PINKE POST

Stay out of the future to see what life brings

Katie Pinke — Fri, 22 Mar 2024 10:30:00 GMT

After watching our daughters play a combined 40 basketball games this winter, our family traveled to Marshall, Minnesota, last week for the National Wheelchair Basketball Association Collegiate Tournament. This was a finale to our basketball-filled winter and the last collegiate basketball tournament for our son, Hunter, 26, a two-year captain on the University of Arizona men’s wheelchair basketball team.

Of the many universities across the country that could bid and be awarded the national tournament our upper Midwest family felt fortunate last year when the tournament was in Wisconsin and this year in Minnesota, both drivable routes for our crew to travel.

Our teenage daughters wished for a warmer spring break tournament location. Instead, the 300-mile drive allowed 50 family members and friends to gather for four days. From my siblings, their spouses, niece, nephews, my parents, in-laws, uncles, aunts, cousins, lifelong family friends, Hunter’s former college football coach, teammates and families all filled the stands in Marshall, Minnesota, not a spring break destination for anyone but us this year.

Together we watched one big game a day, cheering on Hunter and his Wildcat teammates and gathered at a different local restaurant daily for a shared family meal across generations.

WDAY News reporter Kevin Wallevand covered Hunter’s journey and tournament outcome, a second-place finish for the second consecutive year. A runner-up finish wasn’t the final goal; a championship was. But when it all ended, and Arizona, the top seed, lost in the championship game to the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater, I felt disappointed for Hunter’s Arizona teammates and coach. However, I didn't feel any disappointment in the experience we shared.

For the journey traveled, I felt immense joy and gratefulness and sat on a side bleacher alone for a few minutes to reflect on the end of collegiate sports for our son. From college football to what I thought was the end of team sports after a skiing accident and spinal cord injury to having this bonus life chapter of collegiate wheelchair basketball, I chuckled at all I didn’t know and what fun it’s been to be a fan and cheerleader mom through the unexpected.

On the side bleacher after the championship game ended, I thought of the unknown we experienced just four years leaving spinal cord injury rehab in Colorado with Hunter during pandemic shutdowns to return home to the farm in North Dakota, never knowing about adaptative athletics at the University of Arizona and the role it could positively play in our son and family’s near future.

A few mornings a week, when our girls and I all manage to be in the kitchen at the same time, I read a teen girls’ devotional written by blogger “Boo Mama” Sophie Hudson to them. They’re teenagers, so it interrupts their morning rush sometimes, and I wonder if anything I am saying connects.

Last week, Elizabeth, 16, said, “Mom, the best thing you read and said to us was the lesson about 'Stay out of the future.' I just keep repeating that to myself.”

I reread the devotional on “Stay out of the future,” about avoiding worrying and trying to control what the future holds. My teenager gave me a nudge of a reminder to continue to follow this wise direction.

Watching and encouraging our adult son’s journey over the past four years disciplined me to stay out of the future. His future in a wheelchair continues to surpass anything I could have planned or known as a fearful, worrying mom four years ago.

Whether it’s your family life, a specific relationship, day-to-day work, small business, farm or ranch, stay out of the future as we head into spring, a new, fresh season. I hope you experience a few wow moments in your future where you can also sit on the sidelines and be filled with joy for the journey you didn’t know but kept trusting in better tomorrows.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

Remembering the way it used to be but not returning to it

Katie Pinke — Fri, 26 Jan 2024 11:30:00 GMT

Visibility limited my ability to see into the distance, but I drove westbound on the highway to our daughters’ basketball games last week and called my husband by speaker phone. We drove separately due to work schedules, following one another to the game.

I knew where we were and could see the grain bin and grove of trees to the south of the highway. The air temperature was below zero, the wind chill even lower. We were 13 miles from any rural community.

I said to Nathan, “Coming up here on the left is a farmstead that we should pause and remember how good our life is today because it is where my great-grandmother was raised with her six siblings, originally in a sod house by her widowed mother.”

Nathan said, “Yes, imagine being out there today.”

I sat on my heated car seat, holding onto my heated steering wheel in my warm, gasoline-powered four-wheel drive vehicle, with my husband driving similarly, talking to one another via mobile phones, and we continued to the game.

Since then, on a few more game-day road trips, my imagination swirls of how my ancestors endured each winter to survive, how little they had, and how much we have been given.

In the depths of feeling like we’re being challenged by a difficult task, as simple as driving in tough winter conditions in brutal cold, it’s a humble reminder to reflect on those before us, the trail they blazed, and the sacrifices they made to build up a future for the next generation.

My mother-in-law talked on a recent drive to a game about riding on her horse, Spotty, with her brother, with no saddle, which kept them warmer on winter days to and from their farm to get to school in the winter. Her teacher stayed in the schoolhouse in the winter as it was too far from her to get home daily, and she went home to her nearby town only on weekends.

I don't want to return to how it used to be. I like the school bus picking up one daughter for school while the other daughter drives herself. Ask them why they don't ride together.

I also do not want to forget where we came from and honor the progress we may take for granted, even in our remote, rural American corners. My girls are not riding a horse to school together any winter of their lives, and their teachers go to their homes after school each day.

While doing things the way they used to be is not all wrong, I am proud of rural America’s evolution and push for progress. Agweek reports on agriculture's technology growth and advancements weekly. While we utilize technology to keep rural America pushing forward, I still want to pause to make sure my kids know just a bit about where we've come from ahead of their time.

To my teenagers, my childhood of 30 to 40 years ago is the olden days — not sod houses, where our Norwegian ancestors lived as I think of the olden days.

This week,our girls played games in Glenfield, North Dakota, population 97, a part of the Griggs-Midkota sports co-op.

I walked into the gym to see the banners hanging on the wall when Midkota girls basketball went to the state tournament for many years during my high school days and won a state basketball championship in 1995.

As daughter Anika played in a game and daughter Elizabeth walked by to go to the locker room, she looked up at me. I said, “This gym is home to a state championship girls team and a former Miss Basketball winner.”

Elizabeth smiled to acknowledge me peppering her with girls' sports history. Remembering where we've come from matters to me, but it wasn't on her mind.

Midkota’s grades four through six sang the Star-Spangled Banner before the varsity game. Rural America can progress, but we remain true to who we are and our values.

We can remember where we come from, who we are, the influences before us and acknowledge the past. We don't need a return to the yesteryears.

As our girls played basketball, my mom and mother-in-law sat by me in the stands. Neither of them had an opportunity to play competitive high school sports in their rural North Dakota schools. They now cheer and watch their granddaughters compete on winter nights.

When we drove home last night in the dark, blowing snow across the same highway as we passed the original homestead where my ancestors once survived in a sod house and instead of pondering how little they had to survive, I filled with gratitude and happiness.

While they may not recognize all of our progress in today’s modern agriculture, farms, and ranches, I hoped they would be proud of the progress of generations who followed them, staying close to roots and pushing forward to compete in the future.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

Why did a stranger gift me a subscription to a local newspaper?

Katie Pinke — Fri, 12 Jan 2024 11:30:00 GMT

"Weird but true" read the subject line of an early fall email I received. Inside it said, "We had a gentleman stop in this afternoon who paid for a gift subscription that he wanted sent to you. He doesn't know you, but he had cut out your column from a month or so ago about subscribing to the Traill County Tribune right before the paper closed. Apparently, he wanted you to have a free subscription to the Banner and insisted we take his money and offer it to you."

The email was sent by Hillsboro (North Dakota) Banner Editor Cole Short, who also serves as president of the North Dakota Newspaper Association.

Why did a stranger gift me a subscription to a small-town newspaper?

I live 47 miles from Hillsboro, which I pass when heading south on Interstate 29. I've visited the gas station, met friends at the cafe, and gone to school sports activities there. I once visited Maura, the school therapy dog, for a story on the school FFA program.

But I don't have personal connection to Hillsboro. I subscribe to three small-town newspapers in communities in which I am personally vested. I was not sold the Hillsboro Banner would be relevant to me.

I subscribed previously to the Traill County Tribune because it covered my kids' school co-op's sports. I was disappointed at its closure only a month after I subscribed.

Over the past three months, the gift subscription to the Banner reminded me of the importance of engaging with our local communities and supporting the area businesses that put their advertising and marketing efforts into local news platforms.

I replied again to Short's fall email about my gift subscription this past week. Short runs the Banner with his brother-in-law and business partner Cory Erickson, who designs ads and serves as the primary photographer.

Most subscribers are residents of Hillsboro, but they added 250 subscribers when the Tribune closed, and they hired a part-time reporter from the Tribune to cover city councils of three area communities and write people and business stories. They also added a longtime columnist from the Tribune.

Before the Tribune closed, the Banner expanded its news coverage of nearby Mayville State University and sees strong subscriber and advertising support from the university.

Short referenced a recent school survey from a research firm, �� Perceptions, which found that 68% of parents of the Hillsboro �� District and an "eye-popping" 89% of respondents without children in the district wanted to receive school news from the local newspaper.

In a reply email to me, Short said, "We have a good thing going. We realize that. We're literally adding new subscribers every day, so we're pretty fortunate in that regard."

The stranger who gifted me the subscription — if he was a regular reader of my column — knew I support and appreciate all kinds of rural communities. I now feel more connected to the people, farm fields and businesses in Hillsboro, simply by reading the paper.

I feel fortunate to be a subscriber of this paper. I eventually will advertise our small business in the Hillsboro Banner, because these are my kind of people. Thank you to the stranger who reads my columns and kindly gifted me a subscription.

I see New Year's resolutions of people who want to read more in 2024. Start with a local newspaper subscription — print or digital. Engage with communities you care about, or get to know a new community through news reporting.

Know and understand the work of your city council and county commission, know who represents your legislative district and their work, read about community events, see photos of happenings around you, and read and engage with businesses in your area.

As a middle-aged mom and small business owner, I understand my generation and younger may not be reading a printed paper as much as I am. Subscribe digitally. Or be a gifter; share a news subscription with someone — a friend, a family member or even a stranger.

Thank you to my family members, who all pay for their Agweek subscriptions annually. You may just be getting a gift subscription this year from me.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Instagram or X @katpinke.]]>

Buying a 4-H beef heifer on your 16th birthday

Katie Pinke — Fri, 22 Dec 2023 11:30:00 GMT

What do you buy a teenager turning 16 years old? The only gifts I remember from my teen years from my parents were luggage "to go to college" and a tent — my dad said, "So you'll never be homeless."

I brainstormed new ideas last month for our daughter Elizabeth's pending 16th birthday with my husband as we flew to Tucson, Arizona, on Thanksgiving Day to spend the holiday with our son. Our youngest daughter traveled with us, and my parents were already there.

Elizabeth stayed home with my grandma as she had high school basketball practice to attend after the holiday. She feasted on the meal I prepared ahead for her to warm up, and she baked two pecan pies with my Grandma Nola's recipe in her farmhouse kitchen.

Following the Thanksgiving feast, Elizabeth deer hunted with my cattleman uncle, Jim. While she didn't fill her deer tag, she also brainstormed her 16th birthday present with Jim.

When we arrived home on Sunday from our quick Arizona holiday, Elizabeth presented her birthday idea. On her 16th birthday, Dec. 9, there was a Hereford sale from which she planned to purchase a heifer with my uncle's insight and help. She knew the amount of money in her savings account and had a specific amount she wanted to allocate toward the purchase.

Would her father and I contribute towards the 4-H beef heifer purchase on her 16th birthday? she asked.

Elizabeth, Nathan, younger sister Anika and I discussed a budget. The top heifer in the sale we agreed would go for more than Elizabeth (and we) were prepared to pay. But she wanted to aim for another one, possibly the second best, my uncle thought, in the sale.

Non-livestock Nathan said he gets nervous transporting such expensive animals. Anika cut a smile realizing that her dad may not have realized in the past how much we've spent on 4-H animals and then confessing how much her bred cow was purchased for last fall. Yes, we talked to him about it, but it may not have stuck.

Then we all talked about the "why" behind our support of our girls and their 4-H beef projects and engagement.

We're not active farmers or ranchers. We have other small businesses. Our family members do actively farm and ranch, and we want our girls to know, understand and learn agriculture.

Then Elizabeth said, "And our cattle can help us pay for college when we don't have any other money!"

And so it was, on Elizabeth's 16th birthday, she, with two of my uncles' assistance and direction, bought the heifer she wanted. It was a snowy day that didn't allow for travel, but the cattle sale was online.

When she shared the total purchase price, she pointed out it was under the budget we set, and she was paying a majority of the cost from her savings for a new 4-H beef project for 2024.

As an additional gift for her birthday, non-livestock Nathan drove to the farm, picked up my uncle's pickup and trailer and drove to pick up the heifer and bring it home. He may not raise livestock himself but Nathan is a dad who loves to see joy in our kids and supports their passions, even if different than his own.

We will always remember Elizabeth's 16th birthday heifer purchase — different than most girls' wish lists for their Sweet 16. Watching our kids grow their passion and develop life skills by engaging in agriculture fills me with joy this dark winter season, thinking ahead to the warmer days of spring and early summer when our girls will be in the thick of beef project preparations and county fair showing. The sweetness of each season, and birthday, I appreciate.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

Support the next generation as they blaze their own trail

Katie Pinke — Fri, 01 Dec 2023 11:30:00 GMT

My deep passion for agriculture didn't grow until my early adult years when I was a young mother. This past month, I saw my son share his passion for agriculture at the 50th annual Missouri Governor's Conference on Agriculture.

After leaving home, rural North Dakota and the family farm, I learned my greatest passions rooted back to where I came from, in agriculture, communications and rural North Dakota.

I eventually returned to the farm by the age of 25. While my career has taken me across North America, I stayed put in two places I love and know best, working in agriculture and living in rural North Dakota.

I shared my passion for agriculture intently with my son, Hunter, as he grew up and now share it as well with our teenage daughters. However we all know in life, your passions do not necessarily transfer to your children. Both my husband and I work to give our children opportunities to find their own passions and interests. But anyone in agriculture understands the unique and intense passion of this shared connection.

Hunter is now 26 years old. His passion for agriculture developed on the farm with my dad and also through my husband's example and past with FFA. Hunter wore Nathan's FFA blue jacket when he first started in the organization and grew his own passion for agriculture through FFA.

Hunter hasn't been active in FFA since 2016 when he graduated from high school. He played college football, earned an engineering degree and now plays wheelchair basketball while in architecture and real estate graduate school at the University of Arizona, 1,800 miles from our rural North Dakota home.

Through his speaking platform and business, he grows his passion for speaking to agriculturists through FFA events, ag businesses and agriculture conferences.

A couple of weeks ago, I sat as an attendee at the 50th annual Missouri Governor's Conference on Agriculture with Hunter as the closing keynote speaker. My longtime friend Missouri Director of Agriculture Chris Chinn invited him and asked if I would attend also.

Many of you know the feeling I had sitting and listening to Hunter. I respect and honor children who follow in the footsteps of their parents, doing something similar yet blazing their own trail. In this space, I am Hunter's behind-the-scenes fan in the crowd and a proud mom. I experienced more joy in listening to Hunter speak and share his own story at an agriculture conference than I ever have felt speaking at ag event myself.

It's a life lesson I never would have known in my 20s as I was parenting Hunter and trying to carve out my own career path in agriculture — similar yet different from my own agriculturist and communications professional parents.

Learning and growing never stops. Agriculture keeps teaching me how much I love the work, the livelihood and the shared passions we hold.

You may find a shared passion with the next generation in agriculture on your farm, ranch or agribusiness. Or it might be at a conference. It doesn't have to be your own child. It can be a neighbor kid or someone you met while volunteering in your local 4-H club or FFA chapter.

The most important lesson we can all do together: Encourage the next generation to blaze their own path but to reassure them they have an important place in this vital space we love, American agriculture.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

Nick Hagen and Molly Yeh's culinary haven with farmer flavor

Katie Pinke — Fri, 17 Nov 2023 11:30:00 GMT

I first discovered Molly Yeh on Instagram before she was a Food Network star. She married a native of my area, farmer Nick Hagen. While she worked at the local food co-op, I followed her food blog and recipes. I enjoyed how she discovered local fare and then put her own twist on it.

Often I've seen city folk mock our farm food traditions. What I love about Molly Yeh is how she embraced the farm and food culture of the upper Midwest and made it her own while building her brand, business and notoriety.

For the past year, I watched friends share about visiting Yeh and Hagen's restaurant, Bernie's, in East Grand Forks, Minnesota, just across the Red River, near my North Dakota home. Last month, I finally visited, twice.

Bernie's creates a culinary haven I adore having in our agriculturally rich region, combining farm connections to the food on the menu and served to each patron.

My husband and I first visited Bernie's for a rare lunch date. Nathan ordered his childhood dream meal, hotdish.

Nathan's parents tell of a story when they took him to a restaurant as a young boy and he asked the waitress if she had any hotdish, a staple food in their family home.

If you live in the upper Midwest, you understand the difference between hotdish and casserole. If you're not, a hotdish is a staple of rural, farm fare with protein, starch and often a vegetable as one meal. Don't confuse it with a side dish casserole.

The hotdish at Bernie's rotates monthly. Nathan had a chili hotdish with cornbread topping served with honey. His childhood desire to order hotdish at a restaurant came true finally in his mid-40s.

My grilled pickle, cheese and bacon sandwich with a side of local greens filled me but just to fill us both up even more, I ordered the cookie salad.

Cookie salad isn't a salad, except it is in the Midwest.

Bernie's cookie salad is Molly Yeh's gourmet upgrade and the best cookie salad in all of the land. If you've eaten decades of cookie salads at church potlucks in our region like me, order the cookie salad at Bernie's for an upgrade.

I brought leftovers home to our daughters, and they laughed at my excitement. I am a middle-aged rural mom who gets excited about things such as cookie salad.

When two farmer friends came to visit me for a weekend later in October, I made an Open Table reservation at Bernie's.

Both friends actively raise livestock, farm and raise kids. I wanted them to feel like our visit was a getaway. They have both visited parts of Europe for different agricultural tours.

At Bernie's the simple, clean decor and delightful food experience gave us a "European cafe" feel "without the eight-hour flight to get there!" said one of my friends.

Yeh and Hagen's choosing to open their signature restaurant in East Grand Forks, Minnesota is a nod to their commitment to the community and region and their respect for where food comes from and how it is raised. They are connecting new audiences to this region's agriculture and food with their base of followers and fans outside of the usual communities around us. Plus, the experience draws people like me in to return, for more than cookie salad.

Call me a farm foodie fan of Bernie's, and I'll be crossing the Red River of the North more often to bring more friends to experience the homey cuisine and cafe. Bernie's is open Tuesday through Sundays, 8:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. My husband's favorite part is you can walk over to Cabela's when you're done eating at Bernie's.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

Decrease screen time, unplug from sports and school, enroll in 4-H

Katie Pinke — Fri, 06 Oct 2023 10:30:00 GMT

Why enroll your child in 4-H this year?

To name a few: to get them away from screens, to get them to engage in varied activities, to grow new skills, to interact with different people outside of usual social circles, to participate in community service and to help them find a passion from a project, county or state contest or 4-H camp. Any and all of these are possible with 4-H membership, and if you talk to someone active in 4-H, they’ll list off more benefits of 4-H membership for youth ages 5 to 18.

The 4-H motto “To Make the Best Better” exemplifies how youth learn by doing in 4-H clubs. For those of us close to agriculture, we all have examples of how 4-H did this for us.

Yes, our kids have full plates at school, in activities, sports or music.

4-H breaks up the sports and school grind, and as one member said recently at our club meeting when encouraging others to join 4-H she said, “4-H brings it all together."

Both as a parent of two 4-H members and a local 4-H club leader, 4-H membership brings a diversity of lifelong skill development and exposure to different experiences youth do not necessarily receive in school or extra-curricular activities.

No, 4-H isn’t just cows and cooking like some preconceived ideas I’ve been told by friends. You do not have to be a farm kid or live in a rural area to be a 4-H member.

My take is 4-H helps my kids simply be better humans. They're more well-rounded learning from others and on their own as 4-H members than anything my husband and I would teach them at home and on our own.

Everyone is welcome in a 4-H club. Every county in America has a 4-H program, run your Cooperative Extension Service. Every state has an Extension service through its land grant university.

If you think 4-H isn’t for you, in your location, for your kids, you may be wrong. 4-H experiences are what you choose to make them, as much or as little as you choose with your child.

The new 4-H year starts in September, and you enroll in the fall.

In September, at our kick-off club meeting, more than 10 members presented their 4-H involvement, activities and projects they chose to do in the past year. The skills gained by each who shared varied greatly, and the pride in their experiences shined.

For our October meeting time, we held committee meetings of volunteer members ages 8 to 16 planning our club’s participation in the local Trunk or Treat event later this month. A different committee meeting planned a community event with cookies and Christmas trees in December. Our club meeting followed and included a game for club members to get to know one another. A snack provided by a family was shared among all members. Then the group made cut out, stuffed, sewed and donated teddy bears to a local health care facility.

We could have been at home watching the Minnesota Vikings win their first game of the season, but instead, we spent our Sunday afternoon at a 4-H meeting. It’s always my favorite Sunday afternoon of the month.

In the months to come, our 4-H club members will work on an electricity project and learn money management and how to make a budget, along with bread baking, woodworking, photography, wildlife track identification, and archery, as well as numerous opportunities 4-H offers throughout the year in our county and state, open to all 4-H members.

4-H varies in each club and county, which I’ve learned through interacting with other county Extension agents, leaders, 4-H families and once attending a 4-H camp with my daughters.

The motto “To Make the Best Better” weaves throughout each 4-H club and builds up our youth for their bright futures.

Enroll your youth in 4-H this fall. Happy National 4-H Week! Thank you to the many volunteers, staff and families working to build up 4-H in your counties and states.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

'Do something' after Hatton-Northwood bus accident leads to prayer

Katie Pinke — Fri, 22 Sep 2023 10:30:00 GMT

Local and area news covered the Sept. 14 Hatton-Northwood volleyball team bus accident extensively. Our girls are in their fifth year attending Northwood Public �� and were not on the bus. Their classmates, teammates and friends were.

One thing we learned from experiencing trauma as a family in the past is how people covered us in prayer and lifted us up in their own unique ways to give us strength, courage and hope.

That Thursday night, we sat in our living room, the girls would say the name of a girl on the bus, and we’d pray for her.

Name by name, one by one, medical teams, family members, we covered them in prayer, again and again.

One of our daughters said, “Mom, we have to do something.”

I said, “We are doing what we’re supposed to do. We’re praying.”

In my urgency to do something in my life, I learned my best, most immediate action should and is to pray about it, more than I talk about it. As a younger person, prayer didn't feel like enough. But it is the foundation of who I am and what I know to do first in life. In glorious moments, everyday life to the most painful experiences, we pray.

By the next morning that prayer time extended to the front of Northwood Public �� at 7:50 a.m. where more than 100 gathered, huddled together in prayers. I cried through my words, but I kept praying for my daughters’ friends, our bus driver, for our coach, for the family who lost a loved one, for my treasured friends by their daughters’ sides, for the EMS, medical teams and schools. The community of Hatton held a similar prayer gathering.

Everyone processes trauma differently. What that looks like for each of us varies. The “do something” my daughters felt led to a Friday night shopping trip to buy king-sized pillows and pillowcases, a tangible gift we know brings comfort.

On Saturday, our daughters baked pumpkin muffins, cooked chicken spaghetti in disposable foil pans to share, and then visited friends.

We gathered again as a family in the living room for prayer.

On Sunday morning, I felt heavy and tired as we walked into our small-town church. I followed my family in, praying for joy and peace to fill me.

Inside the door, a sign of peace came when two of our daughter Elizabeth’s classmates who were in the bus accident stood. Broken, bruised, stapled, stitched, they came to church.

I was in awe. Seeing prayers answered in person filled me with the peace I was seeking in that moment and continued.

Later in the day, first at the monthly 4-H meeting and then at a golf team supper, more injured friends showed up who I knew were hurting.

My prayers became more specific as the days continued. I hold a deeper understanding now how people pray for others, and how vested they become in a person's healing and recovery by praying for the person.

On Monday, the Region 3 Class B girls' golf tournament was held in Devils Lake, postponed from Friday. Three of our six varsity golfers who were scheduled to golf on Friday were in the bus accident.

The welcome the team pulled up to find the opposing golfers and coaches holding Thunder Strong volleyball signs.

Everyone’s “do something” after a tragic accident looks different. Combining the intentional acts of love and care creates beauty in the midst of brokenness.

My perspective on life, people, raising kids and how we choose to live our life changed from walking through our family’s trauma journey. Seeing the response to the Hatton-Northwood bus accident jostled me again to love others above all things.

There are 27 survival stories of each volleyball player, their coach and bus driver. They’re each here to keep living. Pray for their complete recovery and healing.

The only way I know to get through life, through the pain, loss and brokenness we each experience at times, is to keep going. Sometimes it’s to get to the next hour. Some days it is to walk into church, to go to the 4-H meeting, to take off a day of work to attend the regional golf meet and to walk into the gym to cheer on the junior high volleyball teams.

I witnessed this ability to persevere by many this past week.

Whether near my community or far, you most likely understand how rural communities rally around one another in difficult times. The action of doing something to help changes outcomes for others.

On Tuesday evening, our Hatton-Northwood seventh- and eighth-grade volleyball teams joined hands with the opponent ahead of the first match. The younger sister of a player in the bus accident led a prayer.

From social media, I see group prayer happening now across rural to big city gyms across our state and region, taking action by praying.

The next time you feel a “do something” nudge, do not brush it off. Pray first and then go where you are led to help others.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>

I subscribed last month, then the nearby newspaper closed

Katie Pinke — Fri, 08 Sep 2023 10:30:00 GMT

Last month, I subscribed to the Traill County (North Dakota) Tribune. It arrived in our mailbox the next week, and my teenage daughters excitedly flipped through the pages to read about their school sports co-op news.

Elizabeth, 15, said, "Mom, how did we get this?"

I subscribed by paying $30 for the year, I explained, and I shared that while we don't live in Traill County, our school co-ops with Hatton in Traill County and I thought the sports coverage would be fun to read weekly for our family. The $30 doesn't cover the printing or postage I knew, but offset their expenses in order to bring us local news coverage.

Anika, 14, dug into reading the article about the upcoming high school football season for area teams. After my own reading of the newspaper, I noted that we should advertise our family's small business in the newspaper and thought at the end of the year when I place print ads in some local newspapers for our small businesses I would add the Traill County Tribune to the list.

Then on Sept. 2, 2023, after 143 years of publishing, the Traill County Tribune ceased production. Our last edition arrived and once again my girls shared shock of how and why, only different this time than when I first subscribed just the month prior.

Our family may have been one of the last new subscribers to the Traill County Tribune, and while not vested for long in the newspaper, the loss makes me terribly sad for a wide swath of people in communities and the county, as well as for businesses, schools and each and every tax payer.

I read through the ads of the businesses in the last edition. They placed their ads not knowing it was their last ad, and I wondered where they would go now to advertise, hoping to keep their dollars local and regional, rather than going directly to unnamed social media platforms to put their money into something that is never giving back or serving local communities or our region.

You may be one who never subscribed to local news and doesn't frequent your local businesses. But you also might be one who goes to both and asks for donations for a local organization your kids are a part of or a board you serve on.

Most of us are guilty of this scenario a time or two. Let's change.

Change by supporting the businesses you can around you. Subscribe to news you value. The news doesn't have to be directly where you live.

When my brother was hired as a small-town school superintendent this year, I subscribed to the town's online version of their newspaper. Each week, I get an email to click on a link and read the digital version. I am interested in the community news of my brother and his family. I also subscribe to larger community and national news organizations. Being an engaged citizen for me means knowing and connecting with local, regional, national and international news.

And yes, you can say I am biased. I work and live in news.

News organizations need to return to you a quality product you want to engage with and find value in the work.

As publisher of Agweek, which has been published weekly since July 1985 and added agweek.com and then AgweekTV through growth and expansion, our team works to do this every day. We're also owned by Forum Communications Company, a fifth-generation family media company rooted in the region.

Through our Agweek work, we interview farmers, ranchers, agribusiness professionals, extension agents and researchers in and around your rural communities, counties and states. We partner with agribusinesses in their marketing and advertising. We know the people and listen.

Rural America needs news coverage.

I left the Traill County Tribune's last edition on my kitchen counter and haven't had the heart to toss it.

The sting of the loss stayed with me and makes me want us all to dig in to support those around us.

Choose a news outlet that matters to you. Support it with your paid subscription, not your social media news feed only. Reach out to the sales team to find a new way to advertise your business, service or item you're selling.

Thank you to those in the trenches serving our rural communities, counties and corners of rural America in ways named and unnamed. You keep us connected.

To the staff at the Traill County Tribune, I remain a fan of your work and dedication. Thank you.

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Fill a thermos, pack a lunch: it's harvest time

Katie Pinke — Fri, 25 Aug 2023 10:30:00 GMT

Combines roll in small-grain fields near my rural home and memories flash into my mind.

During harvest, I used to fill thermoses with iced tea, lemonade, water or coffee, depending on who it was for, and help my grandma pack "lunch kits" as we called them.

The "kits" were black, plastic lunch boxes with metal clasps. But what was inside of the lunch kits mattered most. One side held the Thermos of liquid and the other side was the lunch, often two homemade — never store-bought — cookies wrapped in wax paper, a whole piece of fruit like an apple, peach or plum and a meat sandwich, often venison summer sausage from the previous fall's successful hunt, with a light layer of butter on two slices of wheat bread. We'd also rotate different days with peanut butter sandwiches, spread with homemade fruit jam that Grandma Nola also taught me to make.

If we were low on sandwich meat or regular peanut butter, I made a few Cheez-Whiz sandwiches, which I think you need to be from a certain part of rural America to even know about. My grandma always had an open jar of Cheez-Whiz in her refrigerator and more backup jars on a pantry shelf in the stairway to the basement.

I imagine the disappointment if you thought I had made you a meaty sandwich and instead, the bread contained a smear of processed cheese product.

Grandpa never got a Cheez-Whiz sandwich though. Grandma had some low-sugar and sodium, healthier peanut butter for him. I'd sneak in a special sandwich creation for my Grandpa Sonny, peanut butter and pickles — defeating the sodium limitations — or peanut butter and banana, and make one for myself for later too.

I knew if I filled my own thermos and had my own (most years was Strawberry Shortcake) lunch box ready I catch a ride to the field too.

Harvest lunch kits weren't for lunch, or noon time. They were more of an afternoon snack time, between dinner at noon and supper later in the field.

Masking tape with my best penmanship labeled each lunch kit.

I lined them up with my grandma by the door for the harvest crew to take with them after they all came in the house for a big meat and potatoes homemade dinner that we set the table for and often included freshly picked peas or green beans from the garden just outside the back door of my grandparent's farm home.

I drove into my grandma's farmyard this morning with my mom, who taught me how to make the best harvest suppers. We walked into the entrance where the lunch kits used to line up, sat in the kitchen where decades ago I helped pack lunches and fill thermos and walked through the dining room where noontime dinners still fill my memory.

I sat and visited with my mom, in her late 60s, and my grandma, in her early 90s, both farm women who taught me to serve others and feed them well.

Routines change and in the midst of doing what needs to be done we are not always aware of the deep life lessons and memories being created.

My nephews, niece, our daughters and son all get in on harvest as they can around school schedules. While they won't be filling a masking tape-labeled black lunch kit, they're still filling a thermos and packing a lunch to get in on a slice of harvest.

Thank you to all who serve through harvest. The seen and behind the scenes, those on the payroll and those not, young, middle-aged to retired, filling in or full-time, you keep harvest rolling in America.

If harvest feels only of yesteryear for you or just what a neighbor or cousin does, fill a couple of thermoses, pack lunches, and ask if you can bring them some harvest lunch to the field, go for a ride.

Try to avoid the Cheez-Whiz sandwiches.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.]]>