Wednesday was my 84th birthday. Connie had planned for us to celebrate by attending the Chanhassen Dinner Theatres’ new musical production of Carol King’s “Beautiful.”
But the weather didn’t cooperate, and we found ourselves staying home. That gave me some time to contemplate the long and wonderful life God has given me as well as some scrapes He has gotten me through.
I was born the year our nation found itself involved in World War II. My family moved soon after my birth into a second-floor apartment on West 12th Street in Sioux Falls, SD.
I was too young to remember any of the instances but have often been told I was fortunate to have survived the five years we lived at that address.
My older brother, Robert, would often recall the time he and a friend carried me up a ladder to the top of a flat-roof garage behind the apartment. I’d hardly learned to walk at the time, my brother shared. But walk I did, right off the edge of the roof headfirst to the gravel driveway below.
Sometime later, while in the care my of Uncle Ernie and his fiancée, Billie Graff, I stumbled and fell against sharp corner of an end table in the apartment. The cut was so deep the two of them had to take me to the emergency room. You can still see a half-moon shape indentation the cut left in the center of my forehead.
Then there was the time my grandmother made me a play parachute pack like the ones the airmen wore flying the fighter planes at the local military base. She was creative, and it looked much like the real thing. But it didn’t work like the real thing when I jumped off the upstairs landing of the apartment’s back stairway and broke my collar bone. My mother must have been greatly relieved when we moved at the end of my first-grade year to a house on 18th Street.
My grade-school years were varied and passed quickly, I attended four different Sioux Falls grade schools while living in that house: Emerson, Longfellow, Irving and Lowell. It seemed like I was always the new kid in the class.
In 1954, the spring I graduated from grade school, my mother died, my older brother Robert married and moved to Chicago to attend seminary, and my father and I moved into an apartment. The next four years were empty ones for me with my father gone early in the morning to work and at the Elks Club most nights playing cards. Looking back, I understand now that he was dealing with his own grief.
But those lonely years were also a breakthrough period for me as I landed my first job as a staff announcer at a Sioux Falls radio station. A few months later I spun that into a better position with a station with a much larger audience and stayed there until after I finished high school and moved to Vermillion to attend the University of South Dakota.
I’ve written before about my college years, my switch from broadcast to history as my major and the importance my fraternity played in helping me prepare for my lifetime career in journalism.
The best thing about those years, however, was it was then that I met and fell in love with my wife and best friend, Connie Jeanne Johansen. We married the same year we met, and I can attribute everything I am and have to her being my partner for nearly 63 years. All but one of those years we have lived in Sibley and considered ourselves Iowans.
Connie and I have had more wonderful than tough times during our years together. God blessed us with two loving, talented sons, wonderful daughters-in-law and four delightful grandchildren. Jeff, our oldest son, expertly overseas the publishing company Connie and I started with our Golden Shopper 63 years ago. But God, who both gives and takes away, chose to call our younger son, Jay, to heaven nearly 15 years ago. There are still many days we wonder why and wish Jay were still with us. I miss his daily morning calls from Des Moines that always began with “Hi, Pops, how are you doing today?”
Little did Connie and I imagine 63 years ago the multitude of blessing God would shower upon us over the years.
Although a later entry into the newspaper field, The N’West Iowa REVIEW has given us the opportunity to meet and mingle with national and international industry leaders and take part in numerous conventions across America.
But we find even greater satisfaction in how our son, daughter-in-law Myrna and grandson Sam have carried on and expanded the business.
Plus, it is heartwarming to recognize the role so many have played, working by our side, in growing The REVIEW and today’s Iowa Information Media Group. Denise Rust, Jeff Grant, Scott Byers and Lori Wiersma are some who have worked at our Sheldon office 25 years more or less, who come to mind. If I attempted to name others at our many locations, it would fill the better part of this page.
Connie and my lives have been one of more ups than downs. We’ve had many opportunities to create wonderful, unforgettable memories with immediate and extended families, enjoy leadership roles in our home community of Sibley, tour much of the world and visit most of our country and Canada. We’ve had invitations to preach, teach and be an active part of numerous Christian communities including our beloved First Presbyterian Church in Sibley.
But now, at 84, I’ve learned I have cancer of the pancreas. The good news is the tumor is small and located at the head of the organ and not inside. It has not spread and is considered Stage I.
The bad news I will have to go through six months of chemotherapy and surgery to eliminate what is a small pocket of disease. The doctors tell me the chemotherapy will be strong and aggressive.
I know my situation is not unusual. Over 41 percent of Americans suffer from some type of cancer. Many of you reading this have a much tougher case than I. And I am told it can be met head-on and defeated.
I understand everyone’s reaction to the chemotherapy treatments is different. I begin my first three-day treatment on Monday, April 8. I pray and hope for the best and will attempt to keep you informed of my progress. Meanwhile, I may miss a column or two along the way.
For now, remember Connie’s weekly assurance “God is good!” when she was writing her column. Take care yourself and hug those you love daily.
Peter W. Wagner is the founder/publisher of The N’West Iowa REVIEW. He lives in Sibley and may be reached at .