The Quick Household
by Ardis Quick

My subscription is probably overdue, so I'm sending a few lines your way. Charlie and I moved Travis back home the weekend of April 24. He has just completed his second year at Western Michigan University. He has decided to transfer to the University of Minnesota and will start in the fall. Plans to start looking for someplace to rent soon. 
Jason just finished his first year of grad school at Georgia Tech in Atlanta. Studying Industrial Design and is working with a group that designs for people needing assistance. He has been healthy for over a year now, which we thank God for. 
Charlie just got back to work last week. He had been laid off since Christmas. Work at 3M is keeping me very busy. I now manage 7 salaried staff and 70 union employees along with all the other management duties that go with it.

Thanks, Aunt Dorothy and all the writers, for keeping this interesting. Love to all...
Editors Note: Ardis is my sister Gert's daughter.

by Carol Printz

We're fine, here in Nebraska. It has been warm and windy the past few days. We're entering the 5th year of drought conditions, so I'm surprised things are as green as they are, under the circumstances. Harold feels his job here is going well. This Co-op is a grain marketing co-op as well as supply co-op. The one in Idaho was supply only ... so the marketing is new to him. He has other employees who specialize in that, though, so doesn't really do it himself. This co-op is the result of a merger of three co-ops that took place a couple of years ago ... so he is working on some things that still need to be brought together about that.

Think I had told you that Cody is living with us. He works at the Cabela's distribution center here. We enjoy being closer to Justin's as well as Cody's son, Austin, who lives with his Mom and Step-Dad in Denver. Eric is in the Coos Bay area of Oregon this year. His co-worker is Craig Jacobson.

We have a larger house and smaller yard here than in Idaho. So it is kind of nice not to have as much yard work.

Editor's note: Carol is the daughter of Lois and Bill Dake (my brother).

The Harold & Carol Printz Family.
Back Row: Harold, Eric, and Cody;
Middle row: Carol, Justin, and Melody (Justin's wife);
The children: Wade and Callie (Justin and Melody's) and Austin (Cody's son).

Day to Day R
With Donna Mae
Ashby, MN

Mother's Day: Don & Dorothy (front); Donna & Beaver (back).

More On Mother's Day

I wondered why this didn't show up in the last Bulletin, until it dawned on me ... we never sent it to anyone! So, hopefully, better late than never!

Beaver and I spent a lovely Mother's Day evening with Mom & Dad at Bug A Boo Bay, which is situated between two lakes and has a rather Caribbean feeling to it. They had not tried this particular Alex restaurant yet and it did take some convincing to get Dad to relax with prices higher than Wendy's, but we did finally manage to do so, and it looked like he enjoyed his barbecued ribs after they came. The rest of us were happy with our choices, too, and it was fun getting some laughs and good visiting done.

Afterwards we toured up north of the area, going between Lake Carlos and Lake Le Homme Dieu. Very pretty area. We checked out the actual town of Carlos, finding the main street rather quaint with a very charming little post office and a gas station that stepped back into the past. Dad got to check things out as we drove, as Beaver was doing the driving, so he commented how much more he got to see on our outing that way. We all enjoyed the time and found it to be a very special evening, quite relaxing and fun!

The Matriarch Speaks W
by Dorothy (Dake) Anderson
Alexandria, MN

Kindergarten, First, and Second Grade, Ashby Elementary School
The children are singing their song, You are our Heroes. Our Great Granddaughter Caity is in the middle of the picture, wearing a Stars and Stripes T-Shirt.

Ashby Elementary Spring Concert
A Tribute to America and our Heroes
Tuesday, May 18, 2004

That is what the program announced. And that is what we received from the students of grades one through six. The students were all dressed up in red, white, and blue and singing by memory song after song celebrating America and its heroes. Between the rousing numbers of music in the program, we listened to readers who gave us background pieces that set the theme.

There were several of the standard patriotic standbys, but my own particular favorite was a number called Fifty Nifty United States. Our Great Granddaughter tells me it is her favorite piece, too (and she sang beautifully and with enthusiasm -- as they all did). Every child knew every state's name and as the name for the state was sung in the song's lyrics, children held up illustrations for that state -- I was totally impressed!

It was especially heart warming to see the total respect given to our flag by all the children. They had obviously been taught flag manners. The program included Posting of the Colors -- by the Ashby American Legion Color Guard. These Veterans of former wars placed the flags in their standards and then led us in the singing of our National Anthem. They remained for the program and then did the Retiring of Colors ceremony.

This was my first visit to the new Ashby school addition. It is beautifully done. The architect has fit the new to the old (and remodeled the old) in such a way that it is one beautifully done unit. If I were twenty years younger, I would apply for a job teaching there!

In with all the new, shiny things, there was one piece being used on the stage that I learned was not new (though it looked it). The lectern that the readers stood by has a special history. It was donated to the school in the 50's and was to serve as a memorial to Bobby Johnson (Don and Twila's son). He had lost his life in a farm accident that summer. In later years, it was modernized by the Johnson family in the name of Bobby's Dad who had passed away, and so now is a memorial to both of them -- and a very useful one.*

It is such a privilege to live close enough to see and enjoy all the special events of our family. Congratulations, Caity, on your well done part in the fantastic program of Ashby Elementary School.

*Editor's Note: Dorothy asked for more details about the lectern she mentioned...

I had long forgotten that the lectern had been refurbished, more than 20 years ago. What I remember is that the original was a handsome blond birch piece, badly scarred by a falling music stand when it was almost new. It always hurt to see it so roughly used and so damaged by negligence and indifference. I'm glad that someone took the initiative and had it restored.

Our brother Bobby (Robert LeRoy Johnson, April 9, 1943-June 22, 1954) was 11 years old when a tractor he was driving along a gravel road slipped off an embankment; it rolled over on top of him, killing him instantly, on the darkest day of our lives.

Beaver was only 3 at the time and can't have much of a memory of his older brother. Richard was 3 months old and has none. Mitzi wasn't even born for several more years. It's almost 50 years ago now, but my sister Kathlyn and I still miss him more than the younger ones could know. (We are very grateful to Beaver for growing into Bobby's shoes and, eventually, our father's, as well. Our family history would be far different had he not risen to the challenge, which could not have been easy.)

Our father (Donald Benjamin Johnson, October 21, 1913-March 17, 1982) also lived a shorter life than he might have, owing to another farm accident in the early 1960s. He scrubbed out an old, unused cistern with something called B-K Powder and Hi-Lex (like Chlorox), which combination apparently liberated chlorine gas and/or other noxious gases in the unventilated space. He breathed in the toxic fumes, scarring his lungs very badly, and ever afterwards endured health problems that apparently stemmed from that day.

Eventually, he had to retire from the hard physical labor of farming, excavating and gravel hauling. He then bought a coin operated laundry in town and built and operated Ashby's "Treasure Cove" in its cavernous back room. He kept it filled to the brim with antiques and all sorts of cast offs and interesting old junk from farm auctions and estate sales until he died, at 68. He would be 90 now ... almost impossible for me to imagine. We ALL miss him, and in us all, his legacy lives on. -- Jerrianne

The Carriage, by Douglas Anderson

Author's Foreword: The activities detailed in the following stories took place in the foolishness of childhood and youth and without the consent or knowledge of any mothers involved, especially mine. Please do not attempt these stunts at home or blame our collective mothers for our inventive lunacy.

        I lurched forward in the rusty, copper-colored seat and sucked in a faceful of hot, August air. Estimated I was going 90 miles per hour, but it was probably more like 25. My body was very small and time and space had a different effect on it then. The monstrosity I was perched precariously atop seemed like a hulking Panzer tank to my underdeveloped sense of perception, rather than the simple single-seater farm carriage it actually was.
       "Mush!" I cried.
       "Mush!" It seemed to bear repeating, even though I was not sure of the significance or origin of the word. I had, at that moment, the distinct and dubious honor of "holding the reins," (Even though there really weren't any, thank goodness; someone may have been really hurt then) of an eager team of cousins and sisters who were pulling me down a pothole checkered dirt driveway that was a minefield of potential bodily harm. I could hear the Killdeer in distant meadows and smell freshly cut grass from across the fields. I could see the swaybacked pony feeding peacefully under the green apple tree and I felt a strange sense of peace, even though I was certain that I was about to die.
        It was a great way for six young cousins to pass time; endlessly tow each other up and down that great dirt driveway until we got bored or someone got hurt, whichever came first.
        I could feel my chariot begin to tremble as we hit the fabled "rough spot."
        "Slow down!" I protested feebly, squeezing the seat tighter.
        "More speed!" came the giggly command from the leader of the team, who was the real controller of operations, despite my position of stature. I could feel panic rising in my bony chest. Why was my trusted team speeding up over the rough spot? What did they have against me? My childish mind could not fathom such things back then, although it is apparent to me now that my sisters and cousins were conspired to kill me back in those seemingly carefree, idyllic days of childhood.
        I considered bailing out, but was very intimidated by the unforgiving terrain of the road beneath me. I decided to try and appeal to their common sensibilities.
        "C'mon, you guys, slow down, willya?" There came a ripple of laughter through the team, and the rusty carriage picked up speed. I could see the mailbox now and I knew my tormentors would have to either relent or push me into the intersecting road. They wouldn't be that bloodthirsty, would they?
        Then came a calling from the direction of the house.
        It was pure Deus Ex Machina, or more precisely, Aunt Gertrude putting the kibosh on the whole operation and saving my sunburned neck one more time. It is small wonder that I hold my Aunt Gertrude in such high esteem to this day, since she saved my life many times before I was nine. One skinny first grade boy against five older (and slightly homicidal) girls was hardly fair, after all. Aunt Gert would have to act as my rescuer more than once in my many tours of duty done on her little farm, only yards away from where the Dustin Family met their unfortunate end at the hands of the Sioux so long ago. It was my privilege to grow up there, at least part time, and experience what a person must experience to really understand what Mark Twain is talking about in his books. Oh yes, and it also was my privilege to experience true terror there, for the first time in my fragile, young life, and then many times to follow.
        I climbed down from the captain's seat and vowed silently through trembling lips that I would never ask to be the driver again.
        "You were trying to kill me!" I confronted my torturers.
        "No we weren't, Dougie. The wagon goes faster when you're the rider 'cos you're so much lighter!" countered Cousin Melanie, the leader of the conspiracy against me. Her co-conspirators all found this very amusing, and regaled like a shanty full of intoxicated parrots.
        "Can I do it again?" I asked, holding my hand over my eyes to block the summer sun.

Travelogue t

The Bolivian Beat
By Kjirsten Swenson

Morochata is cold! In Bolivia, May means fall and winter is fast approaching. Though the temperature changes aren't that extreme, since we're close to the equator, it has been made known that winter will indeed happen. None of the buildings in Morochata are heated... one night I slept in my winter jacket! It doesn't freeze, but the damp cold is pervasive and I find it hard to stay warm when I'm not moving.

A week ago, grades 4 and up piled into the beds of two big trucks and we headed down the road to Chinchiri, an hour away, for an afternoon of song, dance, and much soccer! It was a most lovely day but turned out to be more of an adventure than it should have been ... as is customary, the staff of the host school invited Morochata's staff to eat and drink chicha. Our director and several teachers were more than tipsy by the end of the day. Pulling them out of the party took awhile, and by the time the trucks took off for Morochata it was 7:30 and most definitely dark. It turns out that many students had walked to Chinchiri instead of Morochata that morning, and as a result when it came time to load the trucks in the evening, we didn't fit!

So with the oldest students and several teachers, we took off on foot! We walked for well over an hour beneath spectacular stars in the cold dark before one of the trucks returned to collect us. We didn't arrive until nearly 10, really late for Morochata. Many children still had to walk home, a journey that takes some of them over an hour. Not good!

Children dancing in Chinchiri

*Photo Editor's Note: If you wish to see more of Kjirsten's photos, this is from her Bolivia 3 album posted here:

Kodak Birdcam 2004: Peregrine Falcon Feeding Five Young Eyases

Click on the link above to visit the Kodak Birdcam and watch the falcons in their nest box near the top of the Kodak tower in Rochester, NY. Peregrine Falcons mate for life and return to the same nest each year. Mariah & Kaver returned in March and produced five eggs that hatched a week or two ago. The parents will be very busy hunting to feed their growing brood until the young eyases have fledged and flown and are able to hunt on their own and care for themselves. Five webcams in and around the nest box record the show ... Kodak's main camera produced this photo on Sunday, May 16, 2004, at 7:21 a.m.

This and That
by Elaine Wold
Wahpeton, ND

The Unheard of Vacation
Author Unknown

He drove, she was the navigator,
I'll tell you more about that later.
She said,"Go east on 94"
He said, "I thought you greased the door."
She didn't want to start a feud,
And so she planned a different route.

But when she said,"Go south on 3"
He took the route to Mandaree,
When she said,"Take this underpass"
He took the sign that offered gas.
When she said,"Take left on Branch"
He took the right to Lefty's Ranch.

It didn't get a whole lot better
She raved a few times, he just let her,
When she said,"Could I have a Kleenex?"
He took the exit into Phoenix.
They didn't have a reservation
But still they had a great vacation.

Before they take their trip next year,
He'll buy some aids to help him hear!
For though they fancied Arizona,
They still need to see the kids in Daytona!

Celebrations & Observances
From the Files of
Hetty Hooper

This Week's Birthdays:

May 23---Don Pettit
May 24---Amy Ellen Dake
May 26---Rick Anderson
May 28---Jason Hunt
May 28---Jazmine Jane Hill (1 year old)
May 29---Kristi Kay Indermark

Happy Birthday!

This Week's Anniversaries:

May 27---Dwight and Janie Anderson's Wedding Anniversary (33rd)

Many Happy Returns!

This Week's Graduations:

May 29, 2004---Dan Mellon
(Bachelor of Science in Business & Management from University of Redlands, California)


More May Birthdays:
May 4---Beau Birkholz
May 7---Ben Johnson
May 10---Curt Henderson
May 12---James Dake
May 14---Ernie Dake
May 16---Angelie Ann Freesemann
May 17---Dwight Anderson
May 19---Ryan Hellevang
May 22---Dan Henderson

May 31---Mavis Morgan

More May Anniversaries:
May 16---Nathan and Brenda Hill's Wedding Anniversary (8th)
May 20---Steve and Marian Miller's Wedding Anniversary (34th)

May 31---Tom and Mavis Morgan's Wedding Anniversary (47th)

More May Graduations

May 15, 2004---Tami S. Anderson
(Doctor of Optometry degree from Pacific University)
May 15, 2004---Eric Shockey
(Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering from University of North Dakota)

May 15, 2004---Melanie Shockey
(Bachelor of Accountancy from University of North Dakota)

May Holidays & Observances

May 9---100th Issue of The Bulletin

May 31---Memorial Day (observed)

Greeting Card Responses

From Janie Anderson:
Dwight says, "That was pretty cute! Thank you very much! We even played it TWICE!"

Just a line to tell you thank you (long overdue) for the special e-Mother's Day Greeting! Cute! I just played it again tonight ... very special! Thank You! -- Muriel

Keep Us Posted!

Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?

'Many Thankse

Miss Hetty


A Letter FROM The Editor:
Dear Kim,

Thank you so much for the fun and interesting travelogue -- I do hope to run more of your work in the near future... One question that I have been wondering about -- I always heard that sting rays were dangerous and that their sting was very painful, so -- how did all of you people dare get in the water with them?


Kim's Reply --
Grandma --
Well ... most of them do, but back in the "olden days" fishermen would drop off all of their old bait and such. And eventually the sting rays were pretty good buddies with people in general. So this place is one of [a few, or perhaps] the only, nature-tamed sting ray places in the world, I think. When I say "nature-tamed," I mean tamed without being in a cage, or things like that. It was pretty incredible!

Thanks ... bye

Photo Editor's Note: Kimberly, I also hope you'll keep contributing and encourage others to do likewise. I thought your series worked out great ... bite sized pieces with accompanying photos. Thanks for sticking with it and completing the series. Even a single photo with informative caption material makes a great addition to The Bulletin. We'll be watching for those graduation, wedding, anniversary and birthday photos, too. Don't be shy! The more participants the better and we'll do our best to make everyone's contribution look wonderful and make us all proud. Keep up the good work! -- Jerrianne

A testimonial inspired by Donna --

I'd commented on The Bulletin to Bridget, so sent the last one for her to read ... this is her reply --Donna
From: Bridget Larson
To: Donna Johnson
Subject: Re: The "Bulletin" my Mom sends out

Just read all the articles, some twice. You have some talented writers!
Keep up the good job!


Computer break down -- major problem! I was really sweating it ... I was afraid all our e-mail would be lost!!! But thank goodness, The Bulletin was there! I told Wes ... I think I need my OWN computer!

Hope to talk to you girls soon ... now that I am back on line!
Jo Anne (Sigman)


from Barb Dewey

Author Unknown

Can't Eat

Can't eat beef............mad cow

Can't eat chicken.............bird flu

Can't eat eggs.........cholesterol

Can't eat pork...............bacteria

Can't eat fish..............mercury

Can't eat fruit ............insecticides

Can't eat vegetables...........herbicides

Now, the way I see it, that only leaves


QUOTATION FOR THE DAY: Spend your vacation in your own backyard, and your friends will know the kind of person you are : sensitive, introspective, home-loving, and BROKE! --Baxter Lane

EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is

This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.