Yearly Archives: 2011

Twin Cities

Hail at the Como Park Conservatory

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19On June 23, 1962, golf ball-size hail rained down on the glass dome of Como Park’s Conservatory in St. Paul. Glass panels shattered sending shards falling on the visitors below who had sought shelter from the storm. By the end the Conservatory, built in 1915, looked like a war zone. The hail had damaged rare and valuable plants and the gardens were forced to close for the first time ever.

After the storm, gardeners tending the injured plants were forced to wear protective helmets as glass pieces continued to fall. $75,000 in emergency funding had to be secured and the glass panels were replaced with fiberglass. The Conservatory re-opened four months later.

By 1974 the constant sun and weather had clouded the fiberglass panels, depriving the plants below of sunlight. While the Conservatory was placed on the National Register of Historic Places that year, it was in desperate need of repair.

It wasn’t until 1987 that major renovations to the Conservatory began, including replacing all the glass. Those renovations weren’t finished until 1992, 30 years after that hailstorm riddled holes in one of St. Paul’s greatest attractions.

[You can learn more about the history of Como Park and the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory in the book The Jewel of Como.]

Twin Cities

Como Park’s East & West Gates

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Como Park East GateThe gates at the east and west entrances to St. Paul’s Como Park are real live examples of recycling and second chances.

East Gates
The east gates are located at East Como Blvd. and Gateway Dr., southeast of the lake. The gates were erected in 1933 using Kasota limestone reclaimed from the second Ramsey County Courthouse, which was built in 1895 and replaced in the 1930s by the current courthouse building. The reused stone included the courthouse’s cornerstone.

Edward Bassford designed the 1885 courthouse and his son, Charles Bassford, designed the gates. As city architect, Charles Bassford also designed the Como Zoological building.

Midway GateWest Gates
The west gates at Hamline Avenue and Midway originally came from the sprawling estate of wealthy businessman Oliver Crosby. He built a mansion, greenhouses and elaborate gardens—all known as Stonebridge—that overlooked the Mississippi River in St. Paul. After Crosby died in 1922 his will was contested and the estate eventually had to be sold off piece by piece.

In 1936, E. E. Englebert bought two lots of the former estate on Mississippi River Boulevard which included the original massive brick and ornamental iron entrance gate to the mansion. He donated the gate to Como Park and in 1937 the Works Progress Administration had it reinstalled as the west gate to Como Park at the intersection of Hamline Avenue and Midway.

Another survivor of Stonebridge also relocated to Como Park, the namesake of the Frog Pond, the sculpture of a granite bullfrog.

Horton & Hamline Gate
There’s another potential gate to Como Park, a lone stone pillar standing at the corner of Horton and Hamline Avenues. Unfortunately, I haven’t come across anything about the history or origins of this pillar.

Twin Cities

Gates Ajar at Como Park

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Gates AjarI love Como Park. That’s why I tried to write a novel about it. One of it’s most captivating qualities is its sense of history. One of the park’s earliest features, the floral sculpture Gates Ajar, goes back to 1894 and is still around today.

At the time it was a new form of display heavy on flowers and bordering on kitsch.  The gated stairway was sculpted from wood and wire frames, covered in carpet bedding and then packed with moss and mud. Flowers were then planted, resulting in eye-popping blooms of intricate designs. The actual iron gates were added during the 1930s. Como Park’s Gardener Blog has details and pictures showing how the Gates Ajar are planted today.

Originally located 150 feet east of the Schiller Monument, today the Gates Ajar can be found off Lexington Avenue to the west of the Lakeside Pavilion. The gates were also temporarily located near the Conservatory for a brief period. In 1951 the gates were rebuilt to four times their original size and moved to the current location.

Historic photo of Gates AjarGates Ajar was the first floral sculpture experiment from park superintendent Frederick Nussbaumer. Those floral sculptures continued in 1895 with a life-size elephant perched on an island in the former Cozy Lake (drained in the 1920s and site of the current golf course), a floral fort complete with cannons and an eagle in 1896 and a standard globe sometime later.

But the Gates Ajar outlasted them all and is one of the earliest features of Como Park that still exists today. The Minnesota Historical Society has a few pictures of Gates Ajar from over the years. Refurbished in 2007, the Gates Ajar continue to be a popular location for pictures.

Family

Remembering My Grandpa

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Last night Yeshumnesh asked if I cried when my grandpa died. Actually, she asked if I would cry if Milo kept eating and eating until his stomach exploded and then he died. I tend to ignore those bizarre ‘what if’ scenarios and then she asked more seriously if I cried whey my grandpa died.

I didn’t cry.

He died in 2002 and I tried to explain that it was his time. I was sad to see him go, but he was barely hanging on. He’d grown so frail and skinny at the end. Medical complications were getting ridiculous and while I don’t remember it all, I think amputation had been discussed. That’s not something an 80-year-old man needs to go through. His death wasn’t unexpected, it was a mercy.

Then I showed Yeshumnesh some pictures.

This is how I remember my grandpa. That and the fact that he called me ‘turd.’ If I had more time I would have explained to Yeshumnesh what I wrote for my grandpa’s funeral. I don’t think I’ve ever written anything else that so perfectly captures a person. That was Grandpa, making people laugh.

While talking about him I realized none of my kids ever met him and even Abby barely got to know him. By the time she was in the picture my grandpa was already frail in body and mind. They all would have loved laughing in his kitchen. And that’s actually one of my greatest treasures—standing around in my grandpa’s kitchen with my brother and cousins and Abby, telling stories and laughing so hard.

A line I wrote nine years ago sums it up: He grew too old before I grew up, and I miss him.

This picture captures him so perfectly, I can almost smell the Old Spice.

Classic Les

Adoption

A Sunday in Ethiopia

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Meeting Milo's Nanny
Meeting Milo's nanny.

I wrote a piece for The High Calling about adoption. Specifically I wrote about the day we met our son’s family in Southern Ethiopia and the roller coaster of emotions that day held.

We woke up early on our third day in Ethiopia. Today was the day we would meet our son’s family.

In March of 2009 my wife and I traveled to Ethiopia to adopt our son. We looked into his eyes for the first time on Friday. We spent Saturday morning holding his tiny body in our arms as he slept. On Sunday we wouldn’t see him at all, but we would meet his birth family.

We crowded into a van and drove three and a half hours to the Hosanna region in Southern Ethiopia. We were told to expect a harrowing journey—bumpy roads, no seat belts, crazy drivers. This trip is the reason we purchased emergency medical evacuation insurance. But the newly paved road was smooth and offered beautiful glimpses of life in rural Ethiopia. We saw cows and goats crowding the road. We stopped to tour a traditional thatched roof hut. I saw women gathered around a muddy stream with yellow jerry cans, collecting their daily water.

Read the full story.

If you want more on our adoption experience, you can always check out my book Addition by Adoption: Kids, Causes & 140 Characters.

Books

Open Our Eyes: Sales Report

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Open Our Eyes: Seeing the Invisible People of HomelessnessThis fall I released the book Open Our Eyes: Seeing the Invisible People of Homelessness. The little book tells the stories of homeless people—families, kids, grandparents—and supports the work of homeless advocate Mark Horvath and his site, InvisiblePeople.tv.

All profit from the book goes to Mark. All of it. Here’s a quick report on book sales so we can be an open book:

  • October sales: 2 copies, $7.68 profit (we didn’t launch until November, so you folks were ahead of the curve)
  • November sales: 57 copies, $218.88
  • December sales: 30 copies, $77.59

These are only numbers for print copies and we earn roughly $3.84 per copy from Amazon sales (the numbers don’t add up because sales through other channels have a lower royalty rate).

Ironically, payments for digital versions come later, and I received the first one today:

  • November sales: 30 copies, $99.20 profit.

So far I’ve sent Mark two payments. The first was for $226.56 at the end of the year (October & November physical sales) and the second was for $176.79 that I sent this morning (December physical sales & November digital sales).

So to date Open Our Eyes has earned $403.35 to support InvisiblePeople.tv. We’ve also sold 119 copies, which puts us in the top 21% of books published. It’s not vast riches to solve all Mark’s problems, but it’s something. And hopefully it will grow.

Thanks for your support and thanks to everyone who made this book happen. I’d love to keep these payments going for a long time, so please buy a copy if you haven’t already and spread the word.

Society

Slavery Sucks

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Lately I’ve been doing writing for the blog of HalogenTV, a cable channel focused on social good. Tonight they’re doing a special slate of programming on human trafficking called Slavery Sucks. In the run up to tonight we’ve been doing a lot of human trafficking stories on the blog. Here’s a quick list:

It’s an overwhelming issue, but it’s one that demands justice. I’ve also been reading David Batstone’s Not For Sale: The Return of the Global Slave Trade—and How We Can Fight It, which is empowering as it is eye-opening.

Children, Education

Half Day Kindergarten

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Tour of My Childhood: Scotch SchoolI’m a work-at-home dad. With a 2-year-old and an almost 5-year-old. That means I don’t get much work done.

In the past few months I’ve gone from one child napping in the morning and both children napping in the afternoon to only one child napping in the afternoon.

Work happens during that lone naptime, in the evenings and when I’m otherwise neglecting my children. In other words, not much work happens. And I have no social life.

I’ve been holding out hope for kindergarten. The Tuesday after Labor Day couldn’t come soon enough.

Until I learned our district only offers half day kindergarten. All day kindergarten, it turns out, is not mandated by the state. So if you want it, in our district at least, you pay for it. To the tune of nearly $3,000.

I wanted to cry when I heard the news.

I love my kids and it’s pretty great that I get to stay home with them. But the whining, complaining, fighting and general disorder are not my cup of tea. Unlike some people, this is not my calling.

I’m trying to console myself with the fact that half day kindergarten is better for kids, that it’s a more gradual introduction to school, that all day kindergarten is mostly filler and babysitting, that naptime may even resume when kindergarten starts.

But I was really counting on that babysitting.

Now I’ve got my sights set on 2014.

(As much as I dislike the district’s policy, in a time of budget cuts, salary freezes and rejected levies, it’s a pretty smart fiscal policy.)

Daily Grind, Employment, Family, Friends

January Sucks: Admitting Failure & Struggle

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The other day I tweeted about how much January sucks:

I think this month is trying to crush me. And then kick me while I’m down. Not nice, January. Not nice.

I was sick for two weeks and it feels like I’ve spent the whole month coughing.

But the bigger issue is the struggle. I haven’t blogged much lately, in part because life seems like such a struggle lately. It’s hard. I feel like I’m flirting with failure and that’s not a popular topic to talk about. It’s not a topic that pulls me to the computer to craft a blog post.

But I think it’s time to fess up and move on.

Life is hard right now. Work has been slow for a while. Bills are stacking up and it’s depleting whatever safety net we had. I’m not saying this for pity. It’s just the way things are. It’s too easy to think everyone else is doing just fine and we’re the ones who are struggling, but I’m sure that’s not the case.

So between work and bills and daddy daycare and a preteen who doesn’t want to be here, it’s hard. I’m struggling.

I keep reminding myself that these are the times that show us what we’re made of. And what am I made of? Do I have what it takes to make it work? Or is this juggling act going to come crashing down? Some days I don’t know.

But we keep on.

My saving grace lately has been a client with a nearly unlimited capacity for low-paying freelance articles. Last week they offered me a section editor position and are putting me on retainer. It’s more work for less money, but it’s steady. It’s not the solution to all my problems (is there such a thing?), but it’s a nice step forward.

I’m also thankful for friends we can lean on. My color-coded Google calendar could trigger a migraine it’s so full. Lots of entries involve friends stepping in to watch kids or loan cars or give us some measure of sanity. We couldn’t do this alone.

I’m also thankful for a smart and strong wife. These are hard times and we need a lot of strength to get through. I’m proud that Abby has both good ideas and insights, but also the strength to buckle down and get through this. Especially since financial stress has to be about the worst kind of stress (otherwise you can throw money at the stress and that at least helps a little bit).

One of the books I’ve been reading lately (Not For Sale) reminds me that no matter how tough life gets, I have it easy. The book tells stories of children ripped from their homes, forced to murder and butcher their friends as they’re turned into child soldiers in Uganda. Or women enslaved in brothels in Southeast Asia and each glimmer of freedom turns out to be more of the same rejection and pain. My struggle would be their cakewalk.

I’m also thankful for babies. A few just born and a few still on the way, lighting up their parents’ lives like electricity. Can’t help but smile at that.

A little perspective always helps. And so we struggle on.

Movies

Revisiting Star Wars

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Over Christmas break my 4-year-old nephew was watching Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and I sat down to watch some of it (after all, Star Wars is a family affair). The next day Spike TV was showing the originals and I caught parts of Return of the Jedi.

“Who’s that guy?” Ari asked when Luke Skywalker strode onto the screen. My nephew had never seen the original trilogy, only the prequels. Sacrilege!

All of which transported me back to the wonderful world of Star Wars. The other day I borrowed Revenge of the Sith from the library since I don’t remember watching it since it came out in theaters. And as if watching Attack of the Clones again wasn’t bad enough, Revenge of the Sith was painful.

Apparently I enjoyed it despite its inconsistencies the first time around, but now the lack of a sensible plot and unbelievable character motivations was just too much. If you really want to revel in the Star Wars prequel bashing, check out the profanity-laden reviews by Harry Plinkett (I’m serious about profanity-laden. They’re beyond inappropriate in spots as well, so be warned).

In some ways it feels good to have someone else point out the inconsistencies and show me why the prequels always feel so flat. My biggest complaint has to be the over-use of digital effects. You’d think George Lucas would have learned his lesson with Jar Jar Binks, but oh no, he introduces General Grievous in Revenge of the Sith, a digital character with no weight whatsoever. Who is this guy? Why do we care? He’s like a lame version of Darth Vader, more machine than man, but the Emperor is still tinkering with proportions and this one is too much machine.

And it goes well beyond characters. Almost every scene in the prequels is on a green screen. Nothing is real. It all looks and feels fake. Sure, the matte paintings in the originals weren’t perfect either, but that’s why they were used sparingly. Lucas turns to digital backdrops in every scene of the prequels.

For a current comparison I think the digital effects of Transformers are just as fake, but the backgrounds and action are real. When a Decepticon slices a city bus in half, Michael Bay cut a real bus in  half, so at least the destruction looks real even if the alien robot doesn’t. In the prequels we don’t get so much as a model, we get digital everything. Lame.

I could go on and on but three paragraphs is already too much. I still love the original Star Wars movies, but I think the prequels will forever stand as an example of the downfall of excess.

But let’s end on a positive note. Perhaps my favorite writing about Star Wars is this piece that explains the inconsistencies by imagining R2-D2 and Chewbacca as integral leaders in the rebellion. That’s awesome.