6-7
A lot to think about on this birthday
You may have noticed that the number of newsletters I’ve produced recently has been a little down.
Even with the youngest two of our grandkids spending the day with us, I sat down at the computer at about 9 a.m. Saturday with a list of topics prepared and a determination I haven’t had in a few weeks to send some items your way.
That resolve vanished quickly as posts started appearing around what we eventually learned to be the fatal shooting of 37-year-old Alex Jeffrey Pretti by federal agents during an immigration enforcement action in Minneapolis.
If you’re reading this, it’s likely that sports at various levels play a significant role in your day-to-day life.
Sports are a big deal to many of us, whether it’s supporting area high school or younger athletes locally or watching college or professional athletes on TV.
Some of us have been fortunate enough to have known basically nothing but sports throughout our adult life and make a living at it and raise a family. The pay wasn’t always as good as what would be available at other jobs but the enjoyment of what I was doing was usually an adequate trade-off.
I lost track of who to credit for this graphic, but it’s pretty accurate:
If you’ve ever gone to my Twitter bio it reads: “Lee Larson has more than 30 years of experience covering area sports and has taken his talents to Substack.”
I’ve known for some time that while the statement was true in that it’s been more than 30 years that the actual number was higher than that. In fact, it finally hit home as I started writing this piece that I can change that statement to read more than 50 years because I started working part time at the Albert Lea Tribune in September of 1975.
I worked at various newspapers until 1996 and then in radio until being told I was done a little more than five years ago, in 2021.
After a brief hiatus I started on Substack that spring and other than a couple of lengthy COVID-related absences have felt I’ve been reasonably consistent as “churning out copy” as they used to say in the newspaper biz. Not sure what the equivalent is online.
That inconsistency at times has been a good reason (or maybe excuse) to keep the cost of this product remarkably low, I feel.
But for a couple months a combo platter of overtime at my day job and events in the state have competed for my attention to writing.
At my day job sometimes, I will spend several hours alone on a project and try as I might to fight it, my mind will wander. At other times you’re in small groups and discussions can get sort of deep.
I won’t attempt to put numbers on it, but a significant number of people are from other countries.
But some of those people have been residents and citizens of the U.S. for 50 years. They have children that, while they don’t look exactly like mine, were born in this country and have lived here their entire lives.
It pains me to hear them talk about being cautious while engaged in activities that the rest of us barely give a thought to:
Doing yardwork quickly so they spend as little time outside as possible.
Making sure family members have various “papers” in their possession while they go to work, school, church, the grocery store, or maybe an activity such as fishing and hunting.
Not taking part in something like going to a movie, community celebration or sporting events because they just don’t want to tempt fate.
On occasion I’ve selfishly thought about how their presence affects me. As small as the odds seem to be that it would happen there, how would it affect me if ICE comes into the workplace?
For a while I’ve looked at the color of my skin and determined I would be all right because I wouldn’t be the target.
After the past couple of weeks, I’d have to say it’s not certain as I first thought.
At home I have a workspace that I enjoy. It’s in the front portion of house with several windows and I face north so I look at Riverside Elementary and Salem Lutheran Church.
North Highway always has a good deal of traffic year-round, especially during the school year.
I didn’t work for several weeks last spring, and our usual work schedule calls for us to be done at 9:30 a.m. on Friday.
There have been countless times when I’ve been at my computer and seen a Hispanic mother walking her children (a boy and a girl) to and from school from an apartment building across the street.
We have grandchildren that occasionally walk from our house to school or to get on the bus to go to Lakefield and will also come to our house after school.
Are we not diligent enough with our grandchildren?
Or is she protecting her children from being detained?
I worry for them.
This past week I missed work Friday, so I was at the computer a little past 8 a.m. (EDIT: I didn’t work Thursday or Friday and there was no school on Friday, so this had to have occurred on Thursday).
She only had one child with her. Mom had the child bundled up due to combat the bitterly cold temperature so I couldn’t tell if it was the boy or girl. I hope that the other child was just not in school that day due to an illness or another good reason.
I’m not aware of any activity from federal agents in Jackson. But there have been enough reports on activity in the area that it’s certain that they’ve been at least through here. It feels odd to say that someone is sick, but I hope that’s the case.
So the newsletters have been a little sparse as it seems like there are more important things going on, but I’m hopeful of turning the corner.
Monday brings a new week and the start of another trip around the sun for me as I celebrated a birthday on Sunday.
I’ve yet to see them because they were out of town this weekend, but my three oldest grandchildren, ages 12, 10 and 7 have been anxiously waiting for my birthday since they learned I was turning 67.
Or maybe I should say… siiiiiiix-sevvvvvvven!
We do have two other grandchildren, ages 3 and 1. They’re a little behind their cousins on the craze, but they have time to catch up.
I can’t imagine how many times their parents heard Maren, Porter and Calvin say “6-7” on their four-hour trip home Sunday. Or how many times we’ll all hear it for the next 365 days. It’s been a lot in the past few months.
I can’t wait and will savor every one of them though.