Get opinion pieces, letters and editorials sent directly to your inbox weekly!
Today was lovely. We were on the Mississippi by 7:15. Once Dave turned off the outboard motor and all was somewhat still and quiet, I noticed the scene around me. What a lovely view of Minnesota. The hills, much like ours in Wisconsin, rose into the low clouds, which themselves looked like mountains. A light breeze moved the water against our little boat, causing it to gently rock. The sound of a lowing cow, the hum of a barge moving slowly upriver, the roar of a motor as a boat jetted across the water to a fishing spot, the whistle of a train, the cry of a gull, and a little later, church bells, accompanied us as we moved slowly along the weed edge. The five huge, white pelicans that glided over our heads made no sound at all.
“Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain, for purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain!”
Fishing was slow. Five hours on the water, and we brought home a total of nine panfish and a bass. I pulled in more weeds than fish this morning. Dave caught a 13-inch crappie, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. After a neighboring boat carrying a young boy and an older, skinny man in a cowboy hat left their bass-fishing spot, we moved in. There had been lots of excitement coming from that quarter, which we could hear as we tossed our lines in over and over near the weed bed. Dave caught that nice bass. Then I had a good fight with what I thought was a bass as I reeled in my line, but was disappointed to learn it was a sheepshead. Dave called it a “rough fish,” very bony, and not very tasty. I threw it back.
“America! America! God mend thine every flaw….”
“Had enough?” We tossed our lines in a few times as we slowly made our way back to the boat landing. Dave winched the boat back onto the trailer and pulled it out of the water. I did my little bit, cleaning the weeds off boat trailer. “How would you like an ice cream cone?” Oh boy!
I highly recommend the coconut almond ice cream with little bits of shaved chocolate at Hood Scoops Ice Cream Shop. While Dave and I sat at the table under the shade of the umbrella with our ice cream, his, a cone of Zanzibar very dark chocolate, and I with my bowl of the coconut ice cream, I noticed the United States flags lining the entire stretch of the Village of Stoddard on both sides of Hwy. 35. How delightful! I do love our country’s flag.
I asked Dave what he thinks when he sees the United States flag. He said, “All of us.” That’s it in a nutshell. All of us. Every color, every race, every gender, every height, every weight, every religion, every political point of view.
We visited our friend Fred, the other day. Fred is 102 years old. He told us about the time he was shot down in Belgium in 1944. He and the pilot made it back to the base, and the plane flipped onto its back as they crash landed. An Irish Catholic chaplain pulled him from the wreckage. Fred said that was the only time in his life, until his recent stroke, that he was in the hospital.
“O beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife, who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life.”
I just heard a song, “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free….” I’ve always thought those are some of the worst lyrics I’ve ever heard. Doesn’t a person have to do something noble in order to be proud of himself?
I did nothing to deserve the blessings I have. When I was a kid my mom would say, “You have no idea how fortunate you are to have been born in this country,” and “Eat your peas, there are people starving in China.” I was too young to know what she meant. In those days, we really had it made. Our mother made us three meals a day and made sure we had clean clothes to wear. We could walk in safety to our little grade school at the end of our street, or just beyond our school to the park, or down the block to play with friends. As long as we were home for the next meal, we had a lot of freedom.
We sang “America the Beautiful” at Mass the other night. I could barely sing through my tears. It happens nearly every time I sing that song. Sometimes I cry because I am full of gratitude because of my many blessings. This time it was sadness. I can’t be the only one who is grieving because of the anger and divisiveness in this country.
Differing views? Well, of course. But there must be a way to honor each person’s deeply held beliefs while working for what we know in our own hearts to be right. Let’s work together to find that way.
“America! America! God shed his grace on thee, and crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.”
Doreen moved to the woods from Green Bay in 1984, married back-to-the-lander Steve O’Donnell, and stayed to raise their three children after he died in 1997. Dave Short joined her there in 2016. Doreen welcomes feedback at doreenshort2021@gmail.com.
Get opinion pieces, letters and editorials sent directly to your inbox weekly!
What is happening? Overturning long settled and established precedents.
We were all set. One end of the cable attached to Bill’s truck in the field, with Bill behind the steering wheel at the ready, the other end o…
Get up-to-the-minute news sent straight to your device.