Stuffed inside the bag I carry back and forth to work every day was a ream of papers I refused to let myself believe I’d ever have to peruse. I had gathered together the research three or four years ago, the first time the media fueled speculation about living legend Brett Favre and his supposed intent to walk away from a game he obviously loved, from fans who adored him and from a team as much a part of my childhood as the Green Bay Packers bed sheets made for me by my Aunt Lois.
Baby Hope was a fighter. Had to be. “God gave her a crappy body,” her grandmother said.RELATED CONTENT
While hardly a Republican stronghold now, the Northland does have its GOP roots.
Earlier this month, Kathy Brock traveled to Duluth from her home in Coloma, Wis., to say thank-you to the many men and women of St. Mary’s hospital who, for three months a summer ago, cared for and kept alive her granddaughter, Hope, after the little girl was born with “a crappy body,” as her grandmother once put it.
After spending part of her childhood on a Rice Lake Road dairy farm, after working 20 years as a secretary for Family of God Lutheran Church on Martin Road, and after raising five kids with a husband employed at one time by National Iron, Gloria Albrecht writes.RELATED CONTENT
HAYWARD — Robbie Knievel knows what it must have been like for me as a kid — and for my mom, who wanted only for me to have a good Christmas.RELATED CONTENT
To achieve his first-class ranking as a Boy Scout, Donn Larson was required to complete a 14-mile hike. So in the summer of 1942, at the age of 13, he hoofed it from his boyhood home on 38th Avenue West in West Duluth up the hill to Skyline Parkway and then west across the Skyline ridge to Bardon’s Peak. Seven miles one way plus seven miles back and he had his ranking.
Scott Mitchen of Ashland is a veteran diver and longtime shipwreck hunter who knows a thing or two about scallywags and cowardly swabs. And after discovering a real pirate ship off the Virgin Islands in 1990, he can thrill just about anyone with tales of treasure.RELATED CONTENT
Driving along U.S. Highway 53, just northwest of Duluth, Marilyn Lueck’s cousin suddenly burst out laughing. The visitor from Chicago had spotted a sign for Twig and her guffawing at the word prompted a question in the car. Just how did Twig get its name?RELATED CONTENT
The two slabs of concrete piled one on top of the other just outside the grandest of Duluth’s many grand and historic old brownstone buildings is far larger than it needs to be for a flagpole. Yet Old Glory is precisely what’s flying in front of old Duluth Central High School.RELATED CONTENT
Maybe Robert Ginn’s fuzzy recollections of burying a time capsule outside Fairmount School in West Duluth weren’t so fuzzy.
The “rocket” tower that can be seen across the Twin Ports is a communications tower built decades ago to beam telephone signals to towers in Pattison Park and Poplar.RELATED CONTENT