1985-86...when we moved to North Dakota

Belinda and I were married on October 26, 1985, in Glendive, Montana. Soon after our wedding, I learned that Mid-Rivers Telephone Cooperative was going to "down-size" its work force. Not wanting to take any chances, I started looking for a new job and was hired by MDU Resources Group, Inc., which meant that we would be moving from Glendive to Mandan about the first of the year. Here's an account of our move and our first few days in our new home:

Belinda and I moved to Mandan, North Dakota, on December 27, 1985, a Friday. We were going to move on the 26th but the roads were closed. Belinda's dad, Leo Doll, drove a U-Haul truck filled with our furniture. Rosaline, Belinda's mom, drove Belinda’s car, a 1980 Brown Skylark, which was filled with boxes of food and TV sets. Belinda, Molly our cat, and I drove down in my 1981 Honda Accord. 

The roads were atrocious, lots of ice and snow blowing around. When we arrived at our new home in Mandan, the Bob Lutkats, the previous owners, were still here moving things so we went out and ate lunch. When we got back to our new home, they were gone. 

Leo backed the U-Haul up to our door. Belinda’s uncles Philip, Clifford and Herbie helped us unload the boxes. Our new home is at 1302 Second Street Northeast in Mandan. We had boxes piled everywhere and in every room, upstairs and down. 

We were tired when we finished so we took Leo, Rosaline and Belinda's youngest sister Darcy to Skippers along with Grandma Frohlich and Uncle Philip. We spent our first night at Grandma and Philip’s house. 

The next morning (December 28) we ate at Dakota Farms. Leo paid. Then we back to Grandma’s. Leo called his son John to see how the roads near Glendive were. John said the Conoco station where we borrowed the U-Haul from was already asking for it. Leo, Rosaline and Darcy headed back for Glendive. 

Belinda and I went to our new home to begin unpacking. We spent our first night at our home. We slept in the living room on our couch which makes into a bed. We still had lots of boxes to unpack. 

On Monday, December 30, I started working at MDU. I was pretty much in awe and thought everything was happening pretty fast. When I was at work, Belinda was getting our house in order. 

This is how we began our new lives as a married couple for only two months in a new state with a new job. 

Can you fry chicken?

Some years ago, a man in his early 60s was offered $200,000 for a motel-restaurant-gas station business that he had devoted his life to. He turned the offer down because he was too young to retire. By the time he turned 65, he was flat broke because a new highway bypassed his business. So with his Social Security check in hand, he decided to set out in his battered car with a pressure cooker and a can of specially prepared flour...determined to make a new life for himself.

Of course, that's the story of Harland Sanders, the man who started the chain still called Kentucky Fried Chicken or KFC. The Colonel's face still adorns the buckets of chicken that are sold everyday of the week. His is a true American success story.

But it got me to wondering, what else could I do so I could feed my family if my job were to end at the Lignite Energy Council? Well, I used to be the editor of a weekly newspaper and spent about half my time running a printing press. I'm not sure I could learn that trade again because it's been 30 years since I ran a press and I'm sure technology is quite a bit different than the early 1980s. In fact, the modern copier and the computer has made a lot of printing jobs obsolete. Maybe I should look elsewhere.

When I was in college, I worked in a bakery, but we don't have a bakery in Bismarck anymore. Or at least not one that makes bread and rolls like we did at Eddy's bakery in Missoula. There's a bakery called "Bread Poets" but its a small "mom and pop" operation that has a few employees but basically bakes bread and cookies for people who pop in and buy their goods. They are not widely distributed to grocery stores, but maybe I could get a job at Bread Poets.

What else could I do? Well I could try to get another job in public relations or with a newspaper, but that's not as adventuresome as Colonel Sanders.

Some misguided people have thought I missed my calling and I really should have been a preacher. But since my wife is the secretary of our church, I'm well aware of all the heartburn that a preacher puts up with. I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a preacher. In fact, I think it might be depressing. I met a man through Toastmasters who was a former Lutheran minister in Minot. He told me he quit working as a pastor because he was clinically depressed. I'm afraid I might join him if I decided to be part of the clergy.

So what else is left? I fancied myself as an artist when I was young...however, after taking an art class, I found myself completely devoid of artistic talent.

I see these buses driving around Bismarck without a single passenger in them. I suppose I could drive a city bus. I mean, there would be no one to complain if the bus was late, because no one rides the bus. However, our city streets are often ice covered in the winter. I'm not sure I would want to drive a bus on icy roads eight hours a day.

Hmmm, I'm running out of choices. I know a couple of people who used to have jobs like mine and when they found themselves unemployed, they tried their hand at sales. However, I don't think that ended very well for them because there are lots of people selling everything. The competition is fierce. I think some people were meant for sales, but I'm not sure it's me. I tried to sell newspaper ads years ago and didn't have very good luck at it. I doubt I would be much better at selling houses or cars.

Well, I've about run out of options. I guess my best hope is to keep the job I have. I'm not sure there is anything else I can do...or at least, not very well. So if someone wants to know if I can fry chicken, I better tell them "no."

Actually, this reminds me a lot of when I graduated from high school and my classmates were undecided about their career choices because they could choose so many different fields. Me? I went into journalism because it was the one thing I was good at. I can't fry chicken, but I can write and I have a pretty good imagination. Maybe I could be a novelist. No, that wouldn't work....I need something that brings home a paycheck. I better continue to bloom where I've been planted.