But there is no harvest without work.
Written By:
Mike Jacobs | ×
Mike Jacobs, Grand Forks Herald columnist.
GRAND FORKS In another dry spring not so many years ago, while the wind howled and the dust blew, I expressed alarm to my farmer neighbor. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Plant in the dust and the bins will bust.”
I laughed then, but as I’ve mulled those words through the years, I come to respect their profound message of resignation and of hope.
So, on Saturday, I planted potatoes.
In her column on Saturday, the Grand Forks Herald s Ann Bailey described the Irish tradition of planting potatoes on Good Friday. I was a day late this year. Nevertheless, the potatoes are in the ground. As protection against potential frost, I mulched them well.
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Mike Jacobs: Hope persists in a dry spring
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On most days of the year in the early 1900s, Battle Harbour, on Labrador’s rugged coast, is pretty quiet. The busiest this cod-fishing station gets is when a big catch of fish comes in, and the air buzzes with excitement and activity as the haul is brought ashore.
But in September 1909, a buzz of a different kind fills the salty air. The tiny village, population 300, finds itself at the center of a media frenzy it hasn t seen before or since.
Against a backdrop of fishing boats bobbing expectantly in the harbor, dozens of reporters wearing hats and long, thick coats to guard against the chill have descended on the wooden dock, waiting for a press conference with Robert E. Peary. These men have one goal: To get the scoop from Peary on the historic first conquest of the North Pole.
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It’s April 6, 1909, and Robert E. Peary and his assistant Matthew Henson are settling in at yet another camp during their third attempt to reach the North Pole. It’s something they’ve done countless times during the course of their journeys together, but on this otherwise unremarkable stretch of ice, their once-elusive goal is now within reach.
As they and the Inughuit guides unpack their supplies, tend to the dogs, and begin food preparations, Peary unfurls an American flag that his wife Josephine had sewn for him years earlier. He fastens it to the top of the camp’s igloo. Henson watches as the star-spangled silk springs to life on a polar breeze, a symbol of their triumph.