These River Valley Women: Several who touched my soul in 2013

In another life, I used to spend some time in public speaking. It's part of the deal in the non-profit world. Or a brief, failed journey into politics. Or simply being asked when timetables are tight and others far more notable than yourself can't make an event. I understood my place in the pecking order.

As a long-time journalist and part-time political scientist, I would at times be asked a version of this question, "What one thing would best change the current state of politics and make for better government?"  My response was always this:

"Never again elect a white male to office."

Because those in attendance were usually more liberal than my rural neighbors, always more diverse, the comment would elicit some early laughs, then applause. You've got to know your crowd.

But I also meant it. Not that every female politician is better or less embarrassing. (See: Michelle Bachmann.) Yet, it would have to be better. Women bring a different perspective to politics. I'd say it's a broader perspective, more tolerable, more forgiving, more negotiable. (Some husbands might disagree, but that's another story.) And, frankly, us white males have pretty much screwed things up for a long time.

Where am I going with this? Well, it's been over a year since I brought words to this blog. Surprised me a bit when I saw the time lapse because it's not that I haven't been writing. Actually, I wrote more in 2013 than at any time since leaving an active journalism life some 20 years ago. It's just that I've shifted to other outlets. And it's brought me to some wonderful people, talents that have inspired me to do better, do more.

And they have deeply touched my soul.

For the past several months, I've been fortunate enough to write for River Valley Woman, a fresh, first-year magazine. Geographically, its delivery area runs from Redwood Falls to Henderson on the north, from St. James to Mankato on the south. It's allowed a return to those journalism roots. More importantly, it's given me opportunities to meet special young talents who are making a difference here and beyond.

Journalism never leaves your blood. You go into it for certain reasons; you leave it for basic economics. You return to it because of life circumstances and, likely, for the same reasons you originally entered the field. A love for telling a story.  It's a powerful thing when someone opens up their story to you and trusts you in telling it back. That deep-rooted trust is something I've never taken lightly. You've got to truly listen and watch. You've only got this brief period to capture one's heart and soul. And, man, what soul.

August: Nicole Helget. This gifted rural Minnesota writer has guts and talent and wit and eyes that melt one's fear away. When I was assigned my first cover story for River Valley Woman's August issue, I knew there was simply no way I could match Nicole's talents. It was a bit intimidating, to begin with. It remained that way through the final draft. And the fact that I had worked closely with her sisters and mother during a five-year stint in the kitchen at the Kaiserhoff in New Ulm made this one a bit more personal.

September: Sarah Kuglin. I love stories about rural Minnesotans who remain dedicated to this lifestyle. Sarah's social media, technology-based company -- Redwood Valley Technical Solutions -- is amazing. And when someone takes their business success and attempts to share it with others to help sustain our rural business landscape, you've got one special person. And I adore Sarah's last quote in the story: "Your world changes when you become a parent. When I think of the future, I hope my daughter someday can keep living in rural Minnesota."

October: Krista Morneau. Not all knew Krista was a "valley" girl. The Minnesota River Valley. She grew up in my hometown of Winthrop, attended GFW schools and also had a lake home in the Lake Crystal area. Married to former Minnesota Twins first baseman Justin Morneau, October was likely going to be my last opportunity to interview her for a cover story. Justin was likely going to be traded;
October is Major League Baseball playoff time. From the time I interviewed her but prior to publication, Justin was dealt to the Pittsburgh Pirates, a playoff team and an emotional run for the Morneaus. So, the story took a little turn, meaning River Valley Woman had an exclusive. Still, Krista's work with several charities in the Twin Cities region, particularly with Juvenile Arthritis, warranted a story on its own. They will be missed in the Twins family, and they will miss the Twins.

November: The Honorable Judge Krista Jass. She didn't like me using that term, which probably tells you everything you need to know about her. Grounded, appreciative of her opportunities, dedicated mother, and both tough and well-prepared as a young judge in Blue Earth County. The American judicial system isn't always fair and just; spending time with Krista immediately renews a bit of trust to one's being. Despite an immediate comfort in her office and with the interview, it was one of the more difficult interviews of these five young ladies, only because I'm thinking there was so much she could have shared with me, with our readers. She's smart, really personable and tremendously gifted. But judicial canons prevent her from talking on the major topics of the day. But she's ruled out a future run at politics, and that's too bad.

December: Lori Mathiowetz. This one surprised me the most. She's just 30, but an "old soul." That's what I called her almost immediately. and she smiled.  Lori said that's how her teachers and older, fellow graduate school classmates at St. Catherine University in St. Paul described her. That's maybe the end result of a master's degree in theology and certification in "spiritual direction." Lori combines her urban and rural teachings, merges it with the gifts of story-telling and listening, in encouraging "awareness and mindfulness" at Riverbend Spiritual Care in New Ulm. What a gift. What a talent. She and husband, Brett, along with daughters Lily, 6, and Evelyn, now eight months, just returned from Guatemala and work with the San Lucas Toliman Mission.

These were my five 2013 cover stories for River Valley Woman. Their stories continue to provide me hope for rural Minnesota. Their words, their trust in me, have --once more -- altered my life. Journalism is truly a noble art. At least it should be. It's played a critical role in shaping this country's existence, despite the merited criticism of today's talking heads on the cable networks.

Writing for a magazine, a first for me, is a little different. Working for River Valley Woman as the token male is really different, in a good way. Feature stories are fun, meeting wonderfully talented individuals and attempting to tell their stories. I laughed when a friend asked my wife, "When is Dana going to write some stories about men?"  See: Above.

(Note: With this morning's deflation of the famed Metrodome's roof, I pulled out this remembrance of our family's first & last game all together at the stadium in the Twins' final season there in 2009. For many, the Dome highlights were football and the Vikings. But for us, baseball ruled. -- Dana Melius, January 18, 2014.)

October 21, 2009

Metrodome memories: It wasn’t pretty, but it served us well

By Dana Melius

Corralling six kids, as a rule, is a difficult task.  When they’ve spread throughout the country – throughout the world, at times – it gets even tougher.  So, to have all eight of us in tow for the Minnesota Twins’ final weekend of baseball -- the October 3, 2009 game -- at the often-maligned Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome, well, as daughter Ambryn put it, was “not too shabby, folks.”

Our family had never quite warmed up to the Metrodome.  For starters, our first-born, Ben, didn’t arrive until August 1979, just months before dome construction began in that peculiar industrial area of Minneapolis, just off the I-35 freeway.  The power players who snared the Twins from Bloomington and old Metropolitan Stadium called it downtown, but it never quite seemed like it to me.  Cousin Gary “Gigs” Saxton and I lived at 1104 South Eighth Street, downstairs, at the time the Metrodome site was named, and we couldn’t quite see it.  Bad roads, bad access, little room, still blocks from the more “vibrant” Hennepin Avenue district.  Or maybe it was the smoke from the burning mattress on the front yard.  It wasn’t a pretty area.

But a mere eight years later, Ben would join me for that wonderfully unexpected World Series championship run by the Twins.  Section 141, Row 22, Seats 31 and 32.  We took in the opening game win versus Detroit in the American League Championship Series, nearly catching Dan Gladden’s home run; and we were waving our Homer Hankies in a Game 1 World Series victory over the St. Louis Cardinals.  My dad, Pud – quite the baseball lover, himself – was only half-joking about his omission from those games.  He died April 14 of this year, still longing for one more Twins miracle season.   I’m hoping he saw it. 

Pud always saw the special connect baseball held in the lives of Minnesotans, long before the Metrodome and Twins.  He played and managed town team baseball during the ‘40s and ‘50s, when it was king in rural Minnesota.  Communities planned their weekends around town team ball, with local crowds usually in the hundreds, sometimes in the thousands for big games.  When the Twins arrived in 1961 to Bloomington, it still felt a long ways from the big Twin Cities, so there was an immediate attachment for rural Minnesotans, longing for big-league baseball.

The 1982 move to the dome changed that for a spell.  While we could be assured of a game in 70-degree indoor weather, it was Minneapolis.  Traffic, parking woes, seedy business fronts.  It took some getting used to for those of us in Greater Minnesota.  But as in most sports, winning has a way of taking care of most woes.

There are other grand Metrodome memories.  GFW’s state championship football game in the fall of 1989 was very special, helping to unite the three communities early in the school’s history.  Watching the boys play high school baseball there was nice, and being on the field as a GFW baseball coach was a grand experience.  Even once brought Puddy to a GFW game there. And almost lost him when the wind gust entering the Dome nearly did him in and he slammed up against a cement wall, not wanting to go on. We had to wheel him in on a delivery cart as he moaned about the embarrassment and kept complaining, "God, do we have to do this!" 

But when I think of the Dome, I think of the Twins…and that ugly, yet unique baseball stadium.

Twins baseball remains something special in Minnesota.  While the Vikings actually rule the state of sports here – especially now, especially with Favre – Twins followers have an odd spirituality about the team.  I believe it goes back to that surprising 1987 World Series run, while the Vikes have floundered in their four Super Bowl tries.  But two of our children – Andy and Mikell – had not yet been born.  Andy arrived in 1989, after World Series #1; and our baby, Mikell, was born in 1992, after the classic World Series championship versus the Atlanta Braves.  They only remember Kirby Puckett’s heroics in Game Six and Jack Morris’ 10-inning masterpiece in video.

So the Melius family hasn’t had a lot of opportunities to get all six kids here at once.  Making it even tougher, daughter Ambryn’s been to India twice, and son Matt spent 18 months on the island of Diego Garcia, in the middle of the Indian Ocean.  With Ambryn coming home from her new residency in Seattle, and Matt finally back from San Diego after his five-year Navy stint, the time finally seemed right. With time running out, a last-minute organizational effort – and some pure luck in scheduling – brought the entire Melius clan together.  So, on October 3, for the first and last time, all eight of us gathered to take in a Twins game during the Metrodome’s final weekend.   Meeting at the Mall of America (and that’s an entirely different story), we took the light rail transit into the Dome.

We settled into Section 103 in centerfield, just happy to be a part of the festivities.  We were one of few fans who brought Homer Hankies from days gone by, waving them during Twins’ highlights.  And none was better than Michael Cuddyer’s game-winning home run, which extended Minnesota’s Central Division hopes of catching the Detroit Tigers…again. 

While we all later agreed that Game 163 might have been better, this one was just fine.  For the purpose of this trip wasn’t just baseball.  My wife, Kim, of 30 years, and all six of our children – Ben, Ambryn, Bill, Matt, Andy and Mikell – were together at the Dome.  And I made a special point of looking up at that ugly, discolored Teflon roof and thought of Dad.  Puddy loved the Twins. 

That’s what makes baseball so special, it’s for the generations.  And the Metrodome played host to it all.  So long, dear friend.