Paying proper homage.

I’m impressed. By this guy. Frederic Baraga. Though I never knew him. Instead, I heard of him. While exploring the north shore of Lake Superior. He was a priest and missionary. Lived from 1797 to 1868.  Was out. Canoeing on Lake Superior. When a terrible storm hit.  Looked like he was a goner.  For sure. When. By an act of Providence. He was washed ashore. On sand bar.  At the mouth of the Cross River. Baraga took that as a call.  To stick around. And to minister. For most of his life.  To the Ottawa and Ojibwe native tribes. Stuck it out. Even in the severe winters. Plodding around. On snowshoes. Obviously he fell in love.  With the waterfalls. With the river. With Lake Superior. Baraga built a wooden cross. In 1846. On the site. Where he was saved.  Now. It’s been replaced. By a sturdy granite cross. That was visited last week. Not only by me and my true love Cristina. But by a flock of Canadian geese.  Indeed, a delight. We all paid homage. To the stellar memory of Father Baraga. --Jim Broede