In “North Dakotans are all in one degree of separation from one another” news, one of the reporters from the Grand Forks Herald was interviewing a woman for a story and the woman gave the reporter a photograph of my grandfather taken in 1965 with “Amanda Kosior” written on the back and asked her to get it to me.  So, she did.

While I’m always happy to receive presents of any kind, I was especially excited about this photo because the story behind it had been told and retold countless times across generations of Silvermans with only a newspaper article (no art) as proof that it actually happened.  Here’s the long and the short of it: my family (the aforementioned Silvermans) used to have a downtown men’s clothing store called…you got it…Silverman’s.  Every year, the businesses in downtown Grand Forks would hold a Crazy Day sale.  The first Crazy Day was in 1965, and to promote it, three businessmen – Sam Silverman of Silverman’s, Curt Olsson of Ruetell’s, and Jim Hetland of Straus – were dropped off a distance from town and had to hitchhike back wearing barrels.  Guess who won?

(PS: I wrote about the barrel stunt, and Silverman’s, in 2020.  You can read it here.)

My Grandpa Sam was very, very proud of his military service – here’s an interesting fact: he was head of the transportation squadron at the end of World War II which provided the vehicles to convey several of the top Nazi war criminals, including Doenitz and Speer – and so, in honor of Veteran’s Day and this photo, I thought I’d tell you a couple of stories about him.

Royal Fork

But first, three matters of fact:

1. I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn when I say Grandpa Sam was locally famous.  He was a long-time business owner with a big personality and a small stature (he was 5’ tall if he were wearing shoes and standing on a phone book), and people knew him everywhere.  This fame caused a few headaches later in his life – I’ll get to that in the next story – but it also meant he pretty much had the run of the town.

• We had a buffet house in Grand Forks called the Royal Fork.  My grandparents (and everyone in town, including me) LOVED Royal Fork.  My grandfather especially liked the roast beef carvery.

• Kyle, my husband, attended the University of North Dakota School of Law.  Sam, my grandpa, attended the University of North Dakota School of Law.  They did not attend at the same time.

In his first year of law school, Kyle met the most beautiful and wonderful woman in December and was engaged to her by April.  As one would expect, upon their engagement, Kyle was introduced to her grandfather.  As Kyle was the sort who liked hanging out with old guys, and as my Grandpa Sam was an old guy, they became buddies.

Kyle was in class at the Law School when one of the administrators opened the door to the lecture hall.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she told the professor, “We have an urgent call for Kyle Kosior in the office.”

Kyle was worried; nothing good comes from urgent calls.  He packed up his backpack and moved quickly to the front of the building.

“It’s Sam,” the secretary said.

Kyle took in a breath.

“He wants to go to lunch,” she said, holding out the phone.

“Hello?”  He said.

“Come pick me up,”  My grandpa said.  “We’re going to Royal Fork.”

They went to Royal Fork.

The Long Drive Home

I was on the dance team in high school.  We practiced after school.  One morning, my mother reminded me to come straight home after practice because my grandparents were coming for dinner.  Since I was 17 and immersed only in my own amazingness, I spent too many extra minutes after practice talking to my friends and prancing around in my workout gear in front of the basketball team before I realized I was late.  Not to worry!  I only lived five or so blocks from the school, so I’d be home in a jiffy.  The fastest I’d ever gotten home from school was four minutes, and the slowest was five.  I would be fine.

I got into my maroon ’88 Ford Tempo and peeled out of the parking garage…and nearly rear-ended the last of a long, long, long, long line of cars going seven miles per hour.

This was a surprise.  It was a surprise because there was typically so little traffic on the road to my house that my sister and I never made more than about 75-cents when we held lemonade stands.  It was a surprise because the speed limit on that road was not seven miles per hour.  It was a surprise that I had been in my car for five minutes and had not yet gone a full block.

It was not a surprise, however, that when I swung my car to the side to see what was going on I found my grandfather’s car at the front of the line.

Remember how I told you Grandpa Sam was locally famous?  Well, Grandpa Sam also should have had his driver’s license revoked once he became unable to see over the steering wheel.  Grandpa Sam did not have his license revoked, though, because no one wanted to be the guy to take away his license (he did, however, finally lose his car in an accident that was inexplicably not of his doing).  So, Grandpa Sam drove.  Or, coasted, to be more accurate.  I’m pretty sure his method of driving was to put the car in neutral and let the wind take him.

Since there was nothing I could do – it’s not like I could pass my grandfather; and, even if I could, we were going to the same place – so for the next nine-hundred hours I put-putted along behind him.  Finally, we reached my house.

“Oh, hello, Mandy!”  My grandma said when I pulled up beside them in the driveway.  “Perfect timing.”

“Yes, quite the coincidence,” I said.

Commendation

My family is Jewish.  As you can guess, North Dakota isn’t exactly packed with my fellow Jews.  As such, North Dakota Jews are good about rolling up their sleeves and doing what needs to keep the band going.  And so, when my grandfather went into the Army and realized there wasn’t anyone to lead Shabbat services, he rolled up his sleeves.  He received an official commendation for it, which read:

27 June 1945.

To: Commanding Officer, 39^th Medical Battalion, APO 103, U.S. Army

Before leaving this headquarters I wish to commend the faithful and devoted services beyond the requirements of duty of an officer of your command, First Lieutenant Sam S. Silverman, 01 546 067, Medical Administrative Corps.

Animated by a fine spirit of zeal for the spiritual welfare of his co-religionists, at the invitation of this office, Lieutenant Silverman has regularly Jewish Sabbath Even services in this headquarters on Friday evenings for more than two months.

He has conducted these services in such a splendid fashion as to attract an ever-increasing number of Jewish personnel to them.

His cheerful willingness to conduct these services without regard to his personal convenience and with no reward beyond the commendation of his conscience, is worthy of the highest praise.

Arthur Carl Piepkorn, Chaplain (Lieutenant Colonel), U.S.A.

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The photo above is the photo above.

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This week on North Dakota Today we talked about Dave Berger, my Nice Person of the Week, as well the Northern Valley Youth Orchestra. (Valley News Live)

Looking to volunteer? AOK (Acts of Kindness) is preparing to put a bow on Santa Saturday. (Facebook)

Now in recovery from testicular cancer, Matt Egan is suiting up for Minot State. (KX Net)

So many beautiful Veterans Day programs, including one in Minot where eight vets were honored with Quilts of Valor. (Minot Daily News)

This is a great story about the difference Miracles for Vets is making for those who served. (CBS News)

The Western North Dakota Honor Flight is revving its engines for its first-ever trip out of Minot. (KFYR TV)

This is my friend’s brother-in-law.  I’m not actually sure if he’s from North Dakota, but she lives in North Dakota (and I’m too lazy to ask her) so we’ll call it close enough. (YouTube)

In North Dakota-adjacent news, NCTC is the #1 college in Minnesota. (Grand Forks Herald)

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