the gully book

   My family, that is my mother's family and my father's, come from a little tiny town in northwestern Minnesota called Gully. My mom's family help settle the area in the late 1800's, my father's family arrived in the area around the turn of the century. Truly, these were pioneers. They cleared the land, built houses, tilled the soil, planted and raised crops and dairy cattle, and raised families. Big families. When I was a kid, it seemed that I was related to everyone in town. Haugens, Paulsons, Dahls, Ringstads, Soliens, just about everyone was a relative or as Aunt Max would say, a 'shirt tail' relative. This was home for the family. My mom was born there, both of her parents were born there. Her parents were baptized on the same day, in the same holy water, as the story goes. They grew up together, married and started their family there. The aunts and uncles had the farms, and it was on one of these farms where my dad and his dad were working on a threshing crew when my dad met my mom. 

   In May 1979, Grandpa's funeral was there, in December, Grandma's. 5 years later, my Dad's funeral was there, and 5 days later, his dad's. Dad's mom had her funeral there too, in 1975. The cemetery is a regular stop when I visit, as most of the family is now there, dating back to the pioneer days. Relatives who died young, in the influenza outbreak of 1918, World War II, accident, illness, old age. Perhaps someday, a long long time from now, I will be there too, in that quiet place next to the woods and wheat fields. 

   As when I was a kid, my boys loved running around town, exploring the streets, buildings, and meeting people that we may be related to. A quiet little place called Gully.

   So you see, Gully is home to the family, for many reasons. The family has been there for well over 100 years.   Most of the family is scattered across the country now, and the younger ones don't have occasion to visit there very often. But in 2010 a number of us made the trip for a weekend in July to celebrate the Gully Centennial. There was a lot of food, drink, a parade, and plenty of visiting. Everyone had a good time, and it was the event of a lifetime.

And, there was the book.

   A committee was formed, and it was thought a good idea to make a book celebrating Gully, telling the story of many of the families, tons of pictures. Everyone in the family paid $50 apiece for a copy, which we expected to take delivery of sometime in the not too distant future.

   We're still waiting. The trouble is, the book is being produced by volunteers, and clearly it has not been a priority, as we are closing in on year three and still no book. There has been some grumpiness and anxiety about this, and questions about when it will arrive. We have been told we can get our money back. Speaking for myself, I will wait, as I would rather have the book someday than the $50 now, which would only buy me a tank of gas. As long as the gauge is on the quarter mark.

So I hope the book arrives soon. It will be fun to see the pictures, see the story, and to share that with my kids, and grandchildren someday. 

After all, we've been there a long time. There is a lot to tell about this little town, village actually, called Gully.