Polk County Commissioner Warren Strandell released another County Line Column earlier today. It can be found down below –
When you can’t see where you are going, don’t keep going. And, if you hear the sound of the rumble strips at the side of the roadway, it’s time to stop. This is good information for sure. So, follow it.
As I am preaching now, I must admit that I didn’t. That was on the mid-afternoon of Tuesday, Dec. 18… the day that high northwest winds were picking up every flake of snow that had fallen all winter. Visibility was down to zero. I couldn’t see where I was going on my way home from a day in Crookston but didn’t have the sense to stop going.
Anyway, so here is the story. If you have better things to do than to read on, here’s your opportunity to go do them or to read something else. It all started as my Public Safety Committee meeting at the Law Enforcement Center ended that afternoon. As I was heading back to East Grand Forks, I came to the intersection where the Highway 75 bypass meets U.S. 2 just west of Crookston.
There had been times getting to that point while on U.S. 75 where I couldn’t see my way and times when, while passing rural residences, there was no real problem. At the stop sign, I questioned myself, should I turn west onto that often really difficult stretch of road to EGF, especially those eight or nine miles to Fisher, or turn right and go back to Crookston.
Try it or not?
Being who I am, I turned left. Big mistake. I’m good for making them. About a hundred yards down the road, I lost vision of everything. Didn’t stop. As I leaned over to engage the flashing lights (a good practice when in stormy conditions), I heard those rumble strips. Again, I didn’t stop. And when the left front wheel went over the edge of the roadway any chance of pulling out of trouble was over.
With the big shovel that I carry in the winter, I was out into the terrible cold wind to trying to scoop my way back into play. That’s when Jason Omdahl, who had stopped his pickup truck about 50 yards behind me, came to see if he could help. Shoveling wasn’t going to do it. The vehicle was stuck. The wind was wicked and cold. Jason said, “Let me get you back to town. Where would you like to go?” I told him to the Polk County Justice Center… that’s the big building in south Crookston that houses the Northwest Regional Corrections Center jail, District Court, County Attorney’s Office, Public Health, and Tri-County Corrections. I had often thought of that being a place where I could go if weather were to become a factor when in Crookston.
Upon delivering me there, Jason said that using his truck he could probably pull me out that evening if the wind were to go down and that I should call him. Did the 30-minute walk While hanging out on the second floor of the Justice Center, I roamed the hall, even completed my 30-minute heart-healthy walk. The door to the Law Library was open. Inside, I found multiple copies of the weekly newspapers in the county. I read them. There was also a Rand McNally map book. I spent a considerable amount of time going through those pages, all the way from Alabama to Wyoming.
On my walks, I could see the steam coming out of the stack at American Crystal. It was about 8 p.m. or later by then. It looked like the wind had settled down a bit, so I called Jason. “What do you think?” I asked of a possible attempt to try to pull the vehicle out in that dark of night. He said, “I’ll go take a look. If we can, I’ll come and get you.”
Upon his return to town, Jason pulled into the Justice Center parking lot to report. I had been at the door watching for him. “It’s even worse now. We’ll have to wait until morning,” he said. “Is there any place that you want me to take you tonight?” I knew that the breakroom at the Government Center — still known by many as the courthouse — had a number of vending machines. I asked him to take me there.
Working late
Entering the building, I could see that the light was on down the hall in Administrator Chuck Whiting’s office. That was about 8:30 p.m. He was still there working on some reports, or whatever it was that he needed for the next day. We talked for a while, him offering to take me to a motel or wherever. No, I said this will be fine. My chair in the County Boardroom is comfortable and there are those vending machines downstairs.
Later in the breakroom, I decided on some spicy, cheesy chicken things or whatever they were and a soft drink. There was a code reader on the payment machine that couldn’t or wouldn’t read the code on those items. I’m going to have to find out who to pay, or how to pay for them. Then after downing those chicken things, as I stepped into hall as a young lady came down the steps. “I’m Erika Omdahl,” she said. A county social worker, Erika told me that when Jason told her that I was at the Government Center and would be eating out of the vending machines, she told him, he can’t do that. I’ll bring him some dinner. That she did, baked ham, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, a couple of couple of snack items, a Diet Coke, silverware and even salt and pepper shakers.
After having eaten those chicken things I wasn’t really hungry, so I only ate about of half of the dinner that night. The rest I saved for breakfast, the next morning… the breakroom microwave heated things up nicely. It was really good food, both for dinner and for breakfast. As you might expect, the night dragged on but it didn’t go without sleep. My chair tips back a bit and I was able to put my heels up over the armrest of Gary Willhite’s chair, next to mine. Early work start At about 6:30 a.m. as I had gone out into the hall, into the building comes Michelle Cote. She was already there to start her workday. Michelle wanted to know what I was doing in the building at that time of the morning. In my explanation, I told her that I had gotten stuck west of Crookston and that I had spent the night in the boardroom.
A lot of people beyond me should know that Chuck, as the county administrator, and Michelle, who is the director of property records/auditor/ treasurer and other things, too, go way beyond what is needed to keep this county going. Contact was made again with Jason at about 8:30 that morning. Offering again to try to pull me out of the ditch, we went out to the site. He hooked onto the 2-inch ball of the hitch that I had put in place while out in the cold and wind of the day before. He just couldn’t get enough traction to pull me out.
From there, Jason took me back to town to see Mike Jobe at Advanced Tire & Auto/GF Towing. The pullout job was arranged. With Jason still offering to be a part of the effort, I told him that he had done more than enough and that he needed to get back to his regular job. Almost reluctantly, we parted ways. Jason is a fantastic person. So is Erika. They’ll be getting a little thank you from me.
Square tires
Mike’s equipment pulled me right out. After a trip back to his shop to settle-up (which was more than reasonable), I started for home. Having been frozen overnight, the tires were “square” and the engine didn’t seem to be running well, but we made it at a much slower than normal speed. Once at home, knowing that snow accumulates in the engine compartment of a car when it is left out in a storm, I opened the hood. Yup, it was packed full to the brim.
With the help of my son Kary, the next five hours were spent working to get the snow melted and out. We had two portable propane heaters going, a compressor and air hose, sticks and anything else that would help dislodge the snow, much of which had turned to heavy slop where it had accumulated or where it landed on the garage floor. All eventually turned out well, but it was a job, to say the least.
The least? Well, the least was not followed in this accounting. The story could have been very much condensed. In summary, it could have just said that when you can’t see where you are going, you need to stop going. Come to think about it, that might be pretty good advice for some other situations, too.
