Breaking and Entering
Winter was a slow time in the
Valley especially for teenagers on the weekends. To counteract the seasonal blahs we broke into the Spring Valley High School
"gym" and played basketball. It was easy enough to open the doors to the gym -- a good yank was enough and nothing was really
broken. This was perhaps a tradition at Spring Valley HS although the faces were always the same when I was there. If other
schoolmates were getting in they were on a different time schedule. I am sure that "Syver" (short for Rudolf Syverson) knew
what we were doing. The days grew short and the darkness cut short our basketball fun. Not to be stymied we turned on the
lights. We happily dribbled and shot baskets for perhaps ten minutes when suddenly we became aware of another presence, Syver,
who intoned, "you vill not turn on der lights". (I don't know if he really talked that way but we always mocked him using
a faux Norwegian accent.) "Ve doon't care if you use der gym, joost not der lights". He didn't even ask how we got
in. I suppose he thought that it was better for everyone to let us play roundball in the gym and not be rolling round
things down the hillsides.
Dick Gueldner
Fireworks at the Grain Elevator
Schuyler Ofstie asked me if I would like to take part of his paper route.
He delivered the St. Paul Pioneer Press and had maybe 75 customers. It was a chance for me to get out of my parents grocery
store and make some money so I gladly accepted the offer. The Sunday paper was much more popular and occasionally I delivered
for Schuyler and myself more than a hundred Sunday papers. My bankroll swelled and Schuyler and I decided we could go together
and send off for some pretty nifty 4th of July fireworks. The $16.50 set of assorted noisemakers came all the way
from South Dakota. Only our friends knew about thiswe didnt tell our parents. The works arrived before the 4th
but we couldnt wait. At night the gang gathered and we set off firecrackers all over town. We kept moving because we fantasized
that Burt Safe, the village constable, was trying to track down the source of the noise. We were never caught. Probably Burt
knew who we were and really didnt care that much. On the 4th we could openly shoot the fireworks in broad daylight
(tipping off the source of the earlier noise). One of the more interesting stunts was to put a rock in the end of an ashcan
(a powerful firecracker) and drop it off the bridge over the creek and sink the ashcan. The result was bright flash of light
and then a giant burping sound as the gas escaped the water. The next day at that spot we saw about 3 dozen dead minnows floating
in the hole. Hmmm. So thats why they dynamite fish!
We exhausted our supply of fireworks. But then it occurred to someone that
we could make our own. For charcoal we chopped off part of a burnt log next to the Eau Galle River. Bertlesons drug store
was the source of sulfur and saltpeter. We mixed the ingredients in the proper proportions and got a mixture that burned quickly
but wasnt too impressive otherwise. Schuyler had access to his dads plumbing supplies so he was able to secure a short piece
of galvanized pipe, threaded, and a cap to fit with a hole drilled in it for a fuse, and we had the makings of a miniature
cannon. For cannon balls we had steel ball bearings. Wadding was what else- newspaper! The first trial of the cannon was on
the sidewalk next to my parents store. The cannon was pointed toward Floyd Klandermans grain elevator across the street. The
cannon was charged, the ball bearing carefully put in place, surrounded by wadding, and the fuse attached. One of us put his
foot on the cannon and the fuse was lit. After a split second delay there was a POOF!, and then the noise of the ball bearing
hitting the galvanized sheet metal on the backside of the office of the grain elevator. We were in the midst of charging the
cannon for a second shot when we saw Floyd coming around the elevator office towards us. We scrambled to get rid of the evidence
and threw it behind the grocery store. Floyd approached us and asked Whats going on, fellas?. While we imperceptibly scuffed
our feet one of our group replied Oh, nothin. Were just talkin here. Floyd, looking dubious, hesitated a moment, turned around
and went back to the office.
But evidence of the imprint of a steel ball bearing still exists. Luckily
the bearing struck between two windows and you wouldnt notice it unless Schuyler could tell you, as he told me during the
Spring Valley High School All School reunion in 1993, where to look for it. After midnight on that day my wife, Sarah, and
I were taking a picture of the dent when Jim Rutherford came by, and mocking our high school principal, Syver, said Dere vill
be noo taking pictures of der public buildings after midnight!
Dick Gueldner
