... her name was Dara.
Dara was one of the thousands who every morning would crowd the elevators on their way to work at Capella Towers in downtown Minneapolis Minnesota. I also was one of those thousands. It would be quite easy to be one of the anonymous thousands headed to their cubicles on whatever floor they were assigned. It was hard for me to be anonymous however..guess a black dreadlock carrying a cup of Caribou Coffee or if I was feeling rich a cup of organic Peace Coffee would be easy to pick out in the largely vanilla spaces of Downtown Minneapolis.
I was a temp worker doing phone work on assignment. It was an assignment I thought was only to last 6 months or so but ended up stretching out to 2 years. Capella was the most sterile work environment I had experienced from the time I moved from Denver to Minneapolis in 1988. My Minneapolis work experiences included time at places such as Minnesota Public Radio. Greenpeace and my favorite the worker run worker owned vegetarian restaurant the New Riverside Cafe otherwise known as the ''Biomagnetic Center of the Universe" located in Minneapolis's West Bank neighborhood, one of Bob Dylan's old haunts and a neighborhood that was one of the last countercultural holdouts. In work environments such as those, it was easy for me to connect with kindred spirits and many co workers became close friends outside of work.
The one exciting moment at Capella came on the day Prince died. Workers were talking to each other outside of our cubicles and seeing as Capella was only blocks from First Avenue where Purple Rain was filmed there was talk of other co workers making a trek to First Ave, however there were no co workers to be seen when I made my homage. If I was going to make any connections from Capella it was going to be then.
Shortly afterwards two events occurring seemingly simultaneously was going to end the possibilities of new friends from work. One it was announced that the work assignment I was on was indeed coming to an end and Two my girlfriend of four years and I had just split up. We had been living together. As personal events were unfolding my daughter Rose announced her intentions to return to Colorado and in doing so expressed her wishes that I return also. Rose now was married and was with two children. With young grandchildren to see, no job and now no permanent housing her offer seemed worth considering, At the same time my ties to Minneapolis are longstanding. While my ties to Denver stem back to 1980 I have bounced back between Denver and Minneapolis a few times beginning in 1988. My stays in Minneapolis however have been for longer periods of time. Given the seemingly ever changing Denver scene each Denver experience has been a new adventure. While change is constant no matter where one goes every Minneapolis return has been marked with a sense of merely picking up where I left off.
With ties tearing me in both directions I took a third route. I was going to give myself 3 months to find new work in Minneapolis. Finding work meant I'll stay Not finding work and I'll be on my way to Denver. One month went by..two months passed. Went on what I thought were promising interviews but nothing happened. By the time the third month came I was getting nowhere so it was off to Colorado, staying at first with a friend in the Metro area but eventually settling in Fountain Colorado with Rose her husband and the grandkids.
Besides work another arena where I made connections in Minnesota was in politics. In 2000 I was a candidate for one of Minnesota's US Senate seats. I was a candidate on the Grassroots Party ticket. The Grassroots Party was founded for to promote and its primary issue was the legalization of marijuana. I received over 21,000 votes more than any other third party. candidate. Not having big money to run my campaign I had to make the most of my appearances on Minnesota Public Television, Minnesota Public Radio and to as many music festivals as I could attend. Another tool of the campaign was the use of chat rooms and the formation of online groups. My group wasnt very large by political standards 40 or so people but it was a lively group that in different forms remained long after my campaign was over. We'd discuss topics such as Minnesota politics of course, Minnesota weed as to be expected as well as the subject that brings every Minnesotan together..the weather The weather is always on the mind of a Minnesotan whether it's -20 with two feet of snow on the ground or 90 degrees in the summer..hot,humid and seemingly every bug able to survive in a northern climate. One of the regular contributors was a couple.. Sherald and Dara. Sometimes they'd make comments as a couple other times the husband would message other times the wife. They always made things lively. Then one day both of them vanished and could not be found on any online platform I was on.
There was a night in Fountain when checking social media when I noticed that Dara was online. I messaged her to welcome her back. I asked her where she'd been and through one long message after another I learned of her plight. I learned that she and Sherald had left Minnesota for North Carolina where things took a turn for the worse in their marriage. She then returned to Minnesota bringing her two kids leaving him and North Carolina behind In one regard Dara is no different than many others I've known through the years. Minnesotans never leave Minnesota. If they leave they return and if they don't return Minnesotans never leave Minnesota in their hearts. She then said she was grateful her company let her do remote work through all the transitions. I asked her what company she worked for.
Dara "Capella"
Me: "Are you kidding me? I was working at Capella for 2 years!"
Dara " I know" before I left I saw you on the elevator but it was crowded and I didnt say anything" I worked on the 9th floor on IT you worked on the 7th.. I saw you get off on the 7th floor. Then I was in the 7th floor lunchroom and you were there. I was going to introduce myself as the person you've been corresponding with all these years and I tried to start a conversation with you but you seemed uninterested so I went about my business"
" I can now say not only did I vote for you but you had the cutest ass in that office"
We began to have regular chats. I was scheduled to return to Minneapolis for a recording session.We talked about meeting for lunch .
Minneapolis is a major city with a cultural scene comparable to New York City at the same time many of Minneapolis' residents are transplants from those smaller rural towns like Litchfield, Crosby and Warroad and for a big city that sense of everyone knowing everyone else is alive and well. Word of mouth spreads like in a small town and when word gets out that I'm back in town it doesnt take long for my social calendar to fill up with old and longtime friends.As a result I did not meet Dara for lunch during that visit
Dara vanished online again shortly after I returned to Fountain but then out of the blue I received a message. It was Dara. She was asking me to turn on my camera and chat. Previously I knew that Dara lived in North Minneapolis. When I turned my camera on I knew right away this wasnt North Minneapolis, Before Dara showed her face all I could see was thick grasslands, a long loosely graveled road leading out to the main road I presumed and an old fashioned barn silo.
"Where are you?" I ask
"Home" says Dara
"What? " I say
Dara " After my grandmother died the family was preparing to sell the farm It's been in the family for 100's of years. I didnt want to see it leave the family so I made an offer and the family accepted it. I'll be homeschooling the boys" She then pointed the camera to what looked like an indoor greenhouse area. "There's lots of land to garden. You talk about your gardens all the time. How about when you come to Minnesota in May that you spend a few days playing in dirt with me? She had a particularly noticeable smile as she said that. Anyone in Minnesota who knew me to any degree knew that when May rolled around I was likely to be seen. Dara knew that too. I would always return to Minneapolis in May. It used to be I'd return in May for its Mayday festival sponsored by a local puppet theater company. .COVID killed off the festival as it stood. Nevertheless Minnesota would always seem to come alive in May
I told Dara I'd come to her farm
The day before I was to leave for Minneapolis I began hearing reports both on the news and from friends that a man named George Floyd was killed while under the custody of Minneapolis Police. Nothing surprised me about the behavior of the Minneapolis Police. Over the years I had my share of run ins with the Minneapolis Police..walking while black mostly and once for leaving my apartment while black. I also knew Minneapolis to be a very politically active town. I had participated in a number of anti police brutality rallies in my time there and I thought to myself "There's going to be some response to this"
People still weren't flying much when I left for Minneapolis. DIA felt like a Ghost Town. I was the only person seated on my entire row on the plane. I dont think there were 10 people on the entire flight and Humphrey Airport in Minneapolis known by the locals as Terminal 2 felt like a completely abandoned building.
The Twisted Groove is a small shop located in South Minneapolis. It specializes in selling tye dye wear and other items one might readily see at a Dead show. It had also become like a community center for Minneapolis' counterculture particularly after the demise of the ''Biomagnetic Center of the Universe". "The Groove" as we liked to call it was the home of potluck meals and parties as well as many a drumming session that would last until the wee hours of the morning. It was at the Groove where I was to meet my buddy Dhanny , his girlfriend Felicia and friends who knew I was in town for a barbeque. It was just like old times being at the Groove, food conversation and lots of weed to smoke..well not quite like old times. Now everyone had their own smoking device or joint. The traditional pass the joint around thing was dead.
