Ode to “The Falls”

This is for all that were told they were appreciated; and all who we didn’t remind this week; or not enough. This is for all the parents and grandparents who bundled up, watching their children and grandchildren with sticks and skates play on a frozen outdoor rink or in the cooled arena instead of hearing about it “on The Falls Telegraph” the following morning, so that when the kids asked, “Did you see my goal?” or “Did you see my save?”, they could reply, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” and mean it.

This is for all the hardworking parents who walked through the front doors of the mill this morning, dedicated teachers who stood before a classroom after recess, who tied Houseboats to docks in the afternoon, and who suited up to meet drivers on the bridge from customs widows this evening. For all who put in endless hours at hotel front desks or offices lining Main Street and then putting in more so that your children may see more opportunities tomorrow than we may see today. For all those who stay at home with children, cooking up a storm and defining the true backbone of a Home; and relaxing to the nightly news, or maybe the Twins, the Vikings, or Wild games and then set the alarm clock to KSDM for the hour that the sun rises over Black Bay and Ranier to meet Lake Country once again.

This is for all the lifesavers and caregivers that walk the halls of Falls Memorial Hospital, serving as beacons of hope for many, as a smile and a laugh of comfort for children, and as an oasis of kind words and conversation to the elderly. For all those who walk those hallways, in white coats and scrubs, who perhaps aren’t told enough just how much they are appreciated. This is for you.

This is for all the elder generations of our families, those that keep us tied proudly to our heritages; be it Finnish, Anishinaabe or maybe Russian, Swedish, Italian, Norweigan, among many more who have taken root and raised strong families in The Falls. For those whose wisdom, stories, and lessons can move mountains and change the course of currents when we give a moment to listen. To those who understand that a heritage is more than paging through a family tree; that it’s a way of life, a style of humor, a bond of a family, a culture and work ethic, and of course I understand them as Horton and Kingbird family recipes of Rez-style Frybread, as Grandma Judy Rosten’s famous Finnish pancakes, and flying the Blue and White flag from the Hilfer lakehome out on Jackfish Bay where Fred Rosten’s Finnish Cabin still stands.

This is for everyone who understands just how incredible Border Bar Pizza is and those, like the author of this written piece, who have found themselves in Minneapolis, New York, Toronto, Ottawa, Chicago, West to East, North to South, anywhere; saying to their company, “This ‘Zaa is decent, but it has nothing on Border Bar up North.”

For all the parents and co-workers who ran carpools to the workplace or back home, who can brighten anyone’s day with a passing smile, and those who do sincere favours, especially when they are not asked to as, “if one wasn’t from a small town, one might not understand this compassion.”

What is it about International Falls that puts the “Home” in Hometown? Is it scenery? The heart of the people and residents? How it truly takes living life in a way that “takes it all in” around one’s self to really understand “the good life”? Is it the greatest cooks of fresh walleye and soup?

The pride that you feel when a teenager stands up while they turn their graduation tassel above a cap and gown of purple and gold? I think so.

So this is for all the rail workers, spending time away from families, working hard, seeing one too many hotels during the week, with nothing but family back home in mind. This is for teaching us how to bait a hook, showing us the dip method to attract walleyes, and keeping us out until the sepia sunset reaches out across Rainy Lake and Jackfish Bay. And then saying “ok” when we asked if we could stay out on the dock “just 10 more minutes.” This is for all the residents who still show us younger people the definition of how to party and how to have a good time when you rock the karaoke microphone at the VFW or when you show us that in your late years of life, you can still have a taste in good music when you sing along to Buckcherry and Disturbed from the Nu-Jukebox at the Outpost — showing us “edgy college folk” how it’s done.

This is for everyone who feels the rush of pride when hundreds of young students cheer on the Broncos, come rain or shine, and knowing that the spirit of Bronko Nagurski is proudly watching from beside the stands; as future Nagurskis show their metal on the field. This is for all our elder generations, our grandparents and great-grandparents, who sometimes shake their heads at us young people when we dye our hair green, get facial piercings, blast metal or rap from our car stereo systems while cruising Main Street; but still invite us inside to catch up with us on life over fresh walleye, soup, or tea. This is for all our elders who attend the Pow-wows, at times with arthritis, but still lace up their regalia and dance. To our families who show the rest of Minnesota that fishing can be a 12-month affair; by boat or by icehouse, by dock or by shore, and sometimes in ways more inventive than MacGyver. This is for all who understand that Minnesota may be hockey country, but it’s the Falls sets the precedent.

This is for you all who understand the true meaning of community; the dedicated workers of the Salvation Army feeding families during the holidays, those prideful in knowing your neighbors, saying hello when you see them at Sha Sha Resort, holding family close to heart and embrace, and volunteering at the Bass Tournaments and festivals, but also for when you offered that young person a ride back to their home when it got a little chilly afterwards that night.

This is for all who try to explain to newcomers the song of the loon out on Rainy, the way the lake changes about ten minutes before it rains, what those unusual markers are on the water and what they mean, all about the awesomeness of local Rose Garden, and why a lake Sauna is great on a Saturday morning, but still couldn’t convey all their thoughts into words at the time. But give the visitors a week in Lake Country. They’ll understand.

This is for you all; who watch visitors come and go, but remain a smiling friend when they return. For those who took us young people to buy sparklers at Smokey Bear Park, to see the city fireworks by the mall as children, but also across to Fort Frances days before just because you knew we loved watching them - twice. Young residents, old elders, residents who we have learned to let go of; but still hold in our hearts. This is for working residents and stay-at-home residents. To those who would tell us, as children, that Big Vic and Smokey the Bear would come alive at night to play. Hunters, trappers, sportspeople, and those with keys to a cabin or a boat out on Rainy hanging by their front-door. This is for you. Fishermen and fisherwomen, teachers and educators, family and friends, mill workers and rail workers, volunteers and administrators, new parents and old parents, and generations that keep the heartbeat of International Falls alive; a heartbeat and pulse that only folks that call it their Hometown may truly, truly understand. But as the visitors return season after season, year after year; they sure must be catching on.

This is for you all. And this is for the heartbeat of a place that YOU keep beating; whether you know it or not. No matter where this life has taken me due to working in politics, activism, advocacy, or education; International Falls has served as my True North to where I’ve pointed my ship and compass.

And all of you, for these reasons, are my North Stars.

You all truly make our Hometown; a Home.

And Home is what catches us when we fall — and we all fall; sometimes.