I'm out of town tonight and missing the "Dunham Family." Ethan talked to me on the phone tonight and wondered when I would be home to "change clothes" and play. He doesn't quite have a concept of time yet. Anything in the past (Labor Day at Aunt Laurie's for example) is "last night." Anything in the future is "morrow," but I'm not sure he understands it. When he asked where I am, he seemed to understand "far, far away," yet he said he would wait for me though I told him I'd be home in two days. He's only 3 years old (this picture is from his birthday party), and sometimes we forget how limited his world and experience really is. He seems so adult at times yet his unique interpretation of time and distance is a reminder that he's still learning.
The massive wave of Norwegian immigration to Minnesota from the 1850s through the early 20th century wasn't a casual choice; it was an escape from crushing land scarcity and economic desperation. My ancestors, the Dunhams, arrived in 1851 and built a life in Otter Tail County in Minnesota. My great-great-grandfather, Jens Christian Dunham, didn’t just survive—he thrived. He served in the Minnesota legislature as a Republican from 1888 to 1890 and later became a staunch advocate for President Teddy Roosevelt. He was the literal embodiment of the American Dream: an immigrant who fled poverty to become a lawmaker in his new home. Fast forward a century, and a new wave of immigrants—this time from Somalia—is following that exact same blueprint. Like the Norwegians before them, they fled hardship to build a future in Minnesota, and many have run for office to serve the state that welcomed them. Yet, the political rhetoric surrounding these two groups couldn't be more polarized. Don...
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