Archive for September, 2013

When The Circus Came To Le Center–and Then Elysian!

by Old Uncle Crow

[this is a revised version of the account originally composed by OUC on 21 March 2006 — ed]

(THIS Is a story that Sheriff Pat Smith told me one night in the summer of 1964, when I got busted with some other kids who shall remain nameless, for lifting a case of beer off the top of a beer-truck in front of “Ralph’s Corner Bar” in Elysian, Minnesota.  It was an impulsive sort of decision–we were all piled up in the back of C’s old pick-up and pulled right alongside the beer-truck, and–Bingo!

(Only Sheriff Pat was waiting for us when we pulled in the public-access at Gorman Lake!  “That’s alright, boys–I knew right where you’d be ’cause I used to pull all this old shit myself when I was a punk.  Which is why I’m such a good law-man–AND, you little bastards are all busted!”

(Basically, only one of us had even gotten a bottle open, and Sheriff Pat shook us down the $3.95 to (more…)


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My Great-Uncle Magly & the Schuck Murders Revisited

by Old Uncle Crow

[this is a revised version of the account originally composed by OUC on 8 March 2006 — ed]

I Have been hearing, reading and thinking about history, now, for going on sixty years.  It all began for me in my childhood at the time of the Korean war, when my father would show to me on a globe of the world with a shoelace how far it had been from France to London, and England to Berlin, during the World War II air-raids–and, now, how far the Russian bombers would have to fly from Moscow to our house in south Minneapolis.

Then, all unknown to myself, I began an historian’s actual work during the long hot summers of the 1950’s, while staying on my maternal grandfather’s farm, on the high and, today, utterly agchem exhausted and ruined, ground between Eagle Lake and Madison Lake, Minnesota, just East of old Mankato, in its a brooding Indian hanging-cursed valley at the southernmost bend of the Minnesota River.  There I lived in those long-ago days, and in a much different world than ours of today, with my Grandpa, his unmarried son, my Uncle Emmett, and my Great-Aunty Leona Magly.  She was (more…)

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