Morris started out as a tent town. The railroad really planted the seeds. Tom Brokaw talks a lot about the fading nature of the many small communities in what he calls "the Great Plains states." "We see towns 20 miles apart, each with its own courthouse and auditor, (an arrangement that) may have made sense in the horse and buggy days."
So we have small towns that sadly seem vestigial, a faint echo of their former selves in many cases. I remember going to Cyrus for varsity - yes, varsity - high school sports events and graduations. A new arrival in Morris today would have a hard time envisioning Cyrus like that. Cyrus couldn't even retain its little cafe. The history of the Cyrus school would be worthy of a museum exhibit. The "Panthers," remember?
The town wasn't big enough to have a football team. I'd suggest that was a blessing for generations of boys who were not tempted to play the dangerous sport of football. Eventually Cyrus was forced into spasms of realization of how high school was no longer sustainable there. It is too bad that could not happen in a manner more free of emotions. Emotions did indeed spill forth.
Maybe a museum could also give some attention to the Cyrus Task Force. I remember that drawn-out drama very well. The late Ron Lindquist, once a media fixture in both Morris and Starbuck, told me the Cyrus Task Force ended up with more power than what the Cyrus board intended. I smirk. It was my Morris Sun Tribune newspaper that was probably responsible, in large part, for the notoriety of the Cyrus Task Force. The Task Force would determine where the Cyrus kids would head once the high school was no more. Hancock or Morris? I don't smirk about that question.
The decline of a small town hurts. At least it hurts at the time the town is making adjustments. Today nobody cares. In the short term, the emotions guaranteed that sound judgment was not likely to be made.
The Sun Tribune newspaper in its prime days of being twice a week and about three times more substantive than today, ran article after article ad nauseum on the Cyrus Task Force doings. Such an august and important body. But really it was advisory, almost a token gesture by the board to suggest broad-based community involvement. My position at the paper put me in position to know about all the minutiae of discussions. I had a co-worker whose family was quite invested in Cyrus. Cyrus and Hancock were together in sports for a time, but they kept the "Owls" nickname of Hancock.
One day I saw some paraphernalia in my co-worker's office for making signs or T-shirts or whatever: "Cyrus-Hancock Hawkeyes." Does have a ring to it. Certainly that was "evidence" for what that family favored: an ongoing Cyrus-Hancock partnership. I heard the proposal floated by some advocates in that crowd for a new school to be built out in the middle of Starbuck, Cyrus and Hancock. That would bond the three towns. That would be cute. But not very practical or sustainable. It catered to the emotions of people who fervently liked the small school model.
Emotions were not going to decide these issues. The State of Minnesota struggled for a time with this matter. The state stepped aside to allow the Lac qui Parle (Valley) and Minnewaska schools to be built in the wide-open spaces. The small town emotions, which seem strong but never last, overcame good sense and intimidated the state, but after that, the state said "no more" (CW has it).
I personally wish I never had such close proximity to the churning emotions of what was happening with Cyrus. I recently reminisced with a friend and noted how our newspaper ran a front page article "every time someone farted" on the Cyrus Task Force. My point was valid in a way that exaggeration can be valid. I recalled how, the more empowerment and importance the task force felt, the less likely it would recommend sending kids to Morris. Morris was the big, bad "big school" with the kind of image and culture that the Mayberry-like folks would feel apprehensive about.
I was so right. When finally the Cyrus Task Force made its decision, the Sun-Tribune writer began her article like this: "It's Hancock."
Yawn. I knew it would happen. But then, almost immediately, there were spasms of emotion springing from Hancock. My God the people were angry. Poor Russ Larson sat there as superintendent and tried calming the waters. Russ, who I found to be a very likeable guy, said the new albeit controversial pairing "would work if the people wanted it to work." Guess we can't argue with that.
But a large faction of Hancock-ites were hardly inclined to see it work. There was a public meeting where the rebels didn't even want to hear any explanations or rationale from the other side. They had slammed the door with their attitude and said - direct quote - "just tell us what we can do to stop it."
As I recall, they were highly concerned about elementary children being bused daily on that winding, rather substandard highway between Hancock and Cyrus (which I took a million times in the Sun Tribune van). I passed by the "Landwehr Ranch" on Long Lake. Good ol' Mr. Landwehr, the old Spanish teacher at Morris High School.
I heard that elementary parents of Hancock would have to make long-distance calls to Cyrus on school matters. Hoo boy. So that ol' Space Shuttle never got off the launching pad. It exploded. All those front page articles in our paper were rendered pointless in retrospect. All those emotions fueling the discussions, emotions focused on small school life, could not carry weight.
The Morris school in those days did have, shall we say, issues. It had self-inflicted wounds. The administration here should have been more assertive instead of shrugging shoulders about certain things. There was definitely a difference between the school culture in Morris and of the nearby small towns. I saw this vividly as I made my rounds for the Morris paper. I was drawn in to the issues through my relationship with many small town-oriented people.
The co-worker whom I mention, and her family, was a factor that I probably could have lived without. "Cyrus-Hancock Hawkeyes." Without a doubt it's catchy. Those Hancock people probably didn't want to sacrifice their "Owls" nickname just for the sake of absorbing Cyrus. And keep in mind that for a school to change nickname/mascot is more than superficial, it's an involved and expensive process.
Cyrus didn't have the traction or the numbers to be assigned a lot of political clout, IMHO. Pass through Cyrus today and try to imagine when it had political clout. It's a wonderful, safe and quiet little town for commuters and retirees. Congratulations, Cyrus. The task force is lodged away in historical archives, or should be.
Tom Brokaw would understand what it's all about: the late spasms of a small town in the "Great Plains" seeking to assert its relevance. Today Hancock continues quite autonomous. Russ Larson had a daughter who played under coach Dennis Courneya in Hancock. There's another chapter of Stevens County history that should never be put aside.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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