The SenTree

sentry noun sen·​try | \ ˈsen-trē  \plural sentries

Definition of sentry: GUARD, WATCH  especially : a soldier standing guard at a point of passage (such as a gate)

A recent South Dakota Magazine article about trees and the stories they hold reminded me of a tree that has overseen so many of my late fall sunrises. The tree doesn’t even sit on my property. It does, however, sit as the backdrop for virtually every deer that has been harvested on our property for the past 25 years.

I think the tree is some kind of elm but I don’t know for certain. I’ve never touched it. I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten within 20-25 yards of it. By the time it factors into our deer hunts, the leaves have long ago fallen and it would be difficult for me to even determine what kind of tree it actually is - not that it matters. When you look at the tree during the day, it is extremely unremarkable.

During deer season, however, the sun rises directly behind this tree when you sit in our deer stand. It transforms from “just another tree” to “the tree”.

Bluejay Baptism

The first “big-time” basketball game I ever remember seeing was a game between Ohio State University and Creighton University at Omaha Civic Auditorium in Omaha on December 30, 1972. Our family was visiting my grandparents during the holiday season.

My Uncle Mel came over and said he had some tickets for the Creighton basketball game and asked who wanted to go. I was 12 years old and had never been to a college basketball game so I was in immediately!

Even though it was a mid-major Creighton team, the visiting Big 10 Ohio State raised the profile of the game considerably. Ohio State dominated the Big 10 in the 1960's. Under Fred Taylor, they won three outright conference titles, shared three others, won the the 1960 National Championship, and finished national runner-up in 1961 and 1962.

Opening Day

I have lifelong friend who is a talented writer. He wrote this essay and shared it with me. He has permitted me to post it here. I've added a few photos. 

He's capture the spirit of this annual event perfectly. I am fortunate to have a friend with whom I've been able to share it. Enjoy "Opening Day" by Craig Kirsch.

Opening Day

In this small central South Dakota town, it’s the biggest day of the year.  Bigger than the high school’s homecoming, bigger than the Fourth of July, and even eclipsing Christmas in terms of visitors and traffic.  It’s the opening day of pheasant season, in the heart of the best county of what is regarded as the number one state for ringneck hunting.  The city of Winner, located in Tripp County, a normally quiet community of 3000 residents, can boast of a proud tradition of excellence on the high school football field, as well as being the childhood home of Notre Dame legend Frank Leahy, but it's the area’s consistent abundance of the colorful game birds that it is most famous for.

The second or third Saturday of each October will find the small burg transformed into a thriving metropolis for hunters.  The normally tranquil town thoroughfare is packed bumper to bumper with four-wheel-drive pickups toting dog kennels, and drivers and passengers clad in blaze orange caps and vests.  Every motel room in town is occupied, and seats in restaurants are tough to find for that morning’s breakfast.  Come noon, however, the streets are silent and eateries unoccupied, for everyone is in the field awaiting the noon whistle, signaling the start of the hunting season.

No Worries

In 1994, we won a Chevrolet sales contest that rewarded us with a trip to Disney World in Orlando. The trip was in January 1995. Judy and I planned to take our two kids, Rachel (8) and Alex (5), on the trip which Chevrolet promoted as a family trip. This was all B.S. (before Sarah, our youngest child, who hadn't been born yet).

Chevrolet hosted us at Disney World's Swan and Dolphin Resort which is located in the heart of the Disney resort. It is  located in between Epcot and Disney's Hollywood Studios

It was a journey to drive two hours to the airport in Sioux Falls, catch an hour long flight from Sioux Falls to MSP, then fly 3-4 hours to Orlando. We then retrieved luggage, found ground transportation and made our way to the resort. We were all tired by the time we arrived but there was a party taking place when we got there and the kids were excited to explore things.

Chevrolet's "Welcome Party" took place on the beach near the causeway between the Swan and the Dolphin. There were many food stands with different types of cuisines. There were games and activities for all ages on the beach. We were all walking through the party wide-eyed, taking it all in.

Suddenly, we realized that Alex was not with us. As we looked around, we didn't see him anywhere. Had it been a regular Disney crowd, we would have really been concerned. Since it was a private party, I wasn't quite as worried. As it was, we quickly started backtracking to try to find him.

Finding a Friend in Dakota

“I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me, they are the role model for being alive.” – Gilda Radner (comedian)

I lived in the dorms my first three years as a student at Creighton University. During my junior year, five of my fraternity brothers and I decided we would move off campus to a large house on Cuming Street about eight blocks from campus.

This decision allowed me to buy the dog I always wanted. I pulled the trigger a bit earlier than I was supposed as I bought the dog while I was living in the Palms (now Kenefick Hall). Dakota, my six week-old English Springer Spaniel lived in the dorm with me for about two weeks before the spring semester ended.

That presented a few special challenges and a few messes on the floor. But with the help and understanding of my two roommates, we made it to the end of the semester.

Dakota laying on my waterbed in our "corner room".

We moved into the house, a three-story, six-bedroom palace, in late May. I claimed the corner bedroom on the second floor that looked out over the roof of the over the back third of the house. I had seven windows that opened up to this roof. The roof was just below the bottom of the windows.

Dakota could jump out the window onto the roof and relieve herself and then come back into my room. That particular skill became a priority as soon as we moved in.

After a few successful ventures onto the roof and some heaping praise, Dakota figured it out. Needless to say, taking a leak worked fine - no residual. The other trips, did present a bit more of an issue.

Bishops, Cardinals and Trick Plays

I started working with kids in the summer of 1976 when I was the Assistant Summer Rec Director for the City of Chamberlain. Eventually I was the director and went on to coach baseball, basketball and football. I have worked with kids in some way ever since - some forty plus years.

When my wife and I moved from Omaha to Des Moines in 1984, I volunteered to coach a baseball team. The boys were 12-14 years old and we had a good summer. I enjoyed working with them and I believe the boys had fun. We were respectable - I think we were about .500.

Toward the end of the season, one of the fathers asked me if I'd be interested in coaching the St. Theresa's Cardinals. We belonged to St. Theresa's Parish and several of the boys on the baseball team would be on the football team so I agreed to coach them.

So later that summer, I went to an organizational meeting at one of the other Catholic churches in Des Moines. I could tell from the minute I entered the room that this was not going to be like my baseball experience earlier that summer. The room smelled like testosterone and I think I saw guys keep getting up and peeing in the corner!! This room was full of guys determined to relive their football glory days!

You Scratch my Back

Our last family pet, Repo, an English Springer Spaniel, had this annoying habit of picking up the gray landscape rocks around our house and carrying them out into the middle of the yard and dropping them. Of course, this made mowing the yard hazardous because those rocks became missiles when the mower ran over one of them.

We had rocks go through two different windows and the homeowners insurance carrier even threatened to drop us because of that (don't even get me started on that!).

I had never really watched Repo long enough to understand why he would do such a stupid thing. I attributed it to his constant need for something in his mouth.

One day, after returning from a productive day afield, we were cleaning pheasants out in the yard and one of my fellow hunters was watching Repo take a rock from near the house out to the middle of the yard. He asked me about that habit and I dropped a few choice words indicating my disapproval of the habit and went back to the ringneck at hand.

Shortly thereafter, he was marveling at what a smart dog Repo was. I suggested that he might have gotten into the barley pop a bit early. He pointed out that Repo was rolling on the rock he had deposited in the yard, scratching his back blissfully.

As I watched, it was true. I walked over, grabbed the rock and deposited it next to the house in its intended spot.

A few minutes later, Repo had snatched another rock and was laying on his back, squirming away, driving the rock between the shoulders blades, where apparently, the itch was just too much to handle.

Learning the reason behind the annoying habit didn't make me like it any better - but at least I understood!

"This one should REALLY do the trick!"

A Bird in the Hand

My son Alex has a friend who, when they were in high school, had never hunted pheasants despite living in the "Mount Rushmore State" his entire life. So we decided in the fall of 2006, it was time for Joe to shoot his first rooster. So, on a crisp Saturday afternoon in October, we took Joe with us in pursuit of the South Dakota ringneck pheasant.

After an hour-long trip to our hunting property, we met our hunting partners, did the obligatory hunting safety session, loaded our weapons and spread out across the first field of the afternoon.

In a scene familiar to any pheasant hunter, we were making our way through a field on a line with those on the ends slightly ahead of the rest to give them a chance to shoot at a pheasant that might try to make its way out the side.

Joe was strategically positioned at the far right end of the line in hopes that he might have a better chance to get a shot there. It seemed that all the birds were getting up and flying straight away from us into the wind.

Finally a rooster pheasant got up in front of the left side of the line and veered to the right giving everyone a chance to shoot at it. Everyone did shoot at it and as it flew across the line of 10-12 hunters from left to right, shooters unloaded their guns at the bird.

Kruising on the Krawdaddy

These  moments  we're  left  with

May  you  always  remember  

These  moments  are  shared  by  few  

And  those  harbor  lights,  lord,  they're  coming  into  view 

We'll  bid  our  farewells  much  too  soon  

So  drink  it  up,  this  one's  for  you 

Honey,  it's  been  a  lovely  cruise  

“Lovely  Cruise”  -  Johnathan  Baham,  1977

The Kradaddy sits in Cedar Shore marina

In the spring of 1999, as I was frantically trying to secure tickets for the Final Four in Tampa, I was concurrently bidding on a boat. I had looked at the boat before leaving town and had set a limit for my proxy bidder. When I learned I was the high bidder, I wasn't sure if I was the winner or the loser!

This is the story of that boat and the ten great summers on Lake Francis Case on the Missouri River that followed. 

I Shot an Arrow Into the Air...

After my failed elk hunt of 2013, I would have to wait for nine years to apply for a Black Hills Firearms elk tag. In an effort to get another chance in the Black Hills a bit sooner, I wanted to try archery again. I had owned a bow back in the early nineties but really never spend enough time with it to become proficient.

I bought a PSE bow on eBay in the summer of 2015. I started practicing in September of 2015. I did hunt a bit in 2015 but had a busy schedule during the deer rut and did not get out enough to really see the traffic patterns. I was not very confident with my shot either - maybe 30-35 yards.

This year, I made a commitment to practice as much as possible in September. I spent a half hour each evening that I could and fired 20-25 shots. I was confident up to 45 and would take a shot up to 50 yards.

I got out to watch the deer a bit in September and early October. I knew where they were moving and what was out there.

As the calendar moved into late October, I was getting out for an hour each evening. I saw deer and was getting close to does. I had does within 20 yards. But I did not see any bucks.

Finally, I saw a nice whitetail buck one evening. I saw him several times over the next week and got to within 70 yards of him. But I could not get within a reasonable range.

I started to panic a bit because we had a trip to Spain-Portugal planned for November 3-13 and that was supposed to be peak rut. I'd only have a couple days left to hunt when we returned before the rifle season started and then the rut would be over and the bow hunting would become much more difficult.

I did not get close to anything before our trip. We returned on a Sunday and I was exhausted on that Monday. On Tuesday, I went to Omaha for the Creighton-Wisconsin basketball game and returned home about 2:30 AM.

I had three days left. I had to go to my stores in Winner and Mission on Wednesday and teach religious education that evening. And now the forecasters were predicting a winter storm for Thursday/Friday. My window of opportunity was quickly closing - and fast!

2016 Knust Kronicle

2016 Knust Kronicle

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year from the Knusts!

Click here to see the 2016 Knust Kronicle

You can find previous Knust Kronicles and Christmas letters here.

South Dakota Speed Goats

After several years of threatening an antelope hunt, and a couple years of applying for tags, Alex and I finally got tags for a 2016 South Dakota antelope hunt. We had applied for Butte County tags because the number of tags was great and we could stay in our cabin.

Butte County borders Wyoming on the west and sits just north of the Black Hills. The Belle Fourche River winds through the middle of the county. There is some irrigated hay and corn along the river but it is almost completely pasture land when you get away from the river. Cattle (mostly black angus) outnumber humans 5 to 1 in Butte County (50,000 to 10,000).

Since neither of us had ever hunted antelope before, the research began shortly after notification that we had gotten tags. Butte County had two antelope units and I found that there was plenty of public land and walk in access for us to hunt in the unit for which we had tags.

We couldn't hunt the opening weekend because I planned to attend the 2016 Ryder Cup in the Twin Cities. So we made plans for the second weekend of the season. We drove out to the hills on Thursday evening after work and got in late Thursday night.

On Friday morning, we took off early for southern Butte County. We were a 45-minute drive from our destination. Armed with GPS and Google maps on the iPad, we were set. Our entire weekend hunt would be in the shadow of Bear Butte.

Bear Butte could be seen throughout our hunt.

We found some Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land that looked good to us and parked the truck. We loaded up our gear and walked about 2 1/2 miles and sat on hills looking out over the flat area adjacent to the Belle Fourche river. We would sit for a half an hour and then move on to another hill.We saw nothing. So about 10 AM we headed back to the truck to find a new area to hunt.

Having Husker Genes

I grew up in a Husker house. Anyone who did knows what I mean by that. My Dad, "Husker Harry" as he was known to his friends, was born and raised in Howells, NE and found his way to Lincoln in the 1954 where he earned degrees in business administration and "Husker Fever". It was a virulent strain of the fever with which attempted to afflict everyone around him!

Harry, Alex and me at Notre Dame vs. Nebraska game in 2001

I think I first realized the consequences of this Husker affliction when I was a young boy and went pheasant hunting with him. South Dakota pheasant hunting is a whole different tradition (which I have discussed before) but my Dad liked to mix them - Husker football and SD ringnecks.

Dad would walk through the corn fields in pursuit of the "wiley ringneck" with headphones on so he could listen to the Husker football game. Now, I'm talking about the early version of radio headphones that were the size of shoe boxes on each side and weighed about 10 pounds. He never hit many pheasants with those on but he never MISSED a Husker touchdown. We'd be walking through the field and, all of a sudden, he would start whooping it up, celebrating the latest Husker venture into the end-zone.

I was ten years old in 1970 when the Huskers made a big trip to the west coast to play the USC Trojans. Dad and Mom invited some friends to our house to listen to the game on the radio. The game started at like 9 pm Central Time and Dad told me I could sit up with them and listen to it. We sat around the kitchen table as the reception faded in and out (needless to say, out at the most inopportune moments!) into the wee hours of the next morning. It was a classic and ended in a 21-21 tie.

Later that season, Dad and Mom took me to the Nebraska-Oklahoma game in Lincoln. We were guests of then Husker head coach, Bob Devaney. We stayed where the Huskers players stayed the night before the game and I remember what a thrill is was to see those guys walking through the lobby. I still have the sweatshirt (though it is closer to pink now than it is "scarlet"!), game program and ticket stubs from that weekend.

The Huskers won a hard-fought battle over the Sooners that day, 28-21. But the outcome wasn't decided until the final play, when Husker defensive back Jim Anderson picked off Jack Mildren's heave aimed for Jon Harrison in the end zone.

Nebraska finished 10-0-1, its first undefeated regular season since 1965, and ranked No. 3 in both wire service polls, behind two unbeaten and untied teams: No. 1 Texas and No. 2 Ohio State. The UPI didn’t conduct a poll after bowl games, so Texas was its national champion for 1970.

Notre Dame upset Texas 24-11, and Stanford staged a fourth-quarter comeback to defeat Ohio State 27-17. Nebraska learned of the latter result during the Orange Bowl’s pregame warmups.

The Huskers took care of business with a fourth quarter rally over the LSU Tigers in the Orange Bowl that night and captured their first national title. My Dad smiled for a month about that.

Then, after running the table on the first 10 games, Nebraska’s 1971 season came down to a single game at Owen Field in Norman, OK on Thanksgiving Day. The #1 Cornhuskers played #2 Oklahoma in what still is regularly regarded as college football’s "Game of the Century".

Both teams entered the game undefeated and untied. Nebraska had the nation’s top-ranked defense. Oklahoma had its most productive offense.

The cover of Sports Illustrated (Nov. 22, 1971) published the week of the game included photographs of Nebraska linebacker Bob Terrio and Oklahoma running back Greg Pruitt, nose-to-nose, beneath the headline: "Irresistible Oklahoma Meets Immovable Nebraska.’’

My family was in Omaha for Thanksgiving that year where we celebrated with my Dad's family. We all gathered at my Uncle Ron (Dad's younger brother) and Aunt Diane's house for Thanksgiving meal and then the football feast. I was impressed with the fact that they had a "Go Big Red" toilet in their basement complete with Husker toilet paper! There must have been 25-30 Knusts packed in to that basement for the game. I took a front row seat with my cousins.

Nebraska's Johnny "The Jet" Rodgers opened the scoring less than four minutes into the first quarter with a 72-yard punt return, As Lyell Bremser shrieked from the radio "Holy Moly! Man, woman and child did that put them in the aisles!", bedlam broke loose in the Knust basement. There were high fives everywhere. I knew it was a big deal when my 70+ year-old grandmother was jumping up and down in the back of the room.

The game was one great play after another. The highlights can be seen below and the entire game can be seen here. (The old ads are worth a look!) Nebraska won 35-31 as Jeff Kinney scored the winning touchdown on a 2-yard plunge, the 12th play of the championship drive, with 1:38 remaining. 

The two teams went on to crush the state of Alabama in their bowl games. Nebraska won its second consecutive national championship by beating Alabama, 38-6, in the Orange Bowl. The Sooners crushed Auburn, 42-22, in the Sugar Bowl.

Those fifteen months, starting with the Huskers tie with USC on September 19, 1970 and culminating with that win over Oklahoma on Thanksgiving Day, 1971 pretty much cemented my life -long affinity for Nebraska football. 

Like everything else he did, my Dad rooted for the Huskers with passion and enthusiasm. The quickest way to have him befriend you was to pledge loyalty to the Cornhuskers. I have said many times that if we didn't watch the Huskers on Saturday, we didn't get to eat dinner. If they lost, it wasn't served!!

Harry's last Husker Game with daughter Sarah

Over the years, Dad and I made many pilgrimages to Memorial Stadium together. Often we would introduce someone new to the pageantry of Nebraska football. Our last trip together came in October of 2010 to see the Huskers beat Missouri 31-17. He made Husker fans out of my wife, Judy, and all three of our kids.

Husker football is certainly one of "Husker Harry's"legacies. I'm happy to have his Husker genes!

Going Deep

It was the bottom of the 17th inning, scored tied at 31-31, bases loaded and two men out. Suddenly, in deep left center field, a light began flashing. It was completely dark in the backyard field except for the light mounted on the house behind home plate. The flashing light in the outfield was a distraction to the hitter who was digging in for the critical at bat. At first no one noticed, but eventually, that light (in combination with my mother's calls) drew everyone's attention.

I don't remember how that game turned out. I don't even remember if I got to play until "the end" - perhaps because it is scrambled with so many other memories of summer evening neighborhood wiffle ball games, which were a nightly ritual in my neighborhood growing up.

I was reminded of such summer activities as I recently read Harper Lee's classic "To Kill a Mockingbird". While there are many complex and serious themes in that book, the tales of summer antics and playing outdoors until dark reminded me of my favorite childhood games.

Though my neighborhood had a vacant lot suitable for ball games, it was not mowed sufficiently most of the time and it did not have any (yard) lights (for those late night, extra inning classic that occurred at least six nights each week!). So we played most of our games at "Hutmacher Field", which was the largest backyard in the neighborhood.

Shaped a little like old Polo Grounds in New York (very short distances to the left and right field walls, and an unusually deep center field), it was a classic ball park. Just like every classic old ball park, it had its own characteristics.

Polo Grounds

There was a five foot drop off a retaining wall behind first base (which led to more slides into first), a cottonwood tree belt line created the boundary behind third base (sometimes a high fly to right field didn't come down!) and "the wall" in center field was a drainage ditch (leaving us to trust the outfielder's call as it got dark!). Visiting players were consistently flummoxed by the grounds rules!

Of course when I look at "Hutmacher Field" now, it's not nearly as big as I remember it when I was 10 years old.  The entire area between second base and the center field "wall" is now occupied by a blue spruce tree that no 10 year-old could ever appreciate then but that every South Dakota adult marvels at now! In its day, though, "Hutmacher Field" was a very spacious ball park. Like Polo Grounds, it served double duty as a football field in the fall.

Our neighborhood was full of ball players - both boys and girls. Some were regulars, other played only when there was nothing else to do. But the core of both teams remained pretty consistent.

Just like Major League Baseball teams, we played virtually every night. Our games, however, rarely went just nine innings. Often we would play a doubleheader and sometimes, as more players joined, we would play tripleheaders! I am certain that we played as many games in June-August as those big leaguers played in April-September.

There were no umpires. Get in the box and swing the bat. Swing and miss three times and go sit down. Breaks evened themselves out over the course of the summer. There were no adults to interfere or hand out participation trophies. We learned how to work it out and get along or the game would disintegrate.

Evenings in late June and early July were particularly busy as the summer solstice offered us daylight until almost 10 pm. Games lasting 25-30 innings were common then. BONUS BASEBALL! I still think of the wiffle ball season starting to wind down when I hear the dry, undulating buzz of the cicadas in late July and August.

It seemed like my Mom broke up every game. Though I know this wasn't true, her beckoning from the back door of our house in left center field was pretty hard to ignore - though I did my best!. I had determined that I could get in at least 2 innings from the first call to the "there's gonna be hell to pay" final summoning.

As I look back fondly at these summer games, I realize how lucky we were back then that there was no X-Box, Facebook or Snapchat. We had sweat, grass stains and mosquitoes instead! How lucky we were!

Slaying Mr. Jellyhead

Though I've had tags in the past, I had never killed a spring turkey. My first, and only, turkeys were harvested in the fall of 2014. Spring turkey hunting comes at a very busy time for me.

This year, I drew a prairie turkey tag for Brule County and an archery turkey tag. The plan was to kill a turkey with the shotgun with the first opportunity and bust out the bow if another opportunity presented itself.

Again, this spring was extremely busy. My opportunity to shoot a turkey was dwindling rather quickly. I had seen a few hens and a few jakes in the yard but other than one tom a week before the season opened - nothing.

On this morning, I came charging out the back door of the house to check on the mower before heading off to the store. It was about 8:45. I got two steps out the door and saw a jake and a tom close to the path on the ridge behind the house. They were just on the edge of the yard.

They heard me but didn't see me and I was able to get back before the door slammed. I went to the garage to get my gun and call. I worked the box call a couple times inside the house and the tom immediately swelled up like a balloon being inflated. He began strutting around and looking for that elusive hen he had heard. Little did he know that "she" was in the screen porch!

I went back through the house, out the garage door in the front of the house and around the north side of the house. I peeked around the back of the pizza oven in the back yard to see Mr. Tom still in strut mode, his his wattle was radiating Husker red and snood dangling from his light blue head, wiggling as if full of red Jello. I poked my gun around the corner of the fence and took aim.

Scene of the slaughter is edge of lawn directly behind 

The blast of my 10 gauge shotgun released a turkey load at about 35-40 yards. He jumped up and turned toward the draw following his companion, the jake. Did I get him?

As I walked toward where he went, I saw that I had drawn feathers from him. I walked about 20 yards past where I shot him to find a heap of turkey laying in the grass. He was 15-16 pounds. He had nice long spurs and a 8-9 inch beard. My first spring turkey!

I lugged him back to the house before fetching a camo vest to wear over my work clothes for a photo! I had him cleaned, in the fridge and was to the store by 9:30! Not s bad start to a beautiful spring morning!

Hang Together? Or Separately?

"We must, indeed, all hang together or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately."  

-Benjamin Franklin

If you're a student of the American Revolution, you will recognize the quote above. Franklin's message was that the signers of the Declaration (as well as colonists in general) had to help and support each other or they were doomed.

I believe that is much like a local community. If those of us in a community do not support our local businesses, we won't hang separately or be executed, but we are doomed.

If you live in a small town, you surely have been encouraged to “buy local.” But what, exactly, does "buy local" really mean? Certainly you are being encouraged buy groceries, hardware and clothing locally. But the higher the price of the items you buy locally, the greater the impact your purchase has on the local economy.

According to the website local-first.org, $73 of every $100 you spend returns to the community through avenues such as taxes (which support the local schools and teachers), payroll (which employees may again spend locally), and other expenditures (like support of local events, activities and organizations).

When you buy locally, businesses have the opportunity to create more jobs locally. Simple economics dictates that more local jobs means a greater demand for workers and thus higher wages and/or better benefits for everyone in the marketplace.

When you buy in Mitchell, Rapid City or Sioux Falls or online, none of the money spent stays in in our local community to pay taxes, payroll or any other expenditures. In other words, you are not supporting the local schools and teachers, local events, activities or organizations. 

"But I Can Save Money"

Can you save money? Are the goods or services you are buying really less expensive? Are they of the same quality? Did you consider the value of your time (driving or riding to another community)? Did you factor in the cost of your transportation (fuel, maintenance, depreciation of your vehicle, etc.)? Did you factor in the cost of shipping and handling (of an online order)?

My experience is that, if given the opportunity, local business owners do or would be willing to match the true cost of goods. To be fair, this should include some of the costs mentioned above. The question is, are you willing to give them that opportunity. Do you care enough about the future of our community to look at a transaction fairly and give the local vendor that opportunity?

I am not advocating feel-good, it's-worth-paying-more-for-local concept. I believe that if you do give the local businesses the opportunity to earn your business, you will be rewarded with better prices, better service and a better community. 

Proud to be Your Local Automobile Dealer

As an automobile dealer with stores in Chamberlain and Winner, I ask you to consider applying the logic above when you purchase your next vehicle. I would enthusiastically welcome the opportunity to help you find your next vehicle, get the financing package that fits your needs and provide service for your vehicle going forward. I believe we can bring value and enjoyment to your ownership experience.

Find the Right Vehicle...

The automobile world has changed drastically over the past 15-20 years. It used to be that you would have to go to the dealership to see a vehicle. The internet allows you to shop online for the right vehicle. Smart phones and tablets let you do that from virtually anywhere. 

It does not make sense for a small town dealership to stock hundreds of vehicles and pay the interest associated with stocking so many vehicles when we can have access to many more vehicles without the expenses. We have a network of dealer-partners across the Midwest with which we trade and buy cars, trucks and SUVs. This expands our "true" inventory exponentially. 

Our professional staff will find the new or used vehicle you are looking for. You won't have to drive all over looking for that "just right" automobile. You tell us what to find, and WE WILL FIND IT!!

...At the Right Price...

When you buy local at Harry K's, you will save money! Our prices will reflect lower costs and will

save you money when compared big city stores. Our overhead expenses (interest, taxes, facility, utilities, salaries, etc.) are much lower and we pass that savings on to our customers!

...And Payment...

At Harry K's, we have access to more than a dozen different financial institutions that specialize in automobile financing. We will shop these banks and pit them against each other to get you the best interest rate possible. 

We will use our buying power to help you get financed even if you have had some bad luck in your financial past. We will work hard to serve your financing needs because you're not just another customer, you're our friends and/or neighbor as well!

...And We'll Take Care of You Down the Road...

Our service professionals are training weekly so that they provide the best service for your vehicle. The value to you is that you can be assured that your vehicle will continue to perform at the highest level and when you come back to trade your vehicle, it retains the greatest value possible because we have a service record.

Growing Together

We believe that when businesses in the community thrive, the community thrives. Unlike big city businesses or dealerships, we are proud to give back to our community. We know the summer rec and swim team schedules because our sons and daughters play and swim on the teams. We are not just your local dealer, we are stakeholders in your community. Supporting your local dealer means supporting the small-town community.


You are more to us than a paycheck or a profit. You are our friends and neighbors. Give us a chance to earn your business. I believe you benefit and our community will benefit!

2015 Knust Kronicle

2015 Knust Kronicle

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Knusts!

Click here to see the 2015 Knust Kronicle

You can find previous Knust Kronicles and Christmas letters here.

Another Point of Views

South Dakota adopted the slogan "Great Faces, Great Places" in 1990. It refers to the famous faces of Mount Rushmore and all the other interesting people and places across South Dakota. The slogan is seen on license places, promotional materials and some road signs.

The Chamberlain-Oacoma area, my home, has some of those great places. I have chosen my five favorite views in our area. It was difficult to narrow it down to just five. We have many spectacular views and I reserve the right to add to this post at a later time!

I need to point out that the most difficult part of this post was in choosing just one of the many photos that I have of each of these views. It seems that regardless of whether they come from my phone or my DSLR, these great views cannot be spoiled!

(I encourage you to click on each of the photos.)

Sunrise from my Deer Blind

The only thing that would make that sunrise better is the silhouette of a big 5x5 buck on the right or left side of that horizon. There is nothing like being reminded of the majesty of God's creation first thing in the morning. I admit to being a bit drowsy on some of those early mornings but a sunrise like that snaps me out of it better than a strong cup of java! (as does the silhouette of a nice rack of antlers!)

Chamberlain-Oacoma Bridge from ANY Angle

The Chamberlain-Oacoma Bridge (Old Highway 16 Bridge) has an interesting history. Perhaps, more importantly, it has personality. One only needs to look a mile to the south at the Lewis & Clark Memorial Bridge (Interstate 90 Bridge), which was built in 1974, to see a comparably functional, but completely vanilla bridge spanning the Missouri Bridge. The lights make it a great model 24 hours a day. Trust me when I tell you that I have many, many photos of this bridge taken at all times of the day!

Any Fireworks Display Over the Missouri River

If you've ever watched a fireworks show near water, you understand this one. The show is magnified by the reflection in the water. Chamberlain's "Rock the Bluffs" show is one of the area's best every year. Sometimes (as above) Mother Nature contributes to the grandeur.

Cliffs North of Chamberlain at Sunset in Summer

I've told many people that this is my favorite view in our area. Most have seen it from the the deck of Cedar Shore Resort. While this is a spectacular view, the best venue for this view is on a boat in the middle of the river. Ironically, I do not have photo of this view at my favorite time. The best time is when the sun has begun its descent behind the bluffs on the west side of the river casting a shadow on the water. The cliffs are still lit by the setting sun and are glowing in contrast to the deep blue of the water and the emerald green of the bluffs on the east side. This lasts about for only 12-15 minutes. I will have to capture that vista on pixels this coming summer!

 

 Any November, December, January Sunset from my Backyard

This is my favorite despite what I tell people! Those who visit us in the summer tell us how spectacular our sunsets are. They are right...kinda. While our summertime sunsets are great, our sunsets in the late fall into winter are the best. They are even better from our our backyard because the sun sets behind the bridge straight down river which gives us the most reflection possible. I am partial to the orange and red sunsets but the purple and yellow one are equally amazing.

I have learned over the years to identify when we will experience one of these breathtaking sunsets. We need a few clouds in the southwest sky later in the afternoon. The reflection in calm water adds to the splendor as does an ice covered river.

I literally have thousands of photographs of sunsets from my backyard. It took me a half hour to narrow them down to the six photos above. I can't help myself. When I see one of these glorious panoramas, I have to get a shot.

Follow me on Instagram (@DougKnust) for more #SDsunsets!

Update 2/15/2018: How about this one - absolutely untouched! November sunset from Amreican Creek Campground in Chamberlain.

Basking in the Sun

Our local paper, the Chamberlain-Oacoma Sun, as part of their "From Behind the Sidelines" series, featured a local automobile dealer in their October 14, 2015 issue. I was honored to be included with Chamberlain High School football announcer Donn DeBoer.

From the Sun:

DeBoer, Knust discuss what it's like being the 'Voice of the Cubs' 

There are voices that everyone recognizes and remembers - the voices of your mother and father, best friend, a son or daughter. For Cubs fans, there are two more that ring through clear as day: Donn DeBoer and Doug Knust. 

They've been dubbed “The Voice of the Cubs" for their game and other school function announcing, which when added together racks up over 30 years of talking, yelling and cheering. 

"It's been a longtime... I guess it’s a good thing I like to hear myself talk," joked DeBoer, who has announced Cub football games for approximately a decade. He’s also dabbled in basketball, track, the prom grand march and other school events whenever he's requested. 

All that talking has made his voice recognizable - even to strangers he doesn’t even know. 

“Sometimes it’s as if I can’t all anyone on the phone without them already knowing whoit is before I tell them,” said DeBoer. “There’s no disguising this voice." 

Knust keeps his vocal chords ready as well and calls basketball games during the winter season. He's been a Cub announcer at the Armory – the very same gym that he himself used to play in as a Chamberlain High School student while his father’s voice rang through the speakers for close to 23 years. He said  it seems like just the other day he started taking over the announcing duties from his father, Harry. It’s only when he starts doing the math that time is put into perspective. 

“I remember sitting with my dad as he was announcing games for the Cubs - probably hitting him up for a quarter for some popcorn or whatever it was I wanted," said Knust, smiling at the memory. "It's been pretty special." 

It's fitting the two men who perform the Cub announcing have voices with hear like qualities. Each has a deeper voice and one that can roar when necessary, like when there's Cub touchdown or the winning shot for the home team just went swish. Although part of the art of announcing is that announcers are supposed to show neutrality to both teams. But, diehard Cub fans like DeBoer and Knust say that rule doesn't apply to them. 

"I'm definitely a ‘homer.' I want my home team to win and get excited when we do," said Knust, who estimates he's called at least 450 basketball games for the Cubs. "Because it's those home games that are special for athletes, parents, students, and so on. The bleachers are packed. The band is playing. The fans are roaring. This all added together creates the perfect storm for announcers. They feed off that energy and get excited - especially when a win is in reach." 

"Like those Homecoming games - now those are the games you really want to win," said DeBoer. "You can't help it. Your voice gets louder and louder and more excited when home team does something good." 

But announcing is more than just running a play-by-play of the court or field. Every year athletes come and go and it seems like just as they start getting a handle on the athletes' names, the students graduate and new students step-up in their place. It's a never-ending cycle. But, both Knust and DeBoer admit that, for them, it's a bit easier than it looks because both are very active in the community and other Cub events. But, there's always the visiting team that comes with its own, unfamiliar athletes and a few last names that can trip-up even the greatest speakers who can conquer anything during a battle of linguistics. 

"Sometimes you have to get out your phonetics on the tricky ones," said Knust. There's also the aspect of time. It seems to slip by so quickly and both men put in hours and hours during their respective seasons. Although Knust owns Harry K's Chevrolet in Chamberlain and Winner and DeBoer works at Sanford Chamberlain Medical Center, the two don't seem to mind putting in a second shift for the Cubs. It's that and several other traits that make them so important to the Cubs. 

"One thing that both Donn and Doug bring to the events is a great deal of enthusiasm for the Cubs. They are truly Cub Fans. This enthusiasm spills over to the crowd and helps create the atmosphere that I envision our venues having during the events," said CSD Athletic Director Todd Palmer. "The second thing that both bring to the table is knowledge of the game. They help the crowd understand what is going on during the contest by explaining to them officials signals, giving stats out at half time, etc."Palmer said they also bring professionalism to the game and always are there to help out whether it's announcing or another task. 

"They are two individuals that I can count on thus taking that specific stress off of me," said Palmer. 

Neither man does it for the recognition, nor do they do it for the money. Rather, the two fanatics of football and basketball say they do it for other reasons. 

"It keeps me young," said DeBoer. 

"And really why wouldn't I keep doing it?" said Knust. "I've got the best seat in the house."

As the article mentions, I took over for my father. He was the original Cubs basketball announcer and started in 1963. I succeeded him in 1992. That's over 52 years of Knusts at the microphone announcing Cubs games.

I've enjoyed it immensely and am grateful to Sun editor Hannah Ruhlman for her thoughtful article.

Broken Hearted

It was a typical Friday afternoon in August at Harry K Chevrolet-Buick. I was in the showroom considering the prospect for a couple cars deals that afternoon and whether or not the wind would lend itself to an opportunity to go sailing that evening. Our son, Alex, was coming home for the weekend so we were looking forward to some sailing, perhaps some kayaking, perhaps some smoked mammal flesh and a generally fun weekend.

As I stood in the showroom, I had a feeling like I had eaten something but could not completely swallow it; like it was lodged in the bottom of my esophagus. I was a little lightheaded which I attributed to the fact that I had pretty much skipped breakfast and had only eaten a couple pieces of cheese for lunch.

The light headed feeling was not uncommon if I ate a late lunch. A morning bicycle ride would often tap me out but a few carbs would always snap me right out of it. I had gone on a 15-mile bicycle ride that morning so I thought my blood sugar might be a bit low. With that in mind, I headed to the vending machine for the quick fix of a Planters Peanut Bar.

When the peanut bar didn't have the intended effect, I started to think that perhaps I was dehydrated. I always take a gallon cooler of water to work and drink it through the day and I decided that I hadn't hit the water hard enough yet that day. I took a couple of long pulls on the water and waited for it to work its magic.

But it didn't. My sales manager was in my office and I told him I didn't really feel well. He offered an aspirin. Though I never considered it to be a real possibility, I thought that an aspirin would be a good idea in case I was having some kind of heart issue. He got me one and I took it immediately.

Shortly thereafter, I felt really lightheaded; I thought I was going to the floor for a moment. I was sweaty and my color was not good (so I was told). By now, my wife, Judy, was in my office and I told her that I needed to go to the hospital. She said she would start the car and get it cooled off. I told her not to bother, I needed to get to the hospital.

While on the way to the hospital, my lightheadedness subsided somewhat. I still felt some discomfort in my chest but it felt better as well. But I knew something was wrong.

Within five minutes of arriving at Sanford Chamberlain Hospital, I was hooked up to the EKG and five minutes later, I was diagnosed as being in the process of a heart attack.

Me, a fifty four year old man in excellent health having a heart attack? No way! The look on Judy's face when they said this was complete disbelief. Many mornings in the colder months start with me on my trainer and Judy on the treadmill with Fox News on the TV for 35-45 minutes.

I am a healthy guy. I ride my bicycle 4-5 times a week - if not outside then on my trainer in the basement. I lift weights twice a week. I golf, kayak, hunt and am very active.

We try to eat right. Though we travel some and dine out one or twice a week in the summer, our diet is pretty good. I'm probably 10-12 pounds over my ideal weight but I am conscious of that and am always striving to get there. I don't eat a perfect healthy diet but, again, I am conscious of my diet and try to eat well.

I have a few cocktails on the weekend and a glass of wine with dinner once a week but there are some who would suggest that wine works in the favor of my heart. I would consider myself healthier than most and quite active for my age.

So to say that I was surprised when I had a heart attack on August 7, 2015 at work would be more than an understatement and none of the statements above meant anything as I lay in the hospital at that moment.

Working in my favor was the fact that we were at the hospital within 30 minutes of my initial symptoms. Within minutes they were on the phone with the cardiology folks in Sioux Falls. They gave me some nitroglycerin and injected tPA clot buster. They summoned the airplane from Sioux Falls.

Let me just say right here that I received first class, professional care from everyone at Sanford Chamberlain Hospital. I feel extremely fortunate that those folks were there. Kala Shepherd, CNP, was absolutely terrific. She made great decisions and was in touch with the cardiology department in Sioux Falls immediately.

The King Air fixed wing aircraft from Sioux Falls arrived about 60-75 minutes after the initial diagnosis of "cardio event". I took an ambulance ride to the airport where they loaded me into the Sanford Hospital aircraft. We were on the ground in Sioux Falls forty five minutes later.

While flying to Sioux Falls though, my symptoms started to subside. I no longer felt the discomfort in my chest and was no longer light headed. I figured when I got to Sioux Falls that I would probably have a few tests, a lecture on lifestyle changes, and then have to wait for Judy (who decided to drive with Sarah) to take me home.

I was transferred into an ambulance at the airport. The trip to the hospital was complete with lights and sirens. I told the ambulance guys that I'd probably come to Sioux Falls more often if I could avoid traffic and SF drivers like that all the time.

When I arrived, they were waiting for me in the cath lab like a pack of hyenas with bibs on and forks in both hands! They went right to work on me and in what seemed like 20-30 minutes, they inserted a stent in my right coronary artery (which was 95%) blocked and put a intra-aortic baloon pump in my heart. No other major arteries were blocked.

The stent went in through my right wrist and the pump went in through my right femoral artery. They inserted the pump because my blood pressure was low. They also informed me that the clot buster drug administered in Chamberlain was unsuccessful.

I was in a cardiac care room shortly thereafter. It was about 6:45 pm. My first symptoms occurred shortly after 2:00 pm. It was an unbelievable, life changing sequence of events that happened in less than five hours.

The next 26 hours were miserable as I had to lie flat on my back because of the pump in my heart. Not only could I not sleep on my back, but the pump in my heart gave me a weird sensation that distracted my sleep. It was like my stomach was continuously gurgling. By Saturday morning, I was exhausted.

Saturday mid-morning, the nurses brought in a fan and rolled me on my side (slightly) and I was able to sleep for a couple hours. I felt a lot better after that.

They took the pump out about 2:00 pm on Saturday. Because they perforate the femoral artery to insert the pump, it is important to ensure that the artery does not bleed. To do this, pressure has to be applied to the wound; a lot of pressure. The device they used for this has a strap that goes around the waist and can apply as much pressure directly to the wound as needed. I received a good amount of pressure for a couple hours and by the time they changed to a lesser pressure device, I was in pain.

About 8:00 pm on Saturday evening, I was able to get up and walk around (after the catheter came out - YIKES!!!). That is the point at which I started feeling better. I went for a walk around the hall a few times. I slept well Saturday evening.

On Sunday I was very active. I walked 2 miles in the hall. I think I looked like a caged lion to the nursing staff. I don't think it was a common occurrence for the cardio patients to be that active. The underlying strength of my heart proved to be a real advantage throughout this entire ordeal.

I had many calls and visits from friends on Sunday. I was reminded how fortunate I am to have a wonderful wife, two great daughters and two great sons. Judy and I are so lucky to have so many wonderful friends both far and near!

I knew I would get discharged on Monday. So after seeing the cardio rehab specialist, the customer service rep, the doctor's CNP, the doctor and what seemed like a dozen others, I got to leave at about 1:30 pm on Monday.

I had plans to take a golf trip (annual trip with friends) the following week and had been "taking the temperature" of each person I saw whether they thought that was still possible. Everyone I had asked thought I would be able to go but when the doctor told me I just needed to "listen to my body" if I went, I was elated.

So what's next? The cardio rehab lady suggested that my greatest risk factors were stress and family history. My Dad had a quadruple bypass in 1988 and had numerous stents put in after that. I always attributed his condition to his poor management of diabetes and complete lack of exercise. Apparently he had some genes working against him that are now working against me.

We all have stress and we all handle it in different ways. Having 40 employees and three businesses might add a bit more stress to my life than some others, but I need to learn to deal with it better. I will be focused on doing that.

But what I learned (was reminded of!) most directly is that EVERY day is a gift. We should not take it for granted and we should enjoy it and make the most of it.

So the next time you see me, remind me of that! And I will probably remind you right back!