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I remember when the Case building on NP (Northern Pacific) Avenue in Fargo looked the way it did in that photo. I'd better explain. I'm old, but I'm not that old. The F. O. E. (Fraternal Order of Eagles) parade on NP Avenue was in the summer of 1910. I wasn't born until the fall of 1951. Besides, the building I remember didn't look exactly like the one in the photo.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Another dad moment, this one involving a freight elevator. The Case building in Fargo. A globe-and-eagle logo that disappeared. Family and a few good ideas.)

One way or another, I've been part of a family all my life: as a child, as a husband and father, as a grandfather. The experience has never been perfect. But I think Pope Francis is right. We do, occasionally, have "tremendous joys". I also think the pope's March prayer intention is a good idea.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Families in crisis: prayer intention for March, from Pope Francis. A link to the Vatican News article, and an embedded video. Sounds like a good idea.)

A happy memory from our time on Buford Avenue in the early 1960s — I talked about that a couple weeks back 1 — is planting an acorn from one of the oaks there. An Acorn and Memories Among the many things I don't remember from that time is when we planted it. I suspect it was in the fall, since that's apparently a good season for starting an oak seedling. 2 And by spring; well, life was getting interesting, and that's another topic. Now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure we planted the acorn after we returned to Moorhead. Seasons Whatever season it was, I remember being happy when the acorn sprouted: and impressed at the size of the leaf. A full-size oak leaf on a tiny stem. My oak flourished in the back yard of 818. 3 Time passed.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Happy memories involving an acorn, two trees, three homes, and a library. Legacies and a few thoughts about trees, the Sixties, and all that.)

I Googled Sauk Centre history this week. I learned that the Minnesota Historical Society's website has back issues of our town's Sauk Centre Herald — and an impressive set of records connected with the Sauk Centre Home School for Girls, AKA Minnesota Correctional Facility-Sauk Centre. Focusing on conventional publications, government officials, and their institutions, has some merit. But so does remembering what happened when schoolkids found a skunk in a woodpile. A literal skunk in an actual woodpile.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Bringing explosives to school: cultural and historical context. Or: what happened when kids found a skunk in a woodpile.)

Saint Anthony Park public library looks about the way I remember it, back in the early 1960s: from this angle, at any rate. It was on the other side of a small 'downtown', between Carter and Doswell Avenues on Como. I visited that shopping area recently, using Google Street View. I'd hoped to spot the grocery my mother sent me to, but the library's the only thing that looked familiar: hardly surprising, after upwards of six decades.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Breaking a bottle of ketchup when I was 12 felt awful. But I learned about priorities, how families work, and how to be a parent.)

Number-three daughter asked me to see if I could get a pomegranate. This was a week or so back, in mid-January. There weren't any in the produce section. Or, rather, I didn't see any. So I asked when, or if, they'd be there. Turns out that I'll have to wait for the right season: early winter. I wasn't surprised. I'm impressed that we can get any out-of season fruit. And that so much of what's in the produce section won't grow here in the Upper Midwest. Being as old as I am, with a pretty good memory, helps. The pomegranates that weren't there brought to mind a cluster of memories involving a wooden crate, sincerely awful oranges, and a posthumous sense of gratitude. More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Remembering a wooden crate, sincerely awful oranges, and what my father had in mind. A posthumous expression of gratitude.)

One of the many things I liked about living in San Francisco was the city's public transportation system. I don't know about the situation now. But a half-century ago I could get up, eat breakfast, catch a cable car, connect with a bus and be at work on time. Getting back was another matter. By late afternoon, agreement between the bus route schedule and actual running time was at best approximate. I got in the habit of walking toward downtown until a bus came along, leaving the bus near the Embarcadero Center, and walking from there. After a cup of coffee.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Two boys and their sister, good advice, and an offhand observation: remembering an incident in a San Francisco BART station.)

First off, I don't know the dog's name. Ulysses was the name I had for him. He, or maybe she, was the sort of dog I think of as a hound-dog: medium size, long legs. Bear in mind that I don't know much about dog breeds. I didn't call him Ulysses for the way he looked, but for the way he acted. That brings me to what's still one of my favorite poems: Tennyson's "Ulysses".... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Remembering a disabled dog and a poem by Tennyson.)

As I said Saturday, getting to Mass is a big deal for me. I stayed in all day Sunday, and probably will do the same today. That's doubly frustrating, since Sunday morning Mass is one of the two times I get out each week, and I prefer doing my weekly errands Monday afternoon.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Getting to church matters, but I missed Sunday Mass. I talk about that; mothers, making sense, and two Bible readings.)

This week I started writing about a holiday visit from family up in North Dakota. By Friday afternoon I was looking at depression and a prayer: Good Times, Good Visit Mass in Minnesota: Freezing Fog and Celebrating Anyway Babies and Expectations Holiday Weirdness Meanwhile, at Our House Two Incidents After Mass Desolation, Dissatisfaction, Depression, and a Prayer ... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (A family visit, freezing fog for Christmas, celebrating anyway. A little holiday weirdness. Depression, a prayer, and St. Ignatius of Loyola: very briefly.)

(Moorhead State's gate, a few blocks from where I grew up. (October 2011)) My wife and I met while we were Computer Science students at MSU. I don't remember if MSU was Minnesota State University Moorhead by that time, or Moorhead State University. Either way, it was Moorhead State to me: the place where my dad worked, a block or so from my home. My wife earned a Computer Science degree, I nearly learned calculus a few times. The first time we talked was in the hallway near the Computer Science department's entrance: a square arch leading to another hallway. Someone — students, I figure — had put a banner of continuous-feed paper over the arch. It bore a motto: "ALL HOPE ABANDON, YE WHO PROGRAM". Having written a few programs in the two years I lasted there, I appreciated the sentiment.... More, at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Remembering milestones along the way my wife and I marrying: friends, a movie, pizza, and reasonable questions.)

Get-togethers, family and community, are part of the holiday season. Take Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, for example. Thousands of folks, maybe a million or more, turned out Thursday morning, 1 standing in a cold New York City rain, cheering this celebration of consumerism. I could kvetch about folks buying stuff they don't actually need, the rampant waste of helium, or Snoopy being neither at the parade's head nor at Santa's side. But I won't. Fact is, I enjoyed an online broadcast — or is that stream? — of the parade. Watching the parade has become part of my holiday season routine. Instead, I'll talk about another holiday tradition I've enjoyed: family Christmas gatherings at the home of Aunt Jule and Uncle George. They lived, along with some of the rest of the family, in Grand Forks, North Dakota: about a two hour drive north from Moorhead, Minnesota, where I grew up. More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Sharing memories of an annual family ...

I'm taking A Catholic Citizen in America in a different direction, at least for a while. I'll still post something each Saturday, but will be focusing on what I call 'family stories'. It's not that I've lost interest in science, history, and all that. When there's something more-than-usually exciting going on, I'll write about that. But mostly, I'll be sharing memories and thoughts of a distinctly less nerdy sort. I've got a few reasons for this. Why I'm Doing What I'm Doing: Converting Memories to Writing Getting Started: Cats, Homes, and an Incendiary Stove Racing Into a South Wind Another Memory, and Distractions More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Reminiscences: cats, homes, and an incendiary stove.)

A long time ago, some folks were — apparently — living happily in the Rhône River Valley. Whether or not they were happy there, we've found evidence that they stayed near what we call the Grotte Mandrin for 50,000 years. And that they somehow managed to keep newcomers from disturbing their solitude: and isolation. Idyllic as that may seem, keeping themselves free from what my culture called miscegenation may explain why Neanderthals aren't part of today's world. Not as identifiable individuals, at any rate. Neanderthals: Finding a New Page From Their Story Recognizing the Homo Neanderthalensis Type Specimen: Eventually The Vanished Neanderthals: Still an Enigma Living Happily in the Middle Rhône River Valley Many Questions, Still Finding Answers Point, Counterpoint, Neanderthals, the Campbells, and Me European, Yes; Biased, Yes; "Anglo-Teutonic", No Familiarity, Forensic Reconstructions, and Another Piece of the Puzzle Muscles, Mammals, and Much...

Last Sunday's Gospel reading was about Jesus healing a man who couldn't hear or speak. 1 So that's what Fr. Greg talked about: along with how it ties in how we're living today. A tip of the hat to Fr. Greg, for letting me make a transcript of his homily: Healing the Deaf Mute of Decapolis (1) One-On-One Healing (2) Touching His Ears (3) "Unusual to Us" — Jesus Spits (4) A Second Touch (5) Jesus Looks Up to Heaven (6) He Groans (7) Ephphatha! The Purpose of the Messiah Sidon, the Decapolis, and a World of Gentiles Deafness as a Cultural Preference Babies, Birth Rates, Families: and Statistics The Greatest Blessings on Earth Valuing Children Looking Ahead Planning Ahead, and Praying Video: Gospel Reading and Homily at St. Paul's, Sauk Centre, MN; September 8, 2024 More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (A guest post by Fr. Greg Paffel: showing how healing the deaf mute of Decapolis applies to how we should live today. Valuing...

Here's how I learned that someone tried to kill Donald Trump. Our number-two daughter and granddaughter were visiting over the weekend. We were talking about something entirely different when our number-two daughter looked at her smartphone— one of those things that connects whoever's holding it to humanity's social media and information services. She said something like 'oh! someone shot Trump', and we went on with our conversation. That was late Saturday. By Sunday evening, our son-in-law had finished business in southern Minnesota, spent a few hours with us, and set off with number-two-daughter and our granddaughter to their home in North Dakota. Don't get me wrong: I care about what happens in my country, and think that taking potshots at presidential candidates — or presidents — is a very bad idea. But I'm not obsessively focused on politics or politicos. Remembering a Hero Family, Country, and Priorities More at A Catholic Citizen in America ...

Most of the neighborhood I grew up in is now a parking lot. But Prairie Home Cemetery, a block west of the house I grew up in, is still there. I mostly remember it as being next to the sledding hill. My father and I went by, or maybe through, the cemetery on our way to the 'hill'. The sledding hill wasn't, technically, a hill. It was part of a coulee going through the southwest corner of Prairie Home Cemetery. Or, rather, it was part of what had been a coulee.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Remembering good times in winters long past; what was, and was not, important when raising my kids. Flexible Flyer sleds, family, and faith that makes sense.)

Our number-two daughter is still getting radiation therapy for her cancer: and not enjoying the process. Well, of course not. If she sincerely enjoyed nausea, I’d have yet another reason for concern on her behalf. Our son-in-law called today.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (A very quick update on my family and health concerns, with an even quicker look at types of prayer.)

There's a winter weather advisory in effect until 2:00 p.m. — but most of the snow has already fallen and/or gotten blown around. I gather that three to five inches came down here. That's three to five inches more than we had before. This has been an unusually warm and dry winter, so this snow is welcome. I hope it changes our status from "moderate drought" to merely "abnormally dry". I haven't heard anything about my brother-in-law (February 7, 2024) — so I'll assume that no news is good news, and that he can walk again. Number-two daughter started radiation therapy March 11, so this is her third week of taking maybe three hours out of each weekday.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (A side-effect of radiation therapy. Winter storm and drought. Getting a leaking pipe fixed. Weather, and the week before Easter.)

Our number-two daughter starts radiation therapy this week.... More at A Catholic Citizen in America . (Cancer treatment for one of our daughters starts today. Besides health concerns, I realize that this will take a great deal of time out of each week.)