August 26, 1926 Weather from the Hill, Olaf Thorvaldsen | Cook County News Herald

The coming weekend will bring temperatures into the 80s in the village before the weather changes as quickly as the turn of a radio dial. Highs will fall into the 60s and even the 50s as August gives way to September. The first day of the new month looks especially wet, with an all-day soaking expected to leave about an inch and a half of rain in town. Cloudy skies, drizzle, and additional rain appear likely for much of the week that follows.

That forecast should keep my substitute occupied with the noon broadcasts while Miss Fjell introduces me to the Minnesota State Fair. I am told Miss Gladys Roy intends to walk upon the wings of an airplane while blindfolded, which seems an unnecessarily complicated way to travel. There will also be circus acts, horse racing, automobile racing, band music, fireworks, and the many attractions of the Midway’s “Pleasure Row.” I suspect all of this may prove somewhat overwhelming to a simple country weatherman, though Miss Fjell assures me I shall survive it.

In local affairs, our Grand Marais ball club suffered a twelve-to-two defeat at the hands of Two Harbors on our home grounds last weekend. I have searched the weather records and can find nothing that satisfactorily explains the score.

Word also reached the News Herald offices of a coal mine fire in Pennsylvania that has now been burning for sixty-seven years. It continues without anyone, as the report puts it, “shaking down the ashes or monkeying with the drafts.” A fire capable of tending itself for nearly seven decades is an accomplishment I hope never to see repeated here.

Sadly, fire did visit Grand Marais last Friday when the Trading Post burned. Three large streams of water were turned upon the blaze and the adjoining Hicks building, and fortunately the flames were confined to the Trading Post. The log structure burned fiercely. C. J. Johnson, its owner, remarked afterward that he felt like a shoemaker without shoes. For many of us, the loss is more than that of a building. It was a place where the town gathered, danced, ate, talked, and passed many winter evenings together.

A week can apparently contain anticipation of the State Fair, a twelve-to-two ball game, and the loss of the Trading Post without asking our permission as to the order. William Blake once wrote:

Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine

It seems especially true this week. We cannot choose which thread arrives first, but somehow a community must keep weaving with both.

Editor's Note: The photo is the Trading Post from around 1908. From the Cook County Historical Society.