Lookback: ‘Uff Da’ those are some stories – Austin Daily Herald

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Ramsey Dam, 1928. Photo provided

By Tim Ruzek

“Uff Da” was proclaimed weekly for nearly a decade in the Austin Daily Herald.

This Norwegian expression was the title of a column written in the 1970s and 1980s by Nate Johnson, a proud Norwegian who was heavily involved with St. Olaf Lutheran Church.

“Not being totally acquainted with the Norwegian language, I was a bit puzzled about the selection of the name,” wrote former Herald publisher Ed Smith in a Nov. 14, 1986, column.

Smith wished Johnson would bring back his column, and he thought Johnson should be credited with the “vastly increased” usage of “Uff da.”

Johnson wrote the column in his last nine years of employment at the Herald, where he started working in 1946 – the same year he married his wife Elaine after serving four years in World War II in the Army Medical Corps. A 1936 graduate of Austin High, Johnson was the Herald’s chief accountant and office manager.

Johnson, who died in 2010 at age 91, loved researching local history. In retirement, he wrote some “Uff Da” columns but not frequently, and he served as a key writer and contributor to the “Mill on the Willow” book on Austin and Mower County history.

His “Uff Da” columns often offered humor and local history, including from his childhood days like the column below when he reminisced about a summer day in the 1920s with two friends exploring the Cedar River. The trip to Ramsey Dam started at Austin Mill Pond’s wooden footbridge that crossed the river from 1927 to 1931.

One of his friends that day – Giles Healy –became the long-time co-owner of Ramsey Golf Course.

“Uff Da” by Ben Johnson – July 5, 1978, Austin Daily Herald

Summer belongs to kids. Somewhere in the Declaration of Independence or the United State Constitution or the Bill of Rights, there must be a clause, which makes it official. It should come right after the place which says that autumn, winter and spring belong to parents.

Happy is the child whose parents realize that he or she needs summertime over that allotted to chores and regulated activities. There are rivers to be crossed, roads and lanes to be hiked and time set aside to lay in the shade and dream awhile.

I doubt if it is any different now than when we were young. During those years from 8 to about 13, we lived summer lives, which were partially undercover. We had things to do which did not have parental disapproval – because our mothers and fathers were happily unaware. In that category would be examining old and deserted houses, searching the dry dump, climbing on rafters and into the basements of houses under construction (after the carpenters went home) and swiping green apples.

Always there was the river. It was our avenue to adventure. We knew the paths and hideaways. We located the submerged tank where someone stored his home brew and from its taste, we wondered why he bothered hiding it. We knew where we could find hazel nuts and choke cherries and bullheads. We knew a great place for an overnight hike, with fresh spring water and enough seclusion so that swimming suits were unnecessary.

In my mind, my most adventurous hike was my first, with Jim Hogan and Giles Healy. Both were a little older than I, and evidently my parents considered them sufficiently mature.

Our target was Ramsey.

We started just below Rayman’s boat house, which was east of the YMCA, before they transplanted the river. There was a foot bridge across the river, later replaced by an automobile bridge. Anyway, on the other side of the footbridge was a path which followed the river.

We proceeded with Giles in the lead and Jim acting as rear guard. About a quarter of a mile along the way, Giles came to an abrupt stop, with me crashing into him. Ahead of us, across the path, lay a body. I think both Giles and I were ready to hightail it out of there, but Jim, with the instincts of a true Boy Scout, decided that he should examine the alleged corpse. The verdict – a drunk sleeping it off.

At Ramsey junction, there were seven or eight derelict locomotives, with no railroad man in sight. For the next hour, we conducted a railway and sped over limitless miles in each our own private engine.

No one heard the whistles blow or the bells clang but it happened.

Heading south by an overland route, we came to a spot which had a large growth of small poplar trees. They seemed to be growing wild, and no one said we couldn’t so we each rooted up a tree to take home.

One last big event. They were laying concrete for the new Highway 218. Everything proceeded well under our supervision.

Our entire hike lasted about five hours but has remained for 50 years in my memory. The poplar trees never grew up but we did.

Giles went back to Ramsey one day and bought a golf course which wasn’t even there when we made our hike. Jim has had a fine career with the Hormel Company and possibly has time for hiking again.

Kids never express much appreciation but I sure enjoyed that hike.

There is one area where my children and I are in full agreement. Austin was a great place to grow up in. Especially in summer.

If you have a suggestion or a comment for Tim Ruzek he can be reached at tim@mowerdistrict.org