There was a long stretch where I took the easy way out — publishing press releases instead of stories. Once, I even ran a release to serve the organization that turned out to be plagiarized. That mistake haunted me. But it also humbled me. It taught me that cutting corners comes with a cost.
Jerry Kurz on the Monsters: “Very strong franchise. We’re very selective. I get calls every week from people who want to join. But we have to be sure they’re giving something back to the community. Jake (Lambert, owner) and Steve (Walters, general manager and minority owner) want that."
No one’s saying a banner’s coming soon — heck, we’d settle for a .500 record and a home win over Iowa. But watch closely. You’ll see something forming here, underneath the dust and the growing pains. A plan. A pulse. A program.
This isn’t science fiction; it’s how rural medicine is already evolving. Duluth could simply be the first to turn it into curriculum — a digital rural residency, training doctors to serve wider geographies with smarter tools.
We headed down to the bridge for what we called a “feasibility study.” Translation: three guys staring at the water with thermoses. “Looks cold enough to me,” Dale said. “Yep,” Roger nodded. “Perfect for servers.”
You can’t police despair. You can shuffle people from doorway to doorway, but that’s optics, not safety. The folks drifting between shelters and liquor stores aren’t statistics.
It’s civic theater, and everyone knows their lines. The officials announce. The media nod. The television anchors beam. The advertisers clap. And the citizens — the actual audience — sit at home wondering if they’ve accidentally tuned into satire.
The old fellas at the café won’t need a study to understand it. They’ve seen this dance too many times before. They’ll sip their burnt coffee, shake their heads, and say what they always say when the next “big thing” blows through town: “Should’ve just built another rink.”
At the 1948 Democratic National Convention, when many in his party wanted to avoid alienating Southern segregationists, Humphrey, 37, strode to the podium and declared it was time to get out of the shadow of states’ rights and walk forthrightly into the bright sunshine of human rights.
Plenty of mayors cut ribbons. Ness cut liabilities. He took on the most challenging problems and proved that authentic leadership isn’t about comfort but courage.
That’s Vikings football. Never boring, rarely logical, always exhausting. The highs, the lows, the quarterback merry-go-round, the running game that doesn’t exist, the offensive line held together with medical tape — it’s the same play, different actors.
In 2025, for instance, they raised the levy by 1.85 percent but declared it a “0 percent” year for current taxpayers because new development supposedly absorbed the increase. But that’s a shell game. The levy still grew by nearly $800,000.
The DTA’s union contract, signed in 2022, runs through 2026 and requires $2.5 million a year in pension contributions. That wasn’t fine print. That was bold type. They knew it, signed it, and now pitch it like an act of God.