Documenting the Present, the second part of the Kossuth County Historical Society’s motto, is taken very seriously. It is one of the goals of the society to make the present be preserved for generations to come.
A way to do that is by encouraging people to consider donating items to the society before tossing them out. Although limited to items that are 50 years old with a connection to Kossuth County, there are probably a lot of meaningful, historic items that are being trashed.

125 Years Ago –
Over at Denison a man named Gregory sued the Northwestern for $1,900 damages for putting him off the train. He brought a dog with him and the conductor put both off. The court now holds that he had no right to bring the dog, and that the company is not liable.
Read more items from Out of the Past in the June 4 edition of the Kossuth County Advance.
 

Remember two weeks ago I wrote about my disastrous attempt to patch my leaky birdbath? I was conquered by an evil entity called Flextape, which also conquered three pairs of my good scissors.

That our nation will lose more than 100,000 to COVID-19 is a human disaster. It already has killed more people in a few months than die annually from the flu. The problem with COVID-19 is it is so contagious. Though Kossuth County, as of Tuesday, had just seven confirmed cases, we would be foolish to think there are not more – many more.

The COVID-19 pandemic has magnified many problems in our country. One of the most glaring is the disappearance of local journalism. While people are increasingly turning to local journalists for information on how the pandemic is impacting their communities, advertisers are cutting their budgets to account for an economy in rapid decline. This means newspapers that were struggling to get by now face the prospect of being shuttered entirely.

Anytime a person reads a novel steeped in magic realism, a suspension of disbelief is required. When a magic realism novel is an urban fantasy filled with werebirds, werewolves and vampires, it requires a very open mind.

I finished last week’s column by stating that the 1918 flu pandemic had reached Kossuth County around the first of October and that the illnesses and deaths had begun to mount.

Rural Iowans have done a tremendous job of social distancing and reacting to the requests of the state and federal governments when it comes to the COVID-19 coronavirus – or we’ve just been lucky.

When I was growing up on my great-grandfather’s farm east of Lone Rock, numerous times during my youth my great-grandparents, Karl and Olga Ewoldt, talked about surviving the flu pandemic of 1918. At one point during that period, both of them, plus their daughters, Elva, my great-aunt; and Ella, my grandmother, all contracted the flu at the same time.

 I had a wrestling match last week with something called Flextape. I lost. Furthermore, I also lost three pairs of scissors and my temper.
Flextape is the devil’s invention.
It all started with a leaky birdbath. Last year, I managed to repair the leaks with some kind of caulking. It held all summer, but alas, this year the birdbath leaked like the proverbial sieve.
Read the rest of Molly's Ink Spots in the May 21 Advance.
 

Every crisis has new heroes. During the 9/11 attacks, they were the first responders running into burning and crumbling buildings as others ran out.  Now, during the coronavirus COVID-19 pandemic, the most visible heroes are the health care professionals, who are saving others and risking their own lives while doing so.

150 Years Ago: Wisconsin House, On North side of the Public Square, has just been refitted and put in order for the accommodation of the traveling public. My motto is “live and let live,” and when travelers call at the Wisconsin House they can get good warm meals at any hour of the day. Plenty of barn room and good stabling for teams. J.W. Mayo.

Our national dialogue is consumed with discussion about health, safety, freedoms and liberties. There is no doubt Iowans are concerned about these important matters. It is vital to find a balancing act between protecting the public health and ensuring the continuation of civil society.

Major League Baseball players wonder whether they have a beef with their pay.
A report last week showed the average annual salary for a big leaguer was about $4.4 million, and the increase in pay has averaged about 0.25 percent per year for the last four. That’s when the owners put a luxury tax in place to penalize higher-spending owners who were soaking up the talent. The tax is rolled back into other Major League Baseball team owners’ pockets.

After a fun day and a half in Marengo visiting with our friends and looking over that area, we loaded into our friends’ car, and we headed out on the four-hour drive to Chicago O’hare International Airport.
We unloaded our luggage in the pouring rain and bid our goodbyes. Inside, as we stood in line to check our luggage and get boarding passes, a lady behind us with one piece said, “It looks like you are moving to Europe.” Yes, we had a lot of luggage.