What an adventure I’ve been on since my previous blog, last week. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it, and I’ve experienced a lot so that’s saying something. And the key part is that the experience wasn’t just good, or fun, or interesting. It was all of those but it was also incredibly valuable and enlightening.
First off though, let’s get to the day after I wrote the previous blog. Leaving St. Cloud I had a quick and easy trip up to Brainerd, and arriving around 10:30 meant I couldn’t head over to Madden’s Resort to check in (can’t do that until 3:00) so I went straight to the track. Here’s the thing about Brainerd, for PR hacks like me: When you walk in Gate B after parking in the reserved lot, you are right in the middle of the venue. But, the Media center is all the way around the track on the far side, and Del’s pit area was almost all the way down the massive row of transporters, in the opposite direction. It’s a huge place, not even counting the campgrounds and The Zoo. I made the decision to turn left after I got in and took my backpack to the Media Center before turning around to walk back to Del’s pit. It would be a weekend featuring lots of walking. More than 10,000 steps each day, and I managed to hit 12,000 on Saturday.
Thoughts about the race… Del went in there really upbeat about how the car was running, and because cars sense such things (you may think they are unfeeling mechanical objects but in reality they are devious living beings) we could barely get out of our own way all weekend. Through three sessions we were unable to make a full lap and in real danger of not qualifying for the race, as 18 teams were trying to fit into 16 spots. I’m not much of a math guy but that doesn’t work.
In the final qualifying session, we were sitting in the bump spot and were running as part of the second pair. The pair ahead of us featured Gary Densham and Dale Creasy. Our best time was something along the lines of 4.49 or so. Both Densham and Creasy ran well enough to knock us out and into the 18th spot. It was time to fix the problems and get back in, and Del did just that, running a 4.02 to do it. That put us 11th and safely in the show, but one other car outran us before the session was over so we entered the race in the 12th spot. Ironically, after all the dust settled it was Densham and Creasy who ended up getting bumped back out. It’s a cruel sport. I know this first-hand. And no, there’s nothing like the pressure of firing your car for the final qualifying run knowing you’re either going to be in, or out.
On Sunday we lost in round one, when the same mechanical issues came back to ruin our lap. Del was as frustrated as I’ve seen him in a LONG time and I felt for him. He’d come in there very positive, and feeling good about things. Then we started chronically dropping cylinders or spinning the tires, or both. It was a bummer.
What was not a bummer was the event itself. I’ve been going to Brainerd since 1992, and I’ve seen the ebbs and flows of how well the event goes. There were some years not too long ago when the campground was nowhere near capacity and we never came close to filling the main grandstand. I honestly felt like the Brainerd stop on the NHRA tour might be in danger. Some of the ownership groups in the late 1990s and into the 2000s seemed to not even care about the venue or the people paying for tickets. Things were not good.
And then in 2006 Jed and Kristi Copham bought BIR and everything began to turn around. They thrive on customer service and on great racing, and their commitment to BIR is unmistakable. That commitment shows in the campground and grandstands, and this year was the best I’ve ever seen. The place was absolutely packed, and even though I did not go to The Zoo I heard from many who did and the consensus was “We haven’t seen it like this in decades. It might be the best it’s ever been.”
The fans came out in huge numbers, and the pro pits were so consistently crowded it was hard to even walk through the throngs of them. Wall to wall would be a great way to describe it, and you have to keep in mind that a certain percentage of the paying public never bothers to go find their seats in the grandstand. They show up midweek and are there for the camping, the party, and The Zoo.
Barbara drove up in her car on Saturday, and it was really something she was looking forward to. She hasn’t been to any races recently (I don’t recall her going to any last year and maybe just one in 2016) and she was really eager to see a lot of smiling friendly faces. Brainerd was always one of her favorite events, and staying at Madden’s makes it even better. We had a phenomenal cabin right on the shore of Gull Lake and a glass of wine on the porch was about as good as it gets. Very serene, and to sit there and hear two Loons converse in their unmistakeable call is something so Minnesota it gives you goosebumps.
We drove both of our cars to the track on Sunday, because we’d be heading in opposite directions after we left. We stood down by the starting line for introductions and the national anthems (they sing both the Canadian and American anthems) before we headed up to the Media Center, but a few moments later Barb spotted the lovely young lady who had sung “Oh Canada” and harmonized on “The Star Spangled Banner” so she asked if she could have her photo taken with the talented girl. And now Barbara Doyle can add Miss Minnesota to her long list of famous friends!
After we lost, I had a decision to make. I had reserved a room in Bemidji, which is about 100 miles north of the track. I did that in the hope we’d have a long and successful day and that would be as far as I’d want to drive. It’s another two hours plus up to Roseau and I didn’t want to be doing that in the dark. With our early elimination, I not only knew I’d have time to get to Roseau while the sun was still up, I also knew that I couldn’t put my Post-Event Report out until at least 4:30 after the race was over. because if people are looking forward to seeing the finals on TV, even “live” on TV, the very sight of an email from me at 1:00 tells them all they need to know about Del’s day.
So I called the motel I was going to stay at in Roseau and changed my reservation to start Sunday night, then cancelled the Bemidji room. It was all systems go to drive up to Roseau. In doing so I learned something else new. I’d never been any further north, in the middle part of the state, than Nisswa, which is seven miles or so from the track. After passing Nisswa, I was in all new country. And there’s a lot of it. I learned that Minnesota is a very tall state. And, after Bemidji there’s not much in the way of humanity until you get to Roseau. A few tiny towns, but none apparently big enough to have a school or a Main Street. Just miles and miles of near wilderness, ranging for thick forests and lakes of all sizes to endless fields of a wide variety of crops. I could easily drive 10 miles without seeing another car, and did that repeatedly. It was really exciting to pull into Roseau and see people and vehicles again. And it’s a good thing I did the trip Sunday, because my first meeting was set for 9:00 a.m. on Monday.
Larry Guggisberg had my schedule expertly laid out, and he knew exactly what I was after. I not only wanted to meet the locals and some hockey guys, but I also wanted to get a good feel for the town, the residents, and the places they gather. He nailed it.
I did have some time on Sunday night to drive around and check out the town a little. I’d been doing my research to see photos of the arena and some other parts of town, including the massive Polaris plant which employs a large number of locals. Roseau was quaint, friendly, easy to navigate, and very compact. It was also very welcoming.
In the morning, I was up early and checking out my Monday itinerary. My first meeting was at the arena, with David Drown who is the guy who runs the building. He’s also a former Roseau Ram hockey player, and he graduated in 1984. That 1984 thing would soon be noteworthy for me, and in sort of a funny way. I had a busy schedule that ran right through to Wednesday morning, and on my itinerary from Larry I kept noticing that 1984 graduates were the norm, not the exception. Clearly that was a good team, and many of them live in Roseau to this day, even if they left for a while to play college hockey, or juniors, or pro.
They did not win the state championship, though, in 1984 so I was intrigued by meeting so many guys from that team. And here’s the funny part. Without knowing any of this, I picked 1984 to be the graduation year for my fictional Roseau character. Why? Because math is not my strong suit and I thought having the guy graduate exactly 10 years after I did would make it way easier for me to peg different years to different stages of his life. Just add 10 years to what I went through. What an incredible coincidence that just fell into my lap.
And what about that ’84 team? They did go to the state tournament but they got blitzed 7-0 by Twin Cities powerhouse Edina in the opening round. Roseau did win the Consolation trophy, but many locals consider the ’84 team to be one of the best ever, despite not winning it all.
Larry was there at the arena to introduce me to David, as he would be for every one of my meetings and conversations. He went completely out of his way to set it all up, and then make it all happen with introductions. Each time, he’d deliver me to my next person and then leave us to have our conversations. It was fairly amazing, considering the man is Superintendent of Schools.
David was awesome, and we hit it off well. The building, officially known as Roseau Memorial Arena, was built in the 1940s and it’s a an absolute civic treasure. The arched beams give it a classic “barn” look, and the banners representing the state championships and the runner-up finishes are all you need to know about Roseau hockey. This isn’t so much a “hotbed” of hockey, it’s a way of life and it’s the glue that holds the community together.
Minnesota is known as the State of Hockey, and the sport is incredibly popular at just about every level from the border with Iowa up to the border with Canada, and from Moorhead in the west all the way to Duluth and Stillwater in the east. But Roseau… Roseau is what you’d call the epicenter, and with the similar town of Warroad just 20 miles away, these two beacons of hockey greatness set an example I simply can’t think of in any other sport or in any other state. Between these two schools, located in one town of about 2,600 (Roseau) and another of about 1,600 (Warroad) you’re looking at 11 total state championships, where there is simply no way to get to the crown without beating mega schools from the Twin Cities and other parts of Minnesota. This is why my character just HAS to be from Roseau. It’s also why I had to make the drive and spend the days there. I needed to soak it in and try to understand how it’s even possible. I’m still not sure I totally understand it, but I absorbed a lot and I “get it” a lot better now.
David gave me the full tour, of the arena where all the home games are played, right down to the fabulous locker room they have for these high school kids who represent their city. I also got a full tour of The North Rink, another fine rink and facility right next door. With a third full ice sheet being located over by the school, the little town of Roseau has three full-sized indoor hockey rinks. I asked David if there were any outdoor rinks, since we have many in Woodbury, and he said, “Not really. In the middle of winter here it’s pretty much too cold to play outside. We can go a month straight below zero, and it can get down to 30-below pretty regularly.” Oh.
On the tour, I got my first introduction to the great flood of 2002. The little Roseau River runs right through the town, and it’s almost not noticeable when you drive over it. In ’02, it took over most of the town. It heavily damaged just about every business in town and it flooded the arena, ruining much of the ice-making equipment and many auxiliary rooms. It was a disaster, but as nearly everyone who explained it to me said, “It was a disaster with a silver lining.”
After the historic flood, Roseau had to rebuild. With help from FEMA and other sources, the town got to work and rebuilt. At the arena, they took it as an opportunity to improve the building at the same time. They extended the west wall, adding a few new beams across the top, and that allowed them to finally get the rink up to the standard 200 feet in length. It had been 185 since it was built.
The place is still historic, but now it’s also state of the art. And my conversation with David was a fabulous way to start my introduction to the Roseau way of life.
With each of my meetings being set about two hours apart, I could spend an hour with each of the people I met and then have time to dash back to the motel to take my recordings and notes and put them into a better order, to indelibly etch them onto my mental hard drive. The reason I could do this was because of Roseau itself. I knew I could get to any meeting in just 5 minutes or less, no matter where I was going. That was a great thing.
Larry took me to meet Gary Ross and his brother Don at the Guesthouse Inn, and that was my second fantastic conversation. And guess what? Gary was the coach for that same 1984 team.
After just two meetings, I could already sense how valuable this trip was going to be. One of my original thoughts had been to “sit in the diners and restaurants with the locals” because those gathering places are the soul of a small town. I can choose from dozens of restaurants just within Woodbury, where the fare could range from hot dogs to Filet Mignon, and that’s not even including the rest of the Twin Cities, but with so much to choose from and so many people, there’s not really a feeling of togetherness and community when we go out to eat. We have our favorite places, and in one or two of them a server might actually remember us when we come in.
In Roseau, everyone knows everyone. I loved the sense of that from the moment I arrived, and they all treated me in spectacular fashion.
Two hours later I met with Jon Helgeson, who brought along Scott Vatnesdal, at the Roseau Diner right by my motel. Guess what, again… Yep, Class of ’84. It was a recurring theme. Jon was the only person I met with who was dressed in a business suit. He is part of the third generation of the Helgeson family to own the Helgeson Funeral Home in town. Two more spectacular guys to chat with, and Jon in particular really warmed up to the story I’m planning and he had a lot of great input as to how to make the character be “Roseau accurate” in terms of persona. The bottom line is, Jon totally agreed to my plan to have the kid be an overachiever who simply wills himself to be the best hockey player he can be. I’ll leave the rest of his character a secret until the book comes out, but I’m excited about what we accomplished in that regard at the diner.
My third meeting ended up being cancelled, so I used that time to drive over to Warroad just to see it and get a lay of the land. The towns are so similar in so many ways it’s uncanny, especially considering they are so close to each other but so totally surrounded by rural wilderness. Like Roseau, Warroad has one major employer, and it’s a huge one. Marvin Windows is based in Warroad, and the plant is gigantic. The Marvin family is loyal to their home town and proud of it. And as just a little jab at Roseau, their biggest rival, the arena has the words “HockeyTown USA” on the side of it.
On Monday night, at 7:00, I headed over to Oak Crest Golf Club, to meet with Tracy Ostby and a few more guys who were playing a late round. Tracy runs a website for Roseau hockey and he was the equipment manager for, you guessed it, the 1984 team. During our chat, I met with Brian McMillin who is, remarkably, not an ’84 grad. He’s an ’06 grad who went on to play at Colorado College and then six years of pro hockey at what would be the Double-A equivalent of the minor leagues. Now, he’s back in Roseau as a financial advisor. I also got to meet and chat with Bryan Lundbohm, whom everyone just calls Whitey. More great stories, more great background. And fantastic guys who had all the time I wanted or needed. After just one day, my head was spinning.
I was back at it at 9:00 Tuesday morning, as Larry met me at the County Courthouse to meet Mayor Jeff Pelowski. After the meeting, Larry asked me if it had been a good conversation and I said, “Well, it was great but after I asked my first question I didn’t need to ask many more. The mayor just kept going, and his answers got better and better.” Mayor Pelowski loves his town, and he’s clearly a wonderful leader. He was another person who called the flood a “silver lining” as he detailed all the improvements they’ve made, and how now downtown is as vibrant as it’s ever been. And, as part of the FEMA backing, they’ve finished a diversion channel that will route flood waters away from and around the town should another flood try to happen. It was an honor to spend an hour with the man.
Next was Terry Gotziaman, at Nelson’s Cafe. Terry is the former athletic director at Roseau High, from 1983 to 2010, so he’s about as connected to the program as anyone in town. Fascinating guy, and again a person who could not have been any more gracious. I was close to information overload, but I had so much more to experience.
We were going to meet current head coach Andy Lundbohm at Jake’s Pizza, but he was running late so we met an hour later at the school. That made it possible for me to get the full tour from Larry before I met with Andy. Again, the head coach of this storied hockey program treated me like I was a visiting VIP, and we had a rollicking conversation about a wide range of topics, seated at two desks in his classroom. He also teaches math at Roseau High. And he’s not an ’84 guy either. He’s just a kid. He graduated in 1995. And guess where he went to college… Nope, not the University of Minnesota, or Bemidji State, or Minnesota State Mankato, or University of Minnesota – Duluth, and not even University of North Dakota. All great hockey programs for sure, but Andy went a different way. We accepted an invitation to attend West Point Academy. He played his Division I hockey in the black and gold, for Army.
After his time there, he played six years of minor league hockey, and then came back home to Roseau. Now, he’s the head coach. Awesome guy.
The final treat was yet to come, though. At 6:00 p.m. Larry and I met in front of a small unassuming home on a residential street not far from the golf course. As we walked up to the garage, which is used as a shed and a work space, Larry began showing me all the little creations fabricated and made by the man who lives there. From birdhouses to pieces of art, they are all created from scraps of various materials he finds laying around. And then the man himself came outside, saying loudly, “What’s goin’ on?” followed by, “You must be Bob!” as he pointed at me. This 82-year old marvel of a man was Newell Broten. I soon met his wife Carol and a friend of hers who comes back to Roseau for a few months each summer. Newell and Carol are very special people, and they raised three very special young men.
The Broten boys are Aaron, Paul, and Neal. They all played hockey at Roseau. They all also played hockey in the NHL. Neal was the most successful, but all three boys had lengthy NHL careers, and to do that you have to be great, not pretty good. Neal was a Golden Gopher at The U, and then went on to play more than 1,000 games in the NHL after he was a key part of the 1980 “Miracle On Ice” Olympic team that beat the Soviets and then went on to claim the Gold Medal at Lake Placid. He’s in the US Hockey Hall of Fame. Paul and Aaron were great NHL players, as well, and all three of the boys were Roseau Rams. Their parents, Newell and Carol, have lived in the same home for more than 50 years. And no matter how cold it got each lengthy dark winter, the boys walked to school. As Newell put it, “With Neal you could hardly get him to eat dinner. All he wanted to do was go back to the rink.”
We sat on the Brotens’ porch for more than an hour, and Newell was everything everyone had told me he would be. He’s a gold mine of stories, and a truly hilarious man. He’s all energy, and so proud of his sons. Carol has clearly heard all the stories and jokes far too many times, because every time he’d tell one she’d look straight at me and roll her eyes, while shaking her head. I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing
This impromptu chat was everything Roseau clearly is. It was warm and welcoming, and Newell made it clear that any time I come back up to town that I should show up on the porch and have another chat. No need to call ahead. This is Roseau. These are all such genuine people. Every moment of my two full days were nothing less than an honor.
I finished up my trip up north on Wednesday morning, with another drive back over to Warroad. I was fortunate enough to land some time with their head coach, Jay Hardwick. What I saw with Coach Hardwick was yet another revelation. Warroad may be smaller than Roseau, but it’s full of people with just as much heart and dedication to their team. And they do it right.
I have never before stepped into a high school hockey rink to see absolutely no bleachers. Just 1,800 matching blue stadium seats. It’s about as marvelous a facility as you could ever imagine. I was stunned. And, of course, next to it is another Olympic rink, and between them indoor workout facilities better than most you might find at the minor league professional level.
No expense is spared for their boys. And with Marvin Windows being such a big and important backer of the team and the town, there’s a sense of community from the second you arrive. They’ve done “okay” in terms of famous former players, as well, if by “okay” you mean it’s another incredible list of alumni. Dave Christian’s name will be familiar to anyone who followed that 1980 “Miracle” team, and if you’re a hockey fan right now you’re going to know who T.J. Oshie is. He just won the Stanley Cup with the Washington Capitals.
So, of course, where did Oshie take the Cup when it was his turn to have it (a wonderful NHL tradition, by the way)? He took it to Warroad. They did not have enough room for the number of people who came to see it and show their appreciation for the former Warrior who grew up amongst them.
Now here’s one final thing about Roseau and Warroad. They invest in their people. At Roseau High, there is a gym that is far <FAR> better than the YMCA here in Woodbury, where I spend $110 per month to belong. The high school gym is free. And it’s open to every Roseau resident. As is the pool. And kids can play golf for free, whenever they desire. Warroad is the same way. If you live there, they take care of you.
Times are booming in both towns, and the rivalry between the two teams remains. It’s a hard fought and historic rivalry, but it’s friendly. As most of the guys said, “You want to beat them so bad, and you know it’s going to be tough, but you have friends on that team too. The two towns are almost inseparable. But yeah, you want to beat them more than just about any team.”
Mayor Pelowski let me know, “What’s hard for both of our towns is getting people here. I could add 100 or 200 residents to Roseau right now, with solid good-paying jobs, but we’re a long way up here. In reality, the nearest big city for us is Winnipeg, across the border. So, we have to work with Warroad to make it all happen. We can’t just steal each other’s people. We work together to make these two towns a great place to live.”
They truly are two great places to live. I learned that during my time there. I could not be more impressed. And I plan to get back up there during the winter, because I absolutely must see each team play a home game. I don’t care if it’s 30-below.
Coming home, I mapped out a creative route no one else said they really ever took, and these folks “head down to The Cities” all the time. They just want to get there as quickly as possible, and that means around six hours. I wanted to see parts of the state I’d never visited. So, I drove mostly east out of Warroad, to International Falls. Then south and southeast through the Iron Range section of the state, and the town of Virginia. I made a stop in Eveleth, to see the US Hockey Hall of Fame, and then down to Cloquet where I picked up I-35 southbound. When I got near the Twin Cities, it was startling to see such traffic and such endless suburban sprawl.
Throughout the full 6 and a half hour drive, my head was spinning as the two characters I will create began to come to life for me. Now, I think I may need a trip to Southern California to see what’s going to make my baseball character tick. This is going to be a marvelous process, and I’m beyond excited about it.
I’m also beyond thankful for everything every person I met in Roseau and Warroad did for me. You all could not have been nicer, nor could you have made me feel any more at home. All of you were gracious and spectacular. I’ll never forget a minute of it, but I’ll save the notes and recordings just to be safe. As for Larry Guggisberg, my appreciation is off the charts. You, sir, were incredible.
As always, if you read this blog and enjoyed it, please click on the “Like” button at the top. Do it for the people of Roseau and Warroad. And visit them sometime. It’s worth the trip.
Bob Wilber, at your service and amazed by the experience.