Nashville Stories

Chips Quinn Scholars capture essential Nashville stories Friday, Aug. 15, 2008. Stories include Centennial dog park, coffee culture, Nashville morning, western wear, gourmet paletas, Lower Broadway, Nashville’s Farmer’s Market and Vanderbilt’s band camp.

Pancaked

A line of hungry customers often wraps around the Pancake Pantry building on the southern edge of the Hillsboro Village neighborhood in Nashville. The restaurant opened in 1961 and quickly became a place where locals, tourists and the stars mix for breakfast and lunch.

Too Weird to Franchise

Bongo Java is a gathering place for all of Nashville. Located across the street from Belmont University in the hip Belmont-Hillsboro Village neighborhood, Bongo attracts musicians, students and artists.

Ghost Dancer

Artist Alice Aycock’s sculpture “Ghost Ballet for the East Bank Machineworks” was funded by the Metropolitan Nashville Arts Commission and unveiled along the banks of the Cumberland River in 2007. Ghost Ballet is 100 feet high, 100 feet wide and 60 feet deep, and is made of steel, industrial metals and neon.

Country to Cupcakes

Gigi’s Cup Cakes is a gourmet cupcake shop owned by Gina Butler, a former country singer turned baker. Butler’s passion for baking came from years of baking with her mother and grandmother.

Vander-Built Green

Vanderbilt’s Freshman Commons is an environmentally friendly building and certified as a a Gold level building from the U.S. Green Building Council’s Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) Green Building Rating System.

Art or Not?

The Color as Field: American Painting, 1950-75 exhibit at the Frist in Nashville challenges visitors to decide what is art. The exhibit has 41 paintings by artists like Kenneth Noland, Jules Olitski, Frank Stella and Sam Gilliam.

Pop Up Art

A new pop up art book exhibit at the Nashville Public Library mixes literature and art. The new exhibit appeals to library visitors of all ages.

Refugees in Sioux Falls

The North Cleveland Apartments in Sioux Falls are home to many refugees like 64-year-old Sudanese refugee Adam Yahya who was a veterinarian and now works at the Morrell meat packing plant. Read the story.

CARE Camp

Students in the Sioux Falls Multi-Cultural Center’s summer C.A.R.E. program learn cultural appreciation from renowned Rosebud Sioux hoop dancer Dallas Chief Eagle. Approximately 100 students participate in four summer programs intended to teach equlaity and harmony. Chief Eagle’s classes are amoung the most popular in the program. “I never get afraid when I dance because God made me to dance,” said 9-year0old Rose Sindjeu, a native of Cameroon.

(Video by Sarah Welliver, AIJI Staff)

At This Coffee Shop, Dark Roasts and Memories of Home

Black Sheep Coffee looks and smells like any other cafe, but many of its customers have known violence, civil wars and suffering in their homelands that normal caffeine addicts could not fathom.

(Video by Tileena Leighton, AIJI Staff)

By Sarah Brubeck

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. — Black Sheep Coffee looks and smells like any other cafe, but many of its customers have known violence, civil wars and suffering in their homelands that normal caffeine addicts could not fathom.

Abraham, a 24-year-old Eritrean man who fled his war-torn home five years ago to South Africa as a refugee is so afraid for his families’ safety in Eritrea that he will not allow his name to be used. With a new life in Sioux Falls, he now finds himself at Black Sheep Coffee several days a week.

When asked whether he visits every day, Abraham says: “Not every day, but a lot. There’s an Ethiopian restaurant by the corner. People from Africa come here. It’s nice to see people that look like you.”

Outside the cafe located at 1007 W. 11th St., a large Black Sheep Coffee sign states, “Can’t sleep? We can’t help.”

Chipped pea green and tan paint covers the walls of the cafe along with framed artwork, which is often rotated out. The sound of customers slurping their cafe mocha competes with the quiet click of laptop keys and the noise of fresh coffee beans being ground. A chipped chess set sits on a hand-me-down table. Muffled African languages fill the room.

Coffee talk is different in the United States compared with such talk in Africa, Abraham says. In the United States, people will talk about their families without being asked, but ask about politics and that’s rude. In Africa, politics is a daily conversation topic, but ask about someone’s family and that is considered rude.

“A lot of the Ethiopians that come in here are pretty political about what is going on in their country, and they want to tell us about it,” says Adam Haskett, one of the managers for Black Sheep Coffee. “Most Ethiopians are refugees.”

Haskett, the manager at Black Sheep Coffee, says many of his customers are Latino, Asian and Caucasian, but mainly African. The Africans come from countries as varied as Ethiopia, Sudan, Kenya. At Black Sheep, they find coffee from home.

“The most popular is the Ethiopian Harrar,” Haskett says. “It’s the largest growing section in Ethiopia where I believe coffee originated.”

Omar Gonzales has lived in the United States since 1985. He came here from Nicaragua with his family to escape a civil war in his country, in which rebels supported by the United States fought against the socialist Sandinista government. He has worked with coffee for seven years and has worked at Black Sheep Coffee for three.

When asked why he thinks Ethiopians are drawn to Black Sheep Coffee, Gonzales says, “I think a lot of it is that we sell coffee from three different regions in Ethiopia. A lot of people will order from the region they are from. A lot of people strictly stick to the light roast, and there are people who just want dark coffee.”

Inside Black Sheep Coffee sits a black chalkboard with colorful chalk filling every square inch. A list of Ethiopian, American and Asian coffees is scribbled on the board. Sumatra and Colombian decafs are listed along with French roasts from Nicaragua, Colombia and Guatemala. At the bottom right-hand corner of the board is scribbled in yellow chalk, “We brew everything here so there.”

“Mainly the African customers like to use a lot of sugar and cream in their coffee,” Gonzales says. “We burn through that. We basically give that away. They usually just order whatever we have brewed up and then add a lot of cream. The previous owner said that’s a big ‘no-no.’ It ruins the coffee.”

After the Vietnam War, Sioux Falls became a haven for many foreign refugees. Lutheran Social Services of Sioux Falls has helped other groups of refugees from the former Soviet Union, Bosnia and Sudan and helped them start a new life in Sioux Falls. Many of the main groups today are from Burundi, Somalia, Ethiopia, Eritrea and Iraq. Places like the Sioux Falls Multi-Cultural Center also assist people of all cultures in starting a productive life in Sioux Falls.

Abraham left Eritrea because of a war between Eritrea and Ethiopia. Eritrea broke away from Ethiopia in 1961 and ever since the countries have fought on and off. The war ended in 1991, but conflict has persisted between the two nations. After living in South Africa for 10 months, Abraham came to Sioux Falls because his sister already lived here. His sister now lives in Minnesota with her husband.

“I’m very much comfortable here. I’m very much successful here,” Abraham says. “I’m comfortable, but that doesn’t mean everybody is comfortable here.”

Abraham has lived in Sioux Falls for four years. He goes to school at Colorado Technical University of Sioux Falls and his favorite movies are “Mouse Hunt,” “Blade” and the “Tomb Raider” movies. He could speak English before he came to the United States, but the accents are very different between Eritrea and Sioux Falls.

“Three years ago, you couldn’t understand me,” Abraham says. “When I went to South Africa, I had trouble understanding. Good thing about American English is that you hear every word. I could learn it quickly.”

At Black Sheep Coffee, Abraham often sits at his laptop and does schoolwork or makes cellphone calls to his family who lives in the United States, Africa and Europe.

He often drinks black coffee with a cup full of milk and eats a breakfast burrito filled with eggs and covered in red sauce. Abraham lives alone and often finds himself at Black Sheep Coffee between 6 and 9 p.m. on the weekdays.

“Coffee’s coffee for me,” Abraham says. “I just get regular coffee.”

In Eritrea, it is unacceptable to serve coffee to someone who is younger than 18, but it’s perfectly acceptable to serve alcohol to a 10 year old, Abraham says. Abraham tasted alcohol when he was two or three. He says the government doesn’t encourage it, but it’s accepted.

On a Thursday afternoon, Abraham greets a man he calls Sam as he walks up to him, shakes his hand and moves toward the back of the cafe to order his own coffee. Abraham doesn’t know Sam’s real name, but he says he’s been introduced to him as Sam. He also doesn’t know Sam’s last name or anything of real importance about Sam. He’s just an acquaintance and, according to Abraham, the nice thing to do is say hello.

“I’ve met him before,” Abraham says. “I don’t remember his name, but I used to. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

Even Jonas goes by a nickname. His real name is Yonas, but he goes by Jonas because it’s easier for people in Sioux Falls to pronounce.

To an outsider sitting on the black, cushiony chair against the wall in Black Sheep Coffee, it may seem as if all Ethiopians, Eritreans and Sudanese know each other. Every time a new customer walks into the cafe, the customer greets the Africans sitting outside at black iron tables and customers sitting inside. In Eritrea, it is custom for people to stop, say hello and have a short conversation with anyone they have met before.

On a Sunday afternoon, Abraham and Teseha Hailu, a former Sudanese refugee may seem like good friends to the unsuspecting eye. Talking and sitting together at a table outside of Black Sheep Coffee, they look like they are having a friendly conversation, but they hardly know each other.

“I just borrowed his pen,” Abraham says. “You say hi, bye. If I have nothing to do and he has nothing to do, we’d find something to talk about.”

Hailu has lived in the United States for 14 years. He first lived in California for a year but moved to Sioux Falls because of the job opportunities.

Abraham says he is more likely to talk to an Eritrean before an Ethiopian and an Ethiopian before a Sudanese.

“From a mile away you can tell if they are Ethiopian,” Abraham says. “I can even tell which region they are from. If you meet somebody that you’ve known for one hour, you have to talk to them or it’s rude. If he’s not interested, he has to at least pretend he’s interested. Even if I don’t know him, I can’t just walk out and not say hi.”

Refugee Children Find America Through School

About 90 child refugees, most from Africa, are enrolled in the Family Immersion Center summer program at Jane Adams Elementary School in Sioux Falls. The program focuses on acculturation, English instruction and some academic content. Although many of the students have had some English training in their homelands, none are proficient. The immersion center is one of the first steps in the children’s transitional process.

(Video by Tirrell Thomas, AIJI Staff)

By Amelia Quiroga

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. – Imagine if the economy put the nation in an upheaval: Fuel is a luxury, money is hardly attainable, and food is scarce. Anarchy spreads through the nation in militia war over commodities, and you have no choice but to flee with your children to a country abroad. You enroll your children in school, and classes are taught in a language in which neither you, nor your children, are proficient.

About 90 child refugees, most from Africa, are enrolled in the Family Immersion Center summer program at Jane Adams Elementary School in Sioux Falls. The program focuses on acculturation, English instruction and some academic content. Although many of the students have had some English training in their homelands, none are proficient. The immersion center is one of the first steps in the children’s transitional process.

Yassin Issak, 14, from Somalia, has lived in South Dakota for nine months. He’s attending the family immersion’s five-week summer school. He enjoys writing, studying science and learning about the human body.

“If I’m learning something good, I can get good job,” Yassin said. “And [be] good worker.”

Yassin lives with his mother, father and four siblings, he said. Three are enrolled in the immersion program. He enjoys living in Sioux Falls because “African and American people, they are same,” Yassin said. “People are people.”

Experts who work with Sioux Falls refugee community have no solid count of the number of child refugees living here. Estimates range from 400 to 800. Kevin Dick, the principal of Jane Adams, guessed that 600 to 800 refugee children live here, but called his estimate a “shot in the dark”

Whatever the number, most refugee children are not proficient in English and need special training to transition into classrooms. Children can find language help through a variety of organizations including Lutheran Social Services, the Family Literacy Center, the Sioux Falls Multicultural Center and at Jane Adams.

For some of the children, Jane Adams is their “first educational experience in the U.S.,” said Pam Meyer, who conducts English testing and placement.

Depending on the time of year they arrive in Sioux Falls, refugee children are usually enrolled in school within the first 30 days, Meyer said. But if they aren’t enrolled by the last day of school, they’re not eligible for summer school classes, she said.

The immersion center’s student program is designed for children who have been in the United States less than a year, Dick said. The children come from homes in which no English is spoken, he said. The summer classes are offered so students stay active in English training.

Before entering the program, the children are tested for their proficiency in speaking and listening. In the fall, the test will include a writing section as well. The classes are divided by age groups but students range in proficiency.

Students show a wide range of ability, said Cheryl Bosma, Jane Adams summer math teacher. “You have to really modify the class for them, based on what they can do,” she said.

Success rates among the children vary, Dick said. Most students stay in the program for one year but are allowed two years.

Children succeed more often when parents, or other family members, have resettled before the student arrives and can provide the children with a stable home. Students have often suffered in refugee camps, Dick said. What they learned to survive might get them in trouble in a mainstream American public school. So teachers and staff at Jane Adams help them adapt. They teach the children that they are safe in school, they will not be tortured or hurt, and they must follow rules, he said.

“Those are lessons that don’t come naturally,” Dick said.

Yassin said that he and his family cannot go back to Somalia, which has seen war, famine and disease since its government failed in 1991. “Now they are fighting,” he said. “But this is free country.”

In terms of maturity, refugee students differ from the average American student, said Clara Hart, summer liaison at the immersion center and a former refugee from Mozambique.

“They have a three year jump in maturity level,” she said. “I don’t see that as a negative, it’s a plus.”

Hart has worked at the immersion center since it opened in 2000 and has lived in Sioux Falls for 20 years.

The immersion center has welcomed several ethnic populations among its student body, Dick said. The newest refugee population is from Iraq and the next will be from Bhutan and other parts of Asia, he said.

“The population changes every year,” Dick said. To know which ethnic population will enroll next, one just has to follow the conflicts of other countries, he said.

Although refugees are “met with different levels” of acceptance, Dick said, the community for the most part embraces the diversity and is accommodating. Sioux Falls represents 74 countries and 56 language groups, Dick said.

Dick and the Jane Adams staff do extensive research on incoming students and their homelands to get a sense of the children’s experiences.

“It’s a way to show them some compassion and care,” Dick said. “If I can be a part of that, then that’s what’s fun and motivating for me. I would miss this at times if I were not around.”

Once a Veterinarian, He Wants to Practice in America

The North Cleveland Apartments in Sioux Falls are home to many refugees like 64-year-old Sudanese refugee Adam Yahya who was a veterinarian and now works at the Morrell meat packing plant.

(Video by April Gregory, AIJI Staff)

By Patrick L. Delabrue

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. – After arriving in the United States two years ago, 64-year-old Sudanese refugee Adam Yahya found work at the Morrell meat packing plant. He worked with sausage casings.

Though he is no stranger to animals or hard work, Yahya was disappointed that he couldn’t use his education and professional expertise as a doctor of veterinary medicine. He needs to be a U.S. citizen to work as a veterinarian. But citizenship is still three years away.

Worse, he developed a fungus under his fingernails while working at Morrell, he said.

“They told me I would either have to change where I worked in the plant or leave,” he said. “For me, I decided to leave the place.”

Yahya’s life as a refugee has its beginnings in a coup in 1989. He had been a high-ranking government minister, he said, when the National Congress Party took over the government. Yahya calls the government he worked for Sudan’s “last democracy.”

He believed in his work in Sudan, knowing that caring for animals mattered in a nation that so depended on livestock.

“My main choice in life was to go into the medical line,” Yahya said. “I chose veterinary medicine because we have a wealth of animal resources in Sudan, millions.”

Yahya put aside practicing veterinary medicine in 1987, he said, when he became a deputy governor of the Darfur region of Sudan and then held the position of Minister of Health and Education.

When the NCS came to power in 1989, Yahya’s situation became perilous.

“They told me I was an opponent to the regime,” he said. “A lot of political leaders were imprisoned. They followed us and harassed us.”

Yahya said before agents of the new government took him to prison and subjected him to interrogation. It was a kind of psychological torture, he said, taking him from his cell to repeat the interrogation only to be put back into his cell.

“It was political persecution,” he said.

Though he was not physically tortured, many others from the former government were, Yahya said.

“So either I join them, or go to prison,” he said.
After being released from prison, Yahya applied for a visa to visit Cyprus. “After the wars they discovered I left the country and started asking questions about where I was,” he said.

After that, Yahya said, the new Sudanese govenrment couldn’t get him. “I was already outside the country.”

Yahya said he applied for refugee status in Cairo, Egypt in 2003. The United Nations processed his application to come to the U.S. in 2004. When he received permission to come to the U.S., he wasn’t allowed to choose the city or state. He arrived in Sioux Falls on May 31, 2006.

“Back in Sudan, we know a lot about America in general, but I had no idea what life was like in Sioux Falls,” he said. “My first impression of the city was that it was very quiet and peaceful, especially in the time of year when it is very green.”

Happy to have finally arrived, Yahya still suffered culture shock.

“The way of life here is very different,” he said.

One of the biggest differences is how families relate to one another. He said that in Sudan extended family matters.

“Here, everybody is independent,” he said. “We may not know our neighbors, but in Sudan you know all of your friends and neighbors very well.”

Especially, he said, for those who live in small villages and towns. They know as many people as possible. Drivers will offer rides to strangers.

Since his departure from the Morrell plant, Yahya has found work at Bell Inc., a maker of cardboard boxes. He also works as a part-time interpreter with the Lutheran Social Services of South Dakota, giving advice to recent arrivals on how best to assimilate.

He said one of the biggest challenges for recently arrived refugees is the different values that Americans apply to raising children.

In Sudan, Yahya said, “you can lash your child or beat him if the child does wrong or shows disrespect,” he said. “When they come here, the parents find difficulty when they beat their children.”

In schools, he said, teachers and social workers ask children if they are treated this way and sometimes call the police. “In this case, when the police come and take away the child, for being beaten by their father or mother, we find it very difficult to accept that situation,” he said.

In addition, Yahya said, girls can’t have boyfriends.

“The girls should stay in the house until they are 18 and married,” he said. “So I wish they would take our cultural norms into consideration.”

He said he knows four families who have lost their children to government social service agencies. It affects the parents psychologically when they are not allowed to raise their children as they did in Sudan.

Despite the cultural differences, Yahya encourages families to assimilate by working hard, getting a good education and being good citizens, he said.

“When they learn American values,” he said, “then they can make their own lives, productive lives.”

For now, Yahya’s productive life means work in the box factory. And he looks forward to the day he can once again practice veterinary medicine.

Language Skill Makes New Life Less a Hard Sell

To a stranger, Les Pietruszkiewicz, 56, a Sioux Falls Real Estate agent and former refugee from Poland, looks like a typical businessman putting in his eight-plus hours a day. Only those closest to him know that a short 25 years ago he didn’t know the significance of a check or how to deposit one, either.

By Jacquelyne Taurianen

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. — Les Pietruszkiewicz walks into his office a few minutes past 10:30 a.m. on a Thursday. He begins unloading the gadgets that get him through the day: his cellphone accompanies a laptop and desk phone, Palm Pilot, calculator, notebook, portfolio and finally, the ultimate sign of South Dakota assimilation, a personalized, Wall Drug coffee mug.

To a stranger, Pietruszkiewicz, 56, a Sioux Falls Real Estate agent and former refugee from Poland, looks like a typical businessman putting in his eight-plus hours a day. Only those closest to him know that a short 25 years ago he didn’t know the significance of a check or how to deposit one, either.

For a refugee, something as a mundane as a checking account can highlight the divide of culture, economy and understanding.

“When I came … no checks, no checking account in our country,” he said. “I never see check until I get here. A lot of people don’t know how they work or trust the checks.”

A client of his, a new refugee, once came to a closing with 18 checks in hand, ready to pay for the house.

Perhaps better than anyone, Pietruszkiewicz could empathize with the misunderstanding.

Early in his own settlement, a personnel office called him asking him about his untouched payroll checks.

“I had like 13, 14 checks I didn’t cash,” he said. “I kept them at home because I thought, ‘this is the money.’ ”

More than two decades later, Pietruszkiewicz takes the mistakes and misconceptions he once had and turns them into lessons for others new to the country. He does it in the hopes of making their lives easier.

Pietruszkiewicz first left Poland in 1983, escaping from communist rule to a refugee camp in Austria.

When he came to the United States, he had to leave his wife and children behind.

Although he would write letters and call home as much as possible, it was difficult to get through Polish government control and it was expensive. And so, his first years here, he was alone.

Pietruszkiewicz worked several jobs after arriving in Sioux Falls. He worked in construction, left for a job in a plastics company where he made bottles and then left that job when he was hired at a local meat factory.

“I applied to work at John Morrells three times before I got the job because I had no language skills,” Pietruszkiewicz said. “It was very hard because I had no time for class, all I did was work to make money.”

Adjusting to a new language was the hardest part, Pietruszkiewicz said.

That, and being without his family.

Two years and three months after he came to South Dakota, his wife and children were finally granted access to the United States.

And when Agnes couldn’t find work, Pietruszkiewicz opened a family business, The Polish Plate.

“We started to cook because that’s what we know how to do,” Pietruszkiewicz said. “It’s what you do if you don’t know language, you try the best that you can do and we can both cook.”

The Polish Plate had a 10 year run and through it, Pietruszkiewicz continued learning how to overcome obstacles.

He invented a number system to identify food orders instead of words so he and his wife would be able to communicate with customers.

His ability to adapt, creatively at times, and his diverse background made his next transition, into real estate, an easy one.

“I sold my first house to a couple from Latvia who only spoke Russian,” Pietruszkiewicz said. “I speak several languages so that helps me and I was so happy.”

He started in the business to make a better living for his family but stayed because the love he has for the job and love of helping others, especially those in the same situation as he was when he first came to America.

“Oh you’re talking all the time with different people, and you help them,” he said. “That is your service to the public, and it’s good because many people from other countries … Russia, Bosnia … don’t know what to do, where to go, how to get started to get a house, so I can help them.”

He speaks all the Slavic languages and uses them to his benefit every opportunity he gets.

He says he loves talking to people even when it is difficult.

“If I don’t understand or they don’t understand, I ask them to explain it in a different way,” he said. “Eventually, we always figure it out.”

Pietruszkiewicz knows the benefit of helping people in life and business. He receives about 95 percent of his referrals from word of mouth.

“People in the community talk,” he said. “I will sell a house to their cousin and then when they are looking, they are told ‘go to Les, he will help you.’ ”

This holds true for more than just housing.

“I told them it’s for life,” Pietruszkiewicz said. “You call me, not even related to house … something happened … you call me. They get an accident, call me and ask what to do. So I tell them to, or I will call the police and sometimes I go the accident.”

Other times Pietruszkiewicz is requested by Lutheran Social Services, the organization that helped him resettle, to help with translations in an emergency.

“Sometimes I have to go to help immigrants to get papers … or if they’re in the process to do green card or naturalization,” he said. “I sold a house to a Bosnian couple. Now I don’t speak Bosnian but for example Russian, Czech and Polish. That would be easy to communicate with Bosnian because they are similar. So if they talk slowly and I talk slowly, we can communicate.”

Dan Hoiland, 52, a former boss and longtime friend tells this story:

“I will never forget the guy that needed help after a heart attack,” Hoiland said. “He was in danger of losing his house. And Les didn’t want to see that happen, so he helped him refinance and the guy still has the house today.”

Sioux Falls is “familiar” now and there’s more help in the community for immigrants and refugees, including from him.

“I love talking to people and being able to help them,” he said. “It’s a little different (today), but it’s still difficult for people and I understand that very well. I understand what they feel because I felt same way before.”

Capsized!

Fast moving storms and 25-40 knot winds forced Hobie Cat sailors to abandon a day of racing on Lewis and Clark Lake in Yankton, S.D. June 5, 2008 during the North American Hobie 20 Championships. Several boats in the field of 33 capsized or de-masted due to severe wind gusts, forcing officials to cancel the day’s races. Sailing resumed again the next day, with final races held on Saturday, June 7 in calm winds. Oklahoma natives Phil and Bev Collins took first place in the race. Read more

Storm Upsets Day of Racing

A strong storm blows across Lewis and Clark Lake in Yankton, S.D., bringing an early and dramatic end to a day of sailing during the Hobie Cat 20 North American Championships.

(Soundslide by April Gregory and Adelle Watts, AIJI Staff)

Father and Daughter Set Sail

A father/daughter sailing team battle a storm on Lewis and Clark Lake during the Hobie 20 North American Championships.

(Soundslide by Tirrell Thomas and Tileena Leighton, AIJI Staff)

Down to the Wire

The final two states to hold primaries, South Dakota and Montana, went to the polls June 3, 2008, to help decide the Democratic nomination for president. Sioux Falls voters in both the Obama and Clinton camps made their voices heard.

Every Vote Counts

Wakonda, a town of about 400 is one of Clay County’s smallest polling places. Voters drive in from as far away as Irene to cast their ballot.

Vermillion Votes

Vermillion voters explain the importance of their vote and why they cast a ballot for their candidate.

Last Hurrah?

Hillary Clinton made her final swing through southeast South Dakota, stopping in Yankton for a rally at the Yankton High School.

(Soundslide by Sarah Welliever, AIJI Staff)

The South Dakota Primary

Students of the American Indian Journalism Institute covered South Dakota’s last-in-the-nation presidential primary (along with Montana) Tuesday, June 3. Students posted updates, photos, audio and video from throughout southeast South Dakota as Democratic voters decided between Sens. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. In Union County a proposed oil refinery on the ballot was approved but faces an uphill battle.Click here for AIJI election coverage.

A Day of Reflection

The town of Madison honored their military men and women who died in combat at a Memorial Day service.

Alexander Knight, DI Multimedia Scholar

Some Americans see Memorial Day as a vacation, because most adults are off work and children are out of school; however if you ask the brave men and women who have served, or currently serving in the armed forces, it is a day to pay homage to soldiers who have served this country and give ultimate thanks to soldiers who have died in war.

The people in the town of Madison endured the heat to pay their respects to those who fell in battle, and veterans came to be part of the annual Memorial Day service at Veterans Memorial Park.

For former Sgt. Earnest D. Sharp, who said he served 21 years in the Army, homecoming was bittersweet. He returned to Madison after a 50-year absence. “I couldn’t miss a day like this, and I’m proud to be here,” he said.

For some, the holiday brought back painful memories that will live with soldiers and their families forever. “It’s ashame that boys have to give their lives for something that they believe in,” said Jack Redden, World War II and Korean War veteran.

Many people said they couldn’t help but reminisce and shed tears for soldiers who have fallen in combat; a grim reminder was wall plaques bearing their names throughout the park.

With the distractions surrounding this holiday, many people have forgotten what the true meaning of Memorial Day is. “Memorial Day is not about picnics and barbeques, but about remembering those who have served our country,” said Lisa Mossier, Madison resident. Sadly, this the only day that we recognize soldiers for their accomplishments and their sacrifices. We need to thank our soldier’s everyday instead of setting aside just one day to honor them.

Memorial Day Blues

Thunderstorms sent the crowd running for cover at the annual Legends of the Blues Music and Arts Festival in Centennial Park.

Angelica Roberts, DI Multimedia Scholar

Spectators and organizers felt the blues from inclement weather during the 7th annual Legends of the Blues Music and Arts Festival in Centennial Park on Memorial Day.

The festival had been underway for an hour under cloudy skies when the band Beat Daddy’s took the stage at 1 p.m. and played for an hour. Within minutes, before the second band played, the festival was cancelled due to the weather.

“Of our seven years, this is our first rainout,” said Mimi Shimmim, the festival coordinator. “We wouldn’t have cancelled it, but the thunder and lightning made it dangerous.”

Laura Parks of Columbia, Tenn., said she lives 40 minutes away and “decided to come out here to hear some good blues, and to hopefully enjoy a fun day.”

The festival, scheduled to end at 7 p.m., was held around Lake Watuga where miniature U.S. flags were displayed throughout the festival area. Many spectators were dressed in traditional red, white and blue colors.

To appease older and younger crowds, two stages were set up, and special performances were arranged for the different age groups.

“I’m excited because now I don’t have to listen to the music with the old people,” said Sharon Wills, 8, of Memphis, Tenn.

Roy Moser of Raleigh, N.C., said he liked blues music and added a somber tone: “Veterans fought for us to enjoy the American life. This festival is allowing us the freedom to do so.”

Even Vendors Get the Blues

Vendors working the annual Legends of the Blues Music and Arts Festival had a case of the blues when rain poured down and cancelled the event.

Erica Morrison, DI Multimedia Scholar

Not everyone is fortunate enough to take off on Memorial Day.
Darlene Davidson was hard at work at the Legends of the Blues Music and Arts Festival celebration at Nashville’s Centennial Park amid tunes to sway the hips, chow to feed the lips and other vendors offering art and fashion tips.
Davidson, owner of Opulent Things, an online store on eBay, showcased her jewelry at the festival for the first time. Her line features beads she molds from clay, African prints, gemstones and tie-dyed beads, for which she uses “rosa clay and colors, and [prints] 10 designs.”
Most of the pieces are one of a kind and limited edition, she said. Davidson referred to her jewelry making as a hobby but said she hopes to make it her main source of income.
Also at the event were Jack and Carol MacDowall, owners of Moose Head Kettle Corn in Nashville, who are living the dream. A former head chef in Colorado, Jack decided to go into business for himself. The couple started Moose Head four years ago and has made it their primary source of income.
Not only do they attend events like the annual Memorial Day festival and movies-in-the-park events, but Moose Head also supplies all popcorn for the Tennessee Performing Arts Center, The Produce Place and a specialty basket company based in Nashville.
The MacDowells, who sell their corn online and ship worldwide, said they hope to begin opening franchises within five years. Moose Head’s goal, Jack said is to provide “a consistent superior product that is always going to be the same anytime you see us.”

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