Signs & Wonders Blog

While many Americans today have their minds on the Super Bowl, pop music historians remember this being the anniversary of “The Day the Music Died.” Originating from Don McLean’s classic hit “American Pie”, that phrase summarized a horrific event that happened sixty years ago.  On February 3rd, 1959, a chartered airplane crashed in a frozen field near Mason City, Iowa killing rock stars Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper. This tragedy has been of particular interest to me since their next concert would have been in Moorhead, Minnesota, the city where I grew up. The concert site was only five blocks from the house I would spend most of my childhood. One of the performers who filled in for the deceased musicians was Robert Velline, who went on to a successful career as Bobby Vee. My late father went to high school with Bobby and shared an art class with him. Vee himself died a couple of years ago due to complications from Alzheimer’s disease.  Technicall...

The like-titled 80s hit by the English band Madness has been going through my mind since receiving some disturbing news last Tuesday night. A former schoolmate visiting her parents emailed a message informing me my old childhood home was on fire! After my father and mother both died almost a year ago, the house had been unoccupied and was slated for demolition. Still, the fire department put out the flames and later determined it was caused by an arsonist. I have many memories growing up at 722 5th Street South in Moorhead, Minnesota. Originally built in 1902, this two-story house was bought by my parents in 1970 after renting various places during the early years of their marriage. One exciting thing for me as a six-year-old was having my own room. My little sister and I no longer had to share one. My second-floor bedroom was connected to a sun porch where I often played with my toys. Sometimes I’d open up a glass door and put on puppet shows while neighborhood kids watch...

Jace Lahlum at a water ski club reunion There’s a popular bumper sticker that says, “If you can read this, thank a teacher.” Most of us can recall having a favorite instructor while growing up. Mine was one I had as a high school sophomore in Moorhead, Minnesota. Despite enjoying math during elementary school and junior high, I was never fond of geometry. Just before starting tenth grade, my parents and I met with a guidance counselor to discuss my schedule. Mom and Dad sided with my resistance to geometry but the counselor insisted I should take that subject. During the first day of the 1979-1980 school year, I entered a second-floor classroom for my third-period geometry class. After the bell rang, in walked 35-year-old Jace Lahlum. To my surprise, this teacher had an energetic personality unlike any I’d seen before. Halfway through that first class, I realized Mr. Lahlum looked and sounded like comedian Steve Martin. If he put on a white suit, dyed his hair, and stuck...