My Mornings with Bailey

Today's temperature is almost ten degrees cooler than the last few days.  Upper 50's with a gentle breeze out of the north, which leads me to wonder if I should be wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt.  My mom would say no, but my Norwegian heritage proudly says "what's the problem?".

My hand holds a leash that is stretched to its limit, as our nine-year old miniature schnauzer, Bailey, turns her body and forcefully angles her way to the first tree we've encountered.  Bailey only weighs 19 pounds, but the chances of me stopping her from her appointed duty are somewhere between none and the Vikings having better luck in getting to next year's Super Bowl.  So there's no point in moving on until she's ready.

 

To the east, the sky has turned from an uninteresting gray to playful blobs of white, underscored by pink and orange, as the sun awakens from its evening slumber.  The weather forecast is for rain to arrive sometime this afternoon, but for now, there is nothing to worry about. 

A gentle pull of the leash brings my focus back to the ground as Bailey is moving on, her nose inches from the ground.  She snorts as she sweeps the area for fresh scents of squirrels, rabbits and other dogs.  Her present track has her aiming toward a scattering of white powder on the edge of the sidewalk.


"Leave it, Bailey," I tell her, wanting to move beyond the perimeter of our next-door neighbor's property.  I wouldn't put it past the old man to put down some rat poison as a deterrent to dogs peeing in his yard.  Ever since his epileptic verbal attack two winters ago, I've made a point to stay clear of him -- and this morning will be no different.  Is it my imagination or do I see a bent over, shadowy figure looking through his window?  

With a strong tug, I head north toward the end of the block and away from the house.  We have places to go, and trees to pee on.


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Liz and I have been walking in our south side La Crosse neighborhood for more years than I can remember.  It's something that started shortly after we moved into our house and our second son was born.  We would put Sean in a stroller to calm him down and get him to sleep, thinking it was cheaper than driving in a car.  We quickly found ourselves exploring the area that would become our home for the next 25 plus years.

For those of you interested, here's a little history of our neighborhood.

During the war years, and before there were houses  --  between 1930 to 1950 -- the southern edge of our neighborhood was basically a large open field.   This 80 acre field was the site of La Crosse's first airport, called Salzer Field.  It wasn't much of an airport, just a dirt track used for aerobatic shows, military landings and a daily mail route between the Twin Cities and Chicago.  When the city decided to make improvements to the airport (boundary lights and a beacon), they abandoned the site and moved it to its current location on French Island.

The same grounds were also used for periodic performances of the Ringling Brothers Circus and Sells-Gray Circus when they came to town.  Imagine -- twelve acres of tents, three-hundred performers, five-hundred horses and twenty-five elephants, just blocks from our house!

It was later converted into a maintenance site for vehicles from Camp MyCoy (now called Fort McCoy).   During that time, Quonset huts and wooden barracks were constructed on the big open field for the many workers who kept McCoy's vehicles running.  Shortly after, the barracks that housed these workers were no longer needed for the war effort, and were converted into the booming post-war housing effort.

I've always thought it was a great neighborhood -- a typical middle-class neighborhood with medium-sized 1940 and 1950 post-war houses, each with 1 1/2 stories, 3 bedrooms 1 1/2 bathrooms and a detached garage.  Today, it is a neighborhood where you can safely walk or take a bike to school without worry.  In fact, our sons walked to elementary, middle and high school and never needed a car or ride.  It was a rare day -- raining or snowing -- that one of us needed to drop them off at school.  Nearby is the Village Shopping Center, Festival Foods , Erickson Pool and The Cinema within a 15 minute radius making it the center of many family friendly activities.  There's even a small park located in the middle of the block -- Verchota Park -- where we have played football or jumped on a swing to soar so high in the air that the legs of the swing set literally pull out of the ground.

Through the years, our neighborhood has seen families come and go -- when we moved in, we were the new family with young children.  Today life has come full circle.  Liz and I are the empty nesters, surrounded by households with young kids riding bikes and playing in the front yard.

As was the case during most the last half century, you could always find neighbors outside and stop to talk about family, politics and sports.  It was the kind of neighborhood where you could leave a set of keys with the neighbor in case you locked yourself out of the house, or wanted someone to check on things while you were on vacation.

They were good neighbors. I remember our neighbor across the street, Woody, helping Sean and I retrieve a baseball that had fallen through a sewer grate; Dee, our neighbor to the south ran a muffler shop and always came out to talk whenever he saw me working in the yard; and Gladys who was always interested in what we were doing to our flower beds.  If ever there was a neighbor who would lean across the fence wanting to talk, it was Gladys.  They were neighbors who helped us in so many ways.  I can't walk through the neighborhood today without thinking about them at some point.

Unfortunately, our neighbors today aren't as friendly as Woody, Dee or Gladys.  And the children don't play kick the can or ghost in the graveyard when it gets dark.   Society in general seem to be less neighborly for a variety of reasons, including television, social media and safety concerns, and I think our lives are poorer because of it. 

The changing makeup of our neighborhood hasn't stopped me from walking, however.  While my memories of past neighbors are like ghosts that wander through nearby yards, a few neighbors remain that allow those memories to live on.


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I have always loved early morning walks.  You see a gentler side to life as the city wakes up from its deep slumber.  There's a feeling that you can conquer anything.  The day is full of promise as you  think out solutions to problems that have been keeping you up at night.

Today's challenge is coordinating the logistics of getting Liz's nieces, who split time between Ireland and Saudi Arabia, to La Crosse.  From out of the blue, Liz gets a call from her brother, who wants his youngest girls to spend some time in La Crosse.  They've never been to the states before, so we are planning things to do for the two weeks they are here.  On a morning like this, the solution is only a few houses away:  meet them half way in Madison.

As Bailey and I continue our walk I see a few neighbors with their lights turned on -- I imagine people stumbling out of bed to take a shower, make that first cup of coffee and check their phones for updates to Facebook and other favorite websites.  We have a neighbor that works the early morning shift at a radio station, so he is never home by the time I walk past his house. 

(As a child, I remember a neighbor who had served many years in the Navy.  Every morning, I would see him through his kitchen window sitting at the table drinking a cup of (coffee?).  As a young boy I didn't think much of it, but today I wonder if he ever thought of his time at war.  Did he miss his wife who had passed away from cancer?  Was his early morning routine formed during the war, or did his body hurt so much that he could no longer sleep?.  As I grow older, I find the later to be more plausible.)

We are waiting at the curb as a car rumbles past, avoiding potholes that have become as big as Bailey.  Once it is gone, we cross the street and head up a slight incline before Bailey finds interest in a neighbor's fence post.  As I wait, I see a familiar figure -- a high school student -- with his hood pulled over his head, switching to the other sidewalk.  It never fails -- I don't know if he's afraid of Bailey, or me.  I can walk on either side, and he will walk on the other. 

On most days, the 1 to 1 1/2 mile walk will last thirty minutes, unless we encounter rain or heavy snow from the night before.  Then it's a quick once-around the block and back in the house. 

Today, I think we will walk over to where the church grounds are under construction to see what progress has been made.  I tell Bailey that we have an hour before I have to go to work, so let's enjoy every step.  She looks up at me, as though she understands.


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I wonder how many people have never really explored their neighborhood?  They jump in their cars and drive away.  I realize people are busy with school, sports and other things.  But for too many people, their view of the neighborhood exists out the front window when they're not watching television.  I don't mean to tell people how to live their lives, but they're missing out.

For me, walking slows things down and let's me look at the houses, schools and businesses up close.   You see their flaws (pealing paint and weeds), their beauty (a trellis full of cascading wisteria flowers) and sometimes the people who live or work there (many have lived in the same house all their lives). It also lets you hear the sounds of the neighborhood.  The swish, swish of sprinklers, the welcoming barks of dogs who wish they were joining us, or the whistle of a distant train hauling goods to another city.

In the years we have been walking, many things have changed, but some are as consistent as the rising of the sun over the bluffs to our east.

.  Our encounters with middle school and high school kids walking to school, eyes glued to their cell phones, oblivious to cars backing out of a driveway or the waging tail of a certain miniature schnauzer.

.  The assembly of people arriving for seven o'clock mass at Mary, Mother of the Church Parish (accompanied by the floating, long serenades of ringing bells announcing its start).

.  The lonely sighting of an empty yellow school bus, waiting at Harry Spence School, ready to start its route to pick up children eager for another day of school.  As we approach, the bus driver lowers her "People" magazine long enough to smile and acknowledge our passage.

. The meeting of a familiar rescue dog, Miles, and his foster owner, Curt.  Someday, he is going to tell me that he has decided to keep him.  The longer he keeps him, the stronger the bond.

 

. The sad reality of ash trees slowly dying from the Asian beetle.  Large trees, a part of our neighborhood for fifty years or more, are gone in one day, to be replaced by young trees that provide no shade to those of us walking by.

. The sight of mourning doves fleeing their evening perch, whistling through the air as their flight feathers create an audible, high-pitched sound.

. The precise arrival of engineers in the parking lot near Trane Company.  I hypothesize that each one of them is contemplating a better lunchbox design than the obligatory one they carry with them into their office.

. Seeing our neighbor's aging golden lab, laying in the grass, patiently watching us with the wisdom that nothing is going to interrupt his early morning meditation.  I don't look forward to the day he won't be there to greet us.

Some of these occurrences are good, others not so much.  Either way, I would miss them if I couldn't take my daily walk through the neighborhood.


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We are waiting at another busy intersection where a constant stream of cars is heading to work. 

I estimate that Bailey and I walk over 400 miles every year.  If someone my height averages 2,100 steps every mile, then I'll be walking over 840,000 steps in 2018.  Or 3,360,000 dog steps based on Bailey's short legs.  Whew!  No wonder my feet hurt every day!

Obviously, the biggest benefit to walking is improved health.  A relaxing walk every day could lead to fewer pills to lower your blood pressure.  I read somewhere that walking will reduce your risk of death from cardiovascular causes by 46% (if walking with someone as slow as Bailey).  If you can walk faster, without stops, you can reduce that risk by up to 53%.

But there are other reasons to walk.

Maybe we could understand some of the problems our nation face if we aired our differences during a walk around the neighborhood with a friend or spouse (instead of listening to the morning news).  I'm thinking marriages would also benefit with a little more talk about work and family during a walk -- get to know your spouse again and why you fell in love all those years ago.  

And of course getting to know your neighborhood is good for developing your sense of belonging.  Of having an identity. 

While my neighborhood isn't what it used to be -- I still miss Gladys and Woody -- I will never forget my time here.  The memories of our house and those around us will be with me when we retire and move to someplace else.  I know this because I still remember my parent's neighborhood. 

I had awesome times playing basketball and walking down the street on stilts.  "Kick the Can" was great fun and I can still remember how strange is was lying in the grass of my neighbor's yard swatting mosquitos and hoping that itch wasn't coming from poison ivy.  The view of my parent's house from three houses over was different.  The lights looked brighter and the house was too small for six people.  Almost like it wasn't the same place.

I think walking though my neighborhood with Bailey has given me that familiar childhood feeling.  Unless you get out and view the world -- or neighborhood -- things will always look the same.

Home Away From Home

At 5 feet tall, and weighing less than 110 pounds, she hardly seemed capable of having much of an impact. 

If we were talking football, she wouldn't survive a single hit.  Call the doctor, get an ambulance and prep the operating room. But if we were talking matters of the heart, it was another story.  Like a much loved daughter, her presence could melt away the worries of a busy work day and make you glad she was with you.

Little did we know when we met Ahn Jae-hyun on a cold January evening in 2013 that she would affect us in such a personal way. 

 

She was the first student we hosted as part of La Crosse Friends of International Students (LFIS), an organization that connects students from around the world with a host family and the La Crosse community.  Unlike foreign exchange programs where students live with you, La Crosse Friends of International Students simply provides support to foreign students needing a friendly face, adjusting to college life while away from home.  It's a connection to each student needing a friendly face in new surroundings -- getting back and forth to the airport,  hosting a much-needed home meal, getting out on the river,  traveling during the holidays with family, or making a simple phone call when someone loses a filling in a tooth.

LFIS was something new for us, and served as a way to keep young people in our lives after both of our sons left the house to pursue college, jobs and lives of their own.  Hosting a foreign student -- from another country, with a new language, culture and cuisine -- was simply icing on the cake. 

Liz and I have always enjoyed watching travel videos to exciting places in Europe like Norway, Scotland, Croatia, Slovenia and Spain.  We've been fortunate enough to travel to France, Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic, Ireland, Canada and Mexico.  Hosting these international students has simply been an extension of those journeys and allowed us to enjoy different cultures in person.

Ahn Jae-hyun was born in Busan, South Korea, the younger of two sisters.  Busan is the second largest city in South Korea with more than 3.6 million inhabitants.

I can't imagine what it must be like to travel from such a large city to a foreign country (even one as friendly as the United States), cope with a strange language, adapt to a different culture, time zone and food, earn money without working, and make new friends.  And once you have a handle on all of that, you still have to study and pass college-level courses, often taught in English.  I always assumed our language was taught as a second language to many foreign students, but even when they know enough to greet you, there is still a jump from reading it in a textbook to actually being able to talk and understand someone else speaking it. 

Ahn Jae-hyun, like other students from Asia, was one of those who struggled with her English.  So it was always an adventure with her, although by her fourth year she was much improved.  Every year she would return to UW-L with a better grasp of our language, which made getting out into the community that much easier.  Nothing made me laugh like watching her nod to a question I asked and then realize that she had no idea what I just said.  It's still funny! 

 

Since joining La Crosse Friends of International Students we have welcomed 6 other students from South Korea, China, Denmark and Great Britain.  Despite different countries, languages and cultures, their similarities overcame their differences.

What were they like?

With the exception of one, they all came from large cities  - not Minneapolis or Chicago big with 2 or 3 million people, but really big.  As in 24 million -- or 3,854 people per square kilometer in the city of Shanghai.  Applying the same number of people per mile to La Crosse, that would increase our population three times per square mile.

I often wonder why they chose to visit our little city, located in the middle of America, in a rural state with farmland and rolling hills. La Crosse isn't an urban center with racial diversity, a variety of musical entertainment or ethnic neighborhoods that you can find in the larger cities.   I asked Lydia Xu from Shanghai, China if she was ever able to be alone in China.  She laughed.  With such a large population, there is no getting away.  A nice quiet walk by yourself.  I wonder who would have a harder time adjusting, me walking through Seoul, Korea on a typical rush hour morning or Min Park walking through the marsh area during a quiet Sunday afternoon.

Ah, the simple things we take for granted...

As students, they all shared equally in struggles that came from tests and homework.  Some seemed to study all the time -- and I mean ALL the time -- while others where involved in sports which kept them occupied when they weren't studying or taking tests.

To our knowledge, they all did well in school, and three actually graduated from college during their time with us.  Watching them cross the stage to accept their diploma was as exciting as watching our own children.  We were lucky enough to have Ahn Jae-hyun's mom and sister make the trip to La Crosse in December for her graduation from UW-L.

Some were talented in singing or piano, others in volleyball and soccer. Their extracurricular activities only amplified our enjoyment -- I mean, it's hard to sit in on a chemistry class, but easy to watch a game of soccer or attend a musical performance.

Another thing in common was their desire to travel.  As young adults -- with family or classmates -- they had traveled through parts of Europe and Asia with the ease that Liz and I have in driving from La Crosse to Madison.  Whenever there was a break from school -- Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas --  the students from China and Denmark would travel to Chicago, New York City, Tampa and Los Angeles.  A few returned home to see family, but that was probably because they needed money or a hug from mom.  Home would always be there, but not the Big Apple or Windy City.

Liz and I were always amazed at their willingness to fly cross-country by themselves, and somehow navigate a strange city in a strange country, and be back in class by the following Monday.

Marianne Larsen and Jonas Rasmussen -- who were with us for only 6 months -- seemed to handle our language and culture very well.  In fact of all our students, they seemed the most adept at fitting in at UW-L.  I always had the feeling they were here just to experience America and move on to their next adventure.  In the years since they left, Jonas has continued to search for his "next" adventure by bungy jumping from the Bloukrans -- the world's highest bungy-jumping bridge --  or parachuting from a plane in South Africa.  In the world of extreme sports, La Crosse doesn't have much to offer, unless you want to consider rock climbing Grandads Bluff as an opener.  Otherwise, not much to raise the hair on the back of your neck...

Speaking of celebrations and holidays, we've always tried to find out something about each student's culture, how they spend holidays and birthdays.  What food is served?

As a midwestern boy of simple means, I grew up eating mac and cheese, applesauce and beans, and cheeseburgers  (hold the pickles and onions!).  With each new student, I am reminded of how different we are --  language is the first thing you notice, but a close second has to be food.  It didn't take long to realize Asians don't eat birthday cakes with sweet frosting (with the exception of Joe who always had an appetite).  Liz is always excited about getting students together in our kitchen to prepare a meal that reminds them of home -- rice, noodles and vegetables.  She even found a bar on the North side of La Crosse that serves a bowl of Korean food on Friday nights (I've discovered kimchi, bibimbap and bulgogi has a way of growing on you).

Lydia Xu -- currently attending Viterbo University -- has an interesting appetite (to say the least) that consists of chicken butts (yes!), intestines, tripe, eels and anything that swims.  But she will pick at a plate of cheese, not convinced that goat cheese is up to her standards.

I am certain that one of my biggest challenges, should we visit Lydia or Jae Hyun, would be the food.  The only unknown is how much weight I would lose while visiting.

Our students from Denmark gave us a bottle of Gammel Dansk (bitter dram) complete with a sing-along for the holidays.    The taste reminds me of a combination of licorice and chili.  According to Wikipedia, is is one of the most recognizable strong bitter alcoholic beverages on the Danish market.  The bottle reads "for godt om jorgensen, efter dagens don't, under jagrten, pa fisketuren elder som aperitif (enjoyable in the morning, after a days work, when hunting or fishing, or as an aperitif ).

When hunting or fishing?  Seriously?  Marianne and Jonas, don't take offense, but there is still some left, despite sharing a full shot glass every Christmas.

 

As an old dog who struggles to learn new tricks, I am nonetheless thrilled that we have been able to stay in touch with almost every one of our students, through Facebook, KakaoTalk and WhatsApp.  The thrill of hearing from Jae Hyun or Lydia from their home on a Saturday morning while driving to the gym to work out is more than enough to stop us in our tracks.  Then again it may not take too much (that's a reminder, Jae Hyun, to text your U.S. "mom" every Saturday around 8 a.m.)

But seriously, despite the distance between us and our friends around the globe, it is such a blast talking to them, whether by text or video, as has happened with Emma Morris, who remains in the states, going to graduate school in Ohio.  Emma has a full plate -- in addition to studying for grad school, she is an assistant soccer coach for Heidelberg University in Tiffin Ohio.   That privilege means hours in a car recruiting new soccer players.  As a way to pass time, we have talked via video on Facebook to pass time.  Well, maybe for her.  But for us, we are keeping up-to-date with someone we miss who has left the friendly confines of La Crosse for a much more challenging adventure.

At a time when our own country is at odds over everything -- politics, race and even sports, it's nice to know that these young students offer hope for a bright future.

Bringing these students into our lives reminds us how big our world is -- it's easy to think everyone is like those we see everyday.  They are a reminder that we live in a world full of different people.  People with different faces, different appetites (I'm talking to you Lydia!), different cultures and different expectations. College has always been about learning.  How fun it has been to take that learning experience into our homes and lives as though we were freshmen attending college ourselves!

Thanks to all of you who have enriched our lives with the enthusiasm and perspective of your music, food and customs.  You are all special to us -- until we meet again!

Jae Hyun - Busan, South Korea
Linghao Zhou -- Wuhan, China
Min Park - Seoul, Korea
Marianne Larsen and Jonas Rasmussen -- Denmark
Emma Morris -- Richmond, Great Britain
Lydia Xu -- Shanghai, China