View From a Prairie Home

By Hege Herfindahl, Columnist

It had been a short two day vacation at our cabin, but we needed to get home. The weather had been perfect, but as we drove home it started to rain. It fell to the ground in sheets. It seemed like the whole world was water. We drove home from Willmar through this, wondering the whole time how our gravel roads would be. It turned out, they had been pounded into almost cement consistency. Our fields had turned into lakes just when we thought it was becoming dry enough to plant.

The next day was hot and humid. Too hot for May even in Minnesota. But I was feeling grateful. Many friends had water in their basement, but amazingly our sump pump had managed to keep on going. The roof of our old house had even kept us dry. We sat outside. We love to eat on our patio and hot humid weather does not prevent us from loving to be outside.

I had been busy planting the flowers that I had started from seed inside. So I had not looked at any weather apps and therefore was unaware of what was to come this summerlike evening. But suddenly the winds seemed stronger and we agreed it was time to go inside. Grant ran to the garage to close the windows while I went into the basement to fill pails with water in case we lost electricity.

When Grant met me coming upstairs, he said: “We lost the gazebo.” We went to the south-facing windows and saw a spruce tree had fallen on top of it. As we stood looking, a 72 foot spruce to the south-west started falling slowly and barely missed the house.

That’s when it occurred to us that the basement was a good place to be. By that time, we had lost power. Having experienced many storms, I have learned to have flashlights easily available.

Thanks to courageous linemen and living close to Agralite, we were only without power for a few hours. By that time, the fierce winds had almost stopped, so we went outside to survey the damage. Our gazebo. So many fun evenings spent there, protected by the mosquitoes by the many screens. Using flashlights and forgetting common sense, we started the chainsaw and the tractor and tried to get the tree off the roof to no avail.

We finally had to go inside and were grateful we could shower because we had power.

But I felt sad. Our beloved gazebo. One memory stands out. June 5th 2020. Evening. The air filled with fireflies. Clear sky with stars shining extra brightly. We sat in the gazebo, telling stories, laughing. My son-in-law, Patrick, his usual, charming self. Later, not being able to see into the future, I went into the house to clean the kitchen after supper. We had eaten fish, caught by Patrick and his two sons earlier that day. I went outside a little away from the yard to dump the fish bones into the CRP. From the gazebo I heard laughter. It was the last time I heard Patrick laugh. The next morning, he got up early and went for a run. He was found later. On the driveway. By his young son. He was dead at 43. I will never again be able to sit in the gazebo on a summer evening and remember Patrick.

I found out later that so many people fared much worse than us. At least three that I know of lost their lives. Houses and farmsteads were demolished. Electricity poles smashed in half. People without power for almost a week. We will remember the 12th of May 2022 forever. The day of so many losses. But what a friend who had lost his whole farm including his house said to me: “We are so grateful for all the people who came to help.” In the face of tragedy, people step up. Despite shootings and war. Despite all the bad happening in this world, most people was good, helpful and compassionate. Out of tragedy, we stand together and rebuild.