...so sit for a spell and visit with a friend over coffee

As she does just about every Sunday morning, my mom called at about 11:40am (8:40 PDT) to chat a bit before heading out to church services at the Disciples of Christ Church in Santa Paula, California. Amidst the conversation mostly about the goings on in her relatively small California citrus agriculture town southeast of Santa Barbara, she pivoted subjects to the old home area of Abercrombie, North Dakota and mentioned that longtime resident Louise Haarstad had passed away. Louise was the wife of Oscar Haarstad, who along with his brother Selmer (Sam) owned the old Ford Dealership and Oliver Farm Implement store on the north side of Broadway toward the east end of the main business district of the small Midwest hamlet.

I didn’t know Louise particularly well, but whenever I was back “home” in Aber (as it’s called by most locals) and would walk into the Community Hall for coffee each morning, Louise always greeted me with a smile and warmth one would usually reserve for a beloved grandkid. The news of her passing got me thinking about that little town that sits just west of the Red River which serves as the border for the neighboring state of Minnesota, and about how much time I spent there from about 1980 to 2000. At least once each year (usually more) over that two-decade span, I would go back for extended periods to visit my family and even worked several times out of the IBEW hall in Fargo. There were a ton of good things about those yearly excursions, but one of the best was walking uptown each morning when possible and kibitzing with the old folk over coffee at the community hall.   

The community center where they’d meet Monday through Saturday in the Richland County, North Dakota town of approximately 264 stands almost in the center of the main drag on the southwest corner Broadway (County Road 4) and 2nd street. The almost exclusively American made cars and pickups that belong to the townsfolk and farmers that gather each morning for coffee are parked head-first into the curb at a 45-degree angle along Broadway across from the old meat market. The former butcher shop, which was converted into senior apartments, sits sandwiched between the Abercrombie, ND post office and the building that formerly housed the Aber Café (which was owned by my mom’s brother and my uncle Donald). Just as a side note, that old meat market had a sign in front of the front driveway on the garage door that made the Paul Harvey radio show one day. It read something like “Park here and be ground.”

The Aber Bar, with its classic red and white Schmidt’s beer sign, still operates just west of old Café (there’s a new metal building which houses the Aber Grocery in between) and just east of the post office on the north side of Broadway is the old building that housed the old Haarstad Ford dealership (mentioned above) which closed several decades ago. Across 2^nd street from the Community Center are the remnants of an old gas station (Texaco as I recall) and just south of that on the east side of the gravel 2^nd street heading south is the old brick blacksmith shop that still stands today. I believe the town uses it to store various machinery.

 

 

The west end of town is bordered by the Emanuel Lutheran Church and cemetery where generations of area folks rest peacefully along “Old 81.” That once major north/south highway which stretched northward through Fargo to the Canadian boarder and once as far south as the Mexican line has long since been replaced by Interstate 29. Like so many of the towns that dried up and died when bypassed by the Interstate highway system, Abercrombie should probably have perished too…but it didn’t. The Fargo & Southern and Milwaukee Road railroad tracks are gone. So are the banks, several gas stations, the hardware store, the Ford dealership, the café, the Blacksmith and several other businesses. But the Post Office, the Standard gas station, the Grocer, Red River Telephone, a newer truss factory and of course the bar, are still all operating. At least part of the reason  the small town survived is probably due to the historic Fort Abercrombie which sits on the west bank of the River. Parts of the fence and several blockhouses still stand today, and County road 4 which leads into Aber literally stretches across the Red River from Minnesota before winding directly through the Historic Fort.

 

 

As mentioned above, at least for me my favorite thing about this place was going up to the Community Hall each morning was chatting with the various old characters that sat around the table. They always seemed to get a kick out of the kid from Los Angeles, and by first time I’d walk in for coffee each trip, it usually wouldn’t be a surprise because the news of my blue pickup with California plates parked in my Grandpa’s or Uncle’s driveway had usually made its way around  town. I’d always receive a warm greeting from everybody...better than I ever received back in LA, and would often spend hours just sitting and visiting with regulars like Phil Balmey, Ed Herrick, Wayne Herrick, Munce, Kenny Jacobson, Jalmer Larson, Eddie Miller, Fritz Snyder, Maynard, Chief, and a host of other staples. My grandpa would never come up...he saw no good reason to part with 35 cents for coffee that he could brew at home for less. The men sat at one table and would talk about the weather, the price of wheat, how many bushels per acre of soy beans they got on the Anderson land, and the amount of moisture in the rain gage out in their various yards. They’d also repeat a lot of old stories…and tell some really bad jokes. I always laughed though…there was just kind of a weird therapy to it all.

A not so slightly higher grade of conversation took place at an adjancent table where the women would sit and visit too. They’d also collaborate on some daily puzzle in the Fargo Forum newspaper (Jumble I think) and I always got points for crossing the forbidden gender lines and daring to sit with the women a spell. I’d chat  with folks like Irene Erickson, Ceil Larson, Elaine and always Louise. Folks always seemed appreciative…but I always left each morning knowing full-well I’d gotten far more out of the experience than any of them ever received by talking with me. The best part was the daily ritual offered a consistency and peace that was so lacking in the chaos of a big and socially cold city like Los Angeles. No matter what, no matter how crazy things were in Los Angeles, I knew I could hop in my pickup anytime and within 40 hours (of driving) or so, I’d have the healing of the Abercrombie Community Hall and it’s wholesome people that I knew would be there forever.

I haven’t by back there since my uncle Donald died over five years ago, and the last time I did visit one of the old chaps that was always happiest to see me looked at me with a confused expression after we talked for a spell and said “who am I talking to…I don’t remember you.”  There are still one or two of them left, but to the best of my knowledge almost all of the folks mentioned above have passed away. Many…have been gone for years. Now…Louise has joined them too.  

What’s the point of all this? I don’t know either. But if you find yourself too wrapped up in the day-to-day chaos of life, you may want to take at least a moment to recognize that the things you may take for granted that won’t be here forever. Stop…inhale, look around, and take in the people, pets and things about the world that mean the most to you. You can initiate that perspective gaining experience by having a good weekend, and by starting it with a little good music. Have a good two days, and whatever you’re doing, don’t forget to breathe.

 

Any old time...