Finding Home: The Journey to Saint Paul

Finding Home: The Journey to Saint Paul

Mother said they already knew that the communist soldiers were on their way to her father’s house because he was a provincial governor, he was one of the firsts on their lists. They had many lists. My mother never told me more than that, stopping when the flooding of...
Bill’s Menagerie

Bill’s Menagerie

I spent two summers semi-underground in Saint Paul. I worked in a corner of a municipal building’s warehouse near the Mississippi River. It was, more accurately, the city’s basement. Among antiquated voting cards, countless discarded mechanical parts, and a zoo of...
End of the Line

End of the Line

Take the bus? Sure, I can take the bus. Moving to Saint Paul from a small southern Minnesotan town in 1976 was thrilling. I was nineteen years old and fearless; riding the bus didn’t seem like a big deal. With only one car and an apartment with my fiancé in Roseville,...
XXX Searle

XXX Searle

A chunk of snow falls while my grandma Dorothy Marie Miller Wick Rangitsch Hayes stares out the window. She is eighty-nine years old and lives in the disorientation and terror of dementia. During a February thaw another chunk breaks off the eaves, crashing with a...
Tickets

Tickets

A RENOWNED RECYCLER with a long history of community service, Richard Miller writes parking tickets as part of his job as Building Service Assistant for the Minnesota Historical Society. Did you know attendance jumped from 600,000 to over a million after they started...