Pacing Dakota

Pacing Dakota is an anthology of essays contemplating the history and culture of the Great Plains of North America. Historian Thomas Isern shares his ruminations on prairie churches, forgotten artifacts, and little-known stories connected to the land and the generations who have called it home. ‘The eradication of wild buffalo from the Great Plains was symbolic of something larger: the killing off of most all large wild animals that happened with settlement of the prairies by farmers and ranchers. The large herbivores were killed off for eating; the large predators were killed off because they were incompatible with livestock husbandry.’ A handful of black-and-white photographs and an index enhance this unique blend of historical scholarship, outdoors enthusiasm, culinary appreciation, cherished memories, and more. Pacing Dakota is highly recommended for both public library collections and personal reading lists. –The American History Shelf

Isern’s voice should be familiar; he regularly offers up “Plains Folk: on North Dakota’s Prairie Public Radio. In Pacing Dakota, you cannot hear the actual timbre of his voice, but if you concentrate, you certainly can gain the conversational style, the friendly asides, the droll humor, and the intense affection Isern has for his adopted home state.

Pacing Dakota is a grassroots celebration of North Dakota, with an occasional nod to Saskatchewan and South Dakota, in which Isern spins his narratives of German-Russian pastries, barn dances, semi-reformed prostitutes, the power of a church’s tolling bells, the resurrection of barns, and the making of memories. The point of it all is the celebration of one’s fellows and the ability of a good conversation “to invest the land with story, make a place of it, a work that is never finished…From the countless stories, sources first of mere delight, come certain emergences, patterns that constitute understandings, maybe even a grain of wisdom. We should all live so long” (72).

Pacing Dakota is laden with sensory stimulants. You can hear the men’s quartet at Canaan Moravian Brethren Church on Christmas Eve as easily as you can see its sanctuary illuminated by flickering candlelight. You can taste the sauerkraut at St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Barnes County, as well as the pickled herring, hard Christmas chocolates, and ribbon candies sold by Pisek’s J-Mart. If these do not stir the senses, perhaps the restoration of a German-Russian homestead in Dunn County can do the job. In an effort at authenticity, volunteers from Preservation North Dakota and Isern’s classes plastered the homestead’s walls with fresh manure from the cattle of the nearby North Dakota State University ranch. While the consultant scoffed, a local who had grown up on the Hutmacher farm approved of the composition, disagreeing only on the method of mixing the muck.

The effort to engage the reader’s mind with these experiences proves rewarding. As Isern notes, while a visit to St. Demetrius Ukrainian Catholic Church (Billings County) carried the potential for a long and incomprehensible morning, the sights, sounds, smells, and sheer emotion of the service enlivened him and opened him to continue his exploration of North Dakota. It is something we all ought to find ourselves open to enjoying.

Ultimately, Isern encourages the interpretation of personal experiences. For too long, in his assessment, North Dakotans have permitted themselves to be defined, perhaps even denigrated, from the outside. It is time to forego external validation “not befitting North Dakota in the twenty-first century.” Rather, he asserts, “We can look around and decide for ourselves” (218).

Sounds like a good idea. Observe the world around you; relish the sensory; define yourself on your own terms.

Kimberly K. Porter, University of North Dakota –Montana: The Magazine of Western History, Spring 2021