Tracing Roots, and They Look Lutheran

I had a blast visiting my friends Brian and Julie in Minneapolis (I only made one touristy stop on the way there to see the corn palace in Mitchel, South Dakota, and who can blame me?) We hung out, ate amazing food, hit the farmer’s market and reminisced about the good old days. Alas, I only had two days to spare in that lovely city and had to hit the road again, but not before visiting the Lake Wobegon Trail near St. Cloud. Yep, I’m a Garrison Keillor fan. I come from a long line of Lutherans—both sides—so it’s in my blood:

Since I’m trying to see all fifty states, I decided to cruise through North Dakota on my way to the res. I also wanted to track down my mom’s roots, and she was born in a small town near Bismark.

I snapped a bunch of photos of that town, coolly named Zap, and also a few other towns where she lived before she decided to go to nursing school and join civilization. Although these towns are still quite small, they’ve come a long way since her day. When my mom was a kid, her home phone number was 1-2-3. No lie. And my grandfather, a Lutheran minister, used to be paid not with money but with surplus farm goods. Grandma used to have more milk than she knew what to do with, so she’d let it curdle and make cottage cheese pie with lots of honey—my mom’s favorite dessert.

These small towns, all very beautiful and welcoming, had a lot of similarities. I couldn’t help noticing that every single one of them centered around an enormous grain mill and had a water tower bearing the town’s name. They each also had a Lutheran church right off Main Street. This is definitely where my people came from. No doubt they eat lots of bratwurst and have an abundance of church ladies named Susie and Ruth.

Believe it or not, I’m the first person in my family to visit this area in about fifty years… and most likely will be the last for a very long time.