Terry Willis Completes 1K Mile March At George Floyd Memorial - One Man, Two Feet!

Terry Willis completed his one thousand mile walk from his hometown of Huntsville, Alabama to the site of George Floyd's murder by police at 38th and Chicago in Minneapolis yesterday afternoon, and was met by throngs of supporters who had followed him along his arduous journey.

After some delays due to weather and body recovery, Willis joined a waiting group at the Mall of America in Bloomington. Marchers held signs and wore t-shirts (and almost every respectful citizen was wearing a mask!) in support and cheered Willis on for the last seven miles of his trek to gain awareness for change, justice, and equality.

As there had been threats to Willis along the way, the organizers never gave out his exact location, so it was a bit of sleuthing to find out where they would exactly be to join the march if you hadn't been at MOA on time (like me). I was driving back from getting our morning coffee when I saw people sitting on the curbs of 12th Avenue in Richfield, and a police presence at my old middle school on 70th and 12th.

I raced home to get my brother and we raced back just in time to join Willis for his march through Richfield. I was so proud to be standing up for social justice and systemic change in my hometown, marching down 12th and up 66th to Portland, with supportive honks from backed up cars and shouts of solidarity from the people lining the streets. There's an old spirit chant that went "We're from Richfield, couldn't be prouder, if you can't hear us, we'll yell a little louder!" - and that's what it felt like marching alongside this inspirational man whose story I'd been following since his walk began on June 2nd in Alabama. (This feeling would go away in the evening - read to the end).

"Say his name!" "GEORGE FLOYD!" and "One Man! TWO FEET!" were a couple of the chants along the way, and the day could not have been more beautiful for a walk for social justice. Willis kept an amazingly fast pace going, for a man who had been walking across the entire country. Also impressive was the way he was so concerned about everyone else. He darted around in the crowd, asking if people had water, giving hugs to people that got emotional in his embrace, as they could feel the gravity of what he had endeavored to do, and now he was real and in their arms. Pretty powerful stuff.

When the group turned toward Minneapolis, Paul and I raced back to our car, went home and grabbed our Mom, and took her to do a drive-by farewell to the Pastor of her church, Nokomis Heights Lutheran, who was having a last day picnic there at 53rd and 10th. We drove by and waved our good wishes, and then saw that the Willis march was going by two blocks away at Chicago Avenue!

We cheered them on for a couple of blocks, (and were a little surprised to see a guy open-carrying a machine gun, but then there had been credible threats, so ... sigh. This world.) then drove to 38th and Chicago to the George Floyd Memorial where Willis was to finish his long journey.

The intersection was packed with people, so we tried to stay on the outskirts because of Mom and the pandemic, and people were very respectful about giving she and her wheelchair the space she needed. The grills were cranked up with long lines for the free fare, and the usual angels were there passing out bottles of water on this hot day. The flowers had been refreshed after the storm the night before, and it was once again a beautiful scene of respect and community coming together as one in the name of equality and justice. That's just honestly what it feels like every time you're there, and I hope all Twin Cities residents have been by now. It's something else.

It didn't take long until we saw the glimmer and heard the din in the distance of the Willis march approaching. More and more people poured into the streets as the march passed into the intersection, and more than a few tears were shed when Willis finally approached the very spot where George Floyd had been so ruthlessly killed by monsters meant to protect us. Out of breath somewhat himself, the moment held a whole lot of weight when Willis was now at the destination that had been his focus. Cheers erupted, and then went silent as a trumpeter climbed up above everyone and played "Lift Every Voice And Sing", and another emotional memory was made.

Families stood together, friends stood side by side, mothers pushed their children in strollers, we pushed our Mom in her wheelchair, and everyone there knelt together as one with fists raised in silence as Terry Willis knelt as long as he could after such a long and hard physical feat. More cheers filled the blue skies then, as Willis took the mic to address the crowd ...

Speaking to how he was just a regular guy, not a celebrity (though he was certainly treated like one, deservedly), and he just saw something terrible that he was compelled to do something about, so he set out as one man, two feet and walked for change. Any one of us could do the same, and any one of us can do SOMETHING in our own lives to effect change. My own nearly 80 year old (birthday next week!) Mom is right now in the living room reading "How To Be An Anti-Racist" - THAT is something to effect change, because then she'll talk about it with her 80+ year old posse, and they begin to think differently, and that HELPS.

Once Willis thanked the crowd, he was eager to get home to his own family and his own bed, and the intersection at 38th and Chicago turned once again into the street party that it has been on most days since George Floyd lost his life there. We now know that this time WILL be different, and that systemic change is ACTUALLY in the works. You can feel it.

My family left to get Mom home as we are a bit leery about having her out in the mix at this stage of nobody knowing what's up with this pandemic, but we were all so happy to have been there together to see this historic and triumphant feat completed by Mr. Willis, and once again by surrounded by so much good will and positivity for a better world. We were buzzing about it all day after, and I thought I'd share the Richfield part on the "I Grew Up In Richfield" Facebook page so people could see how cool it had been in our hometown that day. I was certainly not prepared for the bigotry and vitriol that followed, and I'm still reeling from it. "That's BS!" "George Floyd was a thief!" "This kind of thing doesn't belong on this page!" were some of the awful comments in reaction to a short video of their community members marching along with a man who had just completed a huge, triumphant personal victory that was also global news. And now their backwards behavior will now also be a part of this global story. Willis had people cheering him on via his Facebook and Instagram feeds from around the world ... but Richfield, Minnesota residents didn't want to hear about it on their community page. UNREAL. I'm crushed. I've been back here taking care of my Mom for a year now, and I know I've been living in the Venice, California bubble for a long time, but I never thought there would be such racism in my now very diverse hometown. THEN I see that my post had been taken down, due to so many complaints about a Black man marching through Richfield for social justice. I'm disgusted, and of course, will no longer have my name associated with that intolerant page. The Administrator woman didn't bother to send me a message, but she sent Paul one for his post that said it was for people who grew up in Richfield, not politics. Well, guess what, lady? People are STILL growing up in Richfield, and it's sad that the one they're growing up in is like this, especially when old, white Spartans are hardly in the majority in town anymore.

I don't want to end on a negative note to what was such a positive and beautiful day, so I'll just say to every complainer on the Richfield page - I hope you can manage to GROW, because your way of thinking is past its expiration date. To Terry Willis and all of his supporters - WOW! POWERFUL! What a feat! CONGRATULATIONS! LOVE! SOLIDARITY! UNITY! We WILL make the change this country so clearly, so desperately needs. We have to.

ONE LOVE, EVERYBODY! Even you, old, white Spartans. May you join us in 2020 someday.

Clogtown: Sofia Of Heredia, Richfield's Sister City!

I was walking to the Richfield Farmer's Market last weekend, and decided to cut through what we kids used to call Memorial Park (with the water slide that cut up half of Richfield), and is now called Heredia Park. It's the little park behind the Richfield Cop Shop/City Hall, and I had no idea when its name as changed - or why.

Then I saw a bronze statue of a little immigrant girl soccer player called Sofia. The only piece of public art in the park and it's of a child from another country making their way in Richfield. I was delighted, surprised, and honestly, a bit relieved - that Richfield holds such reverence for our immigrant neighbors, and chose to celebrate them in this lovely way.

The work is accompanied by a poem from Guillermo Hernandez , also the sculptor, from what I learned is Richfield's sister/peace city, Heredia, Costa Rica - since 1991! They even have a "Boulevard Richfield" in that town! I had no idea. But I'm super proud of my hometown, recognizing that we are a country of immigrants, and it is something to be celebrated. Excellent.

Pura Vida Sofia!

Clogtown - The Richfield Sidewalk Poetry Celebration

What a beautiful morning we shared together in Richfield this past Saturday. The Richfield Arts Commission and Crossroads Panorama put on a celebration to honor the poets and poems that won the Sidewalk Poetry contest this year - and I was one of them! I hadn't planned on being in town to be able to attend, but then my Mom went into the hospital, and I'm still here ... so we made it the goal to be Mom's first outing after having her leg amputated two weeks before.

The day was already emotional for sure, because of all Mom has been through, and just having her be able to be there with me was already making me cry. I mentioned to the poet, Emily Gold, seated on the new Bandshell stage beside me that I was not sure how I was going to do reading my poem looking at my Mom sitting there in the front row in her wheelchair. Then, she told me that she was struggling also, as her poem was about her eight year old daughter who had passed away only two months ago. Whoa. The strength she had to do that ... was humbling and inspiring. There was a performance by the young ladies from the Crossroads Panorama theater group, and then it was time for the poetry reading. Space on the sidewalk limits the lines and characters you could use, so mercifully, the poems were all short as we listened under the blazing hot sun. Gold read her beautiful tribute to her daughter, Lizzie, right before me, so after crying over her poem, I had to get up and cry about my own - but we did it, and I felt so happy to look out and see Mom there, smiling away.

All of the poems were wonderful, and all of them exemplified how we feel about our hometown of Richfield - it's special. The one by Bo Mitchell about HIS Mom (who died five years ago) fully wrecked me, and warmed my (already boiling hot) heart that a man would be so vulnerable in sharing about what his Mother meant to THEIR Richfield family.

It was incredibly moving. It was also SO hot out, however, that tears could easily be mistaken for sweat. I pointed out before reading my poem that I live in Venice, where poetry is historically very celebrated. There are poetry walls at the beach. The Free Venice Beachhead paper's motto is "This paper is a poem." But I never really felt poetry was any big deal here when I was growing up in Richfield, so I was happy to see so many people out at 9:00 a.m. on a hot Saturday morning in celebration of poems!

The wonderful new Mayor of Richfield, Maria Regan Gonzalez, was there - in fact, she rode her bike there. Awesome. We took a photo together with Mom, and you can tell how happy we all are in the celebration of both beautiful poems, and the triumph of the human spirit that allowed Mom to be there. The poems this time will be installed in the sidewalks along 66th street - I'm hoping mine goes in by the Richfield Pool (as is mentioned in my poem as a kind of bribe). My first one is on Portland in front of the Fire Station and City Hall, and I told the crowd gathered that I'm going for a hat trick next year (as the celebration was adjacent to the Ice Arena). It's pretty cool to have something I wrote actually be set in stone/concrete.

Thank you to Richfield, for this delightful honor, and to everyone who cares about poems!

*Group Poet photo by Thomas Eder

Minnesota ... Always In My Heart

Home ... every time I return home to Minnesota, it's a re-boot for my soul, and a literal breath of fresh air. Going home this time was not just about fun, though ... it was about family and friends, and a loss that will be felt for always.

The patriarch of the Hendrickson family, Larry, passed away on June 15th, and I was going home to say goodbye, and celebrate an extraordinary life with my lifelong friends.

What began as very, very sad turned into one of the best funerals I've ever been to - maybe THE best. From the minister at the church opening the service by saying, "We'll begin with the hymn, 'We all hail from Richfield High'!" (our school's fight song), the ice was broken and we felt free to laugh and to truly make it a celebration of life. Darby and Danny Hendrickson gave fantastic eulogies that cracked everyone up, and the entire affair felt like an All-Richfield class reunion.

The reception at the Richfield American Legion turned into an all out stag dance, the kind that Hendrickson's company, Spirit Unlimited, used to spin for. We were all there until 2 am, and then it still kept going ... on through the next day at the Hendrickson "Richfield Pool". What a sendoff for what a guy! I'll never forget it, and though it is a massive loss, it was also wonderfully special to all be together, in the name of love.

Minnesota really shows off in the Summer, and this trip was an embarrassment of stately riches. I've had an obsession for seeing our state flower, the Pink Showy Ladyslipper, in the wild, as I never have. Nor has anyone I know. So, my Mom and I jumped in the car and took off on a whirlwind road trip to go hunt for this elusive state symbol. With major success!

The Ladyslipper Scenic Byway near Cass Lake and the Leech Lake Indian Reservation (we listened to Pow Wow radio the whole trip!) is called that, but there really aren't that many blooms ... like I almost crashed the car in excitement when I saw the first one!

I got choked up, even. What a flower! It was so satisfying to look for something, and then to actually find it. Mom had never seen one either, so it was extra special to share it with her.

During our search, we even saw the start of the Mississippi River up near Itasca, MN ... and that felt special too. It begins as a little trickle, so narrow you can nearly step across it, and as it winds down south becomes the monster of a river that ends in Louisiana. Nature is awesome.

We couldn't linger over the Ladyslippers, however, as we had a five hour drive to the place I'd booked us to stay - without consulting a map. But WOW, was it ever worth it! The Naniboujou Lodge in Grand Marais, MN (20 miles from the Canadian border - like I thought about defecting) is something else. We arrived too late to get a look at it in daylight (even with the sun not setting until around 10 pm!), with the door left open and a key in an envelope for us - because Minnesotans are nice.

A great sleep with the sound of Lake Superior waves lapping against the shore outside our window and a fireplace in the room gave us the energy to go mega-sightseeing the next morning, and the sights began with the spectacular dining room of the Naniboujou!

Painted with Cree symbols. the ceiling was so gorgeous that I would find this place if they had told me it was in Egypt or somewhere ... but it was in Minnesota! After a wonderful breakfast, Mom and I set out to see as many state parks as we could before we had to get my rental car back in the city before 6 pm! And we did it!

Morning rain made for spectacular waterfalls, and the fresh scent of pine and lake was abundant in the air.

Just breathing felt like therapy, and I find myself daydreaming about it all again today. Wow.

The next day was the 4th of July, and I got to attend my hometown parade for like the first time since I was in it back in the day. Though much smaller now days, we all sat out in the rain and cheered for the current Richfield Spartans, and swelled up with pride of place. Go Big Red!

I am constantly running when I'm home, trying to get all the things in that I feel like I'm missing out on when I'm away. Seeing friends, their kids growing up, the latest restaurants and bars, and getting as much time to commune with the beautiful Minnesota nature as I possibly can.

The Cities are also abundant with nature, with all of the lakes, and my beloved Woodlake Nature Center.

Everyone is so happy for it to be hot out and Summertime, that the paths around the lakes are full of people day and night. It's awesome.

I was there for the Basilica Block Party this year, and it was so fun to get down once again with The Revolution - even without Prince. Other highlights were The John Butler Trio, Fitz & The Tantrums, and Jason Isbell on the big stage in front of the Minneapolis skyline, just as the sun was setting. Minneapolis is the best.

No trip home in the Summer is complete without an excursion aboard the Croixation Sensation, my bff Christine's (Larry's daughter) family boat. After a Croatian victory in the World Cup game (watched at Treasure Island Casino!), we celebrated by taking the dinghy out at night on the now Mighty Mississippi to a bar on the Wisconsin side, the Nauti Hawg.

The annual locust plague of May Flies was on this day, and was extra disgusting - and kind of fascinating. The stars outnumbered the flies though, so the boat ride remains a happy memory. The sun set on my trip home, and saved its best colors for last.

I love home so much, and am always torn, because I also love Venice so much. I'm back West today, with memories for a lifetime, and the renewed strength of heart and character that I always get from visiting my roots - both the people and the place. I'm a better person for having - and loving - both.

Thank you, wonderful Minnesota. I carry you in my heart every day.

Freedom On The Fourth!

 *I'm gone fishing/on vacation but ... Happy 4th of July, wherever you are!

Independence Day  ... but I haven't been feeling very patriotic this year ... I mean, UGH, things are bad now in this country. Embarrassing bad. But I'm in my hometown, hit the Fourth of July parade (in the rain!), and once again felt the love for the people and traditions that are the real things that ever made this country cool in the first place. I like to listen to "Freedom" from Richie Havens every Independence Day - because that really is what this place is supposed to be about ...

... plus the whole "Liberty and Justice for all" thing. What we were founded on (by immigrant invaders, if we're honest). One of the most heart warming things about today's parade was when a little yellow Volkswagon Bug (with both Mexican and American flags decorating it) drove by honking, and got an even bigger reception than any of the bands or politicians or floats. Just like when everyone stayed even when the rain, thunder, and lightning started ... because we realize we're all in it together.

Let's remember what we're about ... and act accordingly.

Happy 4th!

AND Happy 113th Birthday, dear Venice!

See you soon. x

In Loving Memory Of Larry Hendrickson - He Changed Lives

* My best friends in the world lost their father yesterday morning, and the world lost a heck of a guy. After the initial tears dried, friends and family gathered at the Hendrickson home in Richfield to comfort each other, and celebrate together an extremely special life, lived and left on Larry Hendrickson's own terms. I felt so far away, yet still included in their family, like they have always made me feel. It was my great honor to be asked to write Larry's obituary ... but I couldn't stop writing and expressing all that can be said about this man, so it got pretty long. We decided to make it an article here instead, so we would not be constrained by column space on the obit page. Wonderful matriarch Jane helped me get the facts straight, but there is still so much that could be said. Following is an attempt to give a glimpse into who Larry Hendrickson was - and there will never be another like him. My heartfelt love and sympathy to my deeply loved friends, The Hendricksons. We will never stop  honoring and celebrating your awesome Dad. Thank you for sharing him with the rest of the world. See you soon, Friends ...

Minnesota has lost one of its greats. Husband, Father, Grandfather, Coach, Philanthropist, and Hendrickson Foundation founder, Larry Hendrickson, passed away from a rare heart condition called Amyloidosis on Friday, June 15th in his longtime Richfield home, both fully at peace, well loved, and surrounded by family and friends.  
 

Hendrickson was born on October 20, 1942 in Minneapolis to Joseph and Lorraine Hendrickson. He played all the sports, of course, but was also well known for his unique character and strong faith. He met his junior high school sweetheart, Jane Hagen, at Ramsey Middle School, but didn't make his move until they were both attending Washburn High School. After graduating college at the University of Minnesota and a obtaining a Masters degree from St. Thomas, they married and settled in Richfield. Hendrickson was also one of Richfield High School's cherished teachers and coaches. 

Larry and Jane raised four fantastic children (Christine, Darby, Danny, and Julie), and in addition to the kids, some very special dogs.  "The Richfield Pool" in their backyard served as home away from home to Spartans of all ages, and was often where you could find "Coach Hendy" in more recent years, enjoying a Captain Coke, Lynchburg Lemonade or an icy Coors Light, and sharing inspirational conversations about hockey, hunting, and fishing, while hanging out with his beloved dogs.  

The "Hendrickson" name is synonymous with "Hockey" in Minnesota, and Hendrickson's career illustrated this fact. He coached varsity hockey at Richfield, where they played in the state title game in 1976 (and we're still sore that they lost to Grand Rapids).  Hendrickson helped his good friend, Herb Brooks, prepare the "Miracle On Ice" Olympic team for their gold medal victory in 1980, and served as the strength coach for the Minnesota Gophers in 1985, and the professional Minnesota North Stars from 1986-1988.  As Head Coach at Apple Valley, he led the team to a state championships in both 1981 and 1996 to win a title with a record 5 OT semi-final game that remains revered in Minnesota sports lore as the best high school hockey game ever. He also coached at Benilde-St. Margaret in more recent years, as they transitioned from Class A to AA hockey. Hendrickson was inducted into the Minnesota High School Coaches Hall of Fame in 2010. 

All of Hendrickson's children went on to play hockey ... Christine and Julie play (because Minnesota is a state where the Hockey Moms PLAY hockey), and Darby and Danny both played at Richfield and as Minnesota Gophers. Darby went on to play professionally, even scoring the first goal for the Minnesota Wild, and now serving them as an Assistant Coach. Larry was so proud of all of his children, who live their lives with all the important values instilled in them by these excellent parents. He was also a father figure to many, sharing his guidance and wisdom generously with anyone who needed it. That it's Father's Day weekend that Larry left us is both appropriate and special. 

The Hendrickson's are a very public family, and have always been a the more the merrier type of clan. Their house was always been full of kids and animals and fun, but some of their most special and treasured memories as a family took place privately, as a family, at the cabin on Island Lake in Duluth. It was a refuge and a sanctuary, where deep conversations and quality time together was spent, and those are the times they hold most dear. 

Strength is a word that anyone who ever met Hendrickson would instantly associate with him. "Strength Coach" was even his title at times in his career. Many muscles were built in Hendrickson's home gym, but none more than the heart. It is ironic that his own heart failed him, when he had instilled such strength in the hearts and minds of so many. His equally strong faith is what sustained him through his final months, and as he said, "Don't worry about me ... it's just a change of address." He lived a full - and fulfilling - life, and passed away when he was ready, surrounded by his loving family. That's the way to go.  

Hendrickson also founded the D.J. company, Spirit Unlimited, to support his family while he served in Young Life. Spirit Unlimited was an apt name for the fun they brought to all the Richfield High School dances and countless other events. There was a reunion of Spirit Unlimited crew this past holiday season, and everyone in attendance told stories of how Hendrickson had employed them, guided them, and inspired them. Helped them. How he set an example for them that they all still live by. How he changed their lives.  

The Hendrickson Foundation's motto is "Hockey Changes Lives", and one only has to look around at their annual hockey festival to know how very true this statement is. Conceived in 2011, with his dear friend Mike McMillan's encouragement, Hendrickson set out with the idea as a means to encourage and inspire those with disabilities and special needs through getting them out on skates or sleds to play hockey. No one could leave one of their events without being inspired, including themselves. Lives have truly been changed for the much better through the Hendrickson Foundation - for having known Hendrickson, his family, and being a part of their exceptional organization. 

 

Hendrickson was also a great and inspirational speaker, who always put philanthropy and serving others above personal glory. A recent Christmas speech ended with the following words to live by ...

 

"I've been having a lot of thoughts ... and what I realized is what an incredible amount of blessings that  I have personally had - and that I married up. Look, nobody's perfect, life isn't always easy, but out of that comes a value system. It makes you ask, 'What do we believe in?' And I've come to the conclusion that my wife, my children, and their spouses ... we believe in others. When the good Lord gives you a blessing, and you can share it with someone who has had a curveball in life, you are a very fortunate person. What you give gives you more joy than what you have. The blessing we have is knowing that we need each other."

The entire Hendrickson family and vast extended family of friends takes comfort in knowing that our lives are full of blessings, that we need each other, and that we have each other. 

Larry Hendrickson was preceded in death by his parents,  his sisters, Joanne and Susan, and Brother in law, Rick Hagen. He is survived by his beloved wife, Jane ("Nonnie"), daughter Christine Krsnik (husband Renato, daughters Jane and Kate), son Darby (wife Dana, sons Mason, Beckett, Rennick, daughter Addison), son Danny (wife Megan, daughters Grace and Lily, son Robbie), daughter Julie Oss (husband Dave, sons Leo, Nolan, Brody), brother in law Jim Hagen (Debbie) & Steve Johnson, sister in law Kathy McGovern, nieces, nephews, cousins, friends worldwide, and this man's best friend hounds, Nikki, Darby, Burlin, Herbie, Burly, Bruno and Brutus (1, 2).

 

A Memorial service and celebration of Larry's life will take place  at 4 p.m. Thursday, June 28th 2018 at Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in Minneapolis, with Reception to follow. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the Hendrickson Foundation, which son Danny carries on proudly in Larry's honor.

Rest in loving Peace, Coach Hendy. You'll be forever missed.

*Photos Courtsesy of The Hendrickson Family