't like it. I would never be in position to worry about the draft. I pitied the poor souls who did have to worry. They went to Canada or Australia to try to avoid it. I blame none of them for whatever evasive actions they took, except maybe Donald Trump who had the rich person's advantage of finding a doctor who could come up with some sort of "reach" exception from the draft, i.e. "bone spurs."
Do I admire John McCain for what he went through in the war? Respect, yes, but I'm not sure admiration is apropos. He too would have won my admiration if he could have simply avoided it all. The U.S. waded into that conflict in the oddest way. Nothing good came of it. Lots of bad did come of it. So, music gave us some escapism.
 
A pennant for Minnesota
And let's consider sports. Oh my, 1965 was most significant in Minnesota sports annals. Our Minnesota Twins won the 1965 pennant! What could have brought greater ecstasy to Minnesota boys of that time? Sports had a strongly masculine association then. Our Twins won 102 games in '65. It was the year the Yankees got knocked off their perch. Harmon Killebrew hit a most dramatic home run just before the all-star break. We should have won it all that year. Problem is, we came up against Sandy Koufax in the World Series. Koufax beat us in Game 7 and we were deflated, never mind we had been through nirvana with the pennant. Sigh.

 
Enshrining year in song
I have written a song about our 1965 Twins. A couple stanzas even acknowledge the tragedy lurking in the background through all of that: the Vietnam war escalation. I felt I could not in good conscience write a totally joyful song based on the year 1965. It would not do justice. But the overall tone of my song celebrates our Minnesota Twins, managed by Sam Mele, a surrogate "father" for all Minnesota boys of my age.
My song has the title "Twins Win in '65." I may have the song recorded sometime in the next year. The song has a "strophic" melody, i.e. just one melodic idea, and employs a mere two chords, but I love it. The rhythm is hard-charging, so if I have it recorded, maybe I'd arrange for a live drummer. Sounds exciting. Here are the lyrics and thanks for reading. - B.W.

"Twins Win in '65"

by Brian Williams

  

Nineteen sixty-five

Cold War in its prime

Could man stay alive?

We all had to ask

I was just a kid

Not too scared of it

I just went and did

All my heart desired

All my heart desired

  

Baseball in the air

Twins were on a tear

Nothing could compare

To that pennant run

There in Bloomington

At Met Stadium

Fans had all that fun

April through October

April through October

  

We heard LBJ

Say we had to stay

In that hellish fray

With the Viet Cong

We just said hell no

We don't want to go

We'll search high and low

For a way to end it

For a way to end it

  

Baseball gave a key

To serenity

So much skill to see

On that glorious field

Twins looked oh so fine

In their northern clime

We just drew a line

The Yankees could not touch us

The Yankees could not touch us

  

Mudcat in the groove

Stardom there to prove

He just could not lose

When it counted most

Harmon hit them out

Never left a doubt

He was all about

Our title aspirations

Our title aspirations

  

Zoilo with his glove

Made us fall in love

He caused lots of buzz

With his stellar play

With his mastery

He was MVP

We could all agree

The shortstop had an engine

The shortstop had an engine

  

We saw "Kitty" pitch

Pop that catcher's mitt

He made batters miss

With his strength and guile

Pascual had it too

His right arm could rule

Quite the winning stew

For the fans to worship

For the fans to worship

  

All hail Tony O.

All-Star head to toe

Talent good as gold

Wearing No. 6

He hit frozen ropes

Building all our hopes

He pleased all us folks

Who cheered for Minnesota

Who cheered for Minnesota

  

War kept rolling on

Even though we sobbed

We felt we were robbed

Of our innocence

Still we cheered with spark

At our dear ballpark

Twins were in our hearts

And always they would stay there

And always they would stay there

  

ENDING:

Twins win in '65

Twins win in '65

(repeat)

Whither Fergus Falls' grand historic "Kirkbride?"

This would be a landmark in any community (images from Pinterest)

I feel for all local elected people who have to deal with the emotions around old buildings that have outlived their usefulness. We went through this in Morris with its old school, which sat there dormant and attracting bats for quite some time. In hindsight it should have been demolished sooner. Problem is, we get these starry-eyed dreamers out in the community, mostly older people who feel sentiments, and they try pulling every string to retain something old.
Didn't we have a "re-use committee" to try to extend the life of our old school? The re-use ideas tend to be out on the fringe in terms of their practicality. I smile as I remember one Morris resident suggesting the old hulk of a structure be turned into a "small business incubator." One imagines those little raptors cracking out of their eggs in "Jurassic Park." Cute, but look what happened.
Those poor elected folks must operate in the real world with real facts. I sense that a community controversy is building in Fergus Falls over the "Kirkbride." I attended the historical presentation there Friday night (7/6), a well-attended event overseen by the Otter Tail County Historical Society. I got a heads-up about this from Stephanie Gjere, Knute Nelson social worker and Fergus Falls resident. Thanks Stephanie. She sent me an email with an attachment that showed a newspaper article announcing the event.
 
Kids and their directness, and meanness?
I had never before seen the old state hospital in Fergus Falls. I was well familiar with it for a reason that is rather notorious: as a child I frolicked on the East Elementary playground in Morris, where the most standard teasing line, by far, was: "They're gonna send you to Fergus." The Fergus Falls facility dealt with mentally sick people, called "lunatics" in a less enlightened time. There was nothing enlightened about us kids out on the playground.
Fergus Falls appears to have a bigger issue with its Kirkbride than we had here in Morris with our old school. The architectural significance of the Kirkbride is much more far-reaching. Without a doubt it exudes grandeur when you view it from the outside. Just think of all the work that went into developing that place. Kudos were certainly in order for our society, for making sure the resources got provided for building and developing that place. It showed a gentle caring for a segment of our population that most people did not want to deal with.
Mr. Kirkbride himself presented a theme of how these handicapped people needed to be looked after "humanely." The goal was to try to make those people better and in some cases to even cure them. I gather that goal was mostly elusive for most patients/residents. The development of medications did more for those people than the original approaches. Shall we assume those people are in group home settings today? Nevertheless, the Kirkbride stands as a magnificent, visually overwhelming testament to the page our society turned in trying to care for those handicapped people.
Fergus Falls picked up a stigma reflected in the playground teasing, to be sure, although most people were smart enough to realize that Fergus Falls entailed a lot more than housing the "lunatics." It's just like St. Cloud State University has far more quality than suggested by the oft-circulated "party school" image. Alas, people gravitate toward stereotypes.
I'm very happy I attended the Friday event in Fergus Falls. I was somewhat surprised there was a charge of $6 for the tour, since it was a pretty informal tour of the outside only, and there was no announcement of the fee in the newspaper article. So, I thought that was a little untoward. I realized I could have easily sneaked into the group without paying but I would never do that.

Looks like an image from a fantastical movie

A very articulate guy named Chris handled the tour, using an effective mobile amplification system. It's really nice when sound systems work properly, eh? (Hint, hint to my church.)
As the tour closed, Chris introduced us to an older couple who were heads of the "Friends of the Kirkbride" group. It sounds like a group worthy of supporting. However, I find as I sift through recent news coverage, the preservationists are really just on one side of what could be a growing community controversy, and nobody likes these. It appears to be the flag-waving preservationists, tapping emotions in their arguments, versus the realists who have elected positions and must be responsible to the public. Here we go again. I even sensed that the Historical Society seems to have taken sides with the preservationists, and I'd consider that to be edgy.

Warts are seen up close
The Kirkbride is best appreciated by photos taken a block or two away. When you get close you notice the obvious aging and weathering, and I can just imagine how deteriorated and antiquated the interior space is. I guess local government doesn't allow tours inside anymore. I wonder if the building has bats. The pleas for re-use seem to be getting a little tired, IMHO.
There was an article in the Fergus Falls paper just on Friday about how an "eleventh hour" idea for preservation is being heard. If it's such a good or practical idea, why did we have to wait until the eleventh hour to hear about it? Oh my goodness, the new plea involves a "grant application." Pardon me for making a face about that.
The article reviewed a Monday Fergus Falls City Council meeting where an "unexpected conversation" about a "possible grant opportunity" developed. The discussion began through an open forum request. A spokesman said "a legacy grant had been identified through the Minnesota Historical Society which might be leveraged to bring educational and entrepreneurial developments to buildings on the former state hospital grounds." Sounds a little like bureaucratese, don't you think? Again I imagine those little raptors hatching out of eggs.
The speaker at the council meeting said there is no time to be lost in submitting the grant request - a deadline of July 13, sheesh. The speaker said that a formal statement of support was needed from the city council. The city administrator responded and said he had issues. I won't elaborate on this but you can surmise what's going on: a last-ditch Hail Mary by the sentimental folks and a response from those in position to have to do the responsible thing. It's kind of sad because such conflict can drive a wedge between various people in a community, people who would otherwise be agreeable with each other.

An inside view

The council was concerned that the grant application timeline was too tight and unreasonable. The grant advocate objected but was overruled, meaning that the council would delay further discussion until July 11, which would be right up to the wire of the deadline.
 
Stating my own assessment
I am far from being well-versed on all aspects of the Kirkbride's situation. I am relieved that I am not directly involved, or a Fergus Falls resident with well-known views on the subject. I was just a curiosity-seeker from Morris MN who had long heard about the state hospital and was fascinated to finally see it on Friday.
You want to know my take? Ahem, here it is: the "horseshoe"-shaped Kirkbride structure is nothing short of magnificent in its outward appearance. The Kirkbride is significant in what it represented in the development of care for the mentally disabled. But it was judged obsolete for these purposes some time ago. Society had moved on with new concepts for care of such folks.
Observe the Kirkbride up close and you see clearly it's dilapidated in many ways.
My suggestion is for a group of history enthusiasts to collect funds to produce a rich coffee table type of book that would be full of photos and stories about the Kirkbride. There are so many stories. Chris the tour guide just scratched the surface on Friday I'm sure. The book would serve as a precious time capsule for Fergus Falls, a community that is very much in the 21st Century. The Kirkbride is an anomaly. I simply think it's time for demolition.
I have written one previous blog post re. the Kirkbride, with lots of history in it, and I invite you to read that post with the link below. The post is on my alternate "I Love Morris" site. Thanks for reading. - B.W.
http://ilovemorris73.blogspot.com/2014/05/fergus-falls-has-quite-story-w-kirkbride.html

  

A family note re. Fergus Falls

Fergus Falls is a community very close to my heart. Through the last approximately four years of my mother's life, I took her there every three months for a routine health care appointment. Since I'm sure you're curious about what that health care issue was, I'll just tell you: Mom had a "pessary" (or vaginal implant) for dealing with organ prolapse, a common problem. She'd see her gynecologist at Lake Region Health Care periodically for the pessary to be cleaned and put back in.
Because these were not emergency trips, we enjoyed them very much, and all the people we got to know. I came to love Fergus Falls.
Prior to my Friday trip, I located the public swimming beach around Fergus Falls, on Pebble Lake, and I visited there with swim suit and lawn chair. A nice, relaxing place. I discovered Delagoon Park and the Central Lakes Trail, a big recreation-oriented area. All of this is just off Highway 59 as you enter Fergus Falls.
I would prefer going to Fergus Falls for our old reason, Mom's health, but Mom passed away in late April at the age of 93. She would have been 94 on June 8. We can try to deny that death will come but it's futile. I have had both parents die in their 90s in our home with me right by them, and I can assure you that death does come. Stephanie's Knute Nelson Hospice deals with that reality every day. Death is coming so let's just get the most we can out of each precious day of our lives.
I figure that the Kirkbride too is going to meet its end.
Oh, I also like Fergus Falls because it has a Burger King, something that Morris does not have! Fergus Falls has a lot.
- Brian Williams, morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

1987 Minnesota Twins had us going berserk

I remember interviewing Steve Van Slooten after the 1987 World Series. Van Slooten was associated with the Morris MN radio station. The occasion for the interview was his presence at the 1987 World Series.
The Metrodome had totally blossomed as the Minnesota sports mecca. How different was our world. The Internet and all its associated gadgets and distractions had not yet entered our lives.
I smile as I reflect on Van Slooten's comments, as he came across as so Minnesotan. He showed a Minnesotan's defensiveness. He talked about the weaknesses of our Twins team that might make observers skeptical of how we could win the championship. Such weaknesses were easy to cite. But could you imagine the people of New York City giving a rat's patootie over how one of their teams might not be "deserving?" Heck no, they'd bathe in unbridled pleasure over a championship. They'd expect the whole nation, and maybe world, to pay homage.
The East Coast with its powerful media presence would have an entitled feeling about the attention it received. For the Yankees to excel would be "just the way things were meant to be." But out here in the Midwest, the place called "Flyoverland" by the Eastern types, well, we had to fight to project our legitimacy. There was an element in the media that seemed condescending and not all that impressed about our success. There was a network broadcast guy - was it Jack Buck? - who intoned "homer dome" in a way that I'm sure was intended to be disparaging. The suggestion was that the home runs would be cheap here. But would any kind of dig like this be directed at a New York City sports venue, by the East Coast media?
 
Fenway Park: charming, or a mutant?
Could you imagine a ballpark like Boston's Fenway existing in Minnesota? What about the weird dimensions, the cheap doubles and the "Green Monster." We were taught to think the place was charming. You couldn't get away with a ballpark like that in Flyoverland.
The 1987 World Series went to seven games. That would usually make it a candidate for greatness. I'm not sure it has ever been embraced that way. We beat the Cardinals, another team far from the East Coast media concentration. When Roger Angell wrote a book reviewing seasons of the '60s, he titled his chapter about our 1965 Minnesota Twins "West of the Bronx." Ugh. That was the book in which Angell rather famously used "airy cyclotron" to describe our Metropolitan Stadium, Bloomington.
The Metrodome surely injected new life into our Twins. The owners are not dummies: they know when certain cities simply must get new venues. I attended a game during the 1987 stretch drive. I attended with high school friend and classmate Art Cruze. It was a classic day of success reflecting the euphoria of that season for Twins fans. The tall Mike Smithson, who seemed in a period of decline, was our starting pitcher that day, trying to coax one more decent performance from his arm. The P.A. announcer intoned "Mike Smithson!" in the opening as if he, too, was trying to coax that superior performance. We indeed won that day thanks to a dramatic late home run by Tom Brunansky.
Van Slooten had the pleasure of being there for the World Series. The homer hanky erupted as a symbol for our success. Emotions were brimming. That chapter of Minnesota history is receding into the past. Someday you'll be an "old-timer" if you reflect on watching that Series in person or on TV.
Oh, there were reasons for Minnesotans feeling defensive in a way articulated by Van Slooten. Such comments were in line with the famous book "How to Speak Minnesotan" by Howard Mohr. We know we are as smart as people in other parts of the country. But we know there's a general perception that we are a step or two behind in terms of our culture. The Yankees had a storied reputation before the Twins even came into existence. Well, so what? The practicality of plane travel meant that big league ball could span the nation. There was a time when the Pacific Coast League had talent commensurate with the true big leagues. Back then, "a trip west" in the majors meant going to St. Louis! Imagine that.
Well, times change and progress proceeds. A new norm set in, wherein the Twin Cities could be just as legitimate a base for big-time sports as anywhere else. And, "West of the Bronx" was hardly an acceptable way to describe it. Angell was a writer for the New Yorker. We were conscious in 1987 that we had to reach a little further to make a truly positive impression on the rest of the world. We felt it important not only to try to win the World Series, but to put on a good show, to show we were on par with the spectacles of the East Coast. The Yankees could play in a dull World Series, but our Twins would not be allowed to. The Yankees, still with Mickey Mantle, lost the 1963 World Series to the Dodgers in four games. Surely it was a yawner. But the '63 campaign gets filed away in baseball annals with the Yankees still exuding glory.
I was nine years old when the Yankees won their last pennant of that glory era for them. The Yankees' mystique was impressed on my brain. Could the Twins ever reach such status? And would a World Series championship ever be good enough to realize that? Fans all over like Van Slooten had that element of defensiveness wedged into their heads.

 
Credentials were somewhat suspect
Yes, there were reasons to be a little skeptical of the 1987 Twins. We were less than stellar when playing on the road. We were outscored in the regular season! Our pitching was less than overwhelming. St. Louis manager Whitey Herzog said it was a shame that Detroit didn't win the American League pennant.
We sure asserted ourselves early in the '87 Series, taking games 1 and 2 by scores of 10-1 and 8-4. Our fan base with the hankies was manic. Heh, heh. Kent Hrbek hit a grand slam in Game 6. There were parades in the Twin Cities after the Series, on a level that might be expected with the U.S. winning a world war (or with General MacArthur "coming home").
The same generation of players and fans had a redux in 1991, of course. The script for the '91 Series was even better than for 1987, if you can believe it. You can easily argue that the '91 World Series was up there with the greatest ever - perhaps it was the best ever. Ah, but the Flyoverland stigma was still there. If the '91 Series was indeed the best, movies should have been made about it, as would be the case if a New York City team was in it. But alas we weren't totally "hip" with our image yet. I think that because of the electronic communications of today, there are no isolated places anymore. No more reason to invoke "Flyoverland" at all.
 
A level playing field everywhere?
A young person might read my post today and wonder what I'm talking about: the references to defensiveness. Well, I'll have you know that everything I'm touching on is real. We worried about how the East Coast media would perceive us, the Roger Angell types. I think that old template is wiped away now, very thankfully.
Another thing has changed. Due to the infamous players strike of 1994 (or what they would call the "work stoppage" because the two sides in something like this can't agree on anything), many fans like me permanently lost their emotional attachment to the game. I have never been the same. So, never again would I join any berserk mob in celebrating the Twins' success. The extended nature of the 1994 strike and its bitterness forced me to adjust some of my habits. Maybe it's actually for the better. But I still have those golden memories of 1987 and 1991, and let's not forget 1965 too. It was pre-strike and pre-Internet.
We as human beings just plunge forward, continually adapting to our environment. Alas, I wax philosophical.
I can never resist trying to pen an alternate history about how we could have won the 1965 Series in Game 7. Bob Allison was the last batter. What if he had homered?
 
Personal tribute in music
I have written a song about the 1987 Twins season. It's simply called "Nineteen Eighty-seven." It has a slow and dreamy feeling, not suitable for percussion backing, just a lilting piano sound. Every third paragraph has a bridge melody. I like it. Will I have it recorded? Maybe someday. In the meantime, let's just remember.
 
"Nineteen Eighty-seven"
by Brian Williams
 
We reached up to the sky
In nineteen eighty-seven
Our Twins were flying high
They gave us seventh heaven
Their engines just kept revvin'
In nineteen eighty-seven
 
We hadn't been this far
since nineteen sixty-five
We wished upon a star
To keep that dream alive
We'd give the ball ride
Like in sixty-five
 
Our team made its debut
In nineteen sixty-one
It was a motley crew
That came from Washington
And gave us all that fun
In nineteen sixty-one
 
We took the Western crown

In nineteen sixty-nine
Nary was a frown
We played the game so fine
With Harmon in his prime
In nineteen sixty-nine
 
We did the best we could
With Billy Martin gone
We had to knock on wood
That life would just go on
Bats would still go long
Sing that winning song
 
The years meandered by
We still loved Killebrew
The decibels stayed high
We got the great Carew
And Lyman Bostock too
But his days were too few
 
In nineteen eighty-seven
Nintendo was in vogue
We walked like an Egyptian
And watched the Cosby Show
Our Twins were in their Dome
Feelin' right at home
 
With Teflon overhead
Our heroes took the field
The Cardinals were in red
They topped the other league
With Whitey in the lead
But could he make us bleed?
 
With Hrbek playing first
And Puckett out in center
Gaetti parked at third
And Laudner there at catcher
It couldn't get much better
Destiny unfettered
 
We sizzled at the start:
A 10-1 final score
We felt it in our heart
And knew there would be more
Success would be in store
Knocking down that door
 
We triumphed in Game 7
Such rapture on the field
Because of all those weapons
We finally sealed the deal
We were on top for real
We heard it from Carneal
 
In nineteen eighty-seven
 
 
© Copyright 2018 Brian R. Williams