Author Archives: Mary Turck

No, not the holes in the highways–those can be filled and good riddance to them, though I know they will come again every spring. The potholes we need to preserve are the prairie potholes, those sloughs and swampy mini-lakes that dot the countryside, growing cattails and providing homes for ducks and egrets and herons.

Photo by Pete Baer, licensed by Creative Commons.

Tom Meersman has a good article in the Strib about prairie potholes. He describes the way that millions of these humble wetland areas across Minnesota and the Dakotas absorb rainwater and run-off, thereby slowing sedimentation of rivers, preventing soil erosion and purifying water. For years, farmers have been paid to keep these potholes alive. No more.

Farmers in the area signed 10- to 15-year conservation agreements in the 1990s to set aside grasslands and prairie potholes for wildlife habitat, he said, but many are converting the land back to crops as soon as those contracts expire.

Between the expiration of the conservation easements and the rising prices of land, farmers are finding it tough to justify keeping any land out of production. While corn prices were high this past winter, that’s not enough to make up for decades of uncertain pricing. Moreover, high corn prices drive land prices higher. Higher land prices mean higher property taxes, since the taxes are based on the land’s market value. Farmers have to produce saleable crops in order to keep the land.

Habitat for wildlife, clean water, saving the land for future generations — priceless. But property taxes, mortgage payments, fuel for tractors and, yes, feeding the family — these all come with hefty price tags. And some farmers will be draining and plowing the potholes to pay the price.

I’ve read, researched and written extensively on Rock-Tenn, the paper recycling plant, and plans for its energy future. I spent more hours this weekend editing articles about Rock-Tenn, and more hours continuing to read the e-mails that flow back and forth along the Rock-Tenn Community Advisory Panel listserv.

Last year, the questions and answers about Rock-Tenn seemed a lot simpler. The plant was losing its steam line because Xcel was closing the coal-powered High Bridge plant. Rock-Tenn’s alternatives were to burn fuel oil and natural gas in its existing but long-unused boilers or to build a new power plant that would use a less expensive fuel. With the support of the City of St. Paul, Ramsey County and the St. Paul Port Authority, Rock-Tenn planned to build a plant to burn refuse derived fuel (RDF).

Most people living near the plant found it easy to oppose burning RDF. RDF is processed garbage (municipal solid waste.) There are many good reasons to oppose RDF. Concerns include potential health effects from emissions and tax subsidies required for processing RDF. Opponents point to the inefficiency of RDF as a fuel. Critics also say that focusing on incineration means de-emphasizing strategies for reducing and recycling waste.

As public consensus against RDF grew, the questions about power for Rock-Tenn multiplied and got more complex:

1. What kinds of fuels are available and economical?

2. What kinds of fuels are unhealthy and what kinds are safer?

3. What is the impact of various fuels on global warming?

4. What is the right size for a Rock-Tenn power plant? Should it just produce enough heat for Rock-Tenn’s manufacturing process or should it also produce enough energy for a district heating and cooling system in the immediate area?

5. Would a district heating and cooling system significantly reduce overall emissions by eliminating individual, inefficient HVAC systems?

Ramsey and Washington County governments like RDF. They should — they keep agreeing to pay millions of tax dollars to the Newport processing plant to convert municipal solid waste into RDF. Subsidies have to flow to garbage haulers to pay higher tipping fees at the Newport plant. More subsidies go to Xcel Energy to induce them to take the processed RDF from the Newport plant and burn it (in Red Wing), because RDF is an inefficient fuel.

Early in the debate, it looked like the environmentally-friendly answer was that the plant should burn “real” biomass. (The legislature classified RDF as biomass, but most people don’t buy that designation.) “Real” biomass might be corn cobs and stalks or oat hulls or wood and wood waste or prairie grass. Today, many involved in the debate are denouncing any kind of burning and insisting that no kind of biomass is good fuel.

RDF clearly has enormous problems — economic, environmental and political. The quickest way to move the process forward is by unequivocally taking RDF off the table. The Port Authority, District Energy and Rock-Tenn need to renounce the use of RDF. So far, they have refused to do so.

Even if RDF were taken off the table, the next question is right-sizing the energy operation. The debate started with Rock-Tenn’s need for steam. A plant large enough to provide steam for peak operations needs also would produce surplus heat and energy. That opens the door to a new level of energy politics.

Xcel Energy (privately owned, for-profit company) wants exclusive rights to purchase any excess energy generated at Rock-Tenn. They almost got the legislature to sign on to this deal last year. Any time a seller (in this case, Rock-Tenn) has just one buyer, that buyer can set the price. Being the sole eligible buyer of Rock-Tenn’s surplus energy would put Xcel in a good position to bolster its bottom line and increase its profits.

The St. Paul Port Authority (quasi-governmental, non-profit municipal corporation) wants a district heating and cooling system, like the one that District Energy operates in downtown St. Paul. The Port Authority distributed a propaganda piece called “The Energy Independent” in several neighborhood newspapers in early November, saying that a district heating system will be built in the area.

That raises a political problem. The Rock-Tenn Community Advisory Panel has not made any recommendation on a district heating and cooling operation. Now it seems that the Port Authority has made a decision to proceed regardless of what the panel recommends. What does that say about the whole process of citizen input and, when you come right down to it, about participatory democracy?

A district heating and cooling system would mean building — at Rock-Tenn — a plant that is significantly larger than needed just to supply Rock-Tenn with steam. Within the panel, and within the community, there is significant opposition to building such a plant.

Facts and figures are missing. What area would the Port Authority plan cover? What are the current and projected heating and cooling needs of that area? Who lives there? What businesses operate there? How are they now heated, and what kind of air emissions do they now generate?

Until that information is on the table, no one can know whether a district heating and cooling plant, located at Rock-Tenn, would increase or decrease air polution.

A whole set of related questions come back to the fuel issue. What kind of fuel would be used? Where would the fuel come from? How would it be transported to the plant? What is fuel availability for the smallest-size plant– one that would be adequate to generate steam for Rock-Tenn and nothing more? What is fuel availability for the district energy option? What are the comparative costs for various fuels? What kinds of environmental impact (both on air quality and on global warming) does each fuel have?

These questions are complex and require a fair degree of research by people with technical backgrounds. One step, however, is simple: taking RDF off the table would help everyone to focus.

On November 8, NPR aired the story of a waitress who talked to Hilary Clinton on the campaign trail.

“Anita Esterday, a waitress at the Maid-Rite in Toledo, Iowa, told NPR’s David Greene in a report that aired on Morning Edition Thursday that “nobody got left a tip” on Oct. 8, when Clinton sat at the lunch counter and ordered up the restaurant’s famous loose-meat sandwich.”

The tip, or non-tip, was part of an eight-minute story on the campaign, but it quickly became the focus of bloggers across the country. The Clinton campaign responded quickly, insisting that a $100 tip had been left at the diner. The controversy continued, with another report on November 9 analyzing who had or had not been tipped and who had said what about tips. Perhaps the most interesting part for reporters and editors was a small piece of the November 9 report that dealt with the way the story was reported. [Transcribed from NPR media player. Full clip is 4:19. This interchange runs 3:23-3:52. Emphasis added.]

Renee Montagne: David, would some of this have been avoided if you had taken it to the campaign beforehand, especially about the tip, I mean, wouldn’t that be a pretty basic thing to do?

David Greene: Yeah, I .. I .. since Anita Esterday had said on our air that nobody got tipped that day, which is different from saying that just she did not get tipped, she said that no one was tipped. I should have asked the campaign before the story aired if they could say if anyone was tipped and how exactly that happened. That would have made the tip, I think, a lot more of the focus of our story than I had intended, but it’s clear I should have gotten their reaction up front. That’s the way it’s done.

Renee Montagne: David, thanks.

David Greene: Thanks, Renee.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16143435
Clinton Campaign Says It Tipped Maid-Rite Waitress

by Renee Montagne and David Greene

Morning Edition, November 9, 2007 · A waitress causes a stir on the political blogs. The waitress at a Maid-Rite restaurant in Iowa says she did not get a tip after serving presidential hopeful Sen. Hillary Clinton, a Democrat from New York. But the Clinton campaign says a $100 tip was left at the diner.
Election 2008

Editor’s Note: The Tale of the Tip

NPR.org, November 8, 2007 · It started as an aside in a longer interview, but it became an Internet sensation within hours. [for full story, click here.]

Did you read about the Finnish musicians who were harassed, detained, intimidated and generally mistreated by U.S. immigration/homeland security agents at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport? Rich Broderick broke the story in the Twin Cities Daily Planet.

This is a prime example of citizen journalism. Broderick spoke directly to the people who were involved. He wrote the story and, since it included a heavy dose of his opinion about the way that immigration and homeland security function, the story ran as a blog, not in the news columns.

Some people questioned the accuracy of the report. They seemed to feel that the story was suspect, because they had not seen it in the mainstream media. In fact, the story finally was published in the Star Tribune more than two weeks later.

Broderick’s report shows how citizen journalism works and why it is important.

Citizen journalism works because individual people have information to share, and believe their information is important. In this case, Broderick heard about a newsworthy event. He spoke directly to the people who were involved and investigated the story. His account linked the individual incident to broader concerns about civil liberties in the post-9/11 “security” regime.

Without Broderick’s reporting (and without a Daily Planet to publish the story), this incident may never have been known outside the small circle of those immediately involved and their friends and families. The mainstream media has relatively few reporters. All of us walking around in our communities, talking to our neighbors, listening to musicians at Tillie’s Bean, talking to workers at the Hard Rock Café, snapping photos of the new Midtown Greenway bridge – all of us together have more information about our communities than a few reporters can gather. To put it another way, all of us together are better-informed than any one of us.

One reason that citizen journalism is important is that citizens use it to report important news. That’s part of the reason the Daily Planet exists.

A second reason is that the mainstream media listens, at least some of the time. Journalists look for news. Many of them read the Twin Cities Daily Planet and other citizen journalism sites.

I am glad they do. I want them to pick up our stories and, with their far greater resources and audience, take those stories to the world.

I feel rich tonight, though I don’t have a dollar more than I did before I sat down at my computer. I feel rich because there’s a new issue of Minnesota Women’s Press and a new issue of the Park Bugle and they both have wonderful writing that brings comfort and challenge and humor.

Want to read about hummingbirds, flashing like jewels in the Andes and in a St. Paul yard? Or about the meaning of home, and two people who open their very different homes to a late October home tour? Check out the Park Bugle, which will also tell you about horses at the U of M’s farm campus.

For intensely personal articles about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, a fantastic book group opportunity to read about women and war with Toni McNaron and Susan Cygnet, and a refugee woman making Minnesota her home, read Minnesota Women’s Press.

And if reading doesn’t make you rich, it may make you feel that way.

Bush visited Anbar Province this week, in a photo op that his handlers insisted was not. Now newspapers are reporting that Anbar demonstrates a modicum of success for the “surge.” One problem with that analysis: the surge was not aimed at Anbar. The surge was supposed to make Baghdad safe. Here’s what Bush had to say on January 10:

So I’ve committed more than 20,000 additional American troops to Iraq. The vast majority of them — five brigades — will be deployed to Baghdad. These troops will work alongside Iraqi units and be embedded in their formations. Our troops will have a well-defined mission: to help Iraqis clear and secure neighborhoods, to help them protect the local population, and to help ensure that the Iraqi forces left behind are capable of providing the security that Baghdad needs. …

The Prime Minister understands this. Here is what he told his people just last week: “The Baghdad security plan will not provide a safe haven for any outlaws, regardless of [their] sectarian or political affiliation.”

Not Anbar province — Baghdad. Eight months later, Baghdad remains mired in violence.

The big bridge breaks in half, falls in the Mississippi. The skies open over southern Minnesota, sweeping houses away as people cling to the roof, opening a road to swallow cars. We come together to respond, to give aid, to console the bereaved and one another.

And yet. Every day small tragedies play out. A teenage boy is thrown out of his home by his parents, again. An elderly mind drifts deeper into the fog of Alzheimer’s. A young father/brother/son dies in Iraq, Afghanistan, Colombia.

The big disasters are safer. The bridge and the flood are contained, defined. Such disasters happen only once in a long while. By focusing on the big ones, we can pretend that disasters do not lurk in daily life.

The kids on the bus call Jeremy Hernández a hero. He calls them his little brothers and sisters.

When the I-35W bridge collapsed into the Mississippi River, people around the world watched the orange school bus that fell with the bridge. That bus was filled with 50 kids and eight young staff members from Waite House, along with the bus driver and her two children, all returning from a field trip to the Bunker Hills water park.

On the orange bus on Wednesday evening, kids kept asking Monica Segura, “Are we almost there? Monica, Monica, are we almost there yet?” She tried to distract them, leading them in a song about elephants. She remembers checking her watch at about 6 p.m., thinking that they were running late and parents would soon be calling Waite House to see where their children were.

When they got to the bridge, Monica remembers, kids got up out of their seats to look at it, pointing at the river. She told them to sit down—every counselor knows you have to keep the kids in their seats on the bus. Then she saw a semi truck swerving, and the bridge went down, “like in the Power Tower at Valley Fair when it just lets you go.”

“I grabbed the two kids I was with to keep them from hitting their heads,” Monica recalled. “All we saw was all this dust—no heads, nothing. We were quiet a minute until Jeremy got up and jumped over the seats and opened the door—that’s when we all reacted.”

The kids call 20-year-old Jeremy Hernández a hero. He was asleep when the bus got to the bridge, worn out after getting up early and then spending a long day in the water park with the kids from Waite House. One of the kids woke him up when they reached the bridge, and the next thing he heard was a big bang. “I thought we were in a car accident,” Jeremy said. “The bus crashed down … then it crashed again and it stopped. You could hear the kids moaning and crying and you couldn’t see them because of the dust.”

Jeremy reacted instantly, diving for the back door and then superintending a speedy evacuation of children, staff and bus driver. “I just remember grabbing and putting them down, grabbing and putting them down, handing kids to the guys who came to help.” Jeremy didn’t leave until everyone was off the bus, and then he checked around the bus to make sure that no one was lingering near it.

“They’re like my little brothers and little sisters,” Jeremy said at a press conference on Thursday. “I’ve been working here for five years. It’s like they are a part of me.”

Monica agrees. “Our youth program is like a big family. We are really close with the kids and their parents. We love every single kid.”

On Thursday, a reporter at the press conference asked whether the very young staff had been trained for the emergency. “We never had a training like this before,” Monica replied, “because who would imagine ‘Oh, what if the bridge falls off?’ But we do have training in first aid and to get the kids to safety.”

She described what happened after the kids were off the bus, but panicking and crying and afraid the bus would explode. “We gathered all the kids up. Once I got them all in one section, I told them to line up – there’s air conditioning and water and I’ll buy you guys something to eat. All the staff helped with all the kids. My co-worker was the one who made the whole list to see if all the kids were there.”

“We always knew where all the kids were at.”

The young staff come from the Waite House neighborhood. “I came here when I was a kid,” said Monica. “I volunteered, and I’ve been working here for five years.”

Waite House is in the Phillips neighborhood of Minneapolis. U.S. census figures from 2000 showed a median household income of $21,353 in Phillips, compared to a citywide average of $37,974. Some 31.9 percent of Phillips families lived in poverty, compared to 11.9 percent for the city as a whole. Unemployment was more than twice the city average.

Tragedies shine a light on heroes. After the cameras and national press move on, the hard work of daily, dedicated service will continue.

The fifty younger kids and their older “brothers and sisters” are at Waite House every day. Every day, the staff—including the teenage staff—encourages, prods and praises the younger children into learning lessons in discipline and leadership, into practicing cooperation and fair play, into an appreciation of education. Youth program participants earn points by reading books and by community service, and those points earn field trips and recognition.

“Our workers grew up here,” says John Richard, head of adult education programs at Waite House. “They are the slum kids everybody says are the problem. Some are from immigrant families. It was their coolheadedness and clear thinking that saved the day. If this isn’t an example that inner city kids can be part of the solution, not the problem, I don’t know what is.”

The focus of Waite House’s youth programs, director Francisco Segovia says, is leadership development for youth. At Thursday’s press conference, Segovia and Pillsbury United Communities executive director Tony Wagner stepped back out of the spotlight and let their young leaders shine.

The kids on the school bus need our help. Jeremy Hernández—named a hero by the “little brothers and sisters” he guided to safety—had to drop out of Dunwoody College last year because he didn’t have enough money for tuition. Julia—the youth director at Waite House—is still in the hospital with a broken back and two broken feet and more than 150 stitches in her arm. Many of the younger kids on the bus lack medical insurance.

We can all help. Donations for scholarships and medical care can be made over the phone by calling toll free 888-642-3040 or by mail to the Pillsbury United Communities, Development Office, 1201 37th Avenue North, Minneapolis, MN 55412. Please specify the Waite House Bridge Disaster Fund when mailing in donations. You can also donate through the Pillsbury United Communities web page and can designate that your donation go to Waite House.

If you go to the website, take a look at the descriptions of Waite House and Pillsbury’s other community centers. They are doing everyday, grassroots work in our communities with families and kids who need a helping hand. Monica Segura of Waite House said it well: “Our youth program is like a big family. We are really close with the kids and their parents. We love every single kid.”

The family needs help. Let’s give them a hand.

When the I-35W bridge collapsed into the Mississippi River, people around the world watched the orange school bus that fell with the bridge. That bus was filled with 50 kids and eight young staff members from Waite House, along with the bus driver and her two children, all returning from a field trip to the Bunker Hills water park.

On the orange bus on Wednesday evening, kids kept asking Monica Segura, “Are we almost there? Monica, Monica, are we almost there yet?” She tried to distract them, leading them in a song about elephants. She remembers checking her watch at about 6 p.m., thinking that they were running late and parents would soon be calling Waite House to see where their children were.

When they got to the bridge, Monica remembers, kids got up out of their seats to look at it, pointing at the river. She told them to sit down—every counselor knows you have to keep the kids in their seats on the bus. Then she saw a semi truck swerving, and the bridge went down, “like in the Power Tower at Valley Fair when it just lets you go.”

“I grabbed the two kids I was with to keep them from hitting their heads,” Monica recalled. “All we saw was all this dust—no heads, nothing. We were quiet a minute until Jeremy got up and jumped over the seats and opened the door—that’s when we all reacted.”

The kids call 20-year-old Jeremy Hernández a hero. He was asleep when the bus got to the bridge, worn out after getting up early and then spending a long day in the water park with the kids from Waite House. One of the kids woke him up when they reached the bridge, and the next thing he heard was a big bang. “I thought we were in a car accident,” Jeremy said. “The bus crashed down … then it crashed again and it stopped. You could hear the kids moaning and crying and you couldn’t see them because of the dust.”

Jeremy reacted instantly, diving for the back door and then superintending a speedy evacuation of children, staff and bus driver. “I just remember grabbing and putting them down, grabbing and putting them down, handing kids to the guys who came to help.” Jeremy didn’t leave until everyone was off the bus, and then he checked around the bus to make sure that no one was lingering near it.

“They’re like my little brothers and little sisters,” Jeremy said at a press conference on Thursday. “I’ve been working here for five years. It’s like they are a part of me.”

Monica agrees. “Our youth program is like a big familiy, we are really close with the kids and their parents.  We love every single kid.”

On Thursday, a reporter at the press conference asked whether the very young staff had been trained for the emergency. “We never had a training like this before,” Monica replied, “because who would imagine ‘Oh, what if the bridge falls off?’ But we do have training in first aid and to get the kids to safety.”

She described what happened after the kids were off the bus, but panicking and crying and afraid the bus would explode. “We gathered all the kids up. Once I got them all in one section, I told them to line up – there’s air conditioning and water and I’ll buy you guys something to eat. All the staff helped with all the kids. My co-worker was the one who made the whole list to see if all the kids were there.”

“We always knew where all the kids were at.”

The young staff come from the Waite House neighborhood. “I came here when I was a kid,” said Monica. “I volunteered, and I’ve been working here for five years.”

Waite House is in the Phillips neighborhood of Minneapolis. U.S. census figures from 2000 showed a median household income of $21,353 in Phillips, compared to a citywide average of $37,974. Some 31.9 percent of Phillips families lived in poverty, compared to 11.9 percent for the city as a whole. Unemployment was more than twice the city average.

Tragedies shine a light on heroes. After the cameras and national press move on, the hard work of daily, dedicated service will continue.

The fifty younger kids and their older “brothers and sisters” are at Waite House every day. Every day, the staff—including the teenage staff—encourages, prods and praises the younger children into learning lessons in discipline and leadership, into practicing cooperation and fair play, into an appreciation of education. Youth program participants earn points by reading books and by community service, and those points earn field trips and recognition.

“Our workers grew up here,” says John Richard, head of adult education programs at Waite House. “They are the slum kids everybody says are the problem. Some are from immigrant families. It was their coolheadedness and clear thinking that saved the day. If this isn’t an example that inner city kids can be part of the solution, not the problem, I don’t know what is.”

The focus of Waite House’s youth programs, director Francisco Segovia says, is leadership development for youth. At Thursday’s press conference, Segovia and Pillsbury United Communities executive director Tony Wagner stepped back out of the spotlight and let their young leaders shine.