Bare footprints in the snow
If you've lived in the northern Midwest you're seen to snow in the spring, but have you seen human barefoot prints in the spring snow?
Last week, even though it was technically spring, it snowed. One day, there were several inches and my husband used the snowblower. By Saturday, April 5 (a full two weeks and two days after the vernal equinox), most of our snow had melted by the morning. However, we received a light sprinkling. A couple of years ago, I purchased special slippers to wear in the early morning to put my dog, MaggieBW, outside in the morning because I had to walk out to hook her to a tether. I wanted something warm enough to go outside with her in the dead of winter without putting my boots on. So I bought slippers made of leather on the outside and lined with fake fur on the inside.
Well, when I saw the light dusting this Saturday, I thought, I bet I can make a barefoot print in the snow, like my Grandpa Minehart must have seen that spring morning in 1938.
So I took off my slippers and stepped onto our deck, which leads to our boardwalk sidewalk. I purposely made the best barefoot prints I could make. Since it was the backyard, I didn’t think anyone would notice, but my husband went outside shortly after I made the prints.
“Did your feet get cold?” he asked when he came inside. But he never asked why I would do such a thing. (He probably thought that the dog had to go bad and I wasn’t dressed probably)
Below is a story I plan to include in my manuscript about the time Russell woke up in the morning and saw bare footprints on his porch and sidewalk. Janette went to nursing school and had great empathy for those with mental illness. This may have been where some of that empathy began.
Bare footprints in the snow
Most mornings, Winifred and Russell got up before the children. In the winter, they made sure the house had warmed up before waking the children. One morning late in the spring of 1938, Winifred and Russell were awake and getting dressed when they thought they heard a noise on the front porch. Their bedroom was just steps away, but by the time Russell reached the door, no one was there. A light dusting of fresh snow had fallen on the ground. His eyes swept over the porch and sidewalk. He saw the prints belonging to a barefoot human on the porch. His eyes surveyed the neighborhood, and he saw a woman on the sidewalk near Hanson’s house.
“Russell, where are you going?” Winifred asked. She stood at the door and watched as Russell walked toward the woman. He extended his hand toward her. She wore a light sweater over a housedress and a kerchief on her head. Her lips were turning blue, and she was shivering as Russell brought her in the front door.
“Mrs. Grein,” Winifred said. She recognized her neighbor. “You’re so cold. Let me put you into my bed so you can warm up.” Mrs. Grein silently followed Winifred into the bedroom, got into the bed and Winifred pulled the covers up to her chin.
Russell walked upstairs and poked his head in Helen and Janette’s room. “Breakfast is ready, but come as quietly as you can,” Russell said in a soft voice. “Your mother and I invited Mrs. Grein in, and I don’t want you to scare her.” He then walked over to the boys’ bedroom and told them the same thing.
The woman was small and looked bewildered. She lived with her husband and grown daughter, and at times could be heard screaming. The townspeople knew her screams were not due to maltreatment. Her screams scared some people. She had mental problems and was never seen outside her house.
Because Russell told the kids not to scare the woman, they stayed in the kitchen and ate the breakfast Russell had prepared. Janette tiptoed into the dining room. From there, you could see into the parents’ bedroom. Janette saw the woman sitting on the bed with her feet in a pan of warm water and Winifred on her knees washing Mrs. Grein’s feet. The scene reminded Janette of the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples.
Then Janette got her coat and cap to go to school.
When she got to school, people around town already knew that the Mineharts had brought Mrs. Grein into their house because they had seen her wandering.
“Weren’t you scared?” said one of her classmates as she reached the schoolyard.
“No,” Janette said.
More kids gathered around in the coatroom wanting to know about the woman and if anything scary had happened. Mrs. Grein was such a delicate-looking woman. Janette wondered why people were afraid.
After the kids left for school, Russell walked over to the Grein’s place to tell Mr. Grein that his wife was at their house. He also told Mr. Grein to bring shoes and a coat.
The only other time Janette and her siblings saw the Greins was when the father and adult daughter, Luella, worked in their garden.
Years later, Mrs. Grein was sent to St. Peter State Hospital. Her daughter was so quiet and hadn’t been out in society, so she got a job in the state hospital to be near her mother.
Whenever the daughter came back to Avoca to visit, she would ask,
“How’s Mrs. Minehart?”
Thanks for reading!
(If you are in a hurry, you can stop here. If you want “added value,” you may continue.)
Visiting a cemetery in Avoca, Minnesota in 2014
Mom and I visited the Faith Lutheran Cemetery (Also known as Faith Cemetery) during the summer of 2014, and we found the Grien family headstones.
The cemetery is near Lime Lake, where Mom and the rest of the kids went swimming and fishing. It is away from most of the town. You take a trail to get to it; it’s next to Lime Lake County Park.
Mom once told me a story about walking with Aunt Nina and playing a prank on her by jumping off the little dam into the lake. They were surprised when the town priest walked by, so they quickly stopped giggling and tried to act normal. You know how it is when you are with family and acting goofy and someone outside of the family walks by.
If you remember Aunt Nina, you may recall how much she loved to giggle.
Oh, in doing the research today as I write this, I realize that the St. Rosa of Lima Catholic Cemetary is adjacent to Fatih Lutheran. I didn’t take a recording or notes as Mom and I walked on that summer day in 2014. I always wondered what the priest was doing walking on a trail in the park in the 1940s. Well, he was probably visiting graves.
Well, let's get back to the more somber part of the story.
As we walked in 2014, we saw many headstones, and Mom knew just about everyone who was buried there.
This photo is from the Find-A-Grave website and supplied by Char Larson. Mrs. Grein died at 69 or 70 in Nicollet County, where St. Peter’s Hospital is. Also near this headsone is Mrs. Grien’s husband and daughter.
The Asylum Projects
I found a whole website dedicated to chronicling and preserving the history of asylums in all forms.
This image is from: The Asylum Projects https://www.asylumprojects.org/
Here is the text of the homepage:
Everyone throughout the United States and in many other countries has in one way or another felt the touch of these institutions. These places have both directly and indirectly affected people and their families. They have shaped lives and created many popular myths about them.
With all that in mind, this site was created to help in the historical research of any institutions that can be classified as an asylum. It was created for both serious researchers, those who are doing genealogical research, and people with an interest in asylums.
What I’m reading:
Broken Fields is set in the Red River Valley. Since I spent my teenage and young adult years in the Red River Valley, I enjoy how Marcie describes the setting. It’s the 1970s. I met the author Marcie Rendon at a writers’ conference in Fostton a couple of years ago. It is a murder mystery. The main character is Cash Blackbear, a young Ojibwe woman and occasional sleuth. Cash works as a frame laborer. After driving a tractor all day, she becomes curious about why she has seen no human activity even though a vehicle is running all day long at a nearby farmhouse.
Recently, our church sponsored Dougalas Wood to give a concert (or two).
He is an author, musician and naturalist. In” Old Turtle,” the turtle ponders who is good. It is beautifully illustrated by renowned watercolorist Cheng-chee Kee ( Who just happened to live in Duluth).
I purchased this book to have it autographed for my honorary grandson, Sawyer.
Linda says:
Great article. Sunday, April 6th, Larry and I took Mom on a drive and discovered the cemetery along Lime Lake. It was bigger than expected and kind of surprising to find a cemetery along a lake. It is just surprising after seeing it to have it mentioned in one of your articles.
Wendy says:
Many interesting tales woven together.
W