I spent the day in Winnipeg, Manitoba on Saturday, it’s about 135 miles from where I live in North Dakota. Months ago, we got tickets for the Black Keys concert at the MTS center, which was the original intent of the trip. My son noticed that the new Canadian Human Rights museum had opened recently, so we made some time for that during the afternoon. Dalton is particularly interested in this topic for a variety of reasons, so we decided to check it out.

From the get-go, it’s apparent that this is a very special place (see pic)-the first new museum in Canada since 1967. Designed by Antoine Predock, the architecture informs the experience perhaps more than any building I’ve ever been in. Although only 5 of the 11 galleries were open now in this the very early days of this museum, the message is very clear. The many perspectives of human rights are here and most notably, their violation; going from the dark of the lower levels to the progressively lit (by mostly natural light) upper levels and ultimately the 100 meter tall viewing tower. Stories are shared through multi-media means, including music, art, film, and sound. We’re at an area called The Forks- the junction of the Assiniboine and Red Rivers- and it has been a gathering place for people for thousands of years. It’s fitting that the museum is located in this space, and even more so when learning that the dig for the site prior to construction yielded tens of thousands of artifacts, including a bronze cast footprint thought to be 4000 years old which is built into the lobby.

I didn’t want to go to the viewing tower, which is actually the penultimate area of the building on the tour; considering the stories of bravery and heroism of human experience I’d been hearing for 90 minutes, I thought I should at least try it. It was a rare warm, clear, beautiful October day in the city, and the 360 degree view bathed in the autumn sunlight was very freeing. Sharing the experience with my son and the tour group forged an unexpected bond; as I looked down at the river, it was clear we were carrying on an ancient tradition at this confluence. Gazing over the city itself with its bridges, streets and traffic, the minor league ballpark, the train station, and warehouse districts I couldn’t help but feel tied to the ritual of this meeting place. We paused in the contemplation garden as the last stop of the tour before we made our way to dinner, where we talked about the experience we’d just shared before making our way to the show.

There is a moment in every concert where the lights come up and a flash of energy is suddenly common to everyone in the hall; smiling, dancing, embracing. We’re gathering today in celebration of our human experience not far from the ancient rendezvous, where the drums sounded and voices lifted. Rock On, friends. We’ll meet again.