The Great Sand Fracas of Ames County (8 page)

M
arilyn walked into the community room at the Link Lake Library with her head high and confidence in her step. “I have good news for you,” she said as she called the regular monthly meeting of the Link Lake Economic Development Council to order. “It's been a long struggle to bring jobs to Link Lake and put our community on a stronger economic footing,” Marilyn continued. She paused for a moment. She wanted the full impact of her words to be heard by the small collection of businesspeople, large-scale farmers, and other interested people in the community who were in attendance. For the last several years, the only words the council members had heard over and over were “We're open for business”—to the point that some businesspeople simply didn't attend anymore.

“Mayor Jessup and I have had extended conversations with the Alstage Sand Mining Company of La Crosse,” Marilyn said, speaking slowly and loudly enough so all could hear.

“Yesterday I heard from Emerson Evans, vice president of the company. Alstage engineers found a sizable seam of high-quality sand right here in Link Lake that will prove profitable to us, bring jobs to our community, bring much-needed money to the village's coffers, and, I must say, put Link Lake on the map.”

Emily Higgins quickly raised her hand.

“Why haven't we heard about this mining company before? Where are they planning to locate their mine? When? And is a mine what Link Lake needs? I've heard sand mining can be rather hard on the environment and there are potential health hazards as well,” she blurted out in rapid-fire fashion.

“Well, Emily,” Marilyn began, trying to avoid showing her disgust with the questions, “the reason you or no one else has heard about this is because the mayor and I just learned yesterday that the mine is a real possibility for our community. We didn't want to talk about it until we knew for sure that they were interested. Now we know they are.”

“And what about where and when?”

“Those answers will have to wait a bit—until we negotiate a bit more with the Alstage people.”

“When will we know?” asked Emily, her face a little redder than it was before.”

“Soon, Emily. Soon. Be a little patient, okay?”

Emily sat down, but from the look on her face, she was clearly not happy with what she was hearing, or how Marilyn Jones had responded to her inquiries. Most members of the development council knew the long, difficult history between Emily Higgins and Marilyn Jones. Each had quite different ideas of where Link Lake ought to be headed and how it should arrive there. Nearly twenty-five years separated the two women—Emily was born in 1930, Marilyn, in 1954. Emily remembered when Marilyn was a little girl helping out her folks at the supper club that they had opened when they moved from Chicago. Emily considered Marilyn a spoiled, mouthy brat when she was a little kid—and had never changed her opinion of the businesswoman who earned a handsome living from the supper club that she now owned. And Marilyn considered Emily an old woman lost in the past and a troublesome menace to any forward-looking ideas the community might explore.

Marilyn had tipped off Billy Baxter of the
Ames County Argus
that he might want to attend the meeting, as the council had some important news to share with the community. Baxter raised his hand next.

“I hate to share my ignorance,” he began, “but I don't know much about sand mining. About all I know is that ‘fracking sand' has become quite a valuable commodity. By the way, I use the word ‘fracking' advisedly as with only a slight slip of the tongue another rather popular F word slips out.”

Baxter's last comment evoked a chuckle from the group, which for the most part was nearly completely humorless.

“I do have some information that the Alstage Sand Mining Company has shared with the mayor and me,” Marilyn replied. “Are you interested in hearing some of it?”

“I'm all ears,” said Baxter, as he flipped open his notebook.

Marilyn turned, retrieved her briefcase, and extracted several sheets of paper. She glanced through the notes and then began.

“This special sand is used for a process called hydraulic fracturing, which is a way of releasing natural gas from shale deposits. The process is not new—it goes back to the late 1940s.” She looked up before continuing. Council members as well as Billy Baxter appeared to want more information.

“The fracking process, as it is called,” she said with just a hint of a smile on her face, “has recently been used in eastern states such as New York and Pennsylvania as well as in North Dakota, Colorado, and Wyoming. The process uses enormous amounts of a special sand that we have in Wisconsin and have right here in Link Lake. Sand mines are flourishing in La Crosse, Barron, Chippewa, and Monroe counties. And talk about jobs: a sand mining operation near Tomah employs forty-three workers earning $18.00 an hour.” Marilyn put her notes back in her briefcase.

“The Alstage Sand Mining Company operation here in Link Lake has the potential for being larger than the one in Tomah. We could have as many as seventy-five new jobs coming to our community,” she said.

Council members were looking at each other and nodding their heads in approval.

Marilyn summarized, “After several years of misfired attempts of bringing economic development and jobs to Link Lake, it appears our community is on course for a brighter future.”

A round of applause greeted the comment. Emily Higgins was not clapping. Lucas Drake held up his hand. “Yes, Lucas,” Marilyn said as she recognized her longtime supporter and friend.

Drake stood up. “I want to personally commend you and Mayor Jessup for your interest in the future of the Link Lake community and especially for promoting the community's economic health. Nothing is more important to a community than its economic health—said more plainly, lots of jobs. Everything else must take a backseat. History, environmental concerns, historic preservation—all are of lesser importance. Without a strong economy we have nothing.”

Members of the Economic Development Council clapped as Lucas Drake sat back down. Emily Higgins shook her head in silent disagreement.

12

A
mbrose Adler sat on his porch with Ranger and Buster, thinking about what might have been. He remembered that summer day when he stopped at the library after making his purchases at the Link Lake Mercantile. He noticed a new assistant librarian working behind the checkout desk. At first he didn't recognize her, but then he realized that it was Gloria Jones, daughter of the owners of the Link Lake Supper Club. He remembered Gloria as a skinny, rather unattractive girl, whom he had seen on occasion when he came to Link Lake. A few years ago, he'd read in the
Argus
about Gloria graduating from Link Lake High School and then attending the University of Wisconsin in Madison with majors in journalism and English.

Gloria, now twenty-one and newly graduated, had just been hired to work at the library. She had grown up to be a beauty, at least in the eyes of thirty-two-year-old Ambrose Adler.

“How are you, Ambrose?” Gloria asked when he approached the desk to check out a couple books. Like everyone else in Link Lake, she knew Ambrose by sight, if for no other reason than he was the only person who traveled to town with a team of horses to do his shopping.

“I . . . I . . . am okay,” said Ambrose, his face red both from his efforts to speak clearly and because he was overwhelmed by this beautiful young woman standing in front of him, with her short black hair, slightly turned-up nose, and the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Do you do a lot of reading?” Gloria asked.

“I . . . I . . . do,” said Ambrose, trying his best to speak but finding it even more difficult than usual.

In the weeks that followed, when Ambrose came to town, sometimes with a few sacks of corn and oats to be ground at the mill for their few milk cows or to pick up some supplies at the mercantile, he spent an increasing amount of time at the library, talking with Gloria. One sunny spring day Gloria asked Ambrose if he would like to share lunch with her. She had packed extra sandwiches with the hope that they might eat together.

“I . . . I'd like that,” said Ambrose, who had discovered that when he was with Gloria, he stuttered far less than usual. At a picnic table under a big maple tree that shaded the library, Ambrose and Gloria shared ham sandwiches, dill pickles, and apple pie. Ambrose could not recall when he had ever been happier—he had been rejected and shunned by nearly everyone except his parents, yet he was now in the company of the most beautiful young woman in Link Lake.

A week later, when Ambrose stopped at the library, Gloria asked him if he'd like to see a movie at the outdoor movie theater in Willow River. “
The Sound of Music
is playing, with Julie Andrews,” she said.

“Y . . . yes,” Ambrose stammered. “But I don't have a car.”

Gloria laughed. “I know that. But I've got one, and I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday night. Would that be okay?”

“It would,” said Ambrose, smiling. He had never gone to a movie with a girl before and had never been to an outdoor theater. Promptly at seven on Saturday, Gloria pulled into the driveway at the Adler farm, where Ambrose was standing on the porch waiting for her arrival. He wore his best pants and shirt.

“You look nice,” Gloria said when Ambrose climbed into her car.

“So do you. Nice car,” Ambrose said.

“Got it as a present from my parents when I graduated from college. It's a 1965 Ford. Do you know about cars, Ambrose?”

“N . . . no, we never had a car.”

When they arrived at the drive-in movie, Gloria pulled up to the ticket booth, bought two tickets, then drove her car in a parking place pointed out to her by the parking attendant. She removed the little speaker from the post near her parking place and hung it on the edge of the car window.

“Well, we're all set,” said Gloria, sitting back in her seat.

“B . . . big screen,” said Ambrose as he looked up at the expanse of white fifty yards or so in front of them that was attached to a metal framework.

“You want some popcorn?” Gloria asked.

“Sure, but let me pay,” said Ambrose as he dug in his pocket for some money.

Soon Gloria and Ambrose were eating popcorn and listening to “The hills are alive with the sound of music.” Ambrose glanced at the car parked next to them and he saw a young couple that was clearly more interested in each other than in what was happening on the screen. He glanced at the car in the other direction and he noted the same thing, a young couple with their arms around each other, kissing. Then he felt Gloria's hand on his neck; it was warm and oh so pleasant. Gloria slowly moved her arm around his neck and then she was kissing him. It was the most wonderful feeling Ambrose had ever experienced. It was more wonderful than watching the most beautiful sunset, more wonderful then hearing the rain drumming on a barn roof in July, more wonderful than the smell of newly mown hay, more wonderful than anything he had ever experienced.

Driving home from the movie, they talked little. Gloria drove with one hand the entire way, her other hand on Ambrose's. When they arrived at the Adler farm, she pulled in the driveway, turned off the car's engine, and once more kissed him. Never before had he had feelings like this. How much he wished he could speak better so he could express himself.

“Thank you so much,” he said when he got out of the car. He watched as Gloria backed out of the driveway and headed back toward Link Lake.

Gloria and Ambrose's courtship continued throughout that summer and into the fall of 1966. The young couple saw several more movies at the outdoor theater in Willow River, spent time swimming in Link Lake, and even went fishing once, something that Ambrose had done many times before with his father. Gloria had a small apartment, where she regularly cooked meals for Ambrose and entertained him on Saturday nights and often on Sunday afternoons when the library was closed and there was no farm work to command Ambrose's attention. One Saturday night, during a terrific rain and windstorm that knocked down trees and shut down the power in Link Lake for several hours, Gloria said it was too dangerous to drive back to the Adler farm and that Ambrose should spend the night at her apartment. Ambrose agreed and said he would sleep on the couch, but she insisted that he share her bed, which he did.

The following Sunday, Gloria fixed a special dinner for Ambrose. Gloria said she would drive out and pick up Ambrose, but he said he enjoyed the walk into town. When he arrived at her apartment and they were both enjoying a before-dinner glass of wine, Ambrose said, “I . . . have something to ask you.”

“Yes, Ambrose?” Gloria replied, not knowing what his question would be.

“W . . . will you marry me?”

From his pocket, Ambrose retrieved a diamond ring. He held it up for Gloria to see.