My best friend, Raemi, and her boyfriend, Chris, came to Grand Forks for a visit this past weekend.  Raemi and I met on our first day at Boston University; we were suitemates in Shelton Hall, a brick hotel-turned-residence hall which was located near a row of brownstones behind Boston’s famous Citgo sign and in swearing distance (especially during Yankees games) from Fenway.  Most of the freshmen at BU lived in one of the monolithic first-year dorms, but we escaped that chaotic fate with placement on the Writer’s Floor at Shelton.  Raemi was put on the Writer’s Floor because she was an English Lit major.  I was put on the Writer’s Floor because I think they took one look at me in my baby pink polo and Gap khakis and thought, “This little North Dakotan ain’t gonna survive the mean streets of Warren Towers.”  This really worked out for me in two ways: one, I got Raemi, and two, I only had to share a bathroom with five girls instead of fifty.

Chris, who was neither an English Lit major nor a girl from North Dakota, also lived on the Writer’s Floor.

Raemi and I lived in this beautiful historic dorm, with its views of the Charles River and 24/7 cafeteria and maintenance services, for two years before we decided we JUST HAD to move somewhere, like, WAY, WAY BETTER and got ourselves a dump of an apartment on a slum of a street in the neighboring town of Allston.  Allston was the locale-of-choice for most of BU’s coddled students who found it exciting to experience a lifestyle so far beyond the life of leisure we had ever seen before.  Also, there was a liquor store and pizzeria on every corner, and that was, like, 95% of our shopping – so, you know, convenience.

Chris also moved to Allston, to a house everyone called Highgate because it was located on a street called Highgate.  While Raemi’s and my apartment was pretty sucky – we could reach through our dilapidated kitchen window and pinch the butt of our bathing neighbor through their own dilapidated bathroom window – it was nothing compared to the dumpster fire that was Highgate.

And, speaking of fires, I’m going to tell you about one of the two house fires that occurred during a party at Highgate.

[As an aside, I emailed Raemi while I was writing this and asked, “Was the blood thing before or during the basement fire?”  It was before.  One of Chris’s roommates was in the basement trying to recreate a scene from the movie Roadhouse and smashed a bottle on a table.  Since he was not Patrick Swayze, the bottle smash was a failure and he cut his hand.  He walked up the stairs to – who knows, pretend like it never happened – and, in doing so, wiped his hand along the wall the entire way up and through the kitchen.  A few minutes later, another roommate, Seth, discovered the blood trail and followed it down to the basement, where he found the remains of the bottle and NOT the aforementioned fire.]

Highgate was not the worst house on the block.  It was the second.  Based on the ample size of the kitchen and front porch, it was obviously a big, beautiful home at some point in the 1930s or 40s.  By the time Chris got to it, it could have served as the set for a gritty movie about a Massachusetts gang member who wants to follow his childhood sweetheart to Ohio but needs the money and protection for his drug-addicted mother.

Chris came to Highgate the way all of the roommates came to Highgate: he knew someone who lived there and took their room when they moved out.  As a result of this piecemealed room swap, most of the housemates were strangers to their fellow roomies when they moved in.  And how many housemates are we talking about?  Well, I don’t know; but I can tell you that the government’s understanding of the official capacity of that house and the actual capacity of that house were not aligned.  There was a guy whose bed was in the porch, for example.  There was a bunk bed in the closet.  What happens when a bunch of college dudes who don’t know each other overload an unmanaged, untended house?  Highgate happens.

And what happens when Highgate happens?  Parties happen.  Since there wasn’t one single friend group represented at Highgate, whenever one of the housemates wanted to have a party, they had a party – meaning that there was a party happening virtually all the time.

It was at one of those parties that the bathroom started on fire.  I was sitting in one of the main floor bedrooms with five of my fellow party goers – I think someone was living in the living room at the time – doing something wholesome like knitting stocking caps for babies, when one of the housemates leaned into the room and said,

“Is Seth in here?  The bathroom’s on fire.”

Seth, who was in there, set down his Natty Light, sighed, and left to see what was what.  For my part, and for the part of the other people in the room, we continued on with our knitting.  After a while, I grew tired of knitting and decided to find Raemi and see if she wanted to go to volunteer at the animal shelter or similar.  I walked through the kitchen – or, at least, I tried to walk through the kitchen because a couple of firefighters were in my way.

I peered around.  The kitchen bathroom was fully gutted, and still very much smoking, from a fire.  It was not ON fire, however, presumably thanks to Seth – who was standing there looking annoyed, holding a fire extinguisher.

Since the house wasn’t actively on fire, and since Raemi wasn’t in the kitchen, and since I didn’t really feel like I could offer any assistance in this matter, I went upstairs to Chris’s room.

“There was a fire in the downstairs bathroom,” I told Raemi and Chris.

“What kind of a fire?”  Chris asked.

“I don’t really know,” I said, sitting down.

It turned out to be an electrical fire.  The basement fire, which my memory tells me was before the bathroom fire, was also an electrical fire.  Seth put that fire out, as well, and the Boston Fire Department made him an honorary fireman.  Highgate ultimately burned to the ground after a DIFFERENT fire, but I don’t know the cause because Chris had long moved out and I was too busy knitting stocking caps at Raemi’s and my new apartment to be bothered with it.  

And now we’re all grownups, and Raemi actually DOES knit stocking caps for babies, and Chris told me last weekend that Seth works in finance or taxes or something like that, so his firefighting days, like the nonsenses at Highgate, are over.

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We took Raemi and Chris to the Grand Forks County Fair. I put up a video about it on TikTok. Here’s a photo.

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This week on North Dakota Today we talked about Rick Oleck, my Nice Person of the Week, as well as an upcoming comic book convention that is helping out the Santa Claus Girls. (Valley News Live)

As you know, we had a derecho this past weekend in North Dakota.  While the lives lost is definitely NOT nice, the number of people who immediately jumped in to help is wonderful.  I’m actually hoping to feature a few of the helpers on ND Today.  I have a gazillion social media screenshots from Saturday morning, but if you know of someone who you think should be highlighted, please send them my way. (Fargo Forum)

Check out the photo of Riverdale’s Lonnie Liebel holding the new state record-holding whitefish he caught. (Grand Forks Herald)

Cavalier’s Elian Martinez was sent off in style with a 100 semitrailer salute. (Fargo Forum)

The University of North Dakota’s 2025 Frozen Force all-women pilot team has returned with a first-place trophy in the Air Race Classic. (Grand Forks Herald)

And, finally, in YOU ARE NICE News: Wow, you guys really liked my story last week about Professional Emailers.  I really appreciate all of the emails and shares – thank you!!

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