Notebook
November 22nd, 2024 by Gary Osberg

In 1998 Dad moved from his high-rise apartment in downtown St. Paul to my house in Upsala. He had been a city fellow for most of his adult life, but he was raised in Upsala. I was working in Minneapolis as a sales manager with the Xerox agency Albinson and I was gone most of the week. It wasn’t much of an inconvenience to have him there. His passion was cooking; however, I told him in no uncertain terms that I hated the smell of fried foods, and I did not eat leftovers.

In July of 1999 Albinson and Xerox parted their ways and they no longer needed a sales manager. I spent the summer painting old buildings and garages in the Upsala area and started working for Minnesota Public Radio in October of that year. If I did not leave a Post-it note on the counter in the morning that said, “NO SUPPER”, there would be a home cooked meal on the table when I arrived home. The food was awesome. The baked potatoes were done in a very special way. He boiled them for 10 minutes first and then baked them for one hour at 400 degrees.

As Dad struggled with old age and cancer, sometimes the quality of the supper was not up to his usual standards. Also, many times the smell of burnt food or worse, burnt plastic, from the tea pot handle, would greet me as I came in the back door. He liked to take naps, and he burned three tea pots, with plastic handles, in the last six months. It got so that the only time I did not leave out the Post-it note, “NO SUPPER”, was on Fridays.

On Friday November 18, 2004, I came home, and he greeted me with, “I must go to the hospital, but you can eat first. Your supper is in the oven”.  I responded, “No way, we will go now!”  I put on the oven mitts and grabbed the baked potatoes and the dish of meatballs from the oven and shoved them in the frig and we drove to the VA in Minneapolis.

That was Dad’s “Last supper”, he never did come home. That weekend I ate the leftover meatball supper. It was a very tasty meal.

“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself.”  Howard Thurman

November 15th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

I do believe that the first non-profit board of directors that I was asked to join was the St. Cloud Community Arts Council.  Susan Dean was the person that asked me to join.  At the very first meeting, there was a suggestion by the Executive Director to change the name of the 30-year-old organization.  One of the suggestions was “Visual Arts Minnesota” which sounded pretty good to me.  I offered to pay a small prize towards the solicitation of a logo design.  The St. Cloud Community Arts Council was instrumental in the selection of Anthony Caponi to sculpt the “The Granite Trio” on the mall in downtown St. Cloud.  Arlene Helgeson was the chair of the committee that selected Anthony.  The dedication took place on August 30, 1973.  Senator Hubert Humphrey was there.  A grand 40-year anniversary celebration took place on August 30, 2013.  The late Jim McAlister created a wonderful video that is available on YouTube.  If you would like to have the link, just ask. 

Sadly, a few years back, the board of directors of Visual Arts of Minnesota simply ran out of energy and they folded up their tent.  Now there is a real danger that the Lake Wobegon Trail Association is going to go the same way.  Cliff Borgerding has been the force behind the Caramel Roll Ride, the Lady Slipper Ride, and the Caramel Apple Ride.  Cliff is simply unable to continue.  Some individual or a group of folks need to step up and take the reins.   I have attached a letter from Cliff with his contact information.   Please pass the word along to whomever you think might be interested in saving these marvelous recreational opportunities.

“If you can do more, you should.”  Robert Redford

November 8th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

I was an army brat. Dad served in the Navy during the second world war and later he joined the Army. In 1950 he was a Sergeant in the 5th Army, stationed in Vienna, Austria. We lived on the second floor of a very nice apartment building at 41 Gregor Mendel Strasse. There were two marble faced fireplaces and a baby grand piano along with a crystal chandelier in the dining room. I ran with a group of other army brats. I was nine years old and the oldest in the group.

One day in February we were hanging out in front of the large estate located across from our apartment. One of the kids stuck his hand through the chain linked fence and a dog took his mitten. I bravely offered to go through the gate and recover the mitten. I still remember starting my walk across the large yard toward the two “Boxers”. They greeted me by jumping up and knocking me to the ground. They proceeded to chew on my arms and legs until an Austrian man who we referred to as the “fireman”, (he took care of the furnace in our apartment building) came in and pulled the dogs off me.

I walked home nearly naked. My mother fainted when she opened the door. I spent about 6 weeks in the Army hospital. It took me a while to get over my fear of dogs. The occupant of the estate on the corner was a Colonel in the U.S. Army, and his wife gave me a new winter coat. 

In April of 2019 I returned to Vienna, and I was able to take a cab ride to 41 Gregor Mendel Strasse.  I told the cab driver to wait for me and I approached the front door. A resident was getting into his car, and he asked me if I needed help. I shared with him that I had lived there as an Army brat in the fifties and was hoping to see our apartment. He told me to push the button for Benedict, the owner of the building.  Someone buzzed me in, and I walked up to the second floor.  The lobby looked very familiar.  The elevator was new.  The faucet which provided water for the flower garden was still there.  Marcus let me in. He was a live-in boyfriend of the owner, Verena Benedict.  He let me in, but he would not allow me to take pictures. It was an amazing experience.

My mother said that our family was once able to attend a concert presented by The Vienna Boys Choir.  Tomorrow night The Vienna Boys Choir will be singing in the Paramount Theatre in beautiful downtown St. Cloud.  I have two tickets in row G for the first the first one to respond to this email.  I will leave them in Will Call for you. I hope to see you there.

Lesson learned this week: “Any sentence that starts with, “Don’t you”,  “Didn’t you…”  , “Shouldn’t you….”,  or “Couldn’t you…”   implies that the person that you are addressing is “deficient”.   GMO

October 31st, 2024 by Gary Osberg

In the spring of 1965, I knew I was going to get married in August, but I felt compelled to prove to myself that I wasn’t stupid.  I had failed two quarters at the University of Minnesota Institute of Technology after I graduated Upsala High School in 1961, and it weighed on me.

So, I quit my job at Honeywell and signed up for 4 liberal arts classes at St. Cloud State.  I paid $10 per week for a room off campus. My favorite class was “Art Humanities 121” taught by David Crane.  I still have the textbook, “Purposes of Art” written by Albert E. Elsen.  I did much better at SCSU, mission accomplished.  The love of art stuck with me. 

My daughter teaches art at Upsala High School and both of her daughters are great artists.  So, I have become a collector of artwork.  Most of the artwork on the walls of my cottage are from my daughter, her daughters or her students. I have a niece who was so successful as an interior designer and artist that she retired to Crescent City, California before her 62nd birthday.  She lives close to the Redwood National Parks.  She sent me a picture of her backpack positioned at the foot of a large Sequoia tree.  The backpack was dwarfed by the tree.  I am very pleased with the painting that I commissioned from Mary.

I have many friends that are artists and one of them is Charles G. Kapsner who lives north of Little Falls.  Next Thursday, the 7th of November, he is hosting “Odyssey – A 50 Year Artist’s Journey: Not a Still Life.” at Studio Pintura in the NKB Building on Jackson Street NE in Minneapolis. The event starts at 4pm.  Details and pictures of his art are at StudioPintura.com

“Beauty perishes in life, but is immortal in art.”  Leonardo da Vinci

October 25th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

On Monday I will reach a milestone.  For the last twenty-five years I have represented Minnesota Public Radio in central Minnesota, western Minnesota and southwestern Minnesota as well as Sioux Falls, South Dakota and Sun Valley, Idaho.  In April we sold the Sun Valley station to Boise State Public Radio, but I picked up the Brainerd territory.

In April of 1999, I was promoted to sales manager of the Xerox agency Albinson in Minneapolis.  I lived in Upsala at the time, so I would leave home at 4am every Monday. I rented a room from my cousin Kevin in Golden Valley.  I would return to Upsala on Thursday evening and work from Albinson’s St. Cloud branch on Fridays.

On July 13, 1999, I had supper with my son at Byerly’s in Golden Valley. I told Erik that I would keep the old parsonage house in Upsala, but I was planning on moving to Minneapolis, since I had my dream job with a great product, and I would be making a very good living.  The very next day I found out that the owners of Albinson didn’t like the new contract that Xerox had presented to them, so they decided that they didn’t want to be the Xerox agency anymore. They would no longer need a sales manager. My boss told me that I should pack my things, and they would pay me thru the end of the month.

I spent the summer of 1999 painting old buildings in the Upsala area. I drove to Randall and went to the back room at Bermel’s Shoes & Boots, the local Red Wing boot dealer. I picked out a good pair of sturdy work boots and started climbing ladders. My first job was painting the Post Office in Upsala and then I painted an outbuilding on my cousin Dave’s farm. Per my brother Bill’s instructions, I used oil-based primer and latex paint. He let me use his power washer. The two buildings that I did the summer of 1999 still look good. The boots are in pretty good shape too.

In August of 1999 I read an ad in the St. Cloud Times for a “Development Officer” for Minnesota Public Radio. I didn’t know what a “Development Officer” was, but it turned out to be sales. A perfect fit. It took two- and one-half months and seven interviews to get this job, but it worked out well. Compared to “slamming boxes for Xerox”, this is more fun than it is work. I have no plans to retire anytime soon.

“It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul” From the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley.

October 22nd, 2024 by Gary Osberg

I spent a lot of my youth in Upsala, Minnesota.  There were “Farm Kids” and “Village Kids”.  Some were “summer kids”. They were kids whose parent or parents grew up in Upsala and who were sent to Upsala to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa during the summer.  Some stayed for a few weeks, and some stayed for the whole summer. 

Larry was a “summer kid” and he ended up marrying one of the Upsala beauties.  She was chased by all the boys, but Larry won her heart.  He was also one of the eight couples that camped on our lakeshore on Cedar Lake west of Upsala every fourth of July.  He was a fun-loving fellow who died way too young.   

MEA weekend is a special time of the year. Many a father/son(daughter) combo head for the woods or ponds to bring home the “bacon” in the form of grouse or duck. Larry, the “summer kid”, knew that I had never taken up hunting, but he wanted my son Erik and myself to experience a weekend of grouse hunting up north at “the shack”. Larry invited our friend Ron and his son Matt, my son’s best friend, to join him and his son Danny. So, there were three dads and three sons along with a black lab, “Bear”. We formed two teams, and I was the “bird dog” on the DADS team. Bear went with the boys.

The first day we brought back 17 grouse and Larry fixed a meal of grouse with wild rice and cream of mushroom soup in the giant iron skillet that hung from a nail in “the shack”. It was one of the most memorable feasts of my life. I trust that you are doing something special with your family this weekend.    

“Remember, it’s not about having time it’s about making time.”  Erik Osberg

October 11th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

This afternoon there will be a football game on the grass field in Upsala. Most Fridays the USA Patriots host their games under the lights in Swanville.  The Upsala field has no lights.

In my day, the football team was the Upsala `Cardinals’, but some time ago Upsala football merged with Swanville and now it is the USA (Upsala Swanville Area) `Patriots’.  If it were not my busy schedule,  I would be there in my pristine letterman’s jacket. (In 1984, Marcia bought me a new jacket and transferred the “letter” from my beat up original one.)

In 1957 I was an overweight freshman on the Upsala Cardinal football team. Freshmen wore the old uniforms and old helmets, and we did not win any fashion awards. John Atkinson, a senior running back, ran with his knees pumping up and down high and hard. He still managed to make forward yardage. In practice, I would simply bounce from his knees. The memory of the pain is still with me. That was the year when no other team even scored on the Upsala team. Clarissa got to our three-yard line, but our defense held.

A couple of years ago, the 1957 Upsala football team was inducted into the Upsala Sports Hall of Fame. I was one of nine of the twenty-nine original members of the 1957 Upsala Cardinal football team who showed up for our induction into the Sports Hall of Fame. One of the guys, Dave Chuba, came all the way from Ohio. Bob Soltis was the quarterback and captain of the 1957 team. That year Bob was named to the All-State Football Team.

It was the second year that inductees were chosen for the Upsala Sports Hall of Fame. Bob’s brother Ralph was chosen the previous year and another brother John, who was a junior on the 1957 football team, accepted an individual award for his brother Bob. There were lots of Soltis boys and they all played football. No one lifted weights in those days, they just threw bales of hay all summer. Us “village kids” had a tough time keeping up.     “GO PATRIOTS”

“Man’s finest hour is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle victorious.” Vince Lombardi’’

October 4th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

Millard Fuller was born January 3,1935 in Lanett, Alabama.  He became a self-made millionaire by age 29.  In 1968 Millard and his wife Linda gave up their wealth to refocus their lives on Christian service. They moved with their children to an interracial farming community in southwest Georgia, Koinonia Farm.  It had been founded by Clarence Jordan in 1942 and became Koinonia Partners.  The small community undertook several new projects, the primary focus of which was to provide housing for the poor. 

In 1976 Millard and Linda founded Habitat for Humanity.  Today the international organization is headquartered in Atlanta, Georgia and it operates in 70 countries.  Homes are built using volunteer labor and homeowners provide sweat equity.  Many contractors donate their services also.  My brother Bill is on the board of directors of Habitat for Humanity of Morrison County.  They plan on building a house in my hometown of Upsala, Minnesota.   Source:  Wikipedia  

Central Minnesota Habitat for Humanity is having their annual “Breakfast for Humanity” this Wednesday, October 9th at 8am.  An invitation is attached for your consideration.  It is being held at The Regency in downtown St. Cloud and it is being catered by Jules Bistro. I hope that you can attend.

“If you don’t ask, the answer is always no”.  Dan Stoltz  

September 27th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

Quotations are a great way to get an idea across or to remind ourselves and others just what is important. Many years ago, a friend of mine published “A Collection of Inspiring Thoughts” subtitled “For Business & Professional People”. Every week I try to find a quotation to use at the end of this weekly musing. I use a copy of Norm’s booklet and record the date that I use one of my favorites.  I invested a little bit of money in his company, and he gave me a box of those booklets.  For many years I gave them out to clients and friends.  I now have just a few copies left. 

For 22 years I sold office furnishings beginning with General Office Products in 1972. One of our suppliers carried a calling card with a quote on the back of the card. Ron Andersen measured offices for carpet installation and his company was not the cheapest, but they did great work. The card read: “The bitterness of poor workmanship remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten” Longfellow

A woman that I was dating at the time told me that it was not Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, but Benjamin Franklin who said, “The bitterness of poor workmanship remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten”. Thanks to the English major who corrected me.  She also was the one that told me that when I stopped to use a restroom in a gas station, I had to at least purchase a bag of peanuts if I hadn’t purchased any gas.

An article in USA Today about the passing of Yogi Berra was full of his best sayings. “When you get to a fork in the road, take it” is one of my favorites.

“You should always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise, they won’t come to yours.” Yogi Berra

September 20th, 2024 by Gary Osberg

On September 15th 51 years ago, Marcia and I attended an auction on the north side of Cedar Lake west of Upsala. Widow Agnes Olson was selling her small farm and was planning to move to Cambridge. Gust and Agnes had lived there for many years. They were both teachers in Cambridge and I don’t think they had any children. Things had just started to go well with my office furniture sales career and one of my clients who worked for Red Owl was very encouraging. He owned a cabin on a lake in northern Minnesota. My banker was also encouraging. He knew that my saving account was not very hefty, but he suggested that I attend the auction and see what happened.

When we got there, my wife Marcia took me into the barn and said, “I want this place Gary and here is how you win at an auction. When it is your turn to bid you do not hesitate. You react immediately. Understand?” 

I didn’t have the $3,000 cashier’s check with me, so I had to speak to the local banker prior to the start of the auction to get his ok. I promised that if I was the high bidder, I would go to town and get a check from my mother-in-law, Irene Rudie. He thought about it hard, but he finally agreed. I am sure that the fact that my dad and he were great friends and had both worked for the Farmers State Bank in Upsala before the war had an impact. In fact, Roland (Bud) was the best man at my parent’s wedding. Thank you, Bud Viehauser.

The auctioneer milked $50,500 out of the only other contender, and when he turned his attention back to me, and asked “Fifty-one?” I did as I was instructed and simply nodded my head. The other bidder, Lee Bolstad, stormed away and was quoted as saying “Rats, that kid will never quit.” That day changed our lives. One never knows what a day will bring. When I came back with the check for $3,000, Mrs. Agnes Olson handed me the keys. No need to wait until the closing in those days.

“The years teach much which the days never know.” Ralph Waldo Emerson