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Lost


Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Monday, January 21, 2002

My hands clutch the steering wheel and the cord of the CB radio. My knuckles must be as white as the snow that imprisons me in my car. The strong competent voice of my husband comes over the radio: "Nan, where are you?"

"I don't know. I must have taken a wrong turn." My husband can fix almost anything, but he can't help me now if I can't tell him where I am.

I knew the storm was coming when I left to get diesel gas for the tractor. I thought I would have enough time, but snow was already falling when I reached Canton. By the time I started home, all I could see was white. I found the turn from Highway 52 onto County Road 23, but since then, I've been driving aimlessly along slippery country roads where hills, valleys and curves have no definition. The clock on the car radio shows 5:45 p.m., but time has no meaning.

"Where are you now?" says the voice on the radio. Art installed the CB (before cell phones were common) when I was commuting 50 miles to Methodist Hospital in Rochester. Every night on my way home from the evening shift, I would call him at predetermined places. The last call was at the turn from 52 onto County Road 12, or the roller coaster road.

One winter night, when I reached the last checkpoint, I saw a man standing beside a car in the ditch. The law and ethics require nurses to assist anyone needing medical attention, so I stopped and let the man into my car. He insisted he wasn't hurt, so I offered to radio the sheriff for help. The man said, "No! Don't call the cops! Just let me off at the next house so I can make a phone call." I did as he asked and waited until I saw a light go on inside the house. Art thinks that I am too trusting, that I shouldn't have let the man into my car, or pawned him off onto other innocent people. He's right of course, but sometimes a person has to be trusting.

One night after work, just outside of Rochester on Highway 52, I had a flat tire. I was tired and still wearing my white uniform. It wasn't a good time to learn how to change a tire. So, I called for help on my CB. Soon, I heard a deep voice saying, "Hello, Darling. Let me park my rig and I'll be right there." The kindly trucker quickly changed my tire. When I tried to pay him he said, "Oh no, darling. You just drive safely. That'll be my pay."

One winter night, before I had the CB, I needed others to trust me. The storm began while I was at work. I could have spent th .....
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Squirrelly Southeastern Minnesota

Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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By John LevellMonday, February 4, 2002

While a select few see them as game to be hunted and eaten and some folks think they are cute and fun to observe, most Bluffland area residents view squirrels as just two or three sp ..... 
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Plan your Kitchen Garden Now

Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Virginia CooperMonday, Febraury 4, 2002

My favorite catalog for salad greens is 'The Cook's Garden.' They started as a family operation in 1983 with a single page of lettuces and exotic salad crops; now they are a very successful, nationally ..... 
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Hope for a man with a big head

Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Monday, February 11, 2002

I went to a seminar last week and tried to pay attention. Speaker after speaker talked about how they had to wear many hats in their jobs. This made me start thinking about hats. My mind wandered. I, too, wear many ha ..... 
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Two Journal writers have books in the works

Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Monday, Febraury 4, 2001

Two Journal contributors have been busily working on books that should be coming out in the next few months.

Nancy Overcott

Nancy Overcott, whose column At Home in the Woods appears regularly in the Jour ..... 
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Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
Posted in

Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
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Fri, Feb 8th, 2002
Posted in

To the Editor,

Our legislators have had a large surplus of our tax dollars for the past six years. The legislators (both Republican and Democrat) have been on a spending spree, which in the last ten years has doubled the states budget.
< ..... 
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