This is where it started: my first visit to the first community: Rugby, North Dakota, January, 2003. Why does one go to Rugby in January, you ask? If you want to see what a town is made of, you have to see it in the tough season, as well as the sweet, and January in Rugby is the tough season. I arrived a few minutes late to interview Richard Lavik, who'd been a school superintendent in several places in North Dakota from very shortly after he graduated from college until he retired two years ago. "In North Dakota you can retire when your age and years of service total 85," Lavik told me. "You can stay longer but your retirement benefits don't get noticeably better. Teachers pensions aren't the best pensions in the world." I'd been told Lavik has "a dry sense of humor." After spending four hours talking with him, I'd say instead that he has a sly sense of humor. "This is my Norwegian grandfather," Lavik said just as straight-faced and sincere as you can imagine. What he'd handed me was a very old photo of an Indian, dark as the earth, holding his pony at attention, a dog in the background. "That might be your grandfather," I said, "but he's not Norwegian." On the back of the photo it said in pencil: "Running Rabbit." I got three hours of conversation with Lavik on tape. He is especially knowledgeable about the history of the schools and churches in Rugby and throughout Pierce County. His real Norwegian grandfather came to Rugby about 1919 and started the Rugby Tailoring Company. His father ran a dry-cleaning business on Main Street, where Lavik helped out as he was growing up. "We dumped our spent chemicals in the alley back of the building," Lavik said. "The alley was dirt, not paved. You didn't think anything about it back then. You couldn't get away with that these days." To be continued....
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