During the pandemic, due to my high risk status, I’ve only been out to an actual destination a couple of times. As summer had descended, I’ve been out for more walks and just sitting outside to enjoy some nice weather, but that’s not every day. I’ve taken a few drives, but really only to nearby Lincoln park for a “drive around” a few times, where I still picture the old pre-flood neighborhood. It has seemed strange to be out and around after being home a lot during a tough weather spring. Last weekend a downtown bar had live music during the afternoon in their parking lot, so I got some snacks and a drink and parked on 3rd street (staying in my truck) to catch a couple of bands, which was surprisingly refreshing.

A couple of nights ago, I spontaneously decided to do venture out a little more on a drive. The weather was perfect around 8 pm- windless, about 80 degrees, the sun just beginning to tuck behind the trees. I started at the park, where there were quite a few disc golfers and people in the dog park- where it almost seemed “normal” for a minute. As I exited the park, I took a right turn out the opposite direction from my house and headed up Almonte Ave to Reeves Drive.
Reeves is like an old friend with its varied homes, many some of the most magnificent and historic in the city residing in the near southside neighborhood.

I felt comforted right away under the tree canopy which is signature to this area of town, seeming like a richer experience than usual. I decided to head north to 5th street and on up to Gateway Drive (U.S. Highway 2) and on over to the medical school, my usual work commute that I hadn’t done in months. Although very familiar, it seemed to take on an increasing different level of detail as I noticed small things I maybe don’t think of when it is all routine on a workday. My mindfulness seemed very enhanced after experiencing little during my self-isolation at home.

I headed back to downtown and banked onto Belmont Road as I re-entered the near southside and decided to ride it all the way several miles to 62nd Avenue South, often thought of as the southern border of the city; the exact opposite end from the medical school on the north. As I drove down the road, it told the story of the city as the neighborhoods unfolded from the 1870’s to the 2020’s, mile after mile. They witnessed post-civil war to early statehood, 2 world wars, the recovery of the 50’s, the turbulence of the 60’s, growth of the 70’s-90’s, serving as touchstones into the 21st century. It’s as if I were listening to a friend relay old stories, with the flood protection dike out my driver side window, insisting on its story, riding along the entire way.

I turned to face the sun across the horizon and the first shades of evening in the big North Dakota sky, pausing to reflect on what’s to come. I’m hopeful we’ll all recover, and the city will live on, holding these stories for future generations.