Some of the column readers may have noticed a book out there with my name on it.  Most probably didn’t notice and those that did figured, so what? And who does he think he is?

Well, I didn’t write it to show off. First of all, there’s not that much to show. I like what I write and my wife thinks it’s OK and my kids say it’s good, but the majority of the time when I write a column, it disappears into a black hole. It goes out there and there is not a ripple in our small pond in southern Minnesota. Although, once in a while someone does mention it to me and for those comments I’m grateful. So the book wasn’t written for glory or recognition.

It certainly wasn’t for money. Those of you familiar with the book business know that I’d have to sell several hundred books before I make a penny. Why then, did I write a book?

The Mayo Clinic will pronounce the same verdict about my health regardless of the book. I could stack 10 copies in front of my doctor and it wouldn’t make a whit of difference. So if not for money, fame, or health, why did I write it?

It’s a long story and somewhat personal, so forgive me and hang in there. My father died a young man at 46. At least it seems young to me, looking at his death from the vantage point of 70-plus. He never got to know my sons, his grandchildren. They would have meant a great deal to him and I believe, he to them.

I had escaped health issues well past my 46th birthday and then had a heart attack at 58. At the same time I learned that one of my sons and his wife were going to have a baby. WOW!

What wonderful news.  I was going to be a grandfather. Nothing nicer could have happened.

Then after my heart attack, I became concerned, that like my father, I wouldn’t get to know my grandchildren, nor they me. I decided that even if I died, they would get to know me and started to write children’s stories.  That didn’t work, but eventually sports stories did and I tried to put a lot of myself into the stories.

As with a great many things; a guy starts out and like a garden it keeps getting bigger, one thing led to another and I decided to put together a book based on my columns for my sons and grandchildren. If I had known the amount of work and time involved I would have given writing this book more thought.

It consumed months of my life and my wife’s life also. Kay was of immense help in the undertaking and fortunately while both of us fly off the handle fairly easily, we are also quick to forgive.

Around two years into what became a five-year project, I got to thinking, “What an ego to try and put down my experiences in Minnesota and who will care what I thought about the past 60 years anyway?”  I wondered very seriously whether I should continue with the book.  Talked with Shannon Pennefeather, editor with the Minnesota Historical Press who looked at the manuscript and encouraged me. Shannon said she liked my writing, urged me to continue and said “Sure it’s about you, but it’s supposed to be.”

So, for better or worse it’s done. And all I could do was to write it, but it’s up to my grandchildren and their descendants as to whether they read it or not.