Autobiography of Andreas Langum
Andreas Langum is my great-great-grandfather
Note: There has recently come into our possession an autobiography, translated from the original – which was written in Norwegian – and reads more like a story than the actual experiences of a human being. Could we reproduce it without names we would do so, not that we are not proud of our deceased grandfather, but due to the fact that it was never intended for publication. We cannot refrain from publishing at least a part, however, so that some of the present generation (who may be disposed to complain over imaginary hardships) may see … Read more…
For many years I worked night shift as a peace officer in a rural jurisdiction. Sometimes it was scary and exciting. Much more often, it was quiet and boring.
Your mind wanders and you think deep and varied thoughts. I often wondered what I was doing out there – while most other people were home sleeping. I began to envision myself, like my medieval counterparts, as “the watchman on the wall.”
I mentioned this, at one point, to my children. One of them said it was like the game of thrones. I had no idea what he was talking about, … Read more…
This is not true. It is a story. Similar situations may have occurred in real life, and some of the characteristics of the principles in the story may be an amalgamation of real people, but any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
This story is about the Sioux girl, Emmy Pond
WHERE I COME FROM: Grandma Artichone hated the Sioux. Pretty non-P.C. in this day and age when all tribes unite in despising the white man.
Grandma Artichone was a wild old woman – probably the last traditional Ojibwe in our family tree. She was the … Read more…
Back to work
Duluth is a strange old town. For most Minnesotans, Minneapolis/St. Paul are “the cities.” In NE Minnesota, “the city” is Duluth. The difference between NE Minnesota and the rest of the state is quite noticeable. While most of Minnesota has a rural farm-based origin, it is hard to even grow hay in NE Minnesota, and many of the late 19th century immigrants to this part of the state ended up working for large companies, logging, railroads, and in the iron ore mines. The oulook and politics of their descendents reflects this. Unions are strong, and Gust Hall, long time president … Read more…
A little morning jaunt through history:
A young King Henry VIII
Your 10th great grandfather, John Alexander Harrington, married Ethelreda Dingley Malte, illigitimate daughter of King Henry VIII.
Ethelreda Dingley Malte
Not all historians believe Ethelreda was the daughter of King Henry VIII, but other explanations for the honors, riches and lands bestowed on the daughter of a poor laundress, ring hollow.
Through her, in some respect, you are related to all the Tudor Kings. You are also directly descended from all the Plantagenet kings of England, including William the Conquorer, and through direct descent from King Alfred the Great, … Read more…
Thoughts on my son Peter:
Mugshot of Peter, the lost soul/meth-head. Peter was sentenced to six years in prison for a burglary in which a man died. The first answer to prayer. He could have been charged with homicide. He served four years. God was good, and he was able to attend a Chuck Colson school while in prison.
Peter & Jenna – new house. Peter, almost single-handedly, has increased the income of the … Read more…
In 1933, June Kirby, my mother-in-law, lost her father – drowned in a duck-hunting accident. June’s mother went from being a house-wife in her own home to having to board the children on their grandparent’s farm, back up in the woods, and scrubbing floors for wealthy people in the city – only seeing her children on weekends. June, only ten years old, memorized this prayer and prayed it every night for her mother:
“Dear Father, Keep my mother in the stillness of the night. And let her sleep refreshingly until the morning’s light. Please help her as she … Read more…
Wolves on Nina Moose
I should write this down. It happened a long time ago, but I will do my best to remember the details.
I was about 17, and it was about 1969. With David Seversen and Tom Trynon, I went skiing on the border lakes. It was a more wild place then – than it is today. Tom had discovered a trail on an old map to a deserted ranger cabin half way between Nina Moose River and Little Indian Sioux River, north off the Echo Trail. It was deep winter, and while not spectacularly cold, there was plenty of snow.
The … Read more…
On a very dark night, night before last, using my headlamp, I went out to the woodshed to carry some firewood over to the sauna. As I exited the woodshed. I became aware of something to the northeast of me, about 30 to 40 feet away. At first glance, I thought it was deer. We’ve had a lot of them around this winter, kicking up the snow beneath the apple tree, looking for fallen apples.
Within a split second it registered that deer eyes shine green in the dark, while these were amber.
I jumped. Though wolves have lost … Read more…
A Couple Of Bear Stories
Tom Kemmett’s bear post got me thinking of bear. I’ve had little contact with brown bear – though I did shoot one with an old 8 mm Mauser in the 1970s that had got in the chickens up in Alaska. I was better armed than my room mate who’d come armed with a broom. Thought it was a dog, in the dark – until it stood up – and up – and up. Figured there were more bear than chickens in our part of Alaska. I could have kept the bear if I’d paid for a license, but I was … Read more…