News Cut Category Archive: Life

Dennis LeTourneau knows where he'd be today if not for some of the people in the Hennepin County judicial system. "I'd be dead," he said without hesitation. He is sure heroin would've killed him.

LeTourneau was one of 23 people graduating today from the Hennepin County Drug Court, a unique program that people who know what they're talking about insist is the answer to reducing the problem of repeat criminal activity from addicts. It's the second graduating class since the program was changed to focus on addicts.

People who choose the drug court system undergo a 12-month program that includes 12-step meetings, therapy, and education classes. They have to report to probation officers and agree to be tested.

"It costs $36,000 to send someone to prison, " Supreme Court Chief Justice Eric Magnuson said today. "It costs $6,000-$9,000 to get them through Drug Court." Nonetheless it's a tough sell at the Capitol. Magnuson eliminated pay raises for judges in his budget request this year, but included $6 million for Drug Court.

When it comes time to convince legislators, Magnuson could do worse than have them listen to LeTourneau, or Mindy Heinkel, who thanked her probation officers and judges today noting, "It changed my life forever." James Hill said his probation officer joked with him "we can always execute" during his 12-months in the program.

It wasn't a hard program for LeTourneau. "The hard part was making the decision (to go through the program), because I was still in that life," he said. That life was a heroin addiction that started five years ago. He remembers his first shot of heroin and why he took it. "I had a girlfriend who was into it," he said.

LeTourneau has gotten clean, earned his GED, and started a business. He's also mentoring others who are in the program, according to his probation officer, Stacey Pratt (shown below congratulating graduate James Hill). "It was easy for him because he made his mind up at the beginning that he would remain determined to turn his life around."

While receiving plaques at the Hennepin County Government Center this afternoon, many graduates hugged or at least shook hands with a gauntlet of probation officers. A couple muttered "thanks," and walked away, turning their back without acknowledging the people they had to call every day for a year.

But most also knew where they'd be today otherwise. "I know people in prison who'd give their left arm for this chance," LeTourneau said.

This Saturday, an Aberdeen, South Dakota basketball coach is likely going to pass legendary hoops coach Bobby Knight for most collegiate victories. They have a few things in common besides basketball. Knight is known for throwing chairs. Don Meyer, the coach at Northern State University, has to sit in one; he's been in a wheelchair since last September when he fell asleep while driving to a team retreat and hit a semi-truck head-on.

His leg was amputated and during the operations to put him back together, doctors discovered he has cancer in his liver.

"I have to be strong for our team now," he told a local newspaper. "When alone with my wife, I might not be as strong, and I might break down and cry and wonder how I'm going to deal with (the cancer). When you are with people you work with, it's easier to be strong."

Today he told South Dakota Public Broadcasting "the people of South Dakota would do anything for people who need a hand," and he knows that first-hand. And like Coach Knight, his players insist he teaches more than basketball. Take this description of the accident in a recent Sports Illustrated article:

When his players reached the car, Meyer was still conscious, but his left side was battered. Yet instead of panicking, the players summoned the poise that Meyer had already cultivated in them. One of them called 911. Senior captain Kyle Schwan asked a few veteran players to help the younger players form a prayer circle, then joined graduate assistant Matt Hammer and sophomore guard Brett Newton next to Meyer.

Schwan grabbed Meyer's hand, and the young men fell back on the slogans of the practice court. We've gotta be tough, Coach! It's the fourth quarter! Dead-ball breathing! Narrow focus! NBA! Next Best Action!

"They saved my life," says Meyer, who was airlifted to an Aberdeen hospital after a 30-minute wait.

"It's a testament to Coach," Schwan says. "In essence he saved his own life because of the way he taught us."

Meyer, 64, will coach in his wheelchair Saturday night. A win against the University of Mary gives him his 903rd of his coaching career, one more than Knight.

(Photo courtesy of Northern State University)

We pause now to say something nice about downtown St. Paul. This afternoon, a small group of us went to the skating rink in downtown St. Paul next to Landmark Center. The weather was so cold (9 degrees) that even many Minnesotans said it was too cold to skate. But, in our continuing News Cut theme of "embracing winter," anything above -10, with bright sunshine, and with one of the world's most gorgeous buildings as a backdrop, it wasn't too cold. Oh, did I mention it's free? ($2 if you want to rent skates).

There were only three people on the ice when we showed up. Famed Realtor and blogger Teresa Boardman came to take some pictures (she took the one above). Equally famed blogger Mitch Berg stopped by to say "hello."

We're going to try to do this again next Friday, and we hope you'll stop by to join us, especially if you can't skate very well.

In the picture above (left to right): Annie Baxter, Tom Weber, Betsy Cole, Julia Schenkler, and some doofus. You can find more of Teresa's pictures here, all of which are a reminder that when it comes to winter, St. Paul "gets it."

Take that, Minneapolis.

It would be a pleasant diversion if the year-end reviews of the news that are so commonplace, would include the many kindnesses extended by average people to other average people who have done extraordinary things.

If they did, the story of Joe Gomer, 87, and the people of Duluth would certainly make the list.

Joe is a Tuskegee Airman, an African American World War II pilot, one of a couple hundred who are still alive. Barack Obama invited them to his inauguration, but there were no plans made to transport them around Washington or find them a place to stay. When you're 80 and 90 years old, you don't just fly off somewhere without having things like that settled. Besides, hotels in the DC area are ushering in the era of change by jacking hotel prices up to around $1,000 a night.

An article in Monday's Duluth News Tribune (reg. required)started the donations. A travel agency and the Experimental Aircraft Association picked up the tab for the travel, and some Minnesotans have made arrangements with friends or relatives in the DC area to provide accommodations.

A similar story is playing out in Indiana. Quentin Smith, 90, told the Indiana Post Tribune a similar story. A day or so later, Smith had all he needed. "I was indifferent about going, really, but after all this the last few days, I feel obliged to go," he said Wednesday, chuckling. "I had no idea that many people cared about my going."

If you'd like to read more about Joe Gomer's WWII exploits, visit a Web site dedicated to him from his daughter.

You know by now that Barack Obama has been named Time's Person of the Year. Who saw that coming?

But who is your person of the year? Someone you know who made a difference in your life or someone else's life. It could be a big thing, it could be a little thing, it just has to be a thing that impressed the heck out of you.

I am not -- by virtue of DNA -- an optimist, and I've made a good living not being one. Still, when I opened up this morning's Star Tribune to read that not enough people are donating to the Salvation Army or Toys for Tots or the food shelves, I couldn't help but notice that thousands and thousands of people are. People are still often doing the best they can to help people they don't know.

Buried deep -- far too deep -- in the story was Kathy Ware, a public health nurse from Inver Grove Heights, who can't throw as much money into the Salvation Army pot this year as in past years, so she's helping out in another way -- she's taking her turn standing by the kettle ringing a bell.

And that's our DNA. Generosity and anonymity go hand in hand.

In today's New York Times, Ted Gup, a professor of journalism at Case Western Reserve University, writes about growing up in Canton, Ohio. Around Christmas 1933, a local newspaper ran the story of Mr. B. Virdot , who vowed to help 75 unfortunate families, men and women "who might otherwise "hesitate to knock at charity's door for aid." He was said to be a man who was prosperous, lost it all during the Depression, and then returned to prosperity.

"...to me, the story had always served as an example of how selfless Americans reach out to one another in hard times," Gup wrote. "I can't even remember the first time I heard about Mr. B. Virdot, but I knew the tale well."

This past summer, Gup finally found out who the Mr. B. Virdot was.

It was his grandfather.

A day after Veterans Day, four Twin Cities area vets got a 22-harmonica salute on Wednesday. (Left to right) Marie White, Merlin Marlow of Robbinsdale, Howard Helland of New Hope and Larry Robillard of Bloomington, are the oldest members of the Silvertones Harmonica Group.

Every Wednesday for more than seven years now, they and a couple of dozen others have met for a few hours in the Winnetka Learning Center in New Hope, ostensibly to play harmonicas together, but mostly to just be with each other. On Wednesday, their group serenaded them with some patriotic songs and then listened to their war stories. About 50 others showed up to listen.

"I was teaching harmonicas at the high school," Marlow said. "I came to the learning center and decided to start a band here. We started with four people and before long we had 27."

Robillard, 89, played with the Minnetonka Harmonicas before moving to the Silvertones. "It kind of dissolved," he said. "People died."

"When I was about 14 years old, I used to go up to Milaca and work on my aunt's dairy farm," Marlow said, describing his start in harmonica showbiz. "She played the harmonica and said, 'Merlin, you're going to learn how to play the harmonica. At night when we started milking the cows, she had me play the harmonica because the cows gave more milk."

Marlow went off to war before the others. He joined the Navy and served on the carrier Enterprise and thanks God that a storm delayed the carrier's scheduled December 7, 1941 return to Pearl Harbor by one day. . Helland was an engineer based in Iceland. Robillard was assigned to a destroyer, and White was a nurse with the Blue Devils 88th Division in Italy.

A national law firm is providing a benefit unique to a generation. A support line for members of the "sandwich generation," the baby-boomers who are trying to raise their own kids, while also taking care of their parents, according to the Boston Globe. Goodwin Proctor is setting up a hotline specifically for care-givers in its employ:

Staffed by registered nurses and geriatric social workers, it will help employees navigate the complex maze of medical and social services for the elderly and disabled, including housing, transportation, insurance, nutrition, and nursing care.

It will also offer assessments and referrals, and will field questions such as how to persuade aging parents to move into assisted living or give up their driver's licenses.

In turn, the firm hopes the service will improve productivity and reduce turnover, since the time demands and emotional toll of caregiving can have a deleterious effect on workplace performance.

About 20 million people are in the "sandwich generation." Joan Brunwasser, who heads a national group for election reform, described the challenges last week when her mother got sick near Election Day:

My mother was most considerate about when she get sick. Timing really is everything. Had she been ill on Monday night, I would have been hard pressed to be downtown with her and at my polling place by 5:00 the next morning. (I was a volunteer poll watcher on November 4th.) Likewise, if she had gotten sick on Election Day itself, I would have been physically incapable of responding that evening. After that long, long day, I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. At least I was able to rack up one good night's sleep before the flu struck. Way to go, Mom!

Companies have good reason to consider adding the benefit. Members of the "sandwich generation" are more likely to get sick themselves, or lead an unhealthy life, according to a study this month from Indiana University.

Compared with people caring for a single generation, people in the sandwich generation were less likely to check food labels, wear seat belts or choose foods based on health values. They also smoke more.

Are you a member of the sandwich generation? Tell me about your life. You can either post in the comments below, or write to me using this form and we can talk about it.

The economic meltdown is bad. Most of us are pretty scared, more than a little angry, and our ears perk up when we hear people throw the "D" word around pretty loosely.

Earlier this week, a poll showed that almost 60% of those surveyed think a depression is likely. "Most of those people don't know their history," a guest said Wednesday on MPR's Midmorning.

Elizabeth Schaefer, 86, of Shoreview is as good a history book as any of the thousands she probably touched in her career as a librarian. She was born seven years before the stock market crash of 1929 and grew up during the Great Depression.

Elizabeth was born in Chicago. Her mother took care of the kids and kept an eye on the money. Her father worked as a railroad engineer when the railroad had work.

"They didn't talk about their financial problems with us, but they must have saved their money, because my father wanted a place where we could walk to school without crossing the street, so he went out for a loaf of bread one day and came back with a house (See photo)," she told me during my visit at her retirement community in Shoreview.

Her parents were strict and kept the kids in the yard and sent them to a Catholic school. "My mother refused to buy the school uniforms so she made them for us. But, of course, it didn't look like everyone else's."

"Mom was always saving," Elizabeth said. "She'd make a little bit of meat and a lot of noodles to go with the soup. You were supposed to add one can of water and she'd add two." In the evenings, men would knock on the door looking for food. Her mother would share the supper. They'd eat it out on the porch and then move along. "We were fortunate we had a house to live in," she said.

Her mother kept strict track of what it took for her to go to college. "It was $800 and I paid it all back my first year." She worked as a librarian for 25 cents an hour. She tried to get a job in a library in Chicago, but didn't realize when she submitted an application to the alderman, she was supposed to include a bribe.

After getting married, she says she never had any arguments with her husband over money. "He'd cash his check and put it on the dresser, after putting some in the bank."

She never stopped "saving things that possibly had another life." At her retirement home, people put things they don't want anymore in a cart. She pulls things out of the cart and offers it to others. How often do they take it? "Not too often," she says.
She, too, made her childrens' clothes when they were small. Her kids have grown up to be frugal, but also generous with others through food drives and other charity.

How does she view the panic of the last few weeks?

"It's out of my hands and you just have to trust that God's gonna... whatever happens happens and hope somehow you have what it takes to cope with it," she said.

She says she always talked to her daughters about saving for tough times. "People didn't do that because they didn't believe that. They'd make fun of you for being frugal. You never know what's going to come. I see so many people that... when people get married, they think they have to start out with a house and everything in it, stuff that people worked for years to save for...I'd die before I'd pay finance charges on credit cards. It seems like if you don't have the money for it, you go without it until you do have it."

Things are bad. Things may get worse. But there's plenty of evidence that says it's no Great Depression.

I'm not much of a photographer, but even if I were, I have a rinky-dink camera that doesn't take much of a picture. But if you live in the Twin Cities, the chances are pretty good you saw it: One of the most vibrant rainbows anyone has ever seen. It went from horizon to horizon (this picture was just outside the door of the world headquarters of News Cut).

No, there's no pot of gold to be found. But, you know, the market had another bad day today, the economy is in complete shambles, and many of our workplaces and families are being (or about to be) decimated by layoffs.

What do you say that just for now, we believe that it really is a sign?

If you could write a letter to the people who will soon be raising the next generation, what would it say?

Dear parents of the next generation:

Don't stink at it.

Love,
Bob

I'm thinking about this because of an informative -- for some of us, depressing -- op-ed piece in the Star Tribune today by William J. Doherty, a professor of family social science and director of the Families and Democracy Project at the University of Minnesota. In Mom and Pop go over the top, Doherty takes on "hyper-parenting," specifically, attending your children's sports events:

The mark of a good parent in today's world is personal chauffeuring rather than group carpooling, cheering loudly from the sidelines at all games, advocating with coaches for their child's playing time, and backing away from any activity (such as family dinners and PTA meetings) that conflicts with year-round sports schedules that rival those of professional athletes. The top-rated parents become agents for their children's sports careers; average parents just try to keep their balance in a world that rewards excess.

... and....

It's ironic that parents who would never miss an athletic event often overlook what research and common sense attest are the most important activities that parents do with their children, things like having meals with them and quietly reading to them

Hyper-parenting, according to Dr. Alvin Rosenfeld is full of terrible consequences:

We suspect that this hyper-rearing way of life contributes to the increasing incidence of teen-age depression, substance abuse and sexual acting out. So what should parents do? Cutting back just 5-7 percent in scheduled activities can help families embrace sanity. Character development and interpersonal relationships can become central again, as they should, by de-emphasizing activities and accomplishments.

I have recently entered the phase of my life where my children are grown and -- mostly -- on their own. Neither of them has stuck up a bank (yet) or joined a violent underground movement to overthrow the country (yet). And so I have more time to reflect on their upbringing by reading articles like Professor Doherty's. It's guilt time.

I was one of the baby boomers who took comfort in the salve of the observation of the '80s that my generation of fathers would be more engaged in the raising of their children than our fathers who, if we read between the lines of the observation, apparently did it all wrong and we turned out as perfect as we were because of (a) our mothers and (b) our own cunning.

A generation later, we are learning that we did it wrong, too, and the correct way of raising children is -- as it turns out -- the way our fathers and mothers did. Who knew?

Parents of the next generation, here's tip #1. There's always someone out there telling you you're doing it wrong, warning you to change your ways before your kids rob a bank and undermine the government. Be ready for it.

You'll be constantly bombarded with studies and articles to make you question the quality of your parenting. Let's just take this week, for example: