Deborah,

All the writing is here. Just select all (CTRL  A), copy (CTRL C) and then paste into Microsoft Word (CTRL V)

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 1

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Lee Murdock

Teacher Submission

Grand Forks Central High School

MY OLD HOME TOWN

My old home town is one where being honest and neighborly is a way of life, but its existence is threatened by the fact that it has a dwindling and aging population.

Its main street is two blocks long with a dozen business establishments (if one counts the three empty lots, the bank,post office, outreach clinic, fire hall/ ambulance station and Legion club) on each side. But of those, 4 on each side, stand empty with their windows

staring blankly out into the street.

At one end stands the shop building of one of the original three gas stations - only one remains. It has long since been converted to a Fire station/ ambulance garage. In one stall stands an impeccably kept 1959 bright cherry red fire engine and in the other a nearly new ambulance. Half way down that first block is one of the newer and most frequented structures on main street ;the Senior citizen center. It serves noon meals to nearly 100 each day in this town of just over 650, - almost as many meals as the entire k - 12 school 2 blocks away.

A bit further along one encounters a restaurant. Inside, it is long and narrow with 6 booths on one side and a 14 foot long counter on the other. Squeezed in the middle, separating the two, is one large round wooden table with its 6 mismatched wooden chairs. This is the unofficial 9:00 A.M. meeting place of the town fathers - average age 68. This restaurant

(the only one left in town,) is open from 6 in the morning until 7 at night - but, on game nights, if the local team is playing in town, it‚stays open until 10.

 Next door is the local improvement association liquor store. Its profits furnish 75% of the town's operating budget.  

 Across the street is the bakery,butcher shop, grocery store and video rental place; small and all in one! It was donated to the town by a local compassionate farmer who couldn't stand it when the local Super Value grocery store succumbed to the Kmarts, WalMarts and Target stores in the larger cities nearby. It has two check out lanes - one of which is used to store its four shopping carts. There are no longer any waiting lines.

 A sad picture? Perhaps. However it's the people that make or break a place and it's these individuals and their faces that I remember most. Prominent is the face of the fire chief, Police chief and the head of the street maintenance department. In addition to these he has other responsibilities such as boy scout leader and little league baseball coach. He is only one of many good people who attend every event that the largest business in town, the school, has to offer. It is their entertainment for the week. At the beginning of each game, when the Stars Spangled Banner is played, they all stand, hats doffed, hands over their

hearts with their backs straight as an arrow and listen intently, proudly and solemnly to the entire anthem. They would think it rude and disrespectful to add words or interject shouts at the end.

 My mother lived in this neighborly town for over 86 years,- The last 14 of those by herself in a mobile home. There were numerous storms and lots of snow over those years. She was never snowed in for more than a day however, because a friendly neighbor would always come by and dig her out. Therefore, she seldom missed her daily trek to the restaurant to have her 9 o'clock coffee with "the girls". At age 86 she was one of the younger ones in her group.  

The residents of my old home town can count on the honesty of its citizens. I recall, for instance, the time my mom misplaced her car keys for two days only to find them in the ignition of her unlocked car that was sitting on the street in front of her house. At the local golf course one pays his fees by sticking the money into an envelope and leaving it in an unlocked box next to the first tee.

 This predominately senior population maintains the old values and traditions. Each night at 6:00 P.M. the shrill sound of the fire whistle alerts every resident in town that the businesses are closing for the day. It also reminds the children that it is time to scurry home for supper from the far reaches of the 8 square blocks that make up their town. Three hours later, at 9:00 P.M., the whistle blows again. This time it is a reminder that it is curfew time for the youngsters.

"Little good can come from staying out later than this."

________________________________________________

Red River Valley

Lee Murdock

Teacher Submission

Grand Forks Central High School

THE PRIVATE PATH AND SLOP PAIL

Any one who has lived in North Dakota for a complete change of seasons knows the when and where danger of frost bite. Therefore, we dress accordingly in winter to assure ourselves that we will survive the winter with all of our appendages intact. As I recall from my youth, I harbored illogical fears regarding this and other maladies in connection with what my mother referred to as our "Private Path". Others had less dainty names for it . Some called it the "out house", some the  "out door biffy" and others, of much courser up bringing (according to my mother) the "dumpster".  For those of you who have never had the "pleasure",  picture  a structure roughly the size of an Ice fishing house hewn from unpainted, mismatched wood, obviously hastily constructed with no apparent concern to keep out the elements. Ours was hidden ,down wind of the house of course, in a sparse patch of trees which kept it veiled in a foreboding twilight. On the inside, boxed in along the wall opposite the ill hung door sat a cold, splintery plank. The plank featured three equally spaced, butt sized, holes and placed up off of the floor at the height of a good squat!.

I remember that when "nature called"  mom would bundle me up in a heavy coat, ear lapped cap, buckle down boots, mittens and wool scarf over the top of my sweater, shirt, jeans, and long underwear - all to ward off the subzero cold. Then she would grab my hand and we would trudge up the "Private Path". Once there she would unceremoniously and with little concern, help me doff my britches and cautiously arrange my bare bottom over one of the three holes. To this day I cannot understand the logic in wearing all those clothes to keep warm and then exposing one's most private parts to the ravages of nature. Perhaps that activity, reinforced by my remembrances of seeing icicles hanging from eaves and how easily they broke off, contributed to my fear of "the Private Path".

As I recall the danger of frostbite and the related image of dropping icicles was not the only factor that contributed to my ear of the Private path. Perhaps it was the fact that the bowels of our dilapidated old granary nearby was home to scores of rats. But, whatever the case, as long as I can recall I feared the presence of some vicious saber tooth rodent waiting quietly in the bowels of our biffy. Let me tell you that the image of a fanged rodent swinging trapeze like from the end of ones most private part can cause much more shrinkage than is experienced by the most ardent member of a Polar Bear club.

 And so, for years, each time I answered the call I would cautiously maneuver my head through the hole and, with the  pungent odors wafting around my head, proceed to check out the far corners for any lurking rodents.

 I remember, I always used the middle hole thinking that, If I missed seeing him, the prospect of the toxic journey from the far corner reaches might discourage any aspiring rodent gymnast. I realize now that my concerns were illogical but fear has a way of crowding logic into the inaccessible corners of one's mind.

 Many dreaded the minus 20's and 30's of those child hood years but I loved them for it meant a short hiatus from trips up the Path. However, it did mean that we used a "Slop  Pail" instead. This infamous pail stood across the room from the huge old pot belly stove that inhabited our kitchen. This location was ,I suppose, a logical choice since certainly

one would not have wanted to warm its aromatic contents. Our slop pail had originally been a 5 gallon black bulk  grease pail with "Farmers Union" emblazoned on the side, that, when emptied, had been cleaned up and used as a pail to slop the hogs. It originally had had the type of  top that had to be removed by wedging a screw driver in and bending up dozens of little metal notches all around the circumference of the lid. These little metal notches remained - just bent down slightly so that they wouldn't draw blood when you sat down. In most farm homes these slop pails were fitted with a modern commode seat purchased from the local hardware store in town. But, as memory serves me, ours was not. Perhaps dad didn't think we needed such a silly, sissy thing or perhaps that was considered an unnecessary expense in those financially lean years. Whatever the reason, for much of the dead of winter, our family shared more than a ring around the collar.

 With all this in mind it‚s no wonder then that one of the happiest remembrances of my youth is of the day that the Private Path and the Slop pail were retired for the luxury of indoor plumbing and a flush toilet. As one would expect it did nullify my illogical fears. But, It is my belief that I still carry a remnant of my Private Path and Slop Pail fears and

experiences, for to this day, I have a constant on-going battle with chronic constipation.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sondra Lee

Teacher Submission

Fergus Falls Middle School

Camouflaged Perspective

I sprint to my country home that hugs the winding gravel road.

The ditch dances tall with grass, which the tractor has not yet mowed.

When it's fall and the leaves mature into colorful, shimmering jewels;

The air sometimes kisses...but then, it bites, and breaks the rules!

My world gets dark and sleepy...Now, the Winter Monster has come!

I shudder at it's howling from my safe and cozy home.

Soon, my heart tastes spring buds, ready to be revived.

The rainbows forecast all the colors that soon will come alive.

The sweltering summer heat is exhaled by the tar;

But, at night, the cool breeze whispers as it wakes up every star.

Mother Nature is part of me, and she is here within my heart.

She loves, scares, and energizes me, and can calm my every part.

I fit just like a puzzle piece in this fierce, yet gentle state.

For God made me, the Minnesota Gopher, to be curious, strong, and GREAT!

______________________

Red River Valley

Brett Lysne

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

The Colors of Our Land

Summer is special to our fertile land

She comes with a certain joy

The golden wheat flows in her mysterious winds

A cloud of dirty beige sweeps across a gravel road

One cannot hid from the deep, living greens

Rippling ponds reflect the sapphire shades of her sky

Faces are tanned and freckled by the maize-tinted sun

She brings warm colors

Autumn fades in, sometimes unnoticed

She comes with a calming effect

The ever-important harvest reveals golden corn and wheat

The radiating glow of jack-o-lanterns pierces the black of night

Leaves turn to peaceful hues, and spiral in her breeze

The sky is a serene cerulean tint, dotted by clouds of pale grays

Occasional silver snowflakes remind us of what's to come

She brings peaceful colors

Winter shows up, though she is no stranger to us

She comes with mixed feelings

Harsh colds match her lifeless, dreary grays

Dirty snow plagues the city streets

She leaves silver frost at the window pane

Crystal-like icicles reflect and refract the glowing white sun

Pale grass is found beneath the tiding amounts of snow

She brings sullen colors

Spring arrives, after what seems like a lifetime

She brings a new beginning

The fresh, translucent air is filled with thick, pearly clouds

Flowers bloom in every imaginable hue

Her invisible breeze carries colorful scents

Pale green seedling puncture black fields of dirt

A rainbow can be spotted after a calming shower

She brings living colors

______________________

Red River Valley

Nicole Wagner

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

This Is a Part of Me

This is where I have grown up

And this is where I'll probably die

But in the time between those two

I can't forget and let life pass me by

And though this is what I am

I won't let this describe who I'll be

Learning and living from these ways

My land is a part of me

In my heart I still swing on the tire

That my dad tied around our old tree

On the highest of the highest branch

That tire hangs for me

I used to shovel the ditches after it snowed

Just enough so the ice I could barely see

Only so I could skate along side the road

That ice is a part of me

We would clean up branches after a storm

Build a great big fire for all to see

Roast marshmallows and burn our noses

Those bonfires are a part of me

I'd cut the weeds out of our own little forests

Remove all of the shrubs I could see

To travel our own adventures together

Those woods are a part of me

I'd creep up to the silo laughing and scared

And slowly open the door and see

The pigeons swarm out and flutter around

Those birds are a part of me

Early mornings to drive away

Those days where supposed to be me key

To play my game the best I can

Hockey is a part of me

Teaching my brother how to skate

Watching my sister fall free

Teaching my dad to play my game

My family is a part of me

Driving to school every day

Sometimes only to see

My friends, my teachers, my work I've done

My school is a part of me

Since I was little I wanted to leave

This land that has made me to be me

But now that I know and now that I think

I can understand my foolish ways, and now I can finally see

That this rural life is the life for me.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kari Olson

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

Small Town

Nothing to do

Nowhere to go

The time goes by so slow

Nothing new ever happens

Everything is always the same

Everybody knows everybody else's name

The winters are too long

Too cold, too much snow

When it storms and the cold wind blows

Driving around uptown in a circle

Over and over again

It gets so boring, but there is nothing to do instead

This town is so boring and small

I can't wait until my school years are done

And I can move to somewhere that is more fun

______________________

Red River Valley

Ashley Persson

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

My Life

I live a life of late to bed, and early to rise

Of repelling mosquito and swatting flies

Of flooded ditches when it rains and fields of

Grass harvest beats are meant to last

Of shrubs frown long and dusty country roads

Of fishing, hunting and jumping toads

Of family reunions and 12 acre lawns

Of 10 p.m. dusks and 5:30 dawns

Of faded red barns that have no use

Of a field of many deer, and the occasionally goose

I live in a place where snow angels are made and frostbite is well known.

Racing snowmobiles in ditches all night long

Of 2 hour bus rides just to get to school and back home

Of gravel roads and old wooden tools

Of counting stars and knowing which is the big dipper

Of chicken noodle soup with a homemade flavor

Of canning garden vegetables and picking the fruits

Tearing down the old school with some type of levy

I live with pick-up trucks and four wheelers

High winds and hot weather and skies that are blue

I love of ice and of mittens with holes in the palm

And trying to play when the weather is calm.

Of paddling your fishing boat when the motor has died

Roasting some hot dogs and deep frying french fries

Swimming in lakes, trailing through woods

Making up fishing stories, and making them sound good

Skating on pond, temp well below.

Playing our home town sports and showing that

CHS school pride. This is what I do

This is the life that I live, in Crookston Minnesota.

______________________

Red River Valley

Emily Meyer

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

My Home

I live in the country where the tall grass sways in the wind.

Where farmers live by the law early to rise, late to bed.

The roads do not swarm with modern city cars, but instead are filled with combines, tractors, and old rusty pickup trucks.

Where neighbors are like family calling for a cup of sugar or three eggs for their cake.

Where you wake to the sound of birds chirping in the trees and fall asleep to the sound of the howling coyotes.

Where we anxiously wait for our ride in the combine or the bumpy journey to the beet plant.

Where it is safe to chase tornadoes and play in the rain until midnight.

Where we warm our cheeks and toes by the fire after playing all day in the snow.

Where everyday is a new adventure, this is my home.

______________________

Red River Valley

Stacey Coavette

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

Snow Day

Snow Day! In Minnesota, a day off from school, because of snow, is not unusual. Minnesota students generally have many days off between October and march, when they can stay home and relax because of the snow.

When a winter storm is predicted, it isn't long before everyone knows of, and wishes for the predicted blizzard. Children suddenly become interested in the Weather Channel and as soon as the snow starts to fall, many people turn on the TV or radio, to listen for school cancellations or postponements.

Once the news has come, if it is good, everyone is excited. Kids start calling their friends to make sure they know of the "snow day." But sometimes the news isn't so great and many people are disappointed, everyone was psyched for a snow day and it never happened.

Regardless of the news, everyone's mood is changed, whether it be to happy, sad, mad, or disappointed. Either way, we generally have plenty of snow to keep us happy all winter long, so we can enjoy all the fun snow activities.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kim Johnson

Teacher Submission

Valley Middle School

Kamikaze Orange Plastic Sled

A teacher colleague and I, now in our early twenties, felt the need to relive our childhood on a kamikaze orange plastic sled.

Most of the snow had melted in unseasonably warm weather, leaving the only hill in eastern North Dakota covered by a thin layer of ice.  There was no snow to absorb the impact of frozen ground on rear end;  only ice enough to send the plastic sled whistling down the brown hill.

I remember no scenery--just blurs.  I remember not being able to breathe;  the cold air rushing into my nostrils complicated exhalation.  We speed too quickly for my life to flash before my eyes, though there is enough time to wish the ride could be over.

There are tiny wooden posts at the bottom and I wonder if they will hurt. We're on flat ground now and those little posts are lined up like small soldiers, marching toward us.  Or is it we who are approaching them?

We gasp but no screams will leave our mouths;  they're blocked in by the rushing wind.  As we ride nearer to those posts I wonder if reliving my childhood will end my adult life.  And the kamikaze orange plastic sled whistles on.

______________________

Red River Valley

Megan Kvasager

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

A North Dakota Winter

Blizzard Hannah arrived April 5 and 6 of 1997, the worst of eight blizzards that ravaged the Grand forks area that winter.  More than a foot of ice and snow blanketed our city.  Many people were left in the cold, without electricity.   Some for more than a week when power lines toppled heavy with ice.

When my family first heard the warnings on television, we didn't think it would be as serious as it was.  Often times in North Dakota winters, there are warnings that turn out not so bad.  But much to our surprise, this one rang true and we were stuck without electricity.  Luckily, my dad had a kerosene heater that provided enough heat for us.  We had candles lit all over the house so we could see. 

For me this was a bright side to this dark storm.  I was happy to get out of school for a few days.  Also, I got to spend some close time with my parents playing cards and games by candlelight.

______________________

Red River Valley

Melissa Estrada

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

I'm Cold

I'm cold can you tell

my lips are turning blue and purple

my ears are getting red, really red.

Still cold can you tell,

I'm shivering more, even more than before

my fingertips feel dead.

My toes I can't feel them,

the snow against my gloves.

Snowballs all around get down smack smack,

I'm hit my cheeks are red bright red.

Still cold can you tell.

This is winters in North Dakota.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jeremy Qualley

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

The Flood

I hear on the T.V. the man talking about the water. My mom says "It's time to go to bed, Jeremy." Later in the night I am startled by my mom and grandma rushing to get what they can. My mom comes into my room and wakes me up. I can here my mom talking to my grandma saying, "The water is coming, the dikes have broke!"  We take our pre-packed bags and run for the car. As we run to the car we don't even stop to think that we won't see our house for the next three and a half months. Dad  has called; he is helping evacuate the people of Grand Forks. When we are on the road I ask, "Mom, where are we going?" My mom says, "We are going to Aunty Nancy's."

An hour later we arrive in Hillsboro where my aunt Nancy is waiting outside her trailer where she has a bed and everything set up for us in her back bedroom. Two and a half weeks later and I only think I am at a sleep over. We have to leave Hillsboro and meet my dad twelve miles out of Grand Forks at my uncle's farm. We left on a Tuesday and ended up at my uncles two and a half weeks later. They closed the Kennedy Bridge so we had to go through Bemidji, Minnesota, and around to Grand Forks.

While we stayed in Bemidji, my little brother needs to get his cast off. When we go to the bank to get some money we asked the young man at the counter how do we get to the

hospital? The young man replies, "I am taking a lunch break and am going right by there. Just follow me." We thank him gratefully. When we get to the hospital the cast is taken off and we leave. When we are done with that we go to the nearest Target Store and try to buy my brother some shoes, shampoo, soap, and an atlas. When we get to the counter we set the things on the counter. The man says the amount. "Are you sure?" my mom

asks. "Well I have the credit card number? Will that work?"  "I can ask the manager, but I doubt it will work," said the man at the counter. A few minutes later the man returns and says "we will not allow you to use the credit card number" he says. When I look up at my mom she is crying. I ask her, "What is wrong, mommy?" "Nothing, everything

is all right," she says. The man behind us in line asks "are you all right

mama?"

"Are you from Grand Forks?" "Yes,"  my mom replies. The man says I will pay for your items. "Thank you so much," says my mom. As soon as we leave there we are on our way. I have to read the road map for my mom, then we are on our way to my uncle's farm. We drive for the next four and a half hours tell we finally arrive at my uncles. We are greeted by my dad, my cousins who are also victims of the flood, and finally we are greeted by my uncle who owns the farm. For the next three and a half weeks we just hang out around the farm 'till the day of our return to our house. When we get there we find nothing but trash and debris from peoples basements. The Red Cross truck is up and down alleys and streets giving free lunches. I feel nothing but confusion, sadness, and anger.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kasha Zolondek

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

I Am From

I am from a place most people would probably hate to live, a place nobody would ever dream of living. It is a cold and icy winter and a hot and humid summer. In the fall the leaves are brown, yellow, and orange. The kids like to play and jump around in the piles of leaves.

 I am from a family where family values are very important. I am from a family that is all Norwegian and a little Polish. I am from a family that knows everything about everyone else. I am from a family where we like to get all of our relatives together for a big family reunion. People who haven't seen us since we were babies would come up to us and give us a big hug and say "Oh! Well isn't she just a little darlin!" or "I  haven't seen you since you were just a itty bitty baby!" and I can hardly wait till I graduate, because I am almost sure my long lost relatives will come and say "Oh your gettin‚ so big!" or "It seems like yesterday I was changing your diaper!" I can hardly wait!

I am from a place I love and a family I belong to and I could never ask to change the way my life is.

______________________

Red River Valley

Dan Christianson

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Trottier)

North Dakota

(To the tune of "Oklahoma")

Noooooooorth Dakota were the snow comes sweeping down the field, and the slipry' street can slide my feet, where the wind comes right behind the snooow.

Nooooooooorth Dakota every night it's ten degrees below.  Sit alone and sew and watch some snow making lazy circles in the sky. We know we belong to the land,and the land we belong to is neat,  and the beets we grow here are sweet. So when we say                                         

 "Yasureyubetchaden"

We're saying you're doing fine North Dakota, No-rth-dak-ota.

_______________

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 2

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Brita Bostad

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Trottier)

The Country Road

My grandpa and I sit in the rattling pick-up on our way to the farm. Gravel hits the side of the pick-up. Dust fills the air. I look out the window and see endless fields of wheat. I can smell the sugar beets. (Man do they stink!) In the distance, I spot a deer running across the road and begin to graze in the ditch. As the sun sets we drive up to the small but sturdy farmhouse surrounded by clumps of trees. Home Again.

______________________

Red River Valley

McKenzie Schneider

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Trottier)

Our Land, North Dakota

My land is cold with blustery winds that bite my nose with its ancient secret.

When I go outside I hear the Spirit calling my name.

The evergreen trees are whispering about the quiet outdoors.

Gun Shots from the hunters traveling through the tall grass.

It's life or death for the animals.

Our Red River pouring over our Dakota territory.

Rushing across the gravel roads flooding the streets.

Everyone shoving to different places.

Summers hot but not blazing just gentle winds blowing about.

Sun roofs go up speeding down the country side.

Your hair flying everywhere you feel so free.

Birds flying in flocks across the sky.

Still quiet no squeak, no peep, no voice, no nothing.

______________________

Red River Valley

Nick Johnston

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Trottier)

Grand Forks the Real Badlands

Look up, higher, nana still higher. Yea. you see blue.

Not New York yellow but Grand Forks blue.

Ahhhhhh, smell the sweet flowers.

You go out to the porch and look left.

Ohhhhhhh, a train.

Just look at the pattern of blue blue blue green red green gray blue

orange, they stopped, they're turning around, here we go,

orange blue gray green red green blue blue blue. Cool.

Well, you look right, you see sweet fifty acres, all yours, yours and pa's.

Oh! you look ahead and see cows, sheep, and horses grazing in the pasture.

You hear a noise, you jump, oh, it's a rabbit.

Ahhh you can sit back and relax with your dog.

You skrach his head, smooth, soft, and cuddly fur.

You go out back.

There are raccoons snoopen around, and you don't bother to chase em, there's nothen round here and if there is let em have it,

mmmm, they are cute all black, white, and gray.

Ahhhhh time for bed we'll have fun tomorrow.

______________________

Red River Valley

Colette Gierszewski

Teacher Submission

Ben Franklin Elementary

My Father's Worry Stone

I found it in the drawer

among the many leftovers

of my father's life,

My father's worry stone.

It was lying there,

gray with trailings of white,

flat, oval, smooth - cool to the touch

It had been created with a dip in it,

a place for a thumb,

a place to worry.

It was a small item,

seemingly unimportant

but bringing back a flood of memories.

The memory of a man,

a FATHER, larger than life,

Almost 6' 4'' when standing.

A man so full of life,

the energy surrounding him

was contagious to others.

A man sitting in a wheelchair,

cut down in the prime of his life

by a cruel and meaningless accident.

Despair could have clouded his life

and therefore his family's,

but he chose to continue to live it fully.

With a gusto he lived it, driving the pickup,

pushing snow out of the farm yard on the tractor,

harvesting the wheat with the combine.

He needed to be in continuous motion,

but the chair became reality at times.

It was down time, wait time.

The importance of the worry stone

would then become very clear,

as it was called into service.

He would sit - patiently

and wait,

his hand in constant motion on the stone.

I found it in the drawer

among the many leftovers

of my father's life.

My father's worry stone.

I picked it up with the satisfaction of knowing that in death

he was free to enjoy the movement denied him.

He was now again, walking tall.

______________________

Red River Valley

Shayna DuBois

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Gierszewski)

I Am From the Prairie

I am from the prairie, the big open fields, the sweet smelling air, and the good frybread. I am from my aunties house where the horses roam in the fields.  I am from my auntie naming me and my sister holding me when I came home from the hospital.  I am from the wide lakes where I go camping, the long canoe rides I go on every time I go camping.  I am from the funerals of my relatives and my parents supporting me.  I am from my cats playing, getting new clothes and my dad teaching me sign language.  I am from the cold windy days that winter brings, the hot days in the summer, the cute bunnies hopping in my backyard. That was my life and this is my story.

______________________

Red River Valley

Brandon Hodek

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Gierszewski)

The Rifle

When day breaks I run to the shop. I grab my Grandpa Jerome's Winchester .22 rifle. I tell his kittens I'm going to shoot 'em a bird off the wire. So I take the four-wheeler out to the good spot take aim and KAPEWWW!! The bird fell into the ditch and I went and picked it up. I brought it to the shop and gave it to the kittens and they devoured it. Then I put the gun away, left the shop, and went back inside.

______________________

Red River Valley

Greta Lund

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Gierszewski)

I Am

I am the cow at my grandpa's farm

following my mom and dad's footsteps.

I am from the cinnamon rolls

that my dad makes every Sunday before church.

I am from my mom telling me

how I got my first and middle name.

I am the car that my dad

takes me to hockey in.

I am from the computer

that I look up research on.

I am the foster children

coming in and out of my life.

I am the driveway

where wheels roll every day.

I am from the piano

played by everyone that has

come into my house.

I am the cow at my grandpa's farm

following my mom and dad's footsteps.

______________________

Red River Valley

Josh Stamness

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Gierszewski)

That Special Turtle

One snapping turtle in the English coolie brings back a lot of memories from my past.  I remember the time when she grabbed my bait on my rod and went far under the water.  I was fighting her for hours until I saw her. She was the biggest turtle I've ever seen.  She was as wide as a kettle and as fat as a tub .  Then she snapped my line.  I saw her the next summer and she was just as monstrous as before.  I almost caught her but she barely got away.  I saw a small cute snapping turtle the next spring.  I suspected it was hers.  I saw her last summer and I haven't seen her since.  I hope I see her again,  so my kids can experience the thrill of seeing that one special turtle generation after generation.

______________________

Red River Valley

Lori Fossum

Teacher Submission

UND/Red River High School

Rural Route 1

As a child growing up in rural North Dakota, the mailbox represented anticipation, hope, and excitement to me. The arrival of the mail and the sighting of Mailman Jim's low slung sedan cruising down the hill from the neighbor's house thrilled me every time I happened to see it. Some days I would carefully make my way to the mailbox on my bike, avoiding and loosest and rockiest of the gravel, in order to meet Mailman Jim as he made the delivery.

Jim always carried a stash of Certs in his glove box and would present me one almost without fail. I don't even think he would ask me if I wanted one because he could see the longing in my silence and in my eyes. If he had asked, I would have been too shy to accept. And oh, how exciting it was to have that cool, smoothly rounded Cert with the little specks of flitter in my hand. I just liked to hold it and feel it skim across my palm before savoring both its flavor and the feeling that I was somehow special. Sometimes Jim would have fruit flavored Certs, but mostly he would carry the mint flavored kind. Like Jim, I tended to prefer the peppermint ones and find them infinitely more satisfying than the fruity ones still to this day. Sometimes Jim wouldn't have any Certs along at all, or worse yet, he'd have only one Cert left and both my sister and me waiting for him at the mailbox, anticipation lighting up our faces. Fortunately, however, that was a rare occasion and he always promised to have Certs next time if we, or I, would only show up again to see him. So Jim was there with a smile, the mail, and the promise to have Certs at our next meeting. He was always punctual and never let me down, but I, too, was careful not to take advantage of him by demanding attention with my presence on a daily basis. Instead, I would stagger my rides to the mailbox or would only go if I were expecting something in particular. I suppose my parents admonished me to leave Jim alone to do his job and not to be selfish with Jim's generosity. But they didn't understand that getting the mail was special to me in a different way than it was for them.

Everyone said you could set your watch to Jim coming down the road, and I believed it. Jim's car fascinated me because the back seat was full of mail arranged in some sort of order, I guessed, so it would be easy for Jim to reach back, retrieve and place the mail in the box in one sweeping motion. If Jim had accidentally stuffed our box with someone's letters, we couldn't help but know a little more than we should have. Fortunately, Jim didn't make mistakes when sorting and delivering the mail. Somewhere along the way, I transferred my love of the mail to Jim as the messenger, and that's OK, I suppose, because he treated me so kindly and respectfully, even though I was just a scrawny farm kid perched on a ridiculous-looking banana seat.

The messages of the mail, of course, I came to love more than the anticipation of its arrival, the promise of a surprise and kindly Jim. I began to understand that getting the mail was a big event when I realized that the mail that came for me had my name on it. Sometimes it would be addressed to me in care of my dad. And sometimes his name would be misspelled, but mine never was. The fact that I, an anonymous face to a name on a package or letter, could receive something with the sanctity of privacy and speed even though I was in elementary school, amazed me. Did I deserve such a privilege?

I still love to get the mail and I still feel a welling of emotion as the mailbox greets me on my way into the farmyard. That box reminds me of privileges more profound than the daily mail. It whispers that I am lucky to have grown up surrounded by the calling of the winds, the serenity of isolation and the security of abundance. The mailbox marks my sense of place as more than just RR 1, Box 54, and I am grateful.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jake Borgstrom

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Smith)

I'm From

I'm from a place where everything is flat. 

Where no buildings slice through the sky. 

I'm from a city were everyone is friendly,

and no traffic jams shatter the birds sweet singing. 

A place where the air is clean, the sky blue,

and the grass bright green.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sam Reich

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Smith)

Grand Forks

I am from a place where you can see for miles and miles of absolutely nothing. 

Where hills and mountains disappear and flat lands fills in. 

This place is filled with the good and the bad things of life. 

Like the days of playing and coming home to a delicious barbecue with my sister mom and dad. 

But when the warm sun goes away fewer children begin to play, for freezing winter takes summer's place.

And children bundle up in the middle of the day so they may go out to play. 

I walk down the street and see snowmen, forts, and children skating. 

This place that I live is Grand Forks.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jewel Uhrich

5th grader

Ben Franklin Elementary (Smith)

Where I'm From

I'm from Red River Valley. 

Simplot and the sugar beat factory smell.

They smell like rotten eggs. 

When I go outside, I want to walk right back inside.    

I wonder where it is coming from?

Where is it? 

Have you ever wondered when you eat french fries why they don't smell bad?

Or why when you have sugar,

why it doesn't smell?  It tastes sweet.                    

I don't care

if it smells, but it's my hometown

Grand Forks ND.

______________________

Red River Valley

Nancy Devine

Teacher Submission

Grand Forks Central High

The Sky

Why do I stay in North Dakota, a state known mostly to the outside world as the haunt of ice storms and blizzards, of winds that uproot trees and of floods, a veritable ancient Egypt upon which Mother Nature visits all manner of plague she can concoct? Sometimes, I think she and all the gods-a who's who of world mythology from ancient times to present-hang and brainstorm bad weather ideas on a huge celestial chalkboard trying to figure out just what exactly will drive us from this state.

I did leave for a while, did a two-year stint teaching in the San Joaquin Valley of California. But, I couldn't get used to it, was hemmed in by the mountains surrounding me. And I knew that I, unlike the many who leave and never return to North Dakota, would have to spend most of my time here because, of all things, the sky-vast, clean, unencumbered, as close to infinity as anything I'll ever know.

Montana is big sky country, North Dakota unending sky country because of the flat terrain. This state is so flat, according to a visiting comedian, that you can watch your dog runaway here for days. It is so flat that the sky, not the ground upon which we tread, is our landscape, where many of us really live.

The sky here stretches far beyond the borders of the state, beyond the borders of America, even, and beyond, over the amalgam of people, animal and plant life, and topography that is earth, and when I stand beneath the North Dakota sky, I see that expanse, feel it, am connected to all of it in a way that I have experienced in no other place I have been. It is what defines me as a North Dakotan; it might be my soul.

Sometimes, I find myself searching the sky for my dad. Certainly it's a remnant of my Christian upbringing to tenant the heavens with the deceased, and I know he's not really there. Yet, I cannot help but believe that when I look up toward the west on a late January afternoon that the essence of my dad isn't somehow there, commingling with the swaths of pink and lavender light which flow in and out of one another like a watercolor above, the last glow beyond a scrim of orange sunset before nightfall. Bare-branched, winter trees frame an uncluttered view of that sky, their dark and spindly boughs pointing up as if to say, "look, just look!"

And I am looking up, looking up because everything is in the North Dakota sky, I tell you, even the answers to the questions we're waiting to consider.

______________________

Red River Valley

Grant Bouley

12th Grader

Grand Forks Central High (Devine)

After School Cookies

Unless you went to her house to listen to her stories of the past or catch a quick glimpse of her working in her flower gardens in her backyard, you would never see her. The only other place that you could see her was at her front door, her presence cheerful, her smile joy-filled, handing out cookies to students after school on their way home.

With minutes to go, the students ever so carefully watched the clock at the front of the classroom tick down to three o' clock. Finally after six long hours of teachers, studying, and homework, students began their journey home. Students came to house number 212, a little white house with red trim and a short white fence running along side of it, occupied by the "Cookie Lady." As the students approached the front door they were greeted by this old lady, her wrinkled face, her white curly hair, kind of like their neighborhood grandma figure spoiling her grandkids in Riverside neighborhood.

Originally slated to be the site for the University of North Dakota, Riverside neighborhood is one of the oldest  neighborhoods in Grand Forks, dating back to the early 1880's. In the 1930's, President Roosevelt's Work Projects Administration built Riverside Pool, one of the two city pools in Grand Forks. Even though the trolleys stopped running in the 30's you can still see remains of their tracks on the granitoid streets running throughout the neighborhood where Ruthy Montgomery, the Cookie Lady, lived.

She always told you about the past and the story of her family moving to North Dakota when she was a little girl or brag to you about how she was the oldest resident of the Riverside Neighborhood or the person that had lived in Riverside the longest. You got get a phone call from her on your birthday. She sang to you while playing her organ, leaving you wondering how she knew.

For over fifty years, starting with freshly baked cookies moving into store bought, either way, everyday after school, students were greeted, with cookies in hand by the most the fabulous lady in the Riverside neighborhood.

______________________

Red River Valley

Beth Carlson

Teacher Submission

Grand Forks Central High

Where Have All My Neighbors Gone?

I used to have some neighbors and could see their yard lights on

Now, I look out through my window and wonder where where they've gone

Did they leave to find their fortunes? Will they be back one day?

I don't know when it happened; it's really hard to say.

While I miss familiar neighbors, nothing 'else' I know

Without this farm, my homestead, the owner of my soul

Our children have all headed out to dreams 'all their own'

Grown up and on their way; we stay in touch by phone.

My dog can't run to greet me, or announce a passerby

We're quite the pair together as we watch that darkened sky

Now and then the kids come out, on a sunny summer day

Escapees from that city life, still...they seldom ever stay

Before they return to what's defined as 'progress; a better way'

Wistfully, they walk in meadows where as children they once played

While they tread upon the grasses, wildflowers beneath their feet

I admire those cheery voices, youthful laughter, oh so sweet

As they drive away, I find that is oh so quiet once more

Budging me to seek solace as I head back out the door

I walk the prairie slowly, and not reminders everywhere

Across the field is our family church, with kinfolk resting there

I see the land that has provided; rough beauty all around

The farmstead that's been my lifetime; contentment I have found

For even in the unplowed land, where nothing much can grow

In the stillness of that fallow ground, there's wildlife below

There's no such thing as wasteland;

God's creatures are harbored there

It was his own intention, that man and beast would share

I've accepted my place in history, the plan God must have had

That I work the land he's lent to me while

He provides our daily bread

My heart is thankful as I return to the home that has sheltered me

Guided by the evening sunset as a daily tapestry

Each day I've been awakened, and I hope for many more

As the eastern sky reveals a well-worn path to daily chores

As I work, I think of our dear children,

And home we have planted the seed

That they should live in harmony with God's Master plan to heed

May they find each path He's carved for them and, remember what is best

Live the life they have been given, yet remember...they are blessed

When as elders they do travel to this old farm once more

I imagine 'eyes of wonder', as it's all lit up, restored

This land will nurture families and have neighbors right nearby

Along with 'farmer guardians' amidst the twinkling sky

__________

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 3

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jason Yelvington

11th grader

Grand Forks Central High (Devine)

Kelly's Slough

A few miles out of Grand Forks, located down a bare dirt road, is a wildlife reserve and observation area. The best times to go are cloudy, quiet days-when the sky is drooping closer and closer to the earth, saturated to maximum capacity with rainwater. This place is called Kelly's Slough, where the birds soar freely without human restraint. The ducks swim in graceful rows underneath the brooding cloud cover, leaving the ugly runt in their wake.

The birds have run out of places to go, their territory taken by agriculture and urbanization. The slough is place for these wild angels to take flight once again like they did when the Great Plains were still wild and open prairies inhabited by grasses and buffalo and Native Americans living in cooperation with the rest of the animals, as part of the great food chain. Today the walls are closing in on the wild, the world being tamed by man and his machines.

But here in this hidden haven, the wild still rules, the black night is cut only by moon and star light. Over the pond one can see the reflection of the dark speckled sky, and owls sound their interrogation calls through the cool, clear North Dakota countryside. Nature tells her tales of irony and mercy, and paints her landscape with utmost skill in the slough, capturing the beauty of her majesty in the grasses and creatures that inhabit the reserve.

The dark night air smells like fresh grass and the breeze hums mantras in the trees. At night it is best to visit when the sky is clear so all the stars are visible and the moon's pale face can be seen, illuminating the countryside. There is something enlightening about a place like this, something different than the lessons that come in words and numbers.

Blue herons, pintails, and wood ducks are all residents of the slough, along with deer and jackrabbits and lonely bird watchers. The spirit of the place is in the bird calls and wind and waves of grass. Whether you see God in it or not, there is no denying the presence of energy from something greater than mankind in the air at Kelly's Slough. The geese, herons, and people all speak fluently a common language, deeper than words or thoughts.

The preservation of places like this is key for the survival of this wise, untamed energy. This is how the Great Plains were meant to be experienced, not from the outside, but man and beast together, parts of the same system.. Kelly's Slough is a gift, a view of the past, of the history of life on the prairie.

______________________

Red River Valley

Anthony Vigness

12th grader

Grand Forks Central High (Devine)

Trailer Park Childhood

Double-wide paradise

Skinned knees and broken clavicles

Broken beer bottles in the sandbox

And used one-sies under the swing set

For Pete's sake and God bless America

From my dad's orange '72 Ford pickup

And the family truckster

A white trash utopia

A civilized mind amongst a community of troglodytes

______________________

Red River Valley

Paulina Graf

Teacher Submission

Grand Forks Community High School

He

He came out of McClusky, North Dakota,

a tenacious cluster of lives that painted

today's hearts.

He was the son of the superintendent of schools

who also ran the abstract office and encouraged many

souls to blend their fertile sweat and aspirations into

the soil of the prairie.

He traced steps across the topography of the prairies,

learned the whistle of the gopher, and

studied the beauty of the pheasant,

always curious,

his constant companion, a Scottie a.k.a. Mike.

He lost his father at the age of six;

his mother continued,

alone,

the construction of a man of the prairies.

He became a refuge for three orphaned fox kits.

In his teens,

he moved to Bismarck, ND, for high school.

He turned his passion for invention into

engineering,

patents and law, and

ultimately

three children.

He always believed

his daughter could become anything she wanted,

could do anything from 4-H and raising rabbits

to studying geology, medicine, rosemaling, foreign

languages, and traveling.

He will always have something of the solitary prairie in

his unique character,

something of the resourcefulness of the prairie

salting his blood, punctuated with humor.

He will always be the bold, free beauty of the pheasant

and the vast, pioneer prairie

in me.

He is

my father!

______________________

Red River Valley

Nick Henrickson

11th grader

Grand Forks Community High School (Graf)

My Greatest Fishing Trip

My greatest fishing trip started on the morning of Christmas Eve in 1997.  I came with my two uncles and four cousins to The Lake of the Woods to do  some ice fishing. It was the first week that there was enough ice on the lake to drive a vehicle.  We left at about four in the morning, so we would have more time to fish because we were only going to be up there for the day.  It took about three hours to drive from my Grandpa's farm to the resort.  The sun was just coming up as I could just see the whiteness of the lake. There were seven of us that setup in a caravan on ice that was about a foot and a half thick.  Our fish house was equipped with propane for a heater and stove, and we got  electricity from a car battery for our lights and a radio. Before we unpacked, we drilled eight holes and set our lines in.  One of my uncles cooked up some  bacon and eggs for us for breakfast.  After we ate, we had nothing left to do but fish. 

The first two fish were caught at the same time; this was just the  beginning.   I figured they started to bite about two o'clock.  It was as if all of the fish in the lake were underneath our house.  All of us were pulling up one fish after the other.  After thirty minutes, we had about twenty fish.  I did not think this streak was going to last until I realized it was four o'clock, and we had filled up two five-gallon buckets full of fish.  We had to start throwing

them out the door because we had no place else to put them.  My uncles left to go fillet all of the fish that we had while my cousins and I kept fishing.  We caught more fish than what my uncles left with.  When my uncles got back they could not believe how many fish we caught. At around six o'clock we had to stop  catching them and reel up our lines for good, even though the fish were still biting.  The last fish I caught was a four-pound walleye the biggest fish of the day.  However, if we did not leave, we would not have enough time to fillet all of the remaining fish and still get home.  Altogether, we caught ninety-seven fish that were all  keepers.  That was my greatest fishing trip.

______________________

Red River Valley

Steven Marquart

Teacher Submission

Norman County West High School

Paradelle: Midwest

Something holds us here.

Something holds us here.

Maybe it is the wind, snow, or hoarfrost on trees.

Maybe it is the wind, snow, or hoarfrost on trees.

Snow holds the wind on trees or maybe

Us here. Hoarfrost, something, it is.

You say, it is the friendly people.

You say, it is the friendly people.

I say, it is the loneliness of a flat field.

I say, it is the loneliness of a flat field.

The people say it is you, the field of loneliness.

I say it is a friendly flat.

You worship white churches along country roads.

You worship white churches along country roads.

I prefer barns and outhouses.

I prefer barns and outhouses.

Barns prefer you, churches, and outhouses.

I worship white roads, the country along.

The hoarfrost worships the snow and wind

Along a field. Something holds us.

Maybe it is the country people, outhouses, the friendly roads or

A flat of loneliness. You say I prefer

The worship of barns and churches.

I say it is here, the you of the white.

______________________

Red River Valley

Steven Marquart

Teacher Submission

Norman County West High School

In the Same Boat

Used to be

my dad would take me fishing

on cold mornings in May.

He'd get me out of bed,

cook breakfast,

eggs fried in bacon fat and toast.

He'd pack the gear,

rods, reels,

tackle boxes

bait consisting of leeches,

minnows and worms.

While I wandered around

in the cabin and on the dock

in a half sleep stupor,

he would fire up the boat

and pick the perfect spot

for fishing-

usually the same spot as before.

When we were in the boat,

he would always make sure

I wouldn't get cold

by packing an extra jacket

for me.

And he saw to it that I had root beer

in a cooler

with ham sandwiches

spice bars,

and his cans of beer.

Now, when we fish,

we complain about our wives,

our high blood pressure,

the money market.

When we get thirsty,

we each grab a can of beer

from a cooler

with ham sandwiches.

When the wind picks up,

I dig out his extra jacket,

draping it over his hunched shoulders.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sara Jelliff

Teacher Submission

South Point Elementary School

Where I'm From

I am from the 27th day in the month of February.

I am from my fathers hearty laugh and my moms love for children.

I am from how goods a hug feels and the words I love you sound.

I am from small town Portland

where the six o'clock whistle blows signaling supper time.

I am from a sister who lives to far away and a brother near by.

I am from a family of five who never missed a Sunday meal.

I am from MPCG, "The Comets," and "Home Of the S-I-O-U-X".

I am from 20 devoted years of watching "Days of Our Lives".

I am from Thanksgiving cravings of turkey,

make-ahead mashed potatoes and scalloped corn.

I am from honeymooning in Jamaica with my husband David.

I am from Grace Lake sunsets and reading

on the beach under the sun.

I am from kick ball worn down grass bases.

I am from the never ending hunt for the best buy for my buck.

I am from the magnificent image of the ocean

the first time my eyes laid upon.

I am from after dinner chocolate fixes and the taste of

salt and melted butter on my popcorn.

I am from black licorice stained teeth after a visit

with my Grandma Beck.

I am from Grandma Schultz's Saran and tin foil wrapped

homemade banana bread.

I am from summers spent at Red Willow

and Cooperstown Bible Camp.

I am from seed spitting contests off my deck.

I am from black olives disappearing before Christmas dinner

makes the table.

I am from breast cancer survivors.

______________________

Red River Valley

Bradly Pecka

5th grader

South Point Elementary School (Jelliff)

Where I'm From

I am from my grandpa's farm where fresh harvested straw is my favorite smell.

I am from my grandma's fresh backed buns and cucumbers in cream for almost every meal.

I am from going to the races almost every Friday night.

I am from going to Island Lake watching the sunset, riding jetski, wakeboarding behind the boat and riding fourwheelers on trails.

I am from riding snowcats in the winter as much as I can.

I am from playing basketball in the winter.

I am from cleaning up trees that are five feet around in my woods.

I am from helping my dad work on his semi.

I am from going with my dad on trips in his semi and eating sunflower seeds all day.

I am from drinking my dad's Mountain Dew.

I am from my dog Patches and my cat Mama dying in the same month.

I am from getting a new dog that chews up everything.

I am from my dad bringing home because he hauled for that company.

I am from the small town of Mallory.

______________________

Red River Valley

Macauley Useldinger

5th grader

South Point Elementary School (Jelliff)

Where I'm From

I am from coming home from grandma's house full from homemade brownies and cookies.

I am from waking up every morning to freshly baked pancakes, waffles, and bacon.

I am from going to the outdoor rinks in the morning and staying until close.

I am from dreaming about playing pro hockey.

I am from playing frontyard football every Sunday night with friends.

I am from watching football every Sunday.

I am from my grandma and grandpa dying in the same year.

I am from going to the lake on Friday and coming home on Monday.

I am from driving fourwheelers and motorcycles.

I am from going to the Valley Fair each year.

I am fighting with my brother over Play Station 2 controllers.

I am from playing [?] with brother.

I am from playing my brother in hockey for candy.

I am from small town East Grand Forks and playing baseball in the backyard.

I am from taking my dog for a walk every night.

I am from making Orange Julius every day after school.

I am from spending hot summer days at the lake with friends and family.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sonia Puente

5th grader

South Point Elementary School (Jelliff)

Where I'm From

I am from the tradition of a Quensenera when a girl turns 15.

I am from biting my nails to my nephew screaming anytime he doesn't get his bottle.

I am from December celebrating three holidays, Virgin De Guadalupe, Christmas to New Year's Eve.

I am from Thanksgiving prayers to Spanish and English speaking everywhere.

I am from the coldness of Minnesota to the hotness of Texas.

I am from enchiladas, tacos, and tamales.

I am from Mrs. Lindquist to Mrs. Suda to Mrs. Jelliff.

I am from dancing and singing to Christina Aguilera's cd to "3LW"s.

I am from my dream to become a singer, actress, and model.

I am from going to the cities and Golden Lake.

I am from strawberry sundaes at Dairy Queen and pizza from Pizza Hut.

I am from the flooded streets of East Grand Forks.

I am from my favorite outfit, a sparkly shirt with leather pants.

I am from the most important family and friends.

I am from dancing on stage at Planet Pizza.

I am from going to mall to watching scary mjovies.

I am from a vacation at Disney World to my favorite candy bar Snickers.

I am from drinking Sprite to eating my favorite pickles.

______________________

Red River Valley

Brendan Mochoruk

5th grader

South Point Elementary School (Jelliff)

Where I'm From

I am from moving away from the soft sands and bright green grasses of Winnipeg.

I am from watching the tragic wars of the world.

I am from going on vacation to Minneapolis every year.

I am from going to the lake for Thanksgiving.

I am from learning my first words and taking my first steps.

I am from being Canadian, Italian, and Ukrainian.

I am from hoping for world peace.

I am from loving the colors blue and greem.

I am from riding my bike over all of the jumps in my yard.

I am from eating chocolate ice cream at my grandma's house for dessert.

I am from drinking lemonade in the hot summer.

I am from wanting to be an NHL superstar.

I am from loving big cities.

I am from petting my dog.

I am from listening to my favorite CD, AC/DC Live.

______________________

Red River Valley

Judy Sheridan

Teacher Submission

East Grand Forks Senior High

Memories of Home

Tiny closets, hard wood floors, grandma's piano, one cramped bathroom, sunny windows over the radiator, the old oak by the back door. Grandpa, visiting from New York, once said the gnarled bottom of the oak looked like the toes of an elephant. From diapers to varsity uniforms, from Richard Scarry to Shakespeare, from piano lessons to AC/DC concerts, my family grew and laughed in that house. Through "I hate this bathroom" to "glad  to be home," through new paint and a sagging porch, that house, built in 1900, was always home. Until that April day when the river won the war and water washed through.

When we waded back two weeks later, the old duck hunting decoys sat on the stairs where they had floated, almost to the second story. Grandma's piano was on its back, the encyclopedia had turned from 20 volumes to one stuck-together book three feet thick, the hardwood floors were warped and broken. A bag of marshmallows rested in the sun on the radiator.

Today it's all gone, the land reclaimed by the river. The big oak still stand, its elephant toes near no back door.

______________________

Red River Valley

Alicia Helgeson

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

A Town too Small to Name

Coming back from Grandma's house

After Christmas break

A blizzard blows in quickly

And traps us in a town too small to name

We stay the night

In the Worst hotel

A restless night

A musty smell

The long awaited daylight came

And we were happy to say,

Good-bye

To that town too small to name

______________________

Red River Valley

Tyler Syvertson

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

The Bird with the Second Life

When I was about 15 years old, I went grouse hunting in the fall. I was walking a trail, when I heard a grouse running to the left of me. I looked and I could only see it moving quickly between birch trees. All of a sudden it stopped and I could see it clearly. I pointed my gun at it and fired. So I wandered back to the line of birch trees where I could see it lying on the ground dead. I reached down to pick it up by its neck and the thing bit me. And started pecking my ankles. The grouse then ran about ten more feet. I put another shell in my gun and blew its head off. The grouse wasn't too feisty after that gunshot.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kellie Tice

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

Lassie

In the Blue Boat she rode,

chained for her own safety,

60 miles to the lake,

awaiting the time she could hop out and run.

The time came for the boat to stop,

we weren't at the shores of maple Lake yet,

but rather the old gas station we rarely visited.

In excitement she LEAPS!

thinking the landing sand and grass.

No Landing.

The chain held her back.

Lassie was now a passenger riding on the outside of the blue boat.

The riders of the Chevy went on.

So through the town of Mentor, Lassie hung.

Until the man, and soon to be Lassie's hero, yelled, "Your dog's hanging from the boat!"

Of course it was not the most memorable moment for the talk of the town that day,

but Lassie lived to jump to the sand and chase that blue boat around the shores of Maple Lake.

_______

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 4

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sarah Horken

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

Escape

I'd find myself walking across a field, oblivious to the world behind me, the one I was trying to escape from.

I sometimes would trip due to the uneven clumps of dirt. My dogs would then take the chance to pounce on me in play.

A mile or two later I'd be lying on my back, meditating at the sky and at the stars beyond.

Wondering why everything else was at peace but me.

Just above me were the tall grasses. The cattails, waving gently in the breeze. The vast night, hiding my thoughts with its embrace.

All around me were the aromas of nature. The muskiness of the grasses. The dusty sweetness of the ground. The freshness of the cool air.

Near to me, the sounds of a running creek. The call of the frogs. The silence of the owl. The chime of the wind entangled in the trees. The snoring of wet dogs.

All inside me was at peace.

______________________

Red River Valley

Brandie Lind

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

Little Red Shed

Katie Johnson, my best friend,

we were very young

and mostly barefooted

that's how summer days

found us

in our backyards.

But mostly in the

quaint, Red Shed.

It sheltered us,

we cared for it.

All 3 of us, best friends.

Dandelions and fallen crab apples,

brought in and stored.

Potions made, lunches fixed

and other "meals"

never eaten.

And after a day of going

in and out

our grass stained toes wander back

home and the

little red shed stays

out in the cold.

Days pass and turn to night,

Our summer days fade to

cold fall nights,

and winter comes.

Another year gone by and

our little red shed fades a little more.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kilee Dobogai

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High (Sheridan)

Secret Place

Being a child is to be innocent.

To have fun, friends, special codes,

made up games, the whole world to watch;

and a secret place that is all your own.

My secret place is special.

I wake in the morning,

feel the chill of the lake,

listen to the loons,

watch the sun dance across the waves.

I walk down to the beach and wait patiently for my kid friends.

We'll build funny sand castles,

play Marco Polo,

dive down to the seaweed,

ride the fast bikes off the long dock,

get pulled behind a boat till our bodies are bruised with happiness.

Then the sun starts to set;

a purple, yellow haze

lays quietly above the pine.

I go dry off the lake water,

shower away the fishy smell,

change into warm, old clothes.

The night passes with wood, fire, marshmallows,

exploding pop cans,

music, games, stories,

laughs, jokes, people,

my friends.

Once again the morning rises;

I walk down to the beach,

and no one else comes.

I turn around in circles;

Where is everyone?

I feel different, unsure, scared, and sad;

the secret place is not the same.

I then gaze into the lake,

and see my reflection.

Older, more mature, grown up,

With only memories of childhood left to comfort me.

______________________

Red River Valley

Rachel Mason

Teacher Submission

Northwood High School

Imagination

The dusty red swather

becomes a huge ship

at the wheel

my tan, six year old legs

sticking to the hot, black seat

baking in the bright summer sun

I steer it,

pretending

the grass it's parked on

is a deep, wide green ocean

green waves ahead of me rustling in the warm breeze

The three old, yellow, Minneapolis Moline combines

parked years ago by my grandfather

silently rust in the shelter belt

But for my brother, cousin, and I

they are

transformed

into a fleet of pirate ships

tumbling in the rough prairie wind

Snow piles pushed purposely next to our house

for insulation against the fierce,

piercing blizzards

become our secret fort

we carve steps into the hard, packed snow

and create an emergency slide as we

scoot down, this way and that,

on our behinds.

Snow clumps, carefully positioned as walls

divide up our territory.

A wooden fence over the gully

where rushing water gurgles in the spring

metamorphosizes into the Golden Gate Bridge

as feet, clad in moon boots

lined with bread sacks to keep toes dry

inch across the narrow boards

tiny hands clenched to the posts for balance

I watch

as my brother's homemade boats,

tiny clumps of snow and ice with

twigs stuck in the top for masts,

swirl and tumble in the gushing water

inches beneath me.

______________________

Red River Valley

Meghan Ellingson

11th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Untitled

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why me I ask?

No response.

Everyone's too caught up in being content

To notice what it's really like here

Here in good ol' North Dakota

It's cold, dull, and bleak

Old men sip their coffee

Talking of the weather

Why do they do it?

Why do they talk about the below 0 temperature?

Or the bare trees and ground all around?

Do they want to be depressed?

Will I move somewhere else later on?

Who knows?

Only time will tell, I suppose

I'll, most likely, hang around here for a while

______________________

Red River Valley

Emily Jodock

11th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Good Ol' Norwegian Food

Around here, everyone knows everyone else and who they're related to, and everyone eats lefse. The Norwegians are also accustomed to their meat and potatoes, and meat and potatoes, and meat and potatoes, meal after meal after meal, with only red Jell-O and beet pickles to provide an exciting change of color. People also eat lutefisk, but not as many, for obvious reasons. It's slimy and smelly; you could almost call it disgusting. However, it is white and therefore not alarming to the Norwegian eye.

Most of the food that we call "comfort food" around here contains a main ingredient of either butter or cream. This means that we often have rich and delicious dishes, but they are often rather filling, to say the least, and are the kind that sits a little heavy in your stomach. I always feel quite lethargic and slow after I eat, but it's worth it.

______________________

Red River Valley

Emily Jodock

11th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Harvest

I stepped out of the rumbling dirty grain truck

Shielding my eyes against the burning sun

The stubble crunched under my feet

As I took a step,

To better see the combine moving on the flat horizon

I recognized its location

By the gigantic cloud of dust that surrounded it

It turned at the end of the field and came towards me

Closer

Closer

Closer

Until I could almost smell the warm engine, that machine smell, combined with a musty and dusty smell that almost made me chose

And then it was upon me

The chaff got in my eyes and pricked at my skin and then stuck to it because of sweat

A cloud of dust consumed me

I opened my eyes as I heard the engine slow down,

for then the machines were still

Ready to go up and down and up and down and up and down the fields again

______________________

Red River Valley

Kirsti Lukens

9th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Aneta

I am from the town that has the Family Café,

Stone's Grocery Store,

First State bank,

Two elevators managed by Sheyenne Valley Grain Co-op,

Deb's It's and Bit's Gift Shop,

Whitetail Bar,

Parkview Nursing Home,

Larson's Meat Market,

And four churches,

Two of which are Lutheran.

I am from the town that has the largest,

outdoor,

turkey barbecue,

in the world.

Where 314 people host 2,000 others for two days.

Where the celebration ends with a church service.

I am from the town that has an empty school building,

We were the Aneta Wildcats,

now,

we are divided,

and sent in four directions.

It's a place where,

the whole town mourns for those who die,

we celebrate,

together,

Every new arrival,

no matter how they come.

We gossip about each other,

over strong,

black coffee,

while waiting for our pickups to fill up with gas

at the Farmers Union Oil Co.Op.

We all greet each other,

everywhere we go,

because everyone knows everyone.

We remember your childhood,

and all of your accomplishments,

We'll forever keep your secrets.

and we always know what's happening,

even before you do.

Aneta,

Queen City of the Upper Sheyenne,

This is where I'm from.

______________________

Red River Valley

Emily Jodock

11th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Maurseth Hill

It's always windy up there. Maurseth Hill must be the highest point in Grand Forks County. I don't care about that, though. It means more than that to me. It reminds me of many exciting tobogganing adventures that were fun in spite of the frigid cold and gusts of strong wind.

It's a place for reflection. I can go up there and see for miles around. Right away, I notice the grain elevator standing up like an obelisk on the flat land. It's actually located about 7 1/2 miles northeast of Maurseth Hill, but I can still see it. The elevator is the tallest building around, a landmark for the farmers of the Red River Valley.

I can see my farm, or at least the patch of trees surrounding it, two miles away. My farm has been in the family for over 100 years. Sitting up on the hill looking out, I wonder what it was like when my ancestors first came here. It's hard to imagine it without the patches of fields and shelterbelts. Now, that's all that's there, as far as the eye can see, rows and rows and acres and acres of wheat and corn and beans and sunflowers, cut only by the gravel roads on every mile line and small winding creeks.

______________________

Red River Valley

Nick Swenson

11th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Walking to School, Wondering

As soon as I step out of the house,

I can smell that the folks up at Northwood Equity Elevator

have been hard at work,

and I can also see that it snowed the night before.

I pass a man along the way, sixty years my senior,

and I wonder if he wishes that he hadn't lived

In this town his entire life.

"Uffda!" he says, with a hint of a Norwegian accent,

chuckling about the cold weather.

When briefly mentions our flailing

high school boys basketball team,

I somehow manage to respond with a polite smile.

I try to stay away from the murky puddles

that fill up most of these streets,

and I wonder why they ever bother to pave the things.

As a man in a red pickup passes me,

I wonder if he's content with his job security,

working on a farm that will one day go under.

And I wonder if he would ever consider a job in some city,

working for some major corporation,

one with a slave driver for a boss and accountants

that don't "technically" do taxes every year.

As I approach the school, this homely, depressing

shell of a school,

I wonder exactly how many days I have in this place,

and I dream of what I'll do once I leave.

I mull over what I didn't do for homework the night before,

and I wonder how bad it'll hurt my grade.

I wonder what college I'll go to,

and how far away it will be from here.

I wonder if people will talk the same way where I'm going,

but I worry that they might not know what lutefisk is.

I wonder if it won't be quite so boring where I'm going,

but I worry that I might not get any peace and quiet.

I wonder if there are any beautiful hills where I'm going,

but I worry that I might not see the sunset so well.

I wonder if I will like it where I'm going,

but I worry that I might miss North Dakota.

______________________

Red River Valley

Rachel Ness

10th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

North Dakota

Out here in the wide open plains of North Dakota

the seas of Wheat and barley,

flow fluently with the wind.

Like soft rolling waves of an ocean.

The deer graze gracefully

on the long green grass

in the open meadows.

They bound elegantly into the trees,

As the sound of gunshot

slices through the silent air.

You can hear the rumbling

of a truck coming near.

As it zooms past,

it leaves a heavy cloud

of dust that hangs in the air.

You can hear the spray planes

zoom up and down in the air

as they drop a heavy blanket of spray.

As the night draws near,

you can lay on the soft, pokey grass,

and gaze up at the open star filled sky.

During the harvest, a significant moon comes out.

We like to call it the 'Harvest Moon.'

This bright, orange, full moon hangs in the sky,

and enlightens the quiet, calm countryside.

______________________

Red River Valley

Dustin Bye

10th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

Fall Wonder

The wind constantly changing

One second, calm, peaceful

The nest, sand

The dirt

All flung into the sky

The only refuge for miles

Are the long lines of trees called a shelter belt

Grown to stop the wind,

The snow,

And to provide homes for all the creatures of this land.

The sand,

The dirt,

Flung in the sky

Light the frostbitten night with a glowing orange orb

Called the harvest moon.

______________________

Red River Valley

Katie Holte

9th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

I Am From a Place

I am from a place

Where dinosaurs once roamed.

They were here long ago,

But are gone now.

I am from a place

Where Grandma's cooking

Fills the cool, crisp air.

It's delicious donuts and lefsa.

I am from a place of

Flat land and trees

Where deer, moose, and bears

Run freely and gracefully by our home.

I am from a place

Of calm, peaceful tones

Of a bright blue sky,

And soft green grass.

I am from a town

That is slowly getting smaller.

A town where you know

Everyone around you.

I am from a

Happy place,

A sad place,

A place of mixed feelings.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jaci Lenz

9th grader

Northwood High School (Mason)

A Hard Life

Wearing the same greasy,

Bloody, sweaty overalls

every day.

Working hard, nonstop,

from 5 in the morning

until after midnight.

Hands become rough, oil-stained,

Callused, and blistered.

Sweat drips down his face,

running into his eyes,

as the scorching sun

burns his back.

______________________

Red River Valley

Elizabeth Hoff

8th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

My City Is the Country

My City is the Country

My bright streetlights and lampposts shine only at night

When the clear black sky opens up to thousands of twinkling stars

My cement parking lots are not of any man-made material,

They are still the rolling fields of various crops surrounding my house

My backyard is five acres of green grass and trees

My high school is 300 seventh to twelve grade students

Who know each other by first and last names

My sports teams have no try-outs,

If you want to play, you can play

My ice skating rink

Is the frozen wild rice river in winter

My future job

Is working with my dad in the fields that grow the crops to support my family

My city is the country

______

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 5

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jenna Ninneman

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

Country Girl

As the dust flies by underneath the tires of your 1983 Ford F-150 on the old country road

On the way to the field, you know you're a country girl.

When you wake up at 5:00 am to feed the cows and the chickens and make sure there is enough wood in the heat stove for the cold morning, you know you're a country girl.

If you spend your long summer days in the dusty cab of a green John Dere combine jamming out to Brooks and Dunn, you know you're a country girl.

When your mother yells for you to grab the clothes off the clothesline in the back yard and get your kid brother out of the pigpen, you know you're a country girl.

If your most rebellious moment of all time was spent cow tipping at the neighbor's house a mile away, you know you're a country girl.

When you come home from school and you are sent looking for the sheep that got out of their fence across the yard, you know you're a country girl.

While you're preparing for the senior prom and your mother asks what you want done with your hair and all you can think of is pig-tail braids, you know you're a country girl.

______________________

Red River Valley

Laura Houglum

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

Grain Bin Cleaning

We crawl into the steel prison.

We are armed with weapons, a shovel, a facemask, a broom, a cut-off t-shirt.

I am inside the circular bin.

The potent aroma contracts my lungs as dust.

The rotting grain filth smells putrid away from outside green sweetness.

The air is humid and thick.

The silver metal multiplies the intense summer hear.

We capture the tiny forsaken seeds as they run and spray everywhere.

The grain is mischievous and unruly.

Having no mercy.

The forsaken seed is whipped around the curve for nothing.

The only new purpose is for dogs and mice.

It waits to be rolled upon and digested hastily.

It waits to share its eye watering misery.

Wanting for someone to remember it being left behind.

To have some part of its miserable existence to pass on.

If only for a short time.

______________________

Red River Valley

Danielle Aarestad

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

Falling in the Mud

I am from a quiet room

Where dead fish and frogs swim about

From where little kittens smile and play

And lost fingers are nothing new

I am from a frozen flat swampy desert

Where tired volunteering faces walk about the stars

I am from where potato dumplings and lefse

are made from the finest grandmas around

I am from the tribe of blonde hair and blue eyes

That has seen the rising and falling of the Red

awakened by the droning of an airplane

I am from bugged eyed farm animals and black coffee

from white rabbits and black pickups

I am from orange hunting signs punctured with bullets

From the foxtail grass screaming in the burning ditches for help

I am from over weight cows walking aimlessly on black rivers

From where excited grasshoppers eat away at our patience

I am from where you can hear the never-ending speeches on miles of telephone line

I am from where bare trees show no remorse for their naked looks

I am from where nothing is something

From where friends become family

And enemies become once lost friends

______________________

Red River Valley

Anna Bauer

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

This Place, Where I am From

This Place, Where I am From....

Is mild, wet,

and the acres of bland brown crumbs,

stretch beyond sight,

and soon become speckled

of bits of sunflowers and soybeans.

Has the heat and moisture,

of the Everglades in Florida,

though it is thousands of miles away,

and what once was clean, dry clothes,

are instantly soaked with sweat,

and stick to the sunburned backs of beet farmers.

Turns colors from bright green to dull brown again,

while the weather cools and winds pick up,

and Ole and Lena prepare for a long winter,

as the days grow short

and the nights take over the sunlight hours.

is a desert of cold story winds,

that blow white flakes,

onto frozen noses of snowmobilers,

and cause homes to grow piercing temperatures in ice storms,

while children who wait inside for the storm to be over,

wonder if the abominable snowman will come after them.

This place,

where I am from,

is the Red River Valley.

______________________

Red River Valley

Tim Caillier

10th grader

Crookston High School (Barton)

The Night of the Winds

On the evening of August 9th my life was changed forever. Earlier that day I was combining that day. Later that afternoon I went to town to drive a tractor home that was being worked on. When I got home and parked the tractor I opened the door and it was like a heat blast to my body. It felt like the air itself was wet and it felt terrible. So I went into my dad's shop where he was working and I helped him until we finished. Then my brother came out and told my dad and I that it was going to storm so my dad and I put a bunch of equipment away in the sheds in case it hailed. So after we did that we both went into the house and my family and I ate supper. When we finished eating I decided to go take a shower because I had worked hard that day.

As I was going into the bathroom my mom yelled to me that the weather channel just said that there were one hundred-mph winds in Grand Forks and thought I should wait to take a shower. As soon as she finished speaking we lost the electricity. We then knew that the winds had picked up and they were headed towards us. About two minutes after that the high winds hit and we went down in our basement. After about twenty minutes my dad and I went and looked outside. My dad's shop had been torn apart. There were pieces of the shop everywhere along with trees that had fallen.

The next morning we awoke and went through the shop and picked out anything that was still good. There was paper insulation all over and we still didn't have electricity. We also moved and picked trees and tree branches. We did rebuild out shop but it involved a lot of work that could have been prevented by Mother Nature. It made for a very memorable night that I will never forget.

______________________

Red River Valley

Molly Sletten

9th grader

Northwood School (Mason)

I'm From

I'm from a landscape with endless numbers of fields and gently rolling hills.

With endless miles of wheat and barley.

Green rows filled with sugarbeets and beans.

Northwood, ND, is where I'm from.

Where it is not uncommon to see a John Deere tractor driving on the highway.

Where farmers work endless hours combining and plowing in the field,

Just to support their families.

I am from a town of hard-working farmers.

I am from Small-town USA,

Where everybody knows your name,

Where your business becomes everyone else's.

Where basketball and football games

Bring the town together,

And become the town's highlights on weekends.

I am from a town of lifelong friends and family.

I am from a four-story farmhouse,

On a family farm.

Where we have brought in things like baby deer

And other animals in need of shelter.

Where sheep, horses, and cows

Graze on the green pastures of spring,

Or the melting patches of ice on the coulee.

I'm from a generation farm family,

Where settlers broke the new soil many years ago.

I help bring in our crop in the fall,

Or help seed in the spring.

In good times and bad,

Through floods and droughts,

We stick together year after year.

This is my home, and my way of life.

______________________

Red River Valley

Vajeen Farok

8th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

From Place to Place

I was born in a city in Iraq

In this place I wasn't free to do much

In this place there was always violence

The people of Iraq would come and destroy people and their homes

That's why I had to run to Turkey

In this new country I lived in for four years

In this new country my sister and brother died in, from there I moved to America

America is a peaceful place, a free place

The first place I went to in America was New York

In this state is was too crowded

So from there I moved to Fargo a peaceful place

I lived in Fargo for six years than moved to Moorhead a friendly quite place

I moved to Hendrum where everyone is friends, now I live with my family of eight

I might move again to Nashville I don't know how it will be

______________________

Red River Valley

Emily Nygaard

8th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

I Am From

I am from...

The deer that run through Grandma's yard

The deer that hang in our garage

The cold day spent up waiting for the deer to come but never towards me

The warm apple cider my grandma makes when we get cold

The cold winters where going sledding onto the river is a must

The feel of the hard ice as you land on it

The snow that goes down your back and you hoping to get it all out

The stocking cap that keeps the cold wind from my ears

A place where grandma always has the best freshly made dumplings

A place where lutefisk is eaten by only the grownups

A place where homemade buns are enjoyed very much

A place where a family that cares and gathers every Sunday

A place where guests are always welcome

The presents that don't mean as much as the thought

The warm, the cold, the does, the don'ts, the good, the gross

But most of all I am from Rural Life

______________________

Red River Valley

Aaron Borgen

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

I Am From

I am from

Teachers with missing fingers

A place were we don't call road side service for a flat tire

A community were every one waves at you

The harsh long house of beet harvest

A sight of golden wheat fields that go for miles

I am from

The area Co-op were there is coffee hot all day

Coming in the house at noon for a lunch with the hired

A land were everyone has a fuel tank in their pickup, and never leave the farm without it full

The only place in the world were you can die of heat stroke in the summer and freeze your thumbs off in the winter

______________________

Red River Valley

Kaylee Zimmerman

10th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

Turtle Frenzy

During the summer in Minnesota,

For little children run to the two paddleboats.

The two little boys jump in the blue one first.

With a good head start, they snap on their life jackets.

The two little girls jump into the pink paddleboat,

But before they go out far Grandma yells out.

The boys took the good net,

Leaving the rotten one to the girls.

When they come closer to the special spot,

You have to make sure that the only thing you hear is the paddle of the boat.

As they get to the area were all the turtles are at,

The girls grab their ore to go further in.

The water is filled with weeds and muskrats.

Once the children see a turtle near by,

They make a mad dash to ketch one.

If you miss the turtle you will most likely get,

A hand full of weeds that don't smell the best.

Once the four little children have scared all the turtles away,

They travel back to the cabin where more fun waits,

With these turtles that these children ketch,

They paint on there shells and give them names.

The rest of the day the turtles rest in the red bucket.

But once the children go to sleep.

Their grandmother lets the turtles too.

______________________

Red River Valley

Lisa Deutsch

12th grader

Northwood School (Mason)

Abandoned Farmstead

The two story, paint chipped, 1800s-style house stands along. The windows are broken out of their frames, the roof is sagging in the center, and the crumbling chimney bricks are falling down. The grass has gown tall around the house, which cover the caving in foundation.

The only company of the house is a big, red barn, which is in equally poor condition. The red paint of the barn in chipped, and has peeled off. A wood fence, which once held milk cows, is now rotted, and broken. Only a few wood posts from the fence still stand near the barn. One of the barn doors is unhinged, and opens to the dark, musty, inside of the barn. You can see a rusted John Deere tractor sitting in the entrance. Its days of working in black fields are long gone. It is only one more item abandoned on the farmstead.

Huge elm trees surround the farmstead. The elm trees themselves are dying, as enormous branches break off, and crash to the ground. On the outside of the trees, there is a wheat field. Once plowed by the old tractor, the field now flows with new grain swaying in the breeze. The only break in the golden sea of grain is a large, silver silo standing in the center. It stands alone in the field, just as the farmstead stands alone on the prairie. The farmstead is abandoned, just as the dreams of the farmer who once lived there are abandoned.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jessika Lindholm

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

I Am From

I am from the land with cold winters and hot summers

Where the pool is full on almost every day in July

Where people buy coats that are about 3 layers thick

But still need a sweatshirt

I am from the land where hockey and the college team are a way of Life,and

everyone who is anyone basically lives in the hockey Arena

I am from potlucks with celebrities, and pools full of Jell-O

Where the chorus from my middle school is not only a lot of Singers

But waiters and waitresses, too

I am from land where there are so many blizzards that

You have to give them names and alphabetize them

And then when they melt, they turn into huge floods

I am from the land where the sun shines in the winter, but it‚s Still

below zero

I am from the land where the flowers burst with color in the Springtime,

and people pick them and put the in their houses so

That they have color

outside and inside

______________________

Red River Valley

Joshua Dahlgren

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Johnson)

ND Spring

I remember two years after the flood, my dad, a friend, and I, went fishing at the Red River. My friend caught a snage and walked down to the water. On the way, he got stuck in the mud. My friend's shoes were under the mud and I almost had to carry him out of his shoes and the mud.  He got out and I had to go in the mud and find his shoes. I found them and pulled them up.  When we got home we had to use the hose on full power with one of those little jetspray nozzles to take off the mud. We still had to let them dry and pick off the mud with our fingers and pliers.

______________________

Red River Valley

Justin Perreault

12th grader

East Grand Forks Senior High School (Sheridan)

One Tree Hill

There is a place where the green grass grows and the river flows. It's a mystical place with a story all its own. This is a place where you go to make your own story. There is a small hill up the path from the river. Perched on this hill in a glow of bright emerald is a tree. A one tree hill. All around the clear shimmering stream are slowly sculpted hills each looking in on the one tree hill. The one tree hill watches over the river like a sacred guardian. This tree is an omniscient figure in the valley. If you were to ask the tree to tell the stories it has been a part of, it would politely decline. It would say I do not have the time to tell the tale of my life. Instead you should make your own memories in the shadow of the one tree hill. One cannot just live on the tales of others. Allow the tree to watch your story. Make your mark.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jesse Arneson

8th grader

Norman County West High School (Marquart)

Rural Life

Rural life is...

knowing all the people in your town

not waiting at the traffic lights

not worrying about population problems

Rural life is...

doing my homework at night

working in the field that my dad owns in the countless hours of the summer

riding my awesome skateboard

playing the great game of chess

dominating the only game worth playing, Risk

Rural life is...

going to Creamery Hill on my snowboard

going to Fargo with some cash

going to Nick's State Line Café to eat chicken strips and fried [?]. Open 6:00 to 8:00 Monday through Friday.

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Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 6

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Cindy Jostad

12th grader

Red River High School (Christenson)

North Dakota Plains

Have you ever seen the sun set in a North Dakota sky?

It's something so amazing that you won't believe your eyes.

Have you stopped to smell the sweet, clean air that lingers all around?

Have you listened to the music when there hasn't been a sound?

If you dare to venture, if you really want to see;

Then close your eyes, grasp my hand, and take a walk with me.

We'll walk past the busy streets 'til we've reached the city's edge,

We'll walk across an open field and find a place to rest.

We'll pause a moment and look around, but nothing can we see;

There's nothing here but the open air, no one but you and me.

The country air surrounds us and we're lost in the night.

We're miles away from everything - from the noise and the city lights.

We listen for the slightest sound, for a whisper or a word;

But the music playing in our hearts is all that can be heard.

The wheatfields dance around us and I smell a hint of rain,

I've never felt more at peace than on the North Dakota plains.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kym Copple

8th grader

Fergus Falls Middle School (Rinke)

My Small Dark Space

A small dark place where it is nice and peaceful. This is a place where I go when I want to be alone. It's quiet, small, and private. I like this place because it is where I say my troubles out loud. It won't tell any body my secrets or any thing else. I like this place because it hides me from the world and all its troubles. In that spot I can go to a different world; I can be a princess or a little girl who lives by herself in the woods. I can pretend I have magical powers there.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jessica Wark

8th grader

Fergus Falls Middle School (Rinke)

Wintery Air

A farm on an open plain, beyond city limits could be considered rural, but that's where I go to frolic. When I was young, I would get away from it all. I could smell the pine trees, and many other types of trees crisp in the winter air. It could be fifty degrees below zero, but I would bundle up warmly, while my grandma told me not to go out in the coldness. But, I went anyway, until I couldn't feel any part of my body. I enjoyed that feeling. Rosy cheeks, as I had when entering beyond city limits. My grandma would give me a pat on the head and a glass of hot chocolate milk. I yearn to go beyond the city limits, to where my grandma lives, to frolic in the knee-high snow and to become numb with cold and happiness. Oh, how I yearn to be back where I belong.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kyle Garrahan

8th grader

Fergus Falls Middle School (Rinke)

Where I Come From

A small little town you thought you'd never live in.

A place where everyone knows everyone.

Somewhere where you can always find a friend.

A town where you go cow tipping for fun.

Where I come from is a farmers paradise.

Where the highest point in town is your sledding hill.

Where I come from get freezing in the winter and hot in the summer.

Where I come from is the little town that your grandma lives in.

______________________

Red River Valley

Julia Berg

11th grader

Northwood Public School (Mason)

Haying

Golden chaff swirled through the air landing and sticking to the sweaty faces and backs of everyone laboring. While we worked my friend's dad eyed the boiling black clouds above us. We had to throw faster; the rain was coming. All around me my family and friends heaved heavy bales onto the slowly rolling flatbed. I glanced at my arms past my heavy work gloves. They were rubbed red raw with the scratches from the coarse hay. They stung as sweat dripped onto the unprotected scratches.

______________________

Red River Valley

Julia Berg

11th grader

Northwood Public School (Mason)

The Circle of Seasons

Flat, flat land stretches as far as the eye strains.

The open expanse of sky above is ever about to change.

The bawling of baby calves marks the winter's recession.

Their Mothers' rough-tongued rubs celebrate this gift by nature's concession.

An early morning sunrise in the month of May,

Streaks across the darkened sky in resplendent display.

Meadowlarks and Red-winged blackbirds hop from reed to reed.

Below them mudhens dabble lazily as they feed.

The sky burns brilliant blue on a stifling August day.

It looks down on a muddy river in which children play.

In the fields, boiling black clouds brew overhead.

Workers frantically heave bales on an idling flatbed.

When autumn days come to the land

Farmers are always busy, friends lend a helping hand.

All-consuming combines crunch along the terrain

Leaving only stalks behind, saving precious grain.

Fall days wane into the dark of winter nights

When rustic town streets are lit with Christmas lights.

Families entertain themselves at the fire's side.

They're tucked away safely from the frigid air outside.

Out there the blank sky matches the toneless snow

That whirls with the howling as a fierce blizzard blows.

Although the winter seems to last an eon,

Spring will again come before too long.

This circle of the seasons lives on for generations

Making an honest, sturdy race, full of satisfactions.

______________________

Red River Valley

Cleone Whelan

Teacher Submission

Valley High School

Early Dakota Winter

The weatherman says, "snow;

Howling, angry snow."

I say, "It can't be,

We haven't had enough Fall yet!"

But today's sky is ominous gray,

Dark and unhappy.

The early dawn air biting, chilling.

Winter, that inevitable season,

Approaches without my control.

I hate it! I love it!

Bitter, crisp air; beautiful, fluffy snow.

Maybe the weatherman is okay

When he says "snow."

______________________

Red River Valley

Carmyn Juntunen

Teacher Submission

Community High School

Bruce Alexander

I remember riding my daisy-decorated banana seat Huffy

that I won at the Towner County Fair,

pedaling hard down the section line road

with my little brother close behind.

We rode past the shelterbelt dividing the freshly cultivated fields,

a thin green line of trees as far as the eye could see.

The last half mile was on the Perth road-

built up, with steep ditches and thick soupy gravel.

Our bikes drunkenly fought to stay upright.

Nearly there, we stopped at Bruce's. 

It was tradition to stop-

to fuel up for the last quarter mile ride.

It was summer; we had all day.

Bruce Alexander was my grandpa in the way

that people make relatives out of beloved friends. 

For the twenty-five years I knew him, he remained unchanged.

College educated, a bachelor farmer who hailed from Gilby,

he still worked the fields at 85.

Bruce was an artist, an engineer with a gentle touch 

who carved things-like birdhouses, old-fashioned spinning tops.

He built his house, and it was wonderful.

His kitchen table was a booth and the seats lifted up

to reveal a hidden treasure of plates and silverware. 

His screen door shut by way of weights and pulleys.

He had a piano stool that spun, all the way up and then all the way down-

I'd spin myself so dizzy, until giggling, I would fall right off. 

For my brother and me each visit was the same. 

We'd find Bruce hanging clothes on the line

or reading from his stack of National Geographics

and he'd head for the kitchen to fetch some lemonade.

Sometimes we'd get fudgesicles and we'd visit-

"little adults" full of knowledge about the weather and crops.

Then we'd head down the road to my cousin's

and I'd glance back to see Bruce in his blue flannel shirt waving from the doorway,

my brother at my heels, with a chocolate beard,

laughing, trying to overtake me.

______________________

Red River Valley

Carmyn Juntunen

Teacher Submission

Community High School

What We Remember

My mother says when I was a little girl

I feared men who did not resemble my father--

strangers with thick-rimmed glasses,

balding or bearded men.

When it was time, she and my father nervously

sent me on the school bus

alone.

They feared I would cry,

when I had to speak to the white-haired stranger

behind the wheel.

I don't remember this,

but I do remember

my father with his clean-shaven face

and thick black curly hair--

a gift from his Irish relatives.

I remember climbing onto his lap

to hear a story about Frosty our horse or Brownie our dog.

I remember riding by his side in the tractor,

making endless circles in the field.

I remember him reclining in his La-Z-boy

and me tugging off his boots,

tumbling backward when they finally released.

I remember one Christmas Eve

when snow was piled high in the yard

my dad and my uncles

creating a series of caves and slides

until it was nearly dark.

I remember being scared but sliding anyway

and seeing his face at the bottom,

laughing, with arms outstretched.

______________________

Red River Valley

Rebekah Goering

12th grader

Red River High School (Opp)

Guitar 6

(Note: this is a song submission; the CD accompanies the hard copy. Here are the lyrics:)

Verse 1: I walk these small town streets

Listening to the echoes of a hundred feet

Each one has a story to tell

Like the snowflakes on First Avenue

Some knew it well

Some just passing through

On their way to somewhere else

Chorus: Oh what do they miss

Those who fly on by?

Do they hear the cry of this place?

Lost and forgotten

Trapped in the middle of space

With a wind you can get lost in

And a sky that flies on

Forever and ever

Hey look around you

Do you see what's right in your face?

You could be free

Forgotten in this place

Verse 2: Here I have resided

To wait a hundred years or more to tell

Each day blows a different color

White or blue or black as night

Sometimes it's so cold

I swear the light just freezes

Stopped in its tracks with the rest of the world

(Chorus)

Bridge: You're at the middle of the edge of the world here

Look up what do you see

Staring at the sky through the barren trees

There's no wall

No guidance,

Just space and horizon

(Chorus)

______________________

Red River Valley

Sue Rinke

Teacher Submission

Fergus Falls Middle School

Winter in Minnesota

Winter is not a visitor,

It is a part of the family.

We're not sure how long it will stay

But we are sure

It will come.

As part of our family,

We accept it.

Even when

We're no really very happy to.

Winter has been known to

Take its extra share

Of the calendar,

And our energy.

Bitter wind and cold seeps in

Even though we build fires,

Gather blankets.

And share cocoa.

But Winter does not scare us,

For we know it

Too well.

______________________

Red River Valley

Sue Rinke

Teacher Submission

Fergus Falls Middle School

Running Water

Yes, we have running water,

Yes, electricity and indoor plumbing!

Still,

Enough "Uff Da" and lefse

To keep us grounded.

Grounded in what it is

To be a good neighbor

Or a helpful and friendly stranger.

We are what they call

"Minnesota nice."

We give people a chance,

We are happy for each other.

We are polite, and respectful,

Even when opinions clash.

We smile when we discipline

And say "sorry" if we hurt someone.

Minnesota nice.

Big helpings of potatoes and gravy,

Sunday football watching,

And, oh yes,

Running water.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kelly O'Toole

7th grader

Valley Elementary (Niemann)

Crystal

C is for the Café which is also our store.

R is for the Railroad which goes through town.

Y is for the Youth sports programs.

S is for the Seeds getting bought and sold.

T is for the Trees planted all around by people.

A is for All the farmers near our town.

L is for the Large machinery farmers run.

N is for the Nice summer days which we have.

O is for the Openness of the land.

R is for the Rich soil that we have.

T is for the Tractors farmers run.

H is for the Horses running free in the prairies.

D is for the Dairy farmers who provide us with our milk.

A is for the Alfalfa farmers plant for their animals.

K is for the Kids playing in the small hills.

O is for the Older people knowing the history of the area.

T is for the Trucks hauling all the produce.

A is for the Animals ranchers and farmers care for.

______________________

Red River Valley

Amanda Guzman

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

Summer in North Dakota

Our weather in North Dakota is comfortable in the summer.  The heat reflects off your skin when you are swimming in pools and lakes.  In the morning, summer smells like fresh-cut grass after it rains.  In the afternoon, summer smells like fresh strawberries after you open the container.

There are two things that I like best about North Dakota summers.  The first is the breeze blowing over the prairie, through the wheat fields, tipping the heads of the wheat so that they gleam in the sun.  The other is the early morning dew on the grass sparkling as the warm sun rises for another wonderful day in the Red River Valley.  That is what makes summers magical in North Dakota.

______________________

Red River Valley

Alicia Hall

8th grader

Valley Elementary (Niemann)

North Dakota

Population is little,

But the people's hearts are big,

People are friendly and nice,

Only one place this could be.

Barely any traffic,

Driving age 14,

Traffic jams there's not,

Only one place this could be.

Small schools everywhere,

Class sizes ranging from 8 to 20,

Lots of people are in sports, music, science fair,

Only one place this could be.

The weather is perfect, although many would disagree,

The best of all four seasons,

Temperature ranging from 20 below to 90 above,

Only one place this could be.

Where could this wonderful place be?

Where could there be all these wonderful things?

Only one place,

North Dakota.

______________________

Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 7

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Derek Janisch

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

Blizzard

The lights flicker and go out.

The power dies, and candles are lit.

Flashlights are turned on.

Looking outside it's all white with snow.

Although the street lights are on,

They're invisible, even hidden by the snow.

The heat is gone with the power.

Wrapped up in blankets we look like caterpillars in cocoons.

It gets cold, colder, even colder yet.

We fall asleep, knowing school will be canceled.

We dream of snowmen, snow angels, even snowball fights.

We sleep in late and wake up happy,

Knowing this is one of hopefully many snow days.

Families are together whether they are sledding, making a snowman,

Or just sipping hot cocoa.

Parents are glad to spend time with their children.

Yes, even the teachers are glad to have this single day of sanity.

And we owe all it to a single blizzard!

______________________

Red River Valley

Laura Harmon

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

Untitled

Hunting is a great experience! In the Fall on a chilly morning, it is like being taken over by colors. You become engulfed by, tall, thick trees. It is dead silent, but in the distance you can hear the leaves crunching underneath your dog's feet. You can also hear sticks and leaves crunching under the weight of your own body. All of a sudden your dog picks up a scent and the chase is on. You follow your dogs through a maze of trees. Boom! You have the bird, and it is beautiful. It has different shades of brown, and your partner pats it and shoves it in a pouch connected to their vest. You walk to the car using a compass, because all around the trees and the scenery are almost the same. The feeling is amazing. It is like completing a long, frustrating maze.

______________________

Red River Valley

Jackie Widstrap

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

Snow Glistening

Sparkles of stardust falling from the sky at night.

Not much dirty snow near the roads.

On the ground there is a choir of snow angels.

Water that is clear but solid for skating areas.

Ground is frozen with snow all over; even the ponds have snow on them.

Listening to people walking on crisp snow.  It sounds like Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! in the cold winter air.

In frozen ponds there are cold fish.

Snow is like twinkling stars on the ground.

Tilting boulders of packed snow made by snow plows.

Endless snow in the old crop fields near the barns and the house.

Nice little squirrels gathering food for there families and for   the winter.

Inspiring to many poets and artist.  That is how they make their work.

Now the sparkling snow is melting. The grass is waiting for spring to come.

Growing plants soon to cover the earth when the sun comes and helps them greet the spring.

______________________

Red River Valley

Dragana Situm

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

Untitled

Winter in North Dakota is like winter nowhere else. The snow is softer and fluffier, and it has a beautiful sparkle. The trees are white and icy; the rivers are frozen. Kids are playing in the snow, making snow angels, falling on the ice. You see snowmen in peoples' yards, some of them have hats, scarves and branches for their arms. Kids make snow forts, places they can call their own. They laugh in the cold as they slide down the hills. You see people snowmobiling and ice fishing. You can feel the wind on your cheeks and the snow in your eyes. When you look outside your window you see little fluffy sparkle flying everywhere. When you see those sparkles you get a happy feeling inside. You hear happy songs. That's what winter is like in North Dakota.

______________________

Red River Valley

Alan Peterson

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

The River

In North Dakota we have a river that goes north.  It goes into Canada.  It is our border with Minnesota.  It is the only major river that goes north in North America. This is the third biggest river that goes north in the world.  The valley goes gently outward from the river.  The river is magical because it cleans up the land and gives it life.  The river takes life, too.  It is like the river has made Grand Forks, my hometown, and could take it away.

______________________

Red River Valley

Amy Holweger

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

The First Spring Rain

After the snow melts I pull on my boots and splash through the tempting muddy puddles.

When it rains little raindrops tap on the window trying to get in from the cold.

The wind howls like a wolf as other raindrops beat like a war cry on the roof.

Thunder cracks like a whip and lightning flashes in the sky like a huge flashlight.

On the perfect rainy days you get stuck outside and get chilled to the bone, but you enjoy the thrill.

After the first rainstorm you smell the fresh wet smell, like freshly mowed grass.

Rainy mornings and humid afternoons are accompanied by gray skies and the promise of sunshine tomorrow.

When the rain ends, a colorful, sparkling rainbow dances across the sky.

But these days don't last and you eventually must come and dry by the fire, preparing yourself to splash in those muddy puddles on another rainy day.

______________________

Red River Valley

Justin Nagel

7th grader

Valley Middle School (Schmit)

The Fall Hunt

The fall hunting up here in North Dakota is like no other time of year. Once bare wetlands and grasslands are now filled with ducks and geese. It's one of the only places I can go to be happy, feel so full of life, and feel so free all at the same time. Tracking one of those monster whitetail bucks, or jumping that slough full of green mallard heads. The wonderful outdoor scent blasting out from the forest trees and fallen leaves. Forests of evergreens, maples, and box elders. Fragile cattails bursting as you bump into them. You call with that deer or duck call and hear that distant answer back- a bleat, a grunt, or a quack. When you hear their replies your heart starts to beat about one hundred miles per hour, and you feel like getting up and screaming. But you don't!

I feel like this place is my home. I feel more comfortable and relaxed than in my own house. This place is special, my most special place. I love how many people up around here can actually get out into the outdoors, and I think that if you ever get the chance to come up here and try it, you have to do it.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kelsey King

8th grader

Fergus Falls Middle School (Rinke)

Where I Come From

Where I come from is different than it is there.

Here we have snow fall ever so often.

We may have the same days but our seasons might be different than yours.

Wehre I come from is like this is the summer I have friends and family over to go swimming and in the winter we either go snowmobiling and snowboarding.

Where I come from might be really different than where you live but it is what I like to call my home.

Here some of us like to gather and sit and talk but some like us younger kids love to go outside and play.

We love to do stuff like go to the movies and out for supper with our friends and sometimes even with our families.

I know you might think, well we do stuff with our friends and families, so why is to so different there?

Well here we get snow in the winter and we have nice days in the fall here we like the summer because we only get three months of it.

We also like the winter but that can wait because you see we get six months of that.

I have been to other states and stuff and I like them all but I don't know what I would do if I didn't live here.

I wouldn't know what to think and what to say and I might not even know what to wear.

Unlike you, you know what to say, wear, and do.

If you came here I'm sure you would feel the same way too.

You would feel like you didn't belong, that is what I would feel like.

Here it doesn't matter what you wear or how you act because you will always have friends that like you for who you are.

...about this new place but if you let us get to know you then I'm sure you will like it here.

If I did have to move I hope it will be some where like here, where you have friends and it doesn't matter what you wear and I would be able to make new friends.

So if you are ever here I hope you think of it the same way I do.

That is what it is like where I come from.

Thank you.

______________________

Red River Valley

Andy Eliason

8th grader

Fergus Falls Middle School (Rinke)

Where I Come From

Some may think that where I come from it is primitive so to speak. They may also think that we have no plumbing, electricity and it is frozen tundra year round. Well it isn't. In the spring the young grass starts to sprout up along with the flowers and the smell of blooming apple blossoms and lilacs. In the summer it can get quite hot, luckily we are in the land of ten thousand lakes. In the fall the trees turn shades of yellows and reds. You can often hear combines, tractors, grain trucks hauling their harvested crops and the sound of the corn dryers running late into the night. The sound of Canadian geese honking and the sounds of the hunters. In the winter it will get cold but there is sledding, skiing, and snowboarding and hot chocolate. Minnesota is my home and I love it here.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kyle Jorgenson

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

Hot Chocolate

Hot chocolate is good after playing out side. I like hot chocolate. When you are running and you are cold you come in and you have hot chocolate.

______________________

Red River Valley

Ashli Davidson

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

The Wild Cat

Once I saw a wild cat running in the field. It was a bobcat. It caught a rat. She brought it to her baby cats. It was brown and they have spots. It was huge.

______________________

Red River Valley

Karley Underdahl

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

Rabbits

Jack Rabbits can jump high, very high. A rabbit is very very very close by my house. Jack Rabbits are very wild, very very very wild. Did any of you see one?

______________________

Red River Valley

Morgan Tiani

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

Snow

I like snow because it's white. When snow is down it is white. I play in snow outside. The snow is white and dirty. I like clean and white snow. It is pretty clean too. You will get stuck if you are driving your car.

______________________

Red River Valley

Kane Ueland

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

White Tailed Deer

The deer in the woods camouflage themselves. Wild deer in the woods are hard to see by the color. White tailed deer are my favorite. My friend almost stepped on one baby white tailed deer.

______________________

Red River Valley

Anna Claire Tandberg

1st  grader

Viking Elementary School (Hodny)

Chickadee

I've seen a chickadee in my bird feeder. My favorite bird is a chickadee. I love the colors of their wings. The colors of their wings are black and white. They are pretty. They're a small bird. Her song sounds like this: chickadede, chickaded. They only come in winter.

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Rural Voices Radio-Red River Valley

E-mail Submissions

Batch 8

NOTE: Some of these have been re-typed from the original; if there are discrepancies, the hard copies should be regarded as the versions the writers intended.

______________________

Red River Valley

Nathan Trenda

11th grader

Valley High School (Whelan)

Serenity

On a farm,

Fifty miles from civilization.

Unseen, I walk outside without any worries.

Acres upon acres of jet-black earth,

As far as the eye can see.

In the fall of the year,

A faint haze falls upon the land.

Everyone knows the bitter cold will draw near.

No one else seems to understand.

Who would want to live in this hell-bent region?

I do.

______________________

Red River Valley

Alisha Woods

11th grader

Valley High School (Whelan)

North Dakota