Adventures in Minneapolis
In the summer of ‘44, I went to help my oldest sister Aggie who lived in Minneapolis. I was thrilled to be going to the big city and to be with my sister whom I barely knew. During my stay with my sister in Minneapolis, my horizons widened just a bit. I met new people and took in some activities that I would not have experienced in Verona.
Aggie’s sons were 3 1/2 and 1 1/2 years old. Harley, her husband, was off to war. Aggie had to work to make ends met. I had lots of experience baby-sitting, so I was glad to help her out. I soon found out that my baby-sitting skills had much to be desired.
I watched the boys while she worked and I helped her with the housework when she got home. One day she arrived from work to find Doug and me taking a nap while Jim was nowhere to be found. Aggie woke me and we looked everywhere for him. Aggie became frantic and called the police. We walked over the entire surrounding area calling out his name. After several heart-wrenching hours we returned to the house, hoping to find he had returned. Soon a police car pulled up to the house. Out jumped a teary-eyed Jim. After much hugging and smooching, Aggie thanked the police who told her they had found him across the tracks where he was trying to reach a faucet for a drink. Jim said, “It only went dwip, dwip, dwip.”
When Harley came home on furlough, we spent a week in northern MN at a resort on Lake Winnibigoshish. Some of Harley’s relatives were there also. The men fished and drank a lot of beer. Aggie never went out on the boat. She had a terror of water. I was to watch the boys while she took a much-deserved nap. I decided to take the boys out in a canoe that was lodged on the beach. I had no idea how dangerous that could be. We took no life jackets. I did not know the first thing about how to row the boat. I pushed the boat into the water after loading the boys aboard. I got the boat out quite a ways from shore somehow. I tried to row toward the cabin but I kept going around and around in circles. I was beginning to be a little frightened. Then Aggie woke up from her nap. She walked out of the cabin and she saw us far out in the boat. She began screaming in sheer panic at the top of her voice. Soon other vacationers came running. Two men climbed into their boat and came out to rescue us. The boys thought it was great fun but I knew that I had been very foolish. Aggie didn’t scold me much. She just hugged and kissed her baby boys.
One of Harley’s nephews, Randy, was there vacationing also. He was a pain! But at least he was about my age. One day, Aggie gave me a couple of quarters to spend. I went over to the resort store and restaurant. There was a slot machine there. The resort must have been on an Indian Reservation because that was the only place gambling was allowed. Randy was there and he told me to use my quarters in the slot machine. I had my eye on a candy bar but I decided to try the slots. I put my first quarter in and pulled the handle. Around and around the wheels spun and then stopped. I hit the Jackpot! Out poured a flood of quarters. It looked like a fortune to me. Randy tried to get me to try again but I gathered up my loot, wrapping it in the apron I had been wearing and I got out of there. I had never owned so many quarters in my life.
After that excursion, Harley and Aggie took me to a great amusement park somewhere in the Cities. I think it was called "Excelsior Park."
(Google will take you to Excelsior Park, MN. I still don't seem to have to capability to use my hyperlink in this blog.)
Before leaving the house Aggie whispered to me that I should make sure that I had on my best pair of panties. When I asked why, she told me that I would find out soon enough. My lingerie wardrobe was at best very skimpy, not in the sense of today's concepts, but only in the sense of quantity so I went with what I had. Upon reaching the park, there was a sense of excitement everywhere. I had never been to anything like this before. As we entered after paying our admission, there came an experience that caught me completely off guard. As I was walking over a large grate in the sidewalk, a powerful wind came up from below the grate. My skirt was blown up completely over my head. Now I knew why my sister had warned me about covering my butt. Everyone of our group got a huge laugh about that as they had all been there before. I was deeply mortified, but I got over it quickly as there was so much fun on every side. I could not waste my time being sad that others had laughed at my discomfort.
Aggie did not like anything that whirled, dipped or dived but I was willing to go on every ride that she allowed. Randy and I desperately wanted to ride the Cyclone. This ride was reported to be the biggest hit of amusement parks and we did not want to miss it. Before boarding the ride, we each bought a big ice cream cone to enjoy as we waiting for all the passengers to load. We were among the first to board and Randy choose to take the first seats. I had no idea what was going to happen but I anticipated a big thrill as I looked up to the massive tracks that followed deep descents, steep inclines and many twists and turns.
Finally the wheels began to turn. I gripped the bar in front of me with one hand and held the cone with its fast melting ice cream in my other hand. I thought I was ready for whatever was to come. We climbed quickly to a high peak and then began the terrible crashing rush down the first precipitous incline. I was screaming at the top of my lungs and my ice cream cone was completely mashed in my hand as I clenched it against the restraining bar in front of me. Then on to the next thrill and still I kept screaming. Randy was laughing all the way; waving his arms in the air like this was nothing by a ordinary ride on a bumpy road. When we finally came to a stop, I was flushed, slightly disheveled, yet, ecstatic and wanted to do it again. Aggie’s funds would not allow for that. Compared to today’s thrills at Disney World or even state fairs, this may not run close in competition but for this country girl, it was fantastic.
When we returned to Minneapolis, and when Aggie was not too tired out from her job as a waitress and from spending time with her boys, we got better acquainted. Aggie had already left home to work by the time I was old enough to appreciate that I had such a wise sister.
We went to Mass every Sunday and we would often discuss the readings we had heard. I don’t remember the name of the church we attended but it appeared very large to me after attending our tiny church in Verona. But the congregation seemed more active than any I had ever experienced. When the service began, I was completely swept away by the singing. Most of the people were singing! They looked like they “wanted” to sing! My soul stirred with excitement. The person who led the singing and prayers wasn't up there "reading" something that people just listened to half-heartedly. The priest shared openly his faith. He told how the songs we were singing related to his life and what it meant to him. He encouraged us to pray, not from just our lips while we read some prayers out of a book, but from our hearts, as we would if we were conversing with a best friend.
The priest read a passage, put the Bible down then walked to where we were seated. This made me very uncomfortable. He's supposed to be behind a pulpit flowering out a bunch of sweet nothings. What's he doing down here with us? I was soon to find out. He asked nobody in particular, "Who can tell me what I just read from the Bible?" That got me. I couldn't. How could I? As I understood it then, the Bible wasn’t a book to be understood. It's something to be read in ritual. You can't repeat something you don't understand. The Bible is like poetry. You listen to it. It sounds nice. You know it's special. There's a meaning there, but it's not for the average human being.
But this priest, who must have been way ahead of his time, pressed on saying, "That was God's word you just heard. You're listening to me right now. You shouldn't be listening to me. Your full attention should have been on the Word. God was speaking in that passage I read...”
I had always known that God spoke to me in my heart but I didn't realize He used the Bible to speak to me too! I now began to grasp that He doesn’t just sit up in heaven to watch what we do. This priest made it sound like God did have something to say and we ought to be listening. My desire for the Lord was sparked afresh. His message for that day was to encourage everyone to make Bible reading more a part of our daily lives. He did more than that for me. He introduced me to the Bible. He made it sound as if it was just as relevant as last night's newspaper and just as easy to understand. If God did have something to say, then I wanted to know what it was. I loved Him and I wanted to know all there was to know. He didn’t have to be a “mystery”. Here was a whole Bible full of things to know. When I got home after that summer, I was reading the Bible not just as I had been reading before, from my well-worn Bible History book. I was reading it to learn what it meant for me.
When the opening of school approached, I was tempted to stay right at home to finish my high school. Dick was coaxing me to stay but something urged me to go back.
Next: Sophomore Year and Unexpected Decisions
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