Tag: literature

Posted on by — Leave a comment

A Somber Winter Read

The Children’s Blizzard by David Laskin revisits the deadly blizzard of January 12, 1888, in which more than 200 people lost their lives.

By John Andrews

There are few more comforting things than a hot cup of coffee and a good book to read while waiting out a South Dakota snow storm. Those are luxuries the characters in David Laskin’s The Children’s Blizzard didn’t have. They were simply trying to make it through the day alive.

I recently noticed a copy of The Children’s Blizzard on our shelves, and was ashamed to admit that I had never read it. Most Dakotans have at least heard of The Children’s Blizzard, which hit on Jan. 12, 1888, and know that ranks among our worst natural disasters. More than 200 people died, most of them children walking home from school in southeastern Dakota. So I thought that in advance of the 125th anniversary of the devastating storm that I should read the book, and I highly recommend that if you live here, or grew up here, or have any ties to South Dakota whatsoever, that you read it too.

I’ve often seen book reviewers claim that a work of nonfiction “reads like a novel.” Then I read the book and wonder if the reviewer and I read the same thing. But Laskin’s book honestly fits that description. You can almost feel the harsh wind and subzero temperatures numbing your fingers as he describes the plight of the children caught in nature’s ferocity. You find yourself hoping that the children walking blindly through the snow are discovered alive, but in most cases you’re left feeling hollow when rescuers find the frozen bodies strewn across the Plains days later.

The day dawned mild for January in Dakota. Some parents took advantage of the unseasonable weather and kept children home from school to help with farm chores. Those who attended that day walked to school wearing light clothing. Laskin traces the cold front as it raced down from Canada, across Montana, Dakota, and Nebraska. Eventually it affected people as far south as Galveston, Texas. The story was the same in every school house: lessons came to an abrupt halt when teachers and students heard the first gust of wind slam into the northwest wall of their tiny schoolhouses. There are stories of teachers who kept students inside. They kept warm by burning everything they could find. They told stories and held recitations throughout the night. But Laskin’s stories are mostly about the teachers and students who chose to brave the elements, thinking they could walk a mile or less to the nearest farmhouse or barn.

They nearly all end in tragedy. One exception is the story of 8-year-old Walter Allen, who attended school in Groton. When the storm struck, fathers drove teams of horses pulling sleighs to the schoolhouse just west of town. Students piled on and they headed into the blizzard. But then Walter remembered his prized possession: a tiny glass perfume bottle of water that he kept in his desk for cleaning his slate. Walter knew it would freeze and crack if left in his desk, so he jumped off and headed into the school to retrieve it. When he emerged the sleighs had disappeared. The boy tried walking back into town but soon became disoriented. Only a heroic rescue mission by his father and older brother saved his life.

Also fascinating is the description of meteorology in 1888. Members of the U.S. Army’s Signal Corps were responsible for taking daily observations and filing “indications” reports, which were fairly crude forecasts transmitted via telegraph. They had a pretty good idea of how weather behaved, but a combination of errors and laziness on the parts of certain observers resulted in citizens hearing the first warnings of the pending storm just minutes before it struck.

Good writing makes you feel something, and Laskin’s work does just that. Back in September we sought help from Watertown bibliophile Donus Roberts in publishing a list of books every South Dakotan should read. Laskin’s The Children’s Blizzard didn’t make Roberts’ final cut, but I’d happily add it to the list.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

The Bottum Line on Wisdom

By Bernie Hunhoff
Joseph “Jody” Bottum has become the international expert on South Dakota Christmas, and that sounds like one of the best writing gigs ever.
Readers of our paper magazine will recall that we told Bottum’s story in our Nov/Dec issue. The Pierre native was making quite a name for himself on the East Coast as a prolific writer and essayist for the Atlantic, the Weekly Standard, the Wall Street Journal and other top publications.
But he and his wife wanted to give geographic roots to their teenage daughter, Faith, and Jody hoped to explore new writing opportunities so they moved home to South Dakota — to a big old wood-frame house that was the childhood home to Leslie Jensen, who became governor of South Dakota in 1936.
Last year he wrote a Kindle e-book called Dakota Christmas about his remembrances of early holidays, and this year he published The Christmas Plains, also a reflection on the spirituality of the plains.
Bottum also has a new Kindle book you can buy for 99 cents titled The Wise Guy. I read it last weekend. It’s an entertaining yarn about a community of modern day outlaws and thieves who are compelled to perform 12 robberies at Christmas-time — a blend of The Sting and It’s a Wonderful Life.
Bottum says some of the characters are modeled after people he’s known in Pierre. Who, exactly, in the political town of Pierre shares traits with common criminals and thieves? He declined to answer officially. But he did acknowledge that a distinguished old lady in The Wise Guy has a bit of his grandmother. She imparts some wisdom to the thieves.
Wisdom, Bottum told me, doesn’t seem like such rare commodity in South Dakota. “When I was living on the East Coast, I knew a lot of smart people but I find that I find a lot more wise people back here on the plains.”
I thought of Bottum’s comment as I watched the youth of Yankton at a Christmas concert last night in Yankton. The beautiful boys and girls all seemed very smart, very talented. But how do we, as a community, also raise them to be wise?
If Jody Bottum knows anything — and I’m betting that some of his grandmother has rubbed off on him — then we’re on the right track. Raise them as South Dakotans — with big doses of nature, church, community and family. Let them pick pasque flowers and smell mountain pines and wander trails and canoe the Big Sioux. Show them how to catch a walleye, find a mushroom, ride a goat, or whatever else you yourself might know.
Teach them to be a real South Dakotan and a lot of the other things must just follow along as nicely as can be.
Posted on by — Leave a comment

Book Keeping

By John Andrews

Jenny Cook (right) believes “in used everything, not just books.” She began working for Katherine Talley (left) and the other owners of The Book Shop in 1989. Photo by Katie Hunhoff.

Editor’s Note: In 2014, The Book Shop moved from historic downtown Sioux Falls to the Park Ridge Galleria, located at 1708 S Western Ave. in Sioux Falls. The following is revised from “Book Keeping: What Sells at South Dakota’s Secondhand Bookstores,” which appeared in the September/October 2008 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.

Lucky people do what they love. Count used bookstore owner Jenny Cook as a happy member of that exclusive group. Cook runs The Book Shop in a historic building in downtown Sioux Falls. She started there in 1989 as a clerk, working for original owners Katherine Ann Talley, Nancy Veglahn and Kay Coddington. When they retired in early 2008, Cook bought the business.”I really believe in used everything, not just books,” Cook said.”I wanted to be around books, period.”

Cook’s parents were voracious readers, so it was natural that she would develop the same affection for books.”I wouldn’t call it an escape at that point, but I liked finding out that there were other people who thought and felt like me,” she said.”I could find that out in books.” She knew in elementary school that she wanted to work with books; a chance to help in the school library”was wonderful,” Cook recalled.”I loved it. It made a big impression on me.”

Cook’s store sits on historic Phillips Avenue. Built in the early 1900s, the structure was billed as the first fireproof hotel in Sioux Falls. Then in 1988, Talley, Veglahn and Coddington turned it into The Book Shop. They stocked the shelves with titles they found in catalogs and attended seminars to get acquainted with the business.

As the Internet became available, they searched the unending realm of cyberspace for books. Talley and other shop owners faced important industry changes.”Used booksellers and antiquarians used to be the source for collectors of out-of-print books,” explained Talley, who was still working part-time at The Book Shop when we visited in 2008.”Since the Internet has opened up, some of the books that were difficult to find are now easier to find, whereas the truly rare, scarce books have escalated in price because of the bidding war that can go on for them.”

The Book Shop is a general interest store, with fiction, nonfiction and books that appeal to readers of all ages. Her mystery and adventure section is popular, as are the older regional history books.

A lot of books have passed through Talley’s hands in her two decades in the businesses. Some held surprises. She has found money (“small bills, nothing terribly exciting”) and other personal items including an envelope with two engagement rings inside. Luckily that book was a recent acquisition, and the rings found their way back to the owner.

Although the Internet and e-books have changed the used book business, nothing can change the unique experience of bookstore browsing.”Walking into a bookstore is a special feeling, it’s a special place,” said Cook.”For me, it’s kind of an oasis, or a haven, and you can’t get that online.”

Posted on by — Leave a comment

Strong Values, Strong Hearts

By Bernie Hunhoff

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the November/December 1995 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.


Writing and teaching has been the lifework of Virginia Driving Hawk Sneve, a Brule Sioux who grew up on the Rosebud Indian Reservation. Her literary achievements have garnered more attention than her classroom pursuits, but in both roles she has labored to cast a positive light on the differences between Native Americans and other races.

Sitting Bull, the great Sioux chief, was quoted as saying, “I have advised my people when you find anything good in the white man’s road pick it up but when you find something bad or that turns out bad drop it. Leave it alone.”

Sneve’s philosophy mirrors that quote. But she encourages her people to also recognize what is good in their own heritage. Sneve realized years ago that the strong values of Indian life were seldom revealed in stories of their culture — especially those family strengths which came under siege during the last 100 years of cultural integration in America.

When her daughter, Shirley, was reading books by Laura Ingalls Wilder in the early 1970s, she asked if the Sneves had lived the same experiences as the Wilders. Before she answered, Virginia read the books herself and discovered that the only reference to Indians spoke of “naked wild men” with horrible smells and bold, fierce faces. She then read other children’s literature and found similar treatment of her ancestry. Some stories told of brave young warriors and beautiful princesses but there were few stories that revealed the real-life strengths of the Indian culture and no stories of modern Indian children.

Sneve, who had been trying to write for adult women’s magazines, decided to try her hand at children’s stories. Her first, Jimmy Yellow Hawk, was a book about a little Sioux boy who wants to change his name. She wrote of his concerns in the contemporary world and the cultural reasons for Indian names. The book won a national competition for minority children’s books in 1972. That started Sneve on a career as a children’s author.

“It has been emotionally rewarding,” said the soft-spoken Sneve when we spoke with her in 1995. “I get letters from children who have criticisms or suggestions. Sometimes they have ideas for better endings. And they can be very blunt.”

But obviously not so blunt as to discourage her. Since the success of Jimmy Yellow Hawk she has written more children’s books and numerous short stories that have appeared in Boy’s Life and other publications and collections.

She has gained a reputation, both in Indian country and the literary community, as a first-rate storyteller. “Virginia is a good example of an elder in the traditional sense of the word,” explained Chuck Woodard, a professor of English at South Dakota State University in Brookings and longtime friend. “She’s a careful observer of experiences, and she has learned, not only from her own experiences but also of her people, which is one and the same in a tribal sense.”

Woodard said Sneve’s ability to imagine is a key to her writing. He said her 1995 book, Completing the Circle, “is a culmination of her lifelong reflections of what it means to be tribal. She uses both recorded events and her own imagination — developed by decades of examination and reflection.”

Sneve’s daughter, Shirley, saw signs of mom’s imagination when she told bedtime stories to her and her brothers, Paul and Alan. “She made up this series of episodes to get us to take a nap. I remember a witch named Helen and some other characters. But back then she left the Indian stories to my grandparents.”

Grist for Sneve’s stories is gleaned from her experiences growing up on the Rosebud Reservation. She attended BIA day schools and graduated from St. Mary’s High School for Indian Girls in Springfield. She then studied at SDSU in Brookings, graduating with a B.S. in 1954 and a master’s in education in 1969. She taught at schools in White, Pierre and Flandreau. When she retired as a teacher and counselor at Rapid City Central High School in 1994, it freed more time for writing.

Sneve sees her writing as an extension of her work as a teacher and counselor — and as a means to give an accurate portrayal of her ancestors’ lives on the Northern Plains. But Sneve doesn’t lecture. It’s not her style. She weaves a lot of legends and true family stories together with facts.

Her explorations have taught her much of the strengths and weaknesses of Sioux culture from the female point of view. “I was amazed at the tenacity of the women and how they held the family together. They had so many trials in their lives, especially in the last 100 years, but they still managed to survive and rise above those trials and not give in.”

She has noted that most literature is written from a male perspective. That is especially true in the case of the American Indian. “Male historians used male sources (missionary, military men and fur traders) in narrating their Sioux histories and those sources reported few events involving the women of the tribes, rarely even noting their names. Yet Indian women really had more of a say of what went on in tribal affairs than anyone on the outside realized,” said Sneve.

The Sioux felt women had a near-mystical power because they could give life. “The tribes realized they bore the children and if there were no women the tribe could not survive.” She discovered a quote from Standing Bear in 1931 who said, “Women and children were the objects of care among the Lakotas and as far as their environment permitted they lived sheltered lives. Life was softened by a greater equality. All the tasks of women — cooking, caring for children, tanning and sewing — were considered dignified and worthwhile. No work was looked upon as menial, consequently there were no menial workers.”

Virtue, modesty, hospitality and devotion to family were highly valued and young girls were encouraged to act appropriately and not bring shame upon the family. Pride in appearance and skill in the womanly arts were also important.

When white men first arrived on the plains, women who cohabited with them brought honor to their families and tribes, according to Sneve. But such marriages often resulted in drudgery and isolation for the Indian woman and if her husband became abusive she did not have the family support she would have had within the tribe.

Mixed-race marriages later became even more difficult. The Driving Hawk and Sneve family trees include such marriages. While they have been successful, Sneve has obviously pondered the dilemmas faced at times by both whites and Indians.

In 1977 she wrote a short story called “Grandpa Was a Cowboy and an Indian.” Here is an excerpt:

First I thought I’d stay out of it but after fists started flying, I jumped in. The first guy that swung at me was a white man so I hit back and was helping the Indians. I thumped away at my white friends till in the confusion an Indian got me in the gut. Now that made me mad. Here I was on his side and he slugged me. I gave him a good one back and then I was fighting Indians. I ended up getting whopped good by both sides and never did make up my mind which bunch I belonged with.

All the conflicts of the Indian culture — both from within and from the outside — caused much disruption in the lives of the Dakota people, said Sneve. “The fact that any families held together is pretty amazing.”

She thinks her own family did well, “because of the values that were passed down from the generations, particularly among the women. Family was important. We took care of one another.”

Those values are still alive today. “Indian women have become more politically active,” Sneve said. “I don’t think Indian women are so much feminists. They are not as concerned about women’s issues as they are about tribal issues and the issues that affect all of their people.”

Woodard, the English professor, said Sneve’s 1995 book represented “a strong affirmation of the values of Dakota women. It shows what powerful models they have been of integrity, courage, humor, storytelling ability and resilience.”

Somewhere between the lines there may also be a call to action, woman to woman, It’s not a loud bugle call — just a gentle lesson of how life was and how we all might learn from the past.

Virginia Driving Hawk Sneve Today

Sneve has continued to write since this article was published in 1995. Her most recent book, The Christmas Coat: Memories of my Sioux Childhood appeared in 2011. She has received many honors for her work, including the 1992 Native American Prose Award and the Spirit of Crazy Horse award in 1996. In 2000, Sneve was the first South Dakotan to receive the National Humanities Medal.

Watch for Sneve at the 2012 South Dakota Festival of Books in Sioux Falls. She will be presenting ìLakota Storytellingî and hosting a Q&A after the Lakota Berenstein Bears screening on Saturday.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

Plains Heritage Restored at Augustana

By Laura Johnson

Fans of Giants in the Earth, Ole Rolvaag’s classic novel of the Norwegian immigrant experience in Dakota Territory, or of South Dakota history will want to hitch up their wagons and strike out for Sioux Falls this Sunday, June 10. For the first time in three years, the cabin in which Rolvaag wrote his pioneer masterpiece will be open to the public. Visitors to Heritage Park, located on the Augustana College campus, can also tour the childhood home of Rolvaag’s bride, Jennie Berdahl, as well as Beaver Creek Lutheran Church and the Eggers School House, originally located near Renner Corner.

The Nordland Heritage Foundation, an organization devoted to preserving these structures, is celebrating the completion of their three year-painting, repair and landscaping project at Heritage Park with a 10:30 a.m. worship service at the church, followed by brunch. After the meal, Ole Rolvaag’s grandson Paul will speak at the foundation’s annual meeting. If you’d like to attend, please call 605-338-6372 or 605-359-0123 to reserve a spot for brunch and the meeting. The cost is $10.

The park and its historic buildings will be open for visits every Sunday from 2-4 p.m. from June 10 through August 26. Heritage Park is located at 33rd Street and Prairie Avenue in Sioux Falls. For tour information, call 605-274-4007. New features at the complex inlude Jennie Berdahl’s wedding dress in the Berdahl-Rolvaag House and a newly-restored 6 foot tall painting of Christ located behind the altar at Beaver Creek Lutheran Church.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

King of the Prairie Waters

By Bernie Hunhoff

Noted historian George Kingsbury lumped farm immigration, gold discoveries and — yes, believe it or not — catfish as three important factors to the settlement of Dakota.

In his book History of Dakota Territory (Vol. 1, p. 165), Kingsbury wrote, “in the opinion of many of the early settlers the food problem would have been a very serious one had it not been for the abundant supply of this best of all fishes right at the threshhold of the settlements.”

Kingsbury noted that catfish was somewhat out of favor at the time he wrote the book (about 1915). “It is occassionally remarked in these later times that the people of Dakota are not acquainted with the edible merits of this excellent fish, but send to eastern and western markets for an inferior article, while they have such an inexhaustible supply here at home.”

Immigrants to South Dakota make the same discovery today, according to a story in our May/June 2012 issue in which we feature Ukraine-born Nata Jones, who came to Yankton and enthusiastically took to catching and grilling Missouri River catfish.

Nata married a local fellow and instantly appreciated the smalltown atmosphere in Yankton. She hailed from Chernivtsi, a city of 240,000. “Everybody is so friendly and smiling. You don’t need to worry about nothing,” she told us in a delightful Euroopean accent. “If something happened, everybody would help me.”

And the catfish? “I fished in the Ukraine, too, but this is a little bit different here.” She and her husband, Brad, use stink bait to lure the whiskered bottom feeders so famous for their ability to smell.

South Dakota has Blue Catfish, Channel Cats and Flatheads. All can grow to immense proportions, but today’s intensive fishing — and perhaps the damming of the Missouri — might be resulting in fewer giant cats. The record Blue was a 97-pounder caught in 1959 and the biggest Channel was a 55-pounder caught way back in 1949.

However, Davin Holland of Tabor caught the state record Flathead (63.5 lbs.) just six years ago in the James River near Yankton. Cats are found in rivers, lakes and ponds across our state.

“For scores of years, the early traders subsisted almost exclusively on a diet of buffalo and catfish,” wrote Kingsbury a century ago.

Throw in a few tomatoes, morel mushrooms and wild asparagus and it doesn’t sound like a bad way to eat in South Dakota.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

The Isabel Artist

By Katie Hunhoff

South Dakota has artists living in some very rural areas. We’ve met many of them. Too often their talent and accomplishments go unrecognized because they don’t have access to galleries and exhibits like their more urban counterparts. One such artist was Jack Reich from Isabel, who died in November. We featured him in South Dakota Magazine through the years and his story has always stuck with me.

Reich was born without the use of his arms and hands due to nerve damage from a breech birth. Despite that disability, he eventually learned to drive, pushed by his father who told him that he could drive the pickup truck if he could get into the driver’s seat without assistance. “I never got to the point where I could use my hands,” he told us in 2006. “But I got to the point where I could drive a car, drive a tractor and ride a horse.”

And despite the fact that Reich couldn’t use his hands, he became an accomplished artist. After discovering he could paint by holding a paintbrush in his mouth, he studied art at South Dakota State University. He wasn’t surprised by his ability. “To be able to do artwork is a talent that comes from the inside,” he said. “It will find its way out.” He excelled in landscapes of the West.

Reich worked as an insurance salesman. He also was the mayor of Isabel for 18 years and a motel owner. But when he and his wife were in a car accident near Ipswich in 2002, he lost his ability to walk. His wife, Faith, died in the accident. He turned to painting and also wrote novels to fill his days. He published a science fiction novel called From Where the Sun Stands Now, Then Forever Stands. Reich saw similarities between writing and painting. “If you can express yourself with paint, you can do it with words,” he said. “You have to have a vivid imagination — you have to be able to look beyond things and see how they might have been.”

Reich’s last novel was 46,000 words long, typed on his Dell computer using his mouth and a pointer to move the keys. His desk was in a trailer house in Isabel, a small town in northwest South Dakota. “You do what you have to do and you don’t worry about what’s wrong with you,” he said. “What’s wrong with you is not important. That’s the underlying truth.”

His life is a South Dakota testimonial to the adage that what matters most is our abilities, not our disabilities.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

South Dakota Has Many Martys

By Heidi Marsh

My book club just finished reading”The Richest Man in Town,” the true story of a beloved Walmart cashier from Brookings, South Dakota, named Marty. Since the book was published over five years ago, it has gained both regional and national attention. The author, V.J. Smith, now travels all over the country speaking about the lessons learned from Marty.

If you haven’t read it, the kind old man was not rich at all. He lived a simple life with his wife and was very devoted to his job and the customers who came through his checkout line. He took extra effort to walk around the counter to shake every customer’s hand, sometimes even offering a hug. He actually listened to each patron and responded with more than just a simple”uh-huh” or”that’s nice.” Marty always took that extra step.

I love the story. I actually passed it around to my friends here at South Dakota Magazine. But, to be honest, I’m not that surprised. It is South Dakota after all. I know a handful of Martys, though maybe not to his level of fame.

Eric Tycz, for example, owned the Sportsmen’s Rendezvous in Tyndall. He pulled himself away from the kitchen every night to perform magic tricks for his customers. He called it a”Tyndall tradition” but in reality it was one more way to make his customers smile.

The young boy on the cover of our current issue is another example of”Martyism.” Four-year-old James Danh greets customers at Pho Quynh restaurant in Sioux Falls. Since the issue hit newsstands, we’ve received a flood of emails and calls from people who regularly visit the Vietnamese restaurant not only for the delicious food, but also the welcoming smile and silly jokes from James.

Who is the Marty in your community?

Posted on by — Leave a comment

Festival of Books

Writers and readers share a universal bond, and therein lies the ever-growing success of the South Dakota Book Festival, which was held this past weekend in the historic havens of downtown Deadwood. There were standing-room-only crowds for most of the presentations, which ranged from New Yorker cartooning to Auschwitz, six-man football in South Dakota and the Rapid City flood. The festival, in its nine-year history, has quickly emerged as one of the best such gatherings in the country. Photos by Bernie Hunhoff.

Posted on by — Leave a comment

Karolevitz: Rose to the Challenge

By Bernie Hunhoff

Way back in the 1960s, a bunch of 4-H kids gathered at Pine Acres 4-H Grounds in Yankton for our annual meeting. We enjoyed our moms’ potluck casseroles and then some guy with a crewcut got up to speak.

He explained that he had recently moved back to Yankton, and then he started telling stories. Funny stories. We’d never heard anything like him — not even on television or radio. He knew stories about people and places we knew and loved.

That was my introduction to Bob Karolevitz. About a decade later, when my brother, Brian and I were figuring out how to get more readers for our newspaper, The Yankton County Observer, I remembered that funny guy. Brian suggested that we get acquainted with him by featuring him in our paper. Bob had just finished writing the state’s history in commemoration of the state’s bi-centennial, and he was as busy as anybody in South Dakota. But he happily met with Brian, and the very next week we featured him and his lovely wife, Phyllis.

Before long, Bob agreed to write a humor column that appeared weekly in The Observer for the past 30 years. Through the years, many other papers also started to publish his weekly humor. I don’t think I ever read his column without remembering that 4-H dinner at Pine Acres.

Sadly, Bob had to stop writing the column a year ago due to declining health. And last Friday night, Bob Karolevitz died at age 89. South Dakota has lost one of its greatest historians and perhaps its most prolific author.

Karolevitz was one of America’s great promoters. In fact, he was a well-known public relations director on the West Coast before he came home to Yankton in the 1960s to establish a literary career. Many South Dakotans probably won’t recognize his name because of the simple fact that he never promoted himself any more than absolutely necessary.

Still, among journalists and historians he will forever be remembered for the timeless books he provided. Some were serious, like the bi-centennial book that today is regarded as one of the most complete and readable histories ever penned. He titled it South Dakota: The Challenge State because he believed the our peoples’ trials and tribulations have led to an admirable work ethic and value system. He once worked to nickname South Dakota.”The Challenge State,” but it never quite took hold.

Karolevitz dedicated the book to “South Dakotans of all eras — Indian and non-Indian men and women … and especially those who have faced and conquered the challenges in anonymity.”

His stories were not just about the rich and famous, the powerful and political. His blue collar boyhood days in Depression era Yankton must have taught him that the folks who really make a community and a state successful are those who work long days on the farms, in the stores and factories and offices.

In the early 1980s, we collaborated with Bob to compile some of his funny columns into a series of popular books. The first was titled Touloose the Goose and Other Ridiculous Stories. We pictured Bob at his beloved Mission Hill farm, caught in a mess of barbed wire, digging a grave for a favorite hen and riding a hobbyhorse. He made a living as a serious writer, thinker and speaker — but he also had a knack for making us laugh and it’s a gift he shared.

My favorite Karolevitz story is about the church meeting where members are trying to decide how to spend a $100 donation they’d received from an estate. One fellow made a motion that the church buy a chandelier with the money, but his neighbor jumped up to speak in opposition.

“Let’s not waste this money on a chandelier!” he argued. “We don’t need some darned chandelier. What this church needs is more light!”

Of course, there was often a lesson in Bob’s humor. But he was never one to preach to readers or listeners. You might not realize you learned something until hours after the hearty laugh.

In all, Karolevitz wrote 37 books, plus countless newspaper articles and stories — including many fine contributions to South Dakota Magazine. His writings will be of immeasurable value for as long as there is a South Dakota. What a void we would have in many areas of literature if Bob and his wife, Phyllis, had not wanted to return to their home state from Seattle more than 50 years ago with their two daughters, Jan and Jill. Phyllis was a a full partner in Bob’s work, helping with research, book sales, travel arrangements, farm chores and numerous other details that writers often neglect.

South Dakota has never been an easy place to earn a living as a writer. That was especially true when he came home in the 1960s. He never became rich from the 37 books and the thousands of columns he wrote — but we are all far richer because he wrote them.