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In my hometown, three blocks from my childhood home, is Lake Sisseton, one of five lakes within the city limits and, to my knowledge, the only one with an Indian legend associated with it. As a child, I used to hear people talk about an Indian maiden who died near the northwest portion of the lake. Distraught over the loss of a loved one, she either perished from sorrow or killed herself; I can’t remember which. From the site along the lake where this event supposedly occurred, near Sylvania Park, and running along the woods that cover part of the shoreline just below the back of the courthouse, is a trail. It ends in Ward Park, very close to my old home. As a child, my dad and I used to take this trail often. At the time, it was well worn; however, I am told that no one is allowed there now, due to lack of maintenance.
Anyway, at the very north end of the Lake Sisseton, not far from the cemetery where my father is buried, is a railroad bridge; hence, the photo pictured here. A typical spring scene for this part of town, it is usually enjoyed only by those individuals crazy enough to get up early before the fog burns off. Fortunately, thanks to Chip Pearson, one of the long-time photographers for the
Fairmont Sentinel, I neither have to get up early nor travel 1400 miles to see this sight. I just need to pick up my online newspaper. May you enjoy this photo as much as I did. Have a great day.
Note: After rereading the caption from the photo in the Fairmont Sentinel, I realized that this fog apparently rolled in during the afternoon, not in the morning as previously stated. How unusual.
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