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Starts with K

Publisher — Wed, 12 Aug 2026 17:59:06 +0000

Starts with K

Lessons, memories come with gifts from the heart

Publisher Wed, 08/12/2026 - 19:59

Kay Fate, Staff Writer

When our granddaughter, Vivian, turned 3 last week, my husband and I presented her with a little tool belt, complete with a screwdriver, screws, hammer, nails and some sandpaper.

For the first time in her young life, Viv did not receive a hand-crafted wooden gift, lovingly created by her Papa Russ out of tiger maple or koa or purple heart or some other wonderfully exotic tree.

At her first Christmas, she received a little wooden spoon, carved with a shallow bowl and branded with her initials – and his.

We balanced it off her 5-month-old nose that night, but about two months later, pictures started coming our way of Vivian using it.

“Just vegetables,” my son said. “We don’t want to ruin it.”

“It will teach her fine motor skills,” Papa Russ said. “Let her eat yogurt and soup with it.”

At her first birthday, she received hand-hollowed wooden percussion blocks with a small set of drumsticks.

“They will teach her rhythm,” Papa Russ said. “She will not poke her eyes out with them. She’ll be fine.”

When she turned 2, she received a mallet as her special gift from Papa Russ.

It is heavy, solid, the square head made from padauk, the handle from maple. Her parents looked at my husband and me, eyes wide, as Viv lifted it with both hands – and promptly dropped it on the floor with a significant thud.

“We have a new baby coming in four months,” my son said.

“This will teach her control,” Papa Russ said. “She’ll be fine.”

That Christmas, Viv received a small all-wooden knife, complete with a handmade leather sheath. Her parents looked at my husband and me, eyes wide, as Viv slid the knife in and out of its case.

“We have a newborn,” my son said.

“This will teach her safety and knife skills,” Papa Russ said. “She’ll be fine.”

The lessons now will have to come a different route, because my husband is no longer able to be in his wood shop, making things he loves for the people he loves.

A diagnosis of pancreatic cancer that has spread to his liver and lymph nodes punched us right in the gut this month. The increasing fatigue, light-headedness, stomach pain and weakness now make sense.

He just finished a round of radiation, designed to stop the bleeding from a significant tumor.

By the time you read this, he will have started a two-month cycle of chemotherapy, designed to buy him some time.

He is unceasingly positive and brave: “You can get busy living or you can get busy dying,” he said. “I’m busy living.”

He is the maker of memories, the planner of adventures and the disobeyer of rules.

Papa Russ is the hands-down favorite of all of our grandchildren, who would boot me into traffic to find their way to his lap.

As soon as Vivian opened her birthday gift last week, she said, “Papa, open it please,” so he did.

He pulled out each tool and explained how to use it and care for it and why it is important. She listened solemnly, nodding and repeating key phrases.

“Always put them away!” “Watch your thumbs!” “So scratchy!”

Russ gets sad when he sees that I am sad, so I work hard at matching his optimism, because it feels like a betrayal to do otherwise.

If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to never, ever count him out.

The five-year survival rate for Stage 4 pancreatic cancer that has metastasized to the liver is 3%, but, as Russ says, “somebody’s got to be the 3%. Why not me?”

He has a point, you know, so when you see me, also know this: Whatever happens, we’ll be fine.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Wed, 12 Aug 2026 14:56:10 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

Area 4-Hers shine with creative writing

Publisher Wed, 08/12/2026 - 16:56

Rick Bussler, Publisher

During my younger years as a 4-H member, I always enjoyed getting my exhibits ready for the county fair with hopes of winning a trip to the state fair.

Conference judging has always been a staple in the 4-H program where judges meet individually with 4-Hers to gain a better understanding of their projects and what they know about their food item, photograph, vegetable, clothing or whatever they are exhibiting.

For me, one of the challenges was trying to figure out what the judges would be looking for in those projects as well as what knowledge I needed to convey to them. I usually practiced at home with my parents quizzing me about potential things the judge would ask. Sometimes I got stumped at the fair, but generally I was prepared enough.

Long gone are my days of exhibiting projects in 4-H. But last week I had a first of its kind experience where the roles got reversed from when I showed in 4-H. I served as a judge for the creative writing division in Steele County. While most projects are judged at the fair, this particular division is done ahead of the fair at St. John Lutheran Church in Owatonna.

I judged about a dozen junior and senior 4-H members who brought a variety of writing samples. Some wrote poems about Harry Potter while others shared fictional writings about various topics. There was even one about the Civil War. It was definitely different than the journalistic writing I’m used to in my role with the newspaper, but it broadened my horizons to encompass other ways to express yourself.

I found myself not focusing so much on the writing display itself, but the overall mechanics of the interview I had with the 4-Her.

What impressed me the most about this unique experience was the level of maturity displayed by the 4-H members which ranged from grades 5-12. They provided above average communication skills through their verbal presentation of the project.

As I told one of the 4-H leaders organizing the judging, some of the physical writings may have been on the fence between a red and blue ribbon, but the 4-H members talked themselves into getting blue ribbons just based on the shear knowledge they shared with me in their interviews and how they communicated.

All the 4-Hers I interviewed were poised and articulate in sharing why they like to write and what purpose it provides to their overall well-being. They understood the importance of writing beyond scribbling a bunch of words on paper. They had well thought answers to questions they likely had no idea I would be asking.

One 4-Her blew me away when she told me how she does not utilize Google to aide in any sort of assistance for writing but instead relies on a physical dictionary, if needed. What, did she say dictionary? I didn’t think teenagers had any clue what a dictionary is.

Another one used their writing as a call for action for others to help serve in the community.

The writer that I picked for champion aspires to be an author and is headed to a college in Illinois to major in writing.

I’ll admit that at times I question the direction our youth in general are headed in life. But my experience last week with the 12 young 4-Hers in Steele County changed my perspective and made me realize our future is in better shape than I thought.

It’s reassuring to see there are kids striving and going in hot pursuit to make the right choices and make the world a better place.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Wed, 05 Aug 2026 14:44:50 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

Sometimes the media gets duped

Publisher Wed, 08/05/2026 - 16:44

Rick Bussler, Publisher

Over the years I have seen numerous occasions where the news media doesn’t get everything right, for any number of reasons. In simple terms, we get duped. While it doesn’t happen often, at least on the local level, the risk is always present.

Good journalism relies on accurate sources. We recently found ourselves in a situation that is unfortunate for all involved. Last week, we published a story about Steele County’s recent approval of a new digital data retention policy. To verify the facts, our veteran reporter, Kay Fate – who brings 35 years of trusted reporting experience – reached out directly to the state organization overseeing these policies. Fate is one of the most experienced journalists of any media organization in southern Minnesota.

She diligently reported on the information she was given by the state, along with comments from local officials. Unfortunately, a state official provided Fate with inaccurate information that fundamentally changed the premise of our story. This error only came to light after our print edition was published.

Our immediate priority is accuracy. We updated the online version as soon as the error was discovered, ahead of any outside notifications. A fully corrected and verified version of the story is published on the front page of this week’s edition.

We take full accountability for the initial error and apologize to our readers. We are actively refining our verification process to ensure this does not happen again. While the response from some county officials has included personal attacks against our staff, our focus remains strictly on ethical, professional and accurate reporting for our community.

For an editorial team like ours, we want nothing more than to present readers with accurate, ethical and timely information. Maintaining public trust is the cornerstone of our mission, and we view every story we publish as a direct commitment to the truth. We hold ourselves to the highest ethical benchmarks, ensuring that our reporting remains a reliable anchor for the community. After all, an informed community makes a better community.

We hope the silver lining in this latest incident will be a far-reaching reminder to officials and sources that the information they provide must be completely accurate. We love covering this community and want its residents to have the most reliable information possible.

For our part, we will continue to uphold the rigorous standards of verification our community expects and deserves.

As always, we’re in hot pursuit of tracking down the truth, and something like this reinforces the importance of what we do.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 15:51:43 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

A remarkable tribute to Theodore Roosevelt

Publisher Thu, 07/30/2026 - 17:51

Rick Bussler, Publisher

One of the features at the new Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library is AI-generated photos on large screens. The photos take you back in time to the Roosevelt era of the early 1900s. Staff photo by Kyrie Bussler

It’s a hidden treasure that has found its way onto the prairie land of North Dakota. Earlier this month, the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library opened in Medora.

Within the past few weeks, I took great American road trip across North Dakota to check out the new $450 million library that shares the amazing story of our 26^th president. It’s refreshing from the billionaire presidents we’ve been accustomed to operating our country in recent times.

Roosevelt is widely considered one of the top five most popular presidents of America. What intrigued me about his story is his humble beginnings and attachment to the plains and badlands of North Dakota.

Now 107 years after his death, we are learning more about this great man at what’s widely considered America’s most remarkable presidential monuments yet. He was only 60 when he died. Most presidential libraries are in or near large cities.

Why Medora?

The Roosevelt library overlooks Medora, a tiny town of 130 and the only incorporated city in Billings County. This rare gem highlighted by its earthen roof rising from the butte and echoing the landforms of the surrounding Badlands offers something that no other presidential site can offer—a fabulous landscape right outside its front doors, preserved in a national park named after Roosevelt.

Medora is largely credited with transforming Roosevelt before he took over the country’s top spot. Roosevelt grew up in New York and the story of how he came to love North Dakota is quite compelling.

At 24 years old, tragedy struck Roosevelt’s life. Both his mother and wife died in the same house on the same day on Valentine’s Day 1884. Dealing with grief that overshadowed his life, he headed out west to North Dakota. He was living the life that he only read about in books.

Roosevelt came to love nature, and certainly there probably is no better place in the world to experience it than North Dakota. At the time he was a broken man in a broken land, and he found nature to be his healer. He loved wildlife in the Little Missouri Badlands.

Years later after becoming president, Roosevelt made it clear that if it weren’t for his experiences in North Dakota, he would have never been president.

The library is not connected with the other presidential libraries around the country. It’s not a traditional museum, but rather an immersive journey into Roosevelt’s life and legacy. It blends exhibits and artifacts with interactive stations and wall-sized screens designed to inspire adults and kids to get “in the arena” and “spend (themselves) in a worthy cause,” as TR put it in a memorable speech in 1910.

A wristband is provided to guests to take AI-generated photographs from the Roosevelt era. They photos are later emailed to you at no additional cost. This is the first presidential library built with AI.

The design process for the library is informed by Roosevelt’s personal reflections on the landscape, his interest in environmental stewardship and periods of quiet introspection and civic engagement in his life.

Officials want the TR library to challenge people, to reconnect families, to get kids off of screens and to think about where they want to go in the future. And they want people to enjoy the beauty of nature.

Roosevelt’s wishes were for people to dare greatly, think boldly, live passionately and care deeply. Something I found interesting was one of his many great quotes: “Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president.”

It’s a cultural adventure that I hope you can go in hot pursuit of enjoying at some point in your life ventures.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Wed, 22 Jul 2026 13:09:59 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

A “ghost paper” looms over St. Cloud

Publisher Wed, 07/22/2026 - 15:09

Rick Bussler, Publisher

Whenever I go on a road trip, I usually make a few stops along the way to pick up newspapers at convivence stores. It’s my way of seeing what other newspapers offer local communities for news coverage and to maybe get a few ideas for myself and our newspaper. Or at least in the case of one that I found last weekend what they don’t offer.

On Sunday, I grabbed the St. Cloud Times once a highly regarded newspaper in Minnesota packed with tons of local news, sports and feature stories. I remember not so many years ago when it was a robust, award-winning daily publication with about 50 newsroom employees working hard to cover the St. Cloud greater area of about 200,000 residents.

But sadly, it’s no longer the case. It’s now a hollowed out “ghost paper” that has endured massive cuts from its corporate owner, Gannett. This scenario has played out so many times in recent years as hundreds of papers have either ceased printing or significantly reduced operations.

What I found quite honestly shocked me. Their weekend edition printed on Sunday contained three sections totaling 30 pages (excluding the comics section). A deeper dive into those 30 pages revealed not a single story produced by one of their staff members. I’m not even sure they have a local reporter on staff any longer. There was one local story in the entire paper written by a freelance writer. All the rest of the news copy came mostly from USA Today, which is also owned by Gannett, and other wire content from across the country.

Wait a minute, isn’t St. Cloud in the name of the newspaper? After all, it’s the St. Cloud Times. Apparently to greedy owners like Gannett that means absolutely nothing.

As a newspaper publisher, I would be horrified and ashamed to put out a newspaper like St. Cloud did on Sunday. My fear is Sunday’s was not out of the ordinary and has become pretty much the standard operating procedure for the daily newspaper (six days, not published on Saturday). I just shake my head in disbelief and can’t comprehend why corporate giants fail to get a better handle on saving journalism.

In contrast, the Steele County Times serving an area of about 45,000 residents contained 26 pages last week, which I actually consider an “off week” for us. However, within those pages, there were 21 local news stories produced by local reporters, along with a local editorial and several local columns. There were also 30 photos of local events or people of local interest. While last week may have been a slower week in the summer for us, I have begun to think there really is never a slow week anymore. Maybe the week after Christmas, if we’re lucky.

Which brings me to my point of sharing all of this with you. I hope you truly appreciate what my staff offers every week. Please don’t take it for granted. We are passionate about local news and covering the communities within Steele County and the surrounding area.

The St. Cloud Times is a textbook example of the decline of local print journalism. In St. Cloud, the Times has largely vanished as a premier independent civic institution. But rest assured we here at the Steele County Times are committed to not allowing that to happen to the greater community that you all so affectionately call home.

While we’re always in hot pursuit of local news, I can promise you that there is no room for a “ghost paper” on the local level, at least in Steele County.

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Starts with K

Publisher — Wed, 15 Jul 2026 15:29:34 +0000

Starts with K

Hypocrisy and humans go hand-in-hand

Publisher Wed, 07/15/2026 - 17:29

Kay Fate, Staff Writer

One day, years ago, my third son said to me, “Mom, I hope you don’t always describe me as your gay son.”

I usually don’t, but if you’re going to read this column, you need to know: I have a gay son. He is 34, single, lives in Wisconsin and is a special education paraprofessional at an elementary school. His coworkers and students love him.

It goes without saying, so do I.

That makes covering assignments like Rainbowatonna’s Pride in the Park a bit of a double-edged sword for me. I love seeing people laughing, celebrating, dancing and hanging out with friends.

There was a lot of that on Saturday at Owatonna’s Central Park.

On the other hand, I hate conflict – especially conflict rooted in, well, hate.

As promised, members and supporters of Old Paths Baptist Church in Northfield attended the event. They brought large signs, one with the 10 Commandments and another telling people to repent and believe in the gospel. Another large sign said “GOD HATES PRIDE,” a play on God’s Biblical view of people who are proud.

There was a sign decrying abortion, but without the graphic images displayed last year.

The little group stood first at the designated “free speech” area on the southwest corner of the park. When they were widely ignored, the protesters made their way to the northwest corner – where they were also largely ignored.

I saw just one man engage angrily with them: Marc Boyett, the parent of two LGBTQ+ children.

“I wanted to hear what they were saying,” he said later. “And you’ve got a preacher, right? Preaching out of the Bible – and he’s preaching hate. He’s spewing hate. He’s quoting Jesus, and Jesus didn’t spew hate.”

Boyett was referring to Jason Cooley, the minister at OPBC. He and a few other protesters took turns standing on a small metal bench, holding a Bible, citing scripture and their interpretation of it.

“The hypocrisy just drives me absolutely insane,” Boyett said.

“We’ve always been an ally,” said his partner, Jen Spencer. “They need to have the same rights as everyone else.”

But here’s the real beauty: The six or eight protesters were far outnumbered by the people enjoying a hot summer day with live music and food trucks and acceptance.

It was literally a park full of rainbows and unicorns.

The Rev. Steve Tyykila smiled through the condensation on the small clear plastic “window” in the face of a uniform costume he was wearing.

“It’s pretty hot,” he agreed.

Tyykila is the minister at Associated Church in Owatonna, which is itself no stranger to controversy around Pride.

The church is identified as a member of both the UCC coalition called Open and Affirming, and the Presbyterian Church’s ministry called More Light. The groups support and advocate for LGBTQ+ rights.

Church members agreed to a covenant and welcome, which was accepted in 2022.

“We did lose a few members,” said Larry Ostermeier, moderator at Associated. “It wasn’t traumatic, because it was a two-year process. We addressed all the issues, and when it came down to our final vote, 96% of the church voted yes.

“We had some resistance from the community, too,” he said.

Most of the concerns have died down now, though, “and we’ve had great leaders in the community, too.” Several church members are on the board of Rainbowatonna.

“I think people are getting the idea that we’re somewhat of a progressive group of thinkers, supportive of all people,” he said. “Actually, our covenant supports many different things, not just LGBTQ.”

Specifically, it reads in part: “Believing that each of us is created in God’s image, we celebrate people of all generations, races, cultures, sexual orientations, gender identities and expressions, family configurations, economic circumstances, physical, cognitive or emotional abilities, education, or spiritual and religious traditions.”

It’s hard work, actually. Like Boyett said, hypocrisy is often in the way.

Literally this morning, friends, I complained about a perceived transgression of a member of our church as I was driving home from church.

So yeah, I know hypocrisy. It’s why I also struggle to be angry at the protesters – people who would be cruel to my beloved child. I believe they’re acting out of fear; I’m just not sure what they’re afraid of.

If you’ll pardon the pun, Ostermeier practices what he preaches when talking about the protesters.

“You know, they’re using the Bible, too,” he said. “We have the philosophy of opening our arms to everyone. We try to show them all the same love.”

To that, I say, amen.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Wed, 15 Jul 2026 15:27:25 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

It’s a rebirth for Owatonna Christian Church

Publisher Wed, 07/15/2026 - 17:27

Rick Bussler, Publisher

Marc Jefferson has taken a church that was “almost dead” as he refers to it and revitalized it into something that he hopes will make a profound statement in Owatonna.

Jefferson is the pastor at Owatonna Christian Church, which worships in the former library of the Pillsbury campus. The church arose out of Destiny Church, which ran into some difficult times prior to Jefferson arriving in Owatonna about a year and a half ago.

He is African American and wants to provide the community with a diverse church of various nationalities and ethnic backgrounds.

A few years ago, Jefferson was sent to plant a church in the urban area of northeast Minneapolis. During his 30 years of ministry, urban areas have been his specialty. Instead, he ended up in Owatonna, an area surrounded by farm fields, something he definitely wasn’t used to in his past. And he couldn’t be more pleased with what has transpired.

“I came down to help with Owatonna,” he explained. “God did something, and I moved to Owatonna.”

Jefferson brings a colorful past to leading the church. The self-proclaimed gang member admits that “sex, drugs and rock-and-roll” consumed his life at one time. Not any longer. About 30 years ago he traded that lifestyle to become a pastor and focus on God’s word.

“I had planned to move to Europe with a band when I went to a friend’s wedding and someone began to tell me about God,” Jefferson recalled. “He told me he saw a calling in my life,” he said, adding he was soon on his way to becoming a pastor.

He believes that many of the rough experiences he’s gone through in his former life have positioned him well with his role as pastor. For example, he went through a “horrible divorce,” and now can relate to people who face the same situation.

Jefferson encourages his members to love God and love people. “Do life with others through the ups and downs,” he says. “It’s the whole principle of grace.”

His efforts appear to be paying off as he has developed a church council of 13 people that meets once a month. In addition, Owatonna Christian offers four pastors, a worship leader, an elder in teaching and an elder in training as well as “a lot of volunteers.”

One of Jefferson’s main focuses is to make the church more inter-generational. “We have to make other disciples, and we need to prepare the younger people so that the church can continue even after we are gone,” he said.

What once was a church struggling to hang on is now in hot pursuit of blossoming into a diverse church to serve an ever changing community.

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Starts with K

Publisher — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 17:55:21 +0000

Starts with K

How does my garden grow? Not at all, thanks

Publisher Wed, 07/08/2026 - 19:55

Kay Fate, Staff Writer

We’re rapidly approaching the days when home gardeners proudly display the fruits – and vegetables – of their labor.

It is the only time I feel a bit envious, but I don’t have to try too hard to move past it.

I buy potted flowers, water them semi-regularly all summer, then compost them in the fall. The next spring, the process repeats.

But a garden-garden? Absolutely not.

When my siblings and I were growing up in Iowa, my parents had a big garden. I’m talking about half-a-city-block big.

My dad did the tilling of the garden in the spring and planted the potatoes.

The rest of the work, my friends, was all child labor – and there was a lot of it.

The straight rows of beans, peas, radishes and onions? The cut-down milk cartons to protect tender tomato plants? The hours of daily weeding? The harvest? Alllllll us.

There were four of us kids, but by the time I reached an age to be of substantial help, my oldest brother was aging out. My next-oldest brother followed a year later. True geniuses, they realized that digging actual wells for farmers was an easier – not to mention better-paying – way of spending their summers.

That left my sister and me, ages 11 and 7, respectively, to care for that giant garden. My parents both worked full time, was the reasoning, so why wouldn’t it fall to us?

Well, for one thing, we were little kids. For another, it wasn’t our idea to have the garden. And finally, it was a huge responsibility.

Additionally: SPF who? My sister has lovely dark coloring, hair and eyes. I had strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes and a zillion freckles. If you listened closely, you could hear my back and arms sizzling as we worked.

And here’s the other thing: When they talked about the garden, or people saw it, or we brought some homegrown dish to a potluck, my parents literally preened.

“But who weeds that huge thing?” people asked.

“Oh, we make the kids help,” my mom would answer airily, waving a dismissive hand, as if we were simply backup.

As infuriating as all of that hot, miserable work was, I can honestly say that I enjoyed BLTs with lettuce and tomatoes that I had picked hours, if not minutes, earlier.

I loved fresh corn on the cob, letting the melted butter drip down my arms as I ate.

A scoop of cucumbers and onions in cream sauce was the best side dish.

Shelling peas on the back porch in the evenings was also rewarding; the little ping-ping-ping as they hit the metal bowl becoming almost a lullaby. Those sweet peas were also as close to candy as my mom would let us get.

Still, every summer, I vowed to myself that when I grew up, I would never have a garden.

And so it went, for almost a decade. By then, my sister had also left home, leaving me alone to work in that garden for the final three years. My dad grudgingly picked up some of the slack.

The end came one August afternoon when I was about 16. My mom called from work, and asked me to pick some onions for the meatloaf she had planned for dinner.

Per the garden rules, I removed my sandals to walk down the row, looking for a good-sized onion. The green tops were drooping, as happens later in the season.

I spotted a good one – and reached for it. Simultaneously, two things happened: I stepped on a snake, which slithered out from under my bare foot, and I grabbed a snake that had camouflaged itself nicely among the onion tops.

It was, appropriately enough, a smooth green snake. The one I stepped on was likely a garter snake.

I must emphasize that none of this was their fault. They were living and doing what snakes do, as was I – which at that point was running to the house as if my hair were on fire, crying and screaming.

My parents looked equal parts amused and horrified as I related the story, but they knew one thing for sure: I would never help in the garden again.

So it remains. And to this day, I have never had another bite of meatloaf.

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OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVES

Publisher — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 17:52:51 +0000

OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVES

Remembering funeral traditions and a good friend

Publisher Wed, 07/08/2026 - 19:52

Alex Malm, Staff Writer

Grief is a complicated thing.

My late maternal grandmother was a first generation American, with both her parents coming from Ireland.

She grew up as a devoted Catholic, so it meant Saturday night or Sunday morning church, and of course fish and chips on Friday nights. (We don’t do fish fries back home, a column for another day.) It also meant going to a lot of funerals and wakes.

My grandma believed deeply in the idea of funerals and wakes being for the living and not the dead.

It was an interesting concept, especially for a Catholic woman, who up until the day she died, argued with my uncle, who is a Fransican friar, about why he was too relaxed on many things.

She believed in the importance of Catholic burials, but she also understood, for many, funerals, wakes, and celebrations of lives, were all to help support the living in their grief.

Growing up, she would drag me to many different wakes, and if it was a day off from school, funerals. A lot of the time, she didn’t know the person who died well, but she knew the people who were mourning, that was what mattered to her: being there to support people.

She would also hold on to funeral cards. She had a ton of them, I thought as a kid. I remember one time even asking my mom when we were at a wake for someone if I should pick up a card for grandma. She got a good chuckle at my innocent, young self.

Like the living, Rhode Island’s dead are generally condensed into small areas, with just a couple of Catholic cemeteries across the state.

My grandma believed in the importance of visiting these cemeteries, at least a few times a year.

As she got older, she often went with her longtime friend, who of course also had loved ones buried in the same cemeteries.

They would have all sorts of decorations for the different seasons and would place them at different graves.

As people passed away in her various grandkids’ families, she would make sure to stop at those graves as well.

This was another adventure growing up with grandma. I often volunteered to go, and we’d start at the first cemetery and visit a number of different grave sites. Many of the people were my relatives, but we would visit others as well.

Then it was off to the next cemetery, just a few miles away.

My grandma would tell me stories about her days growing up in South Providence, as many of the people we would be visiting were her aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Of course, after was lunch or Dunkin’, so as a kid, and even a teenager, this was what we looked forward to most.

As I have become older, I think my grandma had a good point.

Whether it's visiting gravesites or making sure to attend funerals, we all grieve in different ways, and it doesn’t just stop a few days after a death.

My grandma, who was huge on funerals, died at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic.

It meant a very small funeral, with just our immediate family, inside the funeral hall.

But we obviously weren’t going to leave it at that, so about a year later, we had a remembrance mass.

The pandemic is also when our close friend Matt died.

It was July 2021. He died unexpectedly in his sleep, in Shoreview, Minn.

We were absolutely devastated when we heard the news. However, we were living in Rhode Island at the time, and there were a lot of COVID-19 cases. With my wife working in the healthcare field at the time, we decided to not go.

This was devastating, particularly for my wife, who was best friends with Matt for about a decade. The two met while working together as lifeguards. Matt was in college, and my wife was working a second job, while living in the Cities.

Years later, as we were becoming serious in 2018, my wife decided right away that she needed me to meet two of her closest friends, Matt and Caroline.

We would drive up from St. James or Mankato to the Cities for a Twins game and to hangout.

She explained to me we would be staying at Matt’s house.

I was a little skeptical about the whole thing, but within a minute or two, I knew Matt and I would be good friends.

For the past few years, we have met at a brewery in March to celebrate Matt’s birthday. His childhood friends arrange the gathering to remember him for all the good times we had together.

I think this is a pretty special thing. Everybody has busy lives, but even though he is gone, Matt still has that effect on people: He can bring them together.

A couple of years ago, when we had the get-together, we all noticed signs as we walked in.

“Love is Blind” was being filmed. It was fun to see the behind the scenes. We all agreed Matt would’ve liked watching it.

Unfortunately, we weren’t able to make it this year, but we made sure to think of him a little bit extra this past week.

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HOT PURSUIT

Publisher — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 17:50:23 +0000

HOT PURSUIT

Dr. Street rolls out the magic at Downtown Thursday

Publisher Wed, 07/08/2026 - 19:50

Rick Bussler, Publisher

Nick Sharpe, a world-renown magician, performs his magic act on the street corner at last week’s Downtown Thursday in Owatonna. His act is appropriately called, “Dr. Street Show.” Staff photo by Rick Bussler

Getting hit by a truck certainly is not something most people would relish. But for a world renown magician, it has provided him the springboard to a lifetime of magic.

When he was 21, Nick Sharpe and his brother were slammed by a truck while standing on a street corner in California. Sharpe flew 40 feet into the air and ended up in the hospital while his brother lost his left leg.

He shared how someone came by the hospital and left after encouraging him to consider being a magician because of his personality. “Strangely enough, I got hit by a truck and it changed the trajectory of my life,” said Sharpe, who has been performing magic for four decades.

After recovering and realizing life is short, Sharpe’s focus in life quickly changed. He met some key people in the entertainment field, was inspired and his journey as an entertainer began. What began as performing with balloons quickly turned into table magic at restaurants.

Since 1986, Sharpe has mystified audiences worldwide with multiple tours in Europe, Finland, Australia and 23 other counties.

He performed his “Dr. Street Show” act on a downtown street corner in Owatonna as part of last week’s Downtown Thursday. He sets up in any open area or stage. Within minutes, people crowd in to see what the commotion is all about.

As part of his Dr. Street act, he pulls coins out of thin air, swallows balloons and his grand finale was the “old classic cups and balls.”

“The balloon swallow has a big effect on people,” he said. “It hits them in the face wondering how I did that.”

He is used to performing in front of audiences of 1,100 or more at corporate dinners and cruise lines to 150 or less at street shows like Owatonna’s. He focuses on fairs, festivals, street fests, block parties and busker festivals.

“It doesn’t matter if there are five people or 500. It’s going to be the same show,” Sharpe said. He most enjoys “the reactions you get and the smiles you get on their faces.”

Asked about the lure of his magic, Sharpe said in today’s world most people have seen magic acts on the internet. “It’s really super rare to see someone who is doing it in person,” he said.

For Sharpe, magic is an art. “It’s just like playing an instrument,” he said. “You are always training for the next one. It’s a passion.”

At 60, Sharpe said he doesn’t foresee retirement any time soon. “I love it too much,” he said. “The bug hit me when I was 21 and it hasn’t left,” he added.

He identified the one characteristic that has played into his success throughout the years.

“I talk to anybody,” he said.

As for the hit and run crash that left him hospitalized, Sharpe has no qualms about it. “I’m super grateful because everything changed,” he said. “I didn’t have a clue at the time, but it was all God’s will.”

And that’s no magical act.

It’s all part of Sharpe’s way of going in hot pursuit of providing the magic and charisma for audiences of all ages to enjoy.

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