The Old Breed

Chapter 74

St. Paul, Minnesota

October 12th, 1945

It was a beautiful Friday morning when the train pulled into Union Depot, St. Paul. I had watched the sunrise from inside my car, nothing else to do, the sun rising over the distant mountains, painting the sky beautiful reds, yellows, and oranges. We had crossed over, around, and through several mountains earlier in the night, though I had been asleep for most of that.

At one point during the sunrise, we pulled alongside the Mississippi River, where the massive river was coming to its end, the river not very wide here, but the water slightly clearer. I watched where the morning sun seemed to hit at the perfect angle, shining off the river, turning the water a bright yellow and red, illuminated the forests of green pine trees and firs, and the distant snow capped mountains. This was the Minnesota I had grown up in and loved. Truly, when you got out of the big cities, the landscape began to take on the feeling of a postcard, the land extraordinarily beautiful in places.

Before the war, on the weekends, I would drive up north to the mountains located in central Minnesota for skiing, whether as part of my job on Saturdays as as a member of ski patrol or just for fun. Skiing had always held a thrill for me, the feeling of speed and floating on the air unparalleled. Often I would go up earlier in the morning and spend all day there, staying late into the night, when the mountain was bathed in the golden glow of artificial lights, stars twinkling above in the dark sky, the moon high overhead. By this time, most people would be gone, and I could feel as if I was the only one on the mountain, besides the other members of ski patrol. The feeling was indescribable, and I decided it was a must that I go skiing soon.

The train rode alongside the south bank of the Mississippi for a few miles, Minneapolis spreading out along the other bank. Minneapolis was located in one of the lowest areas of Minnesota, along the Mississippi River, the reason the city had become so big. To the north of the city, the elevation began slowly climbing again, into some taller mountains in central Minnesota. To the south, past the Mississippi, the ground slowly rose into more mountains far in the distance. Minneapolis sat alongside St. Paul, the state capitol, the two major cities practically combined, making up the Twin Cities. St. Paul was nearly as big as its neighbor, although less populated. St. Paul was bisected by the Mississippi, which bulged upwards through St. Paul, the downtown area of the city located on the bank of the river above the bulge, along with the capitol. The peninsula created by the bulge was West St. Paul, East St. Paul located above the Mississippi. I lived in East St. Paul, in the neighborhood surrounding most of a big lake named Lake Phalen. The lake was known for its stunning beauty, a little beacon of nature surrounded by civilization. Footpaths around the edge of the lake allowed you to walk and see the most of the lake, and there were canoe docks for entertainment upon the lake. It also had a nice beach section, which we always joked around about. "We're going to the beach!" Ted and I would say, which we thought was the funniest thing since we were in a landlocked state in the middle of North America. Seemed funnier at the time.

Lake Phalen had been the sight of my first kiss with Jen, back in the middle of sophomore year. It had been near Christmas, and that year it had been even colder than usual, dropping to nearly fifteen below, most of the lake freezing over. The city officials tried to keep people from walking or skating on the lake, but they finally gave up, and I took Jen ice skating during the afternoon. Neither of us were very good, but both of us managed to stay on our feet most of the time. We had a lot of laughs when we'd go down though. When the sun had began to set, we got off the lake, sitting at one of the benches along the lake, watching the sunset. It had begun snowing again, but the sky below the sun stayed clear as it dropped. Jen snuggled up to me, her small body cold even though we were both bundled up heavily. Before the sun disappeared, it cast the ice, lake, and sky a brilliant red and yellow, much like the sunrise I witnessed this morning, one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen before. I guess Jen felt the beauty in the moment too, and before either of us knew it, we were kissing, like a scene from a cheesy romance movie Jen had made me watch once. It didn't feel cheesy out here. That's when I first began to realize I truly loved Jen more than anyone else in the world.