Tag: Canistota

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400 Roses

By Bernie Hunhoff

Kristine Reiner’s art career bloomed with the gift of 400 unwanted roses.

Somewhere there’s a young man who probably feels he wasted his money on 400 roses. His investment didn’t have the intended effect — which, of course, was to impress a particular young lady — but the roses have led to a lot of good in South Dakota.

It all began a half-dozen years ago when Kristine Reiner was studying art at the University of Sioux Falls and politely telling a boy that she wasn’t interested. With a final flourish of hope and desperation, he called a Sioux Falls florist and had 400 roses delivered to her. Four hundred divides into 33-and-a-half dozen; her tiny college apartment was red with flowers.

Reiner wasn’t raised to throw things away. She grew up in Canistota, the youngest of three daughters of a single mom. Even though her dad was in prison for drug use and her mom struggled to pay the bills, she remembers her small-town childhood with a smile.”As the youngest, I spent a lot of time alone,” she says. But that gave her time to think and dream and draw. In high school, art teacher William Cavill encouraged her.”He told me I could make a living by being creative. He was the first person to believe in my art.”

With that confidence, she enrolled at USF in 2012 and there she met Ceca Cooper, an art professor known for challenging students on the boundaries between man and nature.”I realized I was there to learn the rules of art so I could break them,” Kristine says. In her senior year in 2016, she was seeking inspiration for her final art project, while also trying to distance herself from that persistent suitor.

That’s when the roses arrived. They filled her little apartment, both in space and scent.

With her”waste not” mentality, she couldn’t bring herself to throw them in the garbage.”They wouldn’t have fit in the dumpster anyway,” she says. At first, she and a friend went to Wiley’s Bar in downtown Sioux Falls and sold them to guys who didn’t need to buy in bulk because they already had girls at their side. She netted $180, but she still had a lot of roses.

“I just couldn’t throw them away,” she says.”I always loved roses. That’s probably why he sent so many.” She sat at home, surrounded by the flowers while also trying to imagine her final art project. It’s probably not shocking that she eventually brushed a rose against the canvas. She began to experiment with the flowers, not just as brushes but as elements within her paintings. She squished them and squeezed them. She broke boundaries.

Reiner’s work is inspired by, and sometimes made from, roses.

Kristine Reiner is now a burgeoning Sioux Falls artist. She works as a graphic designer by day, teaches evening art classes and just finished a mural commissioned by the city at Eighth and Main. She’s also a community activist.”I love Sioux Falls. It’s my favorite city,” she says, because she feels support, just as she did while growing up in Canistota.”Artists have such an opportunity here because anyone can meet anyone anytime. You don’t have to be someone to have a chance.” The people of Canistota are still helping her as well; Sue Baxa, who runs a restaurant in the historic Ortman Hotel, exhibits Reiner’s paintings on her walls.

While Reiner continues to create — with clay, screen printing and often still painting with roses — she also practices her creativity on social issues. When she learned that some South Dakota school children were”lunch shamed” (refused food because they owed lunch money) she and her sister Brandie started a nonprofit called Cathy’s Place to help families pay school debts.”We didn’t always have enough money for lunches and activities when I was a kid, and there were always people who helped us,” she says, particularly a lady named Cathy Steinmetz. They’ve created a Facebook page, and a website is coming. The nonprofit also helps teachers buy school supplies.

When the pandemic of 2020 forced Reiner to cancel her art classes, she used the free time to sew designer face masks. They became a hit with friends, and now she sells them on her website, kristinereiner.com.

The coronavirus also interrupted the corporate food chain, and she lamented the dilemma of farmers without a market. The crisis crystallized when her boyfriend, Damon Brown, learned that his family in Minnesota had been approached by the federal government for land to bury livestock that couldn’t be marketed. Together, they founded Cash Cow Co-op, an online directory that links farmers with families who want to buy local foods. They’ve already made connections across the Dakotas, Iowa and Minnesota.

All who like happy endings are wondering if Brown is the same guy who gave Reiner the 400 roses. He is not, but he shares her passion for making South Dakota a better place through creativity. What could be happier than that?

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the January/February 2021 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Inspired by McCook County

By John Andrews

We drive Highway 81 when we travel from Yankton to my hometown of Lake Norden. Whenever we approach Salem, my 10-year-old daughter scans the skyline for the steeple of St. Mary’s Catholic Church. Monsignor Bernard Weber oversaw construction of the pink quartzite church in 1898. I suspect the stately steeple stood out on a prairie vista that included just a few trees and Salem’s early buildings. Perhaps it acted as a source of inspiration for the early settlers of McCook County, whose descendants seem to have carried on the desire to provide hope and help to others.

McCook County was established in 1873 and named for Edwin McCook, the secretary of Dakota Territory. McCook belonged to the famous”Fighting McCooks” family from Ohio whose dedication to the Union was unparalleled. Brothers Daniel and John McCook all served in the war, as did 13 of their sons. McCook saw action in battles at Fort Henry and Fort Donelson and in the Vicksburg, Chattanooga and Atlanta campaigns and was severely wounded three times.

He was appointed secretary of Dakota Territory in 1872. The following year, a dispute over the Dakota Southern Railroad put him at odds with Yankton banker Peter Wintermute, who shot and killed McCook over the disagreement at a meeting in downtown Yankton in September of 1873.

McCook County covers 577 square miles halfway between Mitchell and Sioux Falls. Interstate 90 bisects it from west to east, and Highway 81 halves it from north to south. Salem, the county seat with the noticeable church steeple, sits just north of that busy intersection. Another source of inspiration is found in Canistota, south of the interstate and east of 81.

Salem is the seat of McCook County. The steeple of St. Mary’s Catholic Church can be seen in the lower left corner.

In the early 1900s, farmer Amon Ortman discovered that his hands possessed a healing touch. When his work was done in the fields, he often encountered friends or neighbors complaining of a sore neck or other such malady. He’d have them sit on a wagon tongue or a bucket and provide relief as only he could. His unique touch turned Canistota into a destination for people around the world who seek treatment. Since Amon and his brother Noah opened the Ortman Clinic, four generations of Ortmans have treated more than 3 million patients. The influx gives the town of 600 a steady boost.

Canistotans can also learn a lesson in entrepreneurship from Tom and Ruth Neuberger. In 1984, they fattened 3,500 geese and then found themselves without a market. They decided to process the birds and hit the road in a refrigerated bus, selling town to town. Their formula became a huge success, and the Goosemobile has crisscrossed the state hundreds of times.

John Alvarez and his wife, Dee Ann, run My Fishing Pond, a therapeutic retreat near Bridgewater.

Across the county in Bridgewater, John Alvarez uses fishing to help brain injury survivors. Alvarez survived a horrific car accident in 1994 near Tucson, Arizona, but was left with a severe brain injury. He had to relearn basic skills and grew frustrated living in a busy urban environment. So he and his wife Dee Ann moved to a small acreage near her hometown of Bridgewater where Alvarez spent quiet days casting for bullheads in nearby Wolf Creek. Realizing the therapeutic value of fishing, Alvarez created My Fishing Pond, a non-profit organization that invites fellow brain injury survivors, children with special needs or the elderly to catch and release fish.

You no doubt remember the 1989 movie Field of Dreams, about an Iowa farmer who upon hearing strange voices in his cornfield builds a baseball diamond. Well, a friend of mine was recently driving through tiny Center, just south of the intersection of 245th Street and 443rd Avenue, and was surprised to find a similarly well-tended baseball field. The Center Ball Diamond became a reality in 1958, when a group of local softball players decided they wanted a ballpark near their rural homes. McCook Electric installed light poles in the middle of what was then a hayfield and the park began taking shape. More softball teams formed and soon there was a rousing league. Between concession stand sales, league dues and services donated, the park eventually became self sufficient — McCook County’s own field of dreams.

Canistota farmer Tom Neuberger started the Goosemobile in 1984.

The tiny hamlet of Center is also the setting for one of my favorite South Dakota baseball stories. The Center Store did solid business during the 1930s, and in the fall during pheasant season it wasn’t unusual to spot a celebrity or two who had come to South Dakota for a hunting excursion. Bob Feller, star pitcher for the Cleveland Indians, hunted every year between Center and Howard with his uncle, who delivered gas and oil to the store.

One day, a middle-aged hunter who nobody recognized walked in. Kenny Knutson, a local farmer on his way home from a baseball game in Salem and still in uniform, happened to be inside.

“I see you’re a ball player,” the visitor said.”I used to play a little ball myself.”

“Yeah, when?” Knutson asked, looking and the old hunter with doubtful eyes.

“It was a few years back. Maybe you’ve heard of me. I’m Ty Cobb.”

“Oh, sure, and I’m Babe Ruth!”

Wayne Porter’s 60-foot-tall longhorn towers over the prairie along Interstate 90 near Montrose. Photo by Stacey Stoddard/S.D. Tourism.

But it was true. Cobb, who had retired in 1928 after 24 seasons with the Detroit Tigers and the Philadelphia Athletics and was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1936, didn’t say another word. He just pulled out his hunting license and presented it to the gape-mouthed Kenny.

Wayne Porter is also living his dream in McCook County. He’s the creative force behind the Porter Sculpture Park, and eclectic mix of scrap iron creations that can be seen near the Montrose exit along Interstate 90. You’ll spot dragons, butterflies, vultures and a man’s head with a hand emerging from the top. Maybe the least out-of-place is the 60-foot-tall longhorn.

But perhaps the saddest source of inspiration comes from Spencer, a town that made headlines worldwide in May of 1998 when a monstrous tornado destroyed the town. I had just graduated from high school, but I remember people traveling there to help with the clean up. Six people were killed and several more displaced. The town’s population never rebounded to the pre-tornado estimate of 315, but many residents stayed, refusing to let Mother Nature control their lives. Spencer is now home to about 150 people.

As someone who simply passes through from time to time, I never really thought about all the inspiring people and places to be found in McCook County. But the 5,600 folks who live there see it every day — in a quartzite church steeple, the ball field in the middle of nowhere and that 60-foot longhorn.

Editor’s Note: This is the 33rd installment in an ongoing series featuring South Dakota’s 66 counties. Click here for previous articles.

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Explorers On Two Wheels

By Katie Hunhoff

Traveling is one of life’s great joys, so we love it when our stories inspire readers to hit the road. Jan and Carl Brush took that idea to the extreme when they used South Dakota Magazine to plan a 360-mile biking trip. The couple has biked in all 50 states, but they like South Dakota best. Our small towns, friendly people, beautiful wildlife and peaceful roads make for a perfect two-wheel experience … or maybe I should say three-wheel. The Brushes use a tandem recumbent trike that is 10 feet long.

They left from Yankton on July 24, and Jan wrote some notes from the first day that shows why they love biking here.”We rode 51 miles total. We saw lots of wildlife. Everyone waved and a herd of horses greeted us west of Freeman at the Jonas farm and ran alongside us for 100 yards inside their pen.”

Wildlife and animals were a fun part of the Brushes’ adventures. During the eight-day trip they were trailed by a young Billy goat and saw a white pelican and a wood stork near Willow Lake. They also met the most famous pet in Canova — Bill Perrine’s rescue dog, Daisy.”The local joke is, if you want to find Bill, find Daisy,” Jan told us. After talking with Bill, the Brushes found something they had in common — Bill loves biking, too, but the motorized kind. He and his wife have motorcycled in every state, in all the Canadian provinces, throughout Mexico and much of Western Europe.

Bill was just one of many interesting people the Brushes met when they stopped in several small towns. They met Tammy Zulk in Canova, the creator of a memorial garden.”She started the garden in 2007 as a memorial to her late son, Tyler, who died in a motorcycle accident,” Jan said.”Engraved memorial stepping stones are available by contacting Tammy. She etches them herself. The beautiful garden is certainly the pride of the community.”

The Brushes visited with Amish families in Canistota who were there visiting the Ortman Clinic. They also made new friends in Bridgewater whom they had read about in our magazine. Jack Vondra, age 91, runs a jewelry store and shared local history.

When the Brushes returned to Bridgewater on their way home, they stopped again to say hello to Jack and his wife, Lois.”Jack moved here in 1947 to start a job repairing watches,” they wrote.”He was paid $25 a week and a place to live. In 1951 he and Lois were married and they bought the jewelry store on a handshake agreement. At age 91 he still can be found at the store most days.”

The Brushes met many more interesting people and enjoyed some great food, too — more than I can fit into this column. But check their travelogue to see more. We guarantee you’ll find travel tips that aren’t likely to be found anywhere else in the world.

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Chol and Amon

By Bernie Hunhoff

Chol Atem and Amon Ortman have something in common, though they lived 100 years apart. Amon was a pioneer healer, the founder of the Ortman Chiropractic Clinic at Canistota that is celebrating its 100th year this month. More about Chol in a few paragraphs.

We have always loved the story of Amon Ortman, the farmer with a gift for healing. The legacy he created through the generations continues today, and we’ve featured it on several occasions in South Dakota Magazine.

Of course I never met Amon Ortman, but I feel like I know him because like many of you I grew up with old-timers like that. People who worked hard. Who cared about their neighbors and their communities. People who thought you could do great things right here in South Dakota as well as anywhere else in the world.

I can easily picture Amon, after a hard day’s work of his own in the field, coming to the farmyard and finding a neighbor waiting with a sore shoulder. And I can see him inviting the neighbor to maybe sit on the running board of the car. They talk about the rain — or the lack of rain — and Amon lays his hands on that bad shoulder.

People like Amon and places like Canistota have made all the difference for South Dakota. The Ortmans and the Husteads and the Andersons and the Hubers and the Larsons and the Brockelsbys and the Bakers and ten thousand other families who’ve gutted out their dreams, stuck it out and made it work.

Now to Chol Atem. Earlier this year, in our May/June issue, we did something different in the magazine. We invited a few dozen people to write words of advice for the high school and college students who would be graduating this year.

We called them”letters to graduates.” I thought the most touching letter came from a young man we’ve come to know who works at a convenience store in Yankton. His name is Chol Atem. I met Chol when he came to Pierre to help us pass a policy that discourages the State Investment Office from investing funds with companies who support the kind of genocide his family faced in Sudan.

Chol grew up 7,500 miles away from South Dakota, across the Atlantic Ocean. He was one of the”Lost Boys of Sudan,” driven away from his small town by terrorists who burned and ravaged his town and killed his relatives. He didn’t want to leave but he had no choice.

He survived, miraculously, and came to study at Mount Marty College in Yankton. He now lives and works in Yankton. And what did he tell our young readers of the magazine?

He had no choice but to leave home. But Chol challenged young South Dakotans to think twice before leaving their homes.”Step up to the plate and stop this chronic cycle of mass exodus to other states by generations of young South Dakotans,” he said.”It is time to invest and build our state of South Dakota. It takes one step to form an unstoppable movement. We are who we are by where we come from.”

“There is nothing like home,” says Chol, who had to find a new home in South Dakota.”I challenge you to rise beyond something bigger than yourselves. Invest your talents and expertise in building your state.”

Chol’s birth home and the Ortmans and Canistota are an ocean apart in more ways than one. But he and the Ortmans hold the very same idea of home.