Minnesota's Greatest Generation

Meet Art Seaman. He served in the Marine Corp during the war, and was stationed in Hawaii -- he and a high school buddy requested a recreation run up the mountain to Waihaiwa on Saturday nights where they had found the only (outdoor) ice rink in Hawaii. While half of the GIs on the bus swilled at the local bar, the rest of them donned ice skates and skated for a few hours, ending the evening with a few games of pick-up hockey. By the time the games began, the ice was melted and the surface held at least an inch of water. Needless to say, they were soaking wet by the time the games ended -- much to the amusement of the natives -- who would sooner watch than participate.

He came back to the states and at the final National races held during the 1947 St. Paul Winter Carnival, he qualified to compete at the 1948 Olympics in St. Moritz Switzerland. He traveled to Europe as a member of the U.S. speed skating team -- three of his seven teammates were from Minneapolis.

He dances three times a week at the local Moose Lodge and twice on the weekends at the VFW. He skates Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Blaine Ice Arena and on Sundays at Aldrich Arena. He is always on the move -- preferring to dance or to skate above all else. He is shown here at the dedication of the WWII Veteran's Memorial in St. Paul, Minnesota in early June.

Not being the sentimental type, he went to the dedication because it was the right thing to do. Because he's been a member of the VFW since he was 19. Loyal and true.

Semper Fidelis.

Happy Birthday, Mary Clare.

Now that you're 23, go ahead and wear big-girl lipstick. Smooches.

The Sailor and his Homecoming Queen

My father-in-law grew up in NE Minneapolis, one of five siblings in a first generation Norwegian Family. He was just a youngster during the depression and left home at 16 to work in the wilds of British Columbia. He spent a winter at Fort Nelson working for the Air Transport Command -- he was a gopher on the flights that ran gasoline and supplies up to Fort Norman, where the U.S. was drilling for oil. In order to let the pilots get some sleep, his job was to remain in the cockpit of a plane all night long, making sure the engine never quit. With temperatures reaching forty below zero, I imagine it would be difficult to stay warm, not to mention the challenge of staying awake. As he tells it, he "saw a lot of things a teenager shouldn't have to see. I grew up real fast". He was away from his family for over a year –- no iPhone or instant messages. Only letters from his mother. And they came few and far between.

He is shown above, enjoying a little rest and relaxation a few years later -- on leave in the Pacific at the end of World War II. He is the happy sailor on the far right. Have him show you his tattoo.



My mother-in-law grew up in North Minneapolis –– she attended North High School and played the French Horn in the Marching Band. She's shown here riding in the Homecoming Parade - yes, that's right, Homecoming Queen. The year: sometime during WWII.

She has mastered the perfect pastry - Swedish Kringle. At every family event at her home or away, she produces a plateful of the revered delicacy. And it is consumed within minutes. I don't know the secret of this puff pastry -- only that it is layered with almond filling and has a lightness to it that rivals any French croissant you'd find along the Seine. How a Norwegian girl acquired the Swedish recipe is beyond me, but we're thrilled she made the discovery.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They have been a steady force in our lives. Always ready to assist when needed, no questions asked. They would never think of imposing or assuming anything - they wait for the invitation before acting.

I love them for all they have given. For all that they are.