The
following is a series of correspondences from the Spring of 2016.
From: Ben McGrath
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 10:55 AM
To: Kari Frisch
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Hi Professor
Frisch,
I'm writing
about someone I believe we both met, several years apart. In your case,
he was canoeing down the Mississippi--and I believe you met him at or near
Blanchard Dam? In my case, he was canoeing down the Hudson River, and I
met him more or less in front of my house, 15 miles north of New York City, on
Labor Day, 2014. In both cases, I'd guess he was wearing denim
overalls... his name was Dick Conant.
The sad news
is that a few months after I met Dick, I got a phone call from a wildlife
officer in North Carolina, who was investigating an overturned canoe.
There was no body, but all of his belongings were still there, suspended in
bags beneath the boat. A piece of paper with my phone number was one of
the first legible documents they turned up, which is how they got to calling
me.
In any
event, I'm now writing a book about Dick's life of adventure, and I wonder if
you'd mind sharing your recollections of your brief encounter with him. I
came across your name while working my way through his voluminous notes and
archives, which the remaining Conant siblings have been letting me look
through. I'd be happy to show you what Dick wrote about his meeting with
you, but I figure it's probably better not to plant memories first...
Thanks for
taking a look, and sorry to be the bearer of unhappy news.
Ben McGrath
Staff Writer
The New
Yorker
From: Kari Frisch
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 11:03 AM
To: Ben McGrath
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Oh my
gosh! I can't tell you the number of times I've thought about him.
Such terrible news. I would love to visit with you and stay in contact with you
regarding your project. Please share and I will do so gladly in
return. Thanks for looking me up and for telling his story.
Kari
Frisch
Central Lakes College
From: Ben McGrath
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 11:34 AM
To: Kari Frisch
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
here is an
excerpt from his manuscript where you come in: [please forgive
formatting. I'm just cutting and pasting from his document]
11AUG09 – I
am in Elk River, MN. Last night I camped at Monticello, MN, near the town park.
I continue my narrative: During the start of my third stage of portage at
Blanchard Dam, and after my visit with the friendly retired couple, I met a
young woman named Kari Frisch (pronounced, car’-ee frish). She is an educator
in the fields of theatre arts and cultural communications at a two year junior
college in nearby Brainerd, MN, (Central Tech. Community College?). We enjoyed
an excellent conversation for the next two hours while she assisted me with two
trips over this third stage. We took little rest periods in between. Our talk
ranged widely and so I much enjoyed her company. She cohabits with her
girlfriend and has no children. She is happy in life and is dedicated to her
students. She found it odd and disconcerting to find modern texting methods
employed by one of her students in a submitted term paper. She thought it was
gibberish though the student found it highly intelligible. I thought it was
hilarious and though I am texting illiterate; I cited it as perhaps an
example of our ever evolving language and lexicon. Who nowadays can
in fact read Beowulf in the original old English? This same student missed an
entire week of summer school classes and Kari was forced to set her back. Sad
but true. Kari also told me about a recent tour she completed in Egypt. She
said the main reason for taking the tour was to spend some time viewing the
pyramids. She was annoyed because despite the overall quality of the tour, her
group spent at most fifteen minutes actually walking about the pyramid site
before the tour guides hurried them off to the next attraction. She lamented
with emotion, “That was the main reason for crossing the Atlantic Ocean!” Her
group also visited Karnak and the Valley of the Kings. I mentioned I had spent
some months in the Persian Gulf and offered my take on what it is that Al
Quaida wants. Kari is completing a year’s sabbatical after ten years and more
of teaching. She is the senior faculty member of her department, the equivalent
of department head. Before we said so long I told her about Neal Moore and his
adventure and gave her his blog address. (The next time I saw Neal he said that
she had been in contact with him and sent me her greetings.) This was another
delightful visit. She was a good lady and I greatly appreciated the assistance
she gave in helping me haul my goods. Many hands make light work, especially on
a hot, sunny afternoon. Eventually she left and I continued with my chore.
After portage I set up a lean-to on the beach below the dam and cooked myself a
satisfying meal of noodles, beans and pickled sausage sautéed in oil and soy
sauce. It was good. I then visited with a married couple about my age, Bill and
Carol, who are from Fargo, ND. They were scooting around in the river bottom looking
for small, nickel-sized geological formations common to this area. I saw a few
specimens of these gray rocks that sported little natural sculptures resembling
Maltese crosses. They are interesting and found in the riverbank in the bottom
clay. I remarked about the common effort exerted last winter in Fargo to save
the city from the ravages of the flooding Red River. The fellow, Bill, agreed,
and just then another man and his brother arrived and proceeded to steal the
conversation. One was a firefighter from St. Cloud and was affable enough.
These two men were on a geo-cache hunt and were finishing up a short, canoe day
trip. The older of the two was the more talkative and got out his chart of the
river for this area. He showed it to me and I found it helpful. He informed me
that the dam at St. Cloud was the last portage for me in this part of the
country. The remaining downstream dams were equipped with locks. Since I was
paddling a recreational vessel I was permitted to take advantage of this old, tried
and true technology. It was a great relief to hear this. I am damn blasted
tired of portaging. I have had four in the past week and they get old. Despite
the welcome help at Blanchard it was still a difficult portage and close to a
mile in length. My new friends soon continued on their respective ways and I
went to bed.
From: Kari Frisch
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 12:28 PM
To: Ben McGrath
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Wow.
So crazy. I'm actually in tears right now as I just re-read my
recollection of my meeting with Dick, which you can read here: http://www.brainerdcommunityinternet.org/community_journalism/story_detail.php?permalink=http://ncicsj.blogspot.com/2009/08/unexpected-discovery-along-soo-bike.html
Ever
since meeting Dick, I have used this article when I teach my
Interpersonal Communication class. How odd to reread it now, knowing what we
know today. Can't believe it's been 7 years, more than 14 semesters,
dozens of sections, and hundreds of students. No,
it's probably been over a thousand that have heard my side of
the story. And now, here is the complimentary side
of the story. As fate would have it, I am once again just
finishing up a sabbatical, my second, and this time you're providing
me with perspective-changing "unexpected discoveries". I
guess I'll have to make this a two-part assignment from now on. :) Somehow, even though the two sides have
rejoined, I feel the story is not over. Instead, it's re-merging,
and like the river...just flowing on.
Please
keep me posted with your project.
Kari
From: Ben McGrath
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 12:52 PM
To: Kari Frisch
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Hey, that's
neat, and I love those photos. I can assure you that you are far from the
first person I've been in touch with who has mentioned tears. Also, I've
been in touch with Neal Moore, and he wrote me a long and moving note about all
the things he learned from Dick, and how he believes Dick's wisdom ended up
saving his life. In fact, I think Neal may be planning another canoe
trip, involving Ellis Island or somewhere out east, later this year, inspired
by Dick's memory.
This is more
reading than you may be bargaining for right now, but if you're interested,
here's the first little story I wrote about Dick:
And then
here's a longer follow-up I published a few months ago:
But there's
still so much more to tell and explore, and so I'm pushing ahead with the book.
I have some
other photos I can send you, too, but first I have to meet with a contractor...
for now
Ben
From: Kari Frisch
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 12:54 PM
To: Ben McGrath
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Thanks!
I look forward to the read. Do you mind if I link out to those articles
in my class as a follow-up to the article I wrote? I'd also like to share the
email you sent me within my confined (and secured) classes if that would be ok
with you. Let me know. Thanks.
Kari
From: Ben McGrath
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 1:02 PM
To: Kari Frisch
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
sure, by all
means. I'd love to hear what the students think!
From: Kari Frisch
Sent: Monday, April 4, 2016 12:54 PM
To: Ben McGrath
Subject: dick conant, canoeist
Great
thanks!
Kari
APRIL 4/5
For the next several
hours (well really days), I really struggled because I kept thinking about my
encounter with Dick and the news I had received about him. The context was so
sad for me. How could a stranger have such an effect on me. Our paths had crossed, but I never expected to
hear from or about him again, although of course I always wondered, especially
each semester when I came to this assignment. I’m sure when I left him that day, I didn’t
even know I’d be turning my meeting with him into an assignment that I’d end up
using for years, or that at some point fate would intersect us
again for a life reflection (and a second assignment).
The
news from Ben also raised more questions that I couldn’t get answers too. What
happened to him to cause his canoe to overturn? What happened to his body? Was he happy until then? Had he just been
traveling the river ways since I met him so long ago? How many other people
did he meet with his infectious personality? How much will we never know? I kept thinking about the fact I almost didn’t
stop on that day to wait for the owner of the mysterious stuff left by the
portage sign. What if I wouldn’t have?
On
the other hand, even though it was terrible news, I was able to get a gift from it as well. I was able to connect with Ben. I was able to share my story and soon I’ll be
able to hear other stories of Dick and people’s encounters with him. I was
also able to hear his perspective on our time together. We so rarely get to see that other perspective
of a conversation with a stranger as we only see and experience moments from
our own eyes. So many
thoughts, ideas, emotions, and overwhelming ideas of life, death and
connections swirled through me. I felt a
great desire, no need, to honor Dick and this unexpected discovery. And so, here’s what I wrote and shared first
with family and friends, and now with you, my students as I continue the ripple
effect by developing this into “Unexpected Discoveries—Part 2: The other side
of the story” J
Kari
Frisch
April
5, 2016
So I've
had kind of a heavy heart which I can't quite shake since yesterday morning
when I was contacted by a staff writer at the New Yorker who was emailing me
about a gentleman, Dick, whom I had met 7 years earlier and was in most ways a
complete stranger to me. Within the first two lines of the email I knew exactly
whom he was referencing and a mass of positive memories quickly came to mind.
Dick
was on a quest to paddle the entire Mississippi. I had met him while he was
portaging across the bike trail that I was pedaling that day. I helped him
portage his canoe and belongings as he was by himself and I was somehow drawn
to him and his story. We had a great conversation, and I spent more time
visiting with him than biking that day, but it was all very gratifying and
unexpected, so much so that I wrote about it and have used that piece as a
basis for an interpersonal communication assignment in every class I've
conducted since meeting him--yes, 7 years worth of students!
Unfortunately,
the journalist from the New Yorker went on to say how sorry he was to be the
bearer of bad news. Turns out that in 2014, after completing his journey of the
Mississippi and pursing other canoe quests, DIck's canoe was found overturned
in a river in North Carolina. No body was found but all the belongings were still
carefully attached to the canoe. Ben had met Dick a few months earlier on
Dick's Hudson River adventure, and like me, had an engaging and memorable
conversation. The journalist, Ben, had been contacted because his name and
phone number was in a bound and bit water-logged journal found in one of the
plastic bags.
Over
the last couple of years Ben has been wondering about Dick and with the
family's blessing has been going through Dick's journals, notes and archives.
He was contacting me because I was in Dick's journal and he wanted to share
what was written about me and he wanted to hear about my recollections (not
knowing I had written something about it). He also shared that he was writing a
book about "Dick's life of adventure".
With a
flood of different emotions and questions, I had to respond. So I sent a brief
email reply saying how sorry I was to hear such sad news and that I remembered
Dick well. I told him to please share and I would gladly do so in return,
ending with a word of thanks for taking on Dick's story. Before I could
complete the task I had originally been working on when first interrupted, Ben
had responded back with the sweet words Dick had written about that day and how
much he too had enjoyed our conversation. He wrote a whole section about that
day. And although we only had crossed each other's lives for a matter of two
hours, what stood out to me the most was that in the mist of all he noted about
our conversation, he had also written this, "She is happy in life and is
dedicated to her students." Again a flood of emotions.
I sent
Ben the link to the article I wrote after meeting Dick and explained how I
might have to change this to a two-part assignment in class seeing as how I now
had the other side of the same story.
It's odd how our stories re-merged yesterday and yet also
continue to move forward together, even in his passing. I'm happy Ben is
telling Dick's story seeing how many lives Dick surprisingly touched on his
"solo" adventures. So to honor Dick and the legacy he left. Here's my
original story about him. Stay tuned for others.
So now it’s our turn to honor the “unexpected discoveries”
that we have to consciously not let pass us by, for after all, we don’t know
what ripple effects
we are setting into motion. We
are more connected than what we see or know at the time. What’s your ripple
story?
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