Today, at Super One Foods in Lakeside, there was an older guy wearing a Marines cap, so I asked him where he served. He said sixty years ago on this day in Korea, December of ’51, they had been in their bunker, which was warmed by an oil stove. Someone mistakenly threw gas on it, and everything went up in a blaze, his Christmas presents under his cot, his camera, some guys died. Another “even got a silver heart.” Probably for running back into the fire to save people.

So when I walk by these modest, quiet homes, and wonder who lives there, I’ll know many of them are old-time Duluthians who served their country in wars people easily forgot. And while I may be angered by the hypocrisy, failure of diplomacy, fear or greed that may cause them, I am equally amazed and humbled by the courage and selflessness of those who serve. Sometimes they just want their stories to be heard.

Last summer I was digging post holes in my yard near 47th Avenue East and Superior Street and was finding, about a foot down, a two-inch band of mysterious ashen charcoal material everywhere I dug.

I doubt many geologists are trolling on PDD, but I wondered if this could’ve been from the great fire of 1918, or if anyone else has discovered a similar oddity? It must take longer than 90 years to accrue over twelve inches of clay.

There was a documentary on the fire recently which mentioned the local neighborhoods affected, mostly to the west. Prehistoric shoreline fire? Site of ancient burning ritual? I guess it would be interesting to know if anyone has evidence of the fire near their dwelling anyway.