Kirby Brandhagen, Cavalier, N.D., has contributed a number of his poems to this column over the years. But this time he writes because he enjoyed a “Neighbors” column about the Fargo places where the teenagers used to hang out.
“That column reminded me that I had some old paper bags from one of those hangouts back then,” he writes.
The illustration on one of those bags is shown here. Maybe someone can remind Kirby and “Neighbors” which place gave these out.
Oink Joint Road
Sometime ago, “Neighbors” carried stories about the road near Wadena, Minn., which was called Oink Joint Road.
That brought two notes about it.
Janet Wright, Bluffton, Minn., wrote that her nephew, Dan Lorentz, raises many pigs along that road. And the pigs, of course, go “oink, oink.”
Dan is Arynn Lorentz’ grandpa, and he named the road, Arynn, who lives where he lived on that road, writes.
“The ‘Oink’ was for the pig farm, and the ‘Joint’ was for the body shop, both of which he owned,” she writes.
And there you have the story of the Oink Joint Road.
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