I spent every summer of my youth on a lake in northwestern Minnesota. It was a populated, but semi-remote area. There was no mail delivery and the closest telephone was at the bait shop on the channel that connected two lakes in a large chain. Our lake only had a handful of resorts (one of which was only two doors down) and was peaceful enough to have plenty of loons (of the waterfoul variety). There was no action; the village was comprised of two general stores, a gas station, and Wally’s bait shop. My sister and I had to go 10 miles into town for that.
The biggest event of the summer would happen Memorial Day weekend when Mr. McDougal would unveil his latest contraption for ridding the shoreline of weeds, usually some variation of a tractor on stilts pulling some sort of submerged digger.
Apparently Minnesota lake life has changed dramatically over the past 40 years, judging from this account in today’s Minneapolis StarTribune:
“Around 7:30 p.m., a man in one boat and two men in another boat began arguing about their driving conduct. The men, who did not know each other, pulled their boats alongside one another. The man leaned into the boat containing the two other men, and one of those two allegedly threw him into the water, Chandler said.
“As the suspects fled, they drove over the top of the victim, killing him on impact, Chandler said.”
But wait, it gets better:
“Large, uncooperative crowds hampered the rescue and recovery efforts, Chandler said.
“‘Hundreds of boats were rafted together and they refused to move,’ he said. ‘They were aggressive; they didn’t want to lose their spot to watch fireworks. We even had witnesses who said they didn’t want to have to come in to (make) statements and miss fireworks.’”
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