#1,066: The Snow Shoveling Queen of Eau Claire, Wisc.

This coming Wednesday, February 4, 2026, marks precisely 21 years since I posted my first blog essay, entitled As Dad Used to Say. Back in 2005, as a handful of you will recall, the name of the blog was Beating the Bushes - a none-too-witty double-entendre. Looking back to that first post, political reality seems to have been one heck of a lot less perilous and a tad more urbane, than it is today. And while this observation is undoubtedly true, that first blog did end with a kvetch that seems more appropriate for 2026: Unless we, the loyal opposition, mount a serious unified campaign in both 2006 and 2008, America is going to become a second-rate nation. It’s time to begin beating the Bushes . . .

21 years ago, Beating the Bushes (not to be renamed The K.F. Stone Weekly until the election of Barack Obama in 2008) started with less than a hundred readers, made up mostly of family and students at a couple of South Florida universities. Over the years, I am humbled to report, its readership has grown, if not like Topsy, then most pleasantly. Today, there are thousands of readers located on several continents. Back in 2005, the vast majority of readers agreed with just about anything I wrote. And while that might have been somewhat OK for my ego, it didn’t make my work all that challenging. With growth in readership came folks who took deeply partisan - not to mention occasionally brutal - umbrage at my opinions and point of view. And while I have yet to become completely inured to be called a "fool,” "idiot” or “f . . . ing libtard,” it does keep my juices flowing.

Among my favorite readers (of both this blog and its companion, Tales From Hollywood & Vine, which began life about a decade ago), there is a delightful woman up in Eau Claire, Wisconsin who, for the sake of privacy, I will simply refer to as Barbara. Originally from an Albanian family up in snowy, snowy Buffalo, Barbara has lived in the same house in snowy, snowy Eau Claire for half-a-century. Prior to retiring from gainful employment, Barbara specialized in TESOL: Teaching English to Students of Other Languages. She got her break as a writer by nationally publishing educational materials on the subject. This led to her writing essays, reminiscences of growing up in Buffalo (“The City of Good Neighbors”), the daughter of recently-arrived immigrants from Albania, and poetry. As an adult, she married, moved to Eau Claire, raised a family, became politically active (she’s a consistent, contentious progressive) and took to riding a bicycle all over town. And then there was all the snow shoveling . . .

As of 2024, Eau Claire, Wisconsin consists of 72,331 hearty souls. And hearty - not to mention both healthy and helpful - they must be. Sitting at the confluence of the Eau Claire and Chippewa rivers it is a really cold, snowy place. The average annual temperature is only 46 F; its average annual snowfall is more than 55.5”, reaching an average depth of more than a foot. Needless to say, for much of the year the city’s streets, parks and residential areas are encrusted in white. In Barbara’s neighborhood, the city is responsible for clearing enough of the snow in the residential areas to make it possible for people to get their cars onto the roadway and get to work . . . or the grocery store. What they are largely not responsible for are the sidewalks.

Years ago, Barbara decided that she would take it upon herself to do that which the city could not (or would not) do: shovel the sidewalks around her house. Since she lives on a corner lot, that meant a lot of shoveling. And of course, that also meant shoveling nearly every day during Eau Claire’s long, long winter. Over the course of time, she started clearing the sidewalks further away from her property . . . and eventually across the street. Before too long, she became a fixture; an elderly woman with long hair, bundled up to the 9s, brandishing a shovel with an 18-inch blade, clearing the sidewalks from one side of the neighborhood to another.

And mind you, today, this shovel queen/cum/writer/poet/bicycling enthusiast par excellent is 85 years young!

Not too long ago, the City of Eau Claire decided to accept nominations for the “Shoveler of the Year.” Intrigued, Barbara entered the contest and, much to her amazement, won. In her application for the contest, Barbara wrote: “I am the person who shovels this area and my lovely house, which I take pride in owning. My house is on a corner, so it has two streets to shovel, and I put de-icer on icy spots. Plus, I always shovel the corner curbs that have snow piled high from City plows, so pedestrians can cross at corner walkways.” As the senior queen shoveler, she was interviewed by the local press and even appeared on the evening news. In her weekly posting, Eau Claire City Manager Stephanie Hirsch noted: Barbara shared that she wants to be sure that people coming and going to the nearby hospital and elementary school can walk safely and comfortably, without having to go through slush. Barbara said that she grew up in Buffalo, New York (which gets even more snow!), and she treasured the neighborhood mindset of everybody shoveling. She said she learned growing up to take care of her property and neighborhood. You are amazing and inspiring! Thank you Barbara!!

Of late, the nation has learned the ways of neighborliness which are part and parcel of life in Minneapolis . . . like Eau Claire, a place of constant cold and snow. In places with such climates - and I must include Traverse City, Michigan, the current home of Pete and Chasten Buttigieg and their children - it is really, truly the norm for people to come out and help one another. Living with the potential - and reality - of extreme isolation during near sub-arctic winters has a tendency to bring out the best in people; to make sure their neighbors have both heat and food in the house . . . a ride to the doctor . . . the knowledge that they are not alone. People like Barbara . . . who go above and beyond . . . remind us that there are still good, feeling, tender folks out there who still give a damn about their neighbors. At such a time as this, it is a delightful tonic.

But even more, my friend, fellow activist and constant reader Barbara shows that combining the proper attitude with energy (as well as the fortune of inheriting good genes), helps make that old saw about “Growing older is mandatory; growing up optional,” more real than one can imagine.

I congratulate you, my friend on your victory, and wish you more years of writing and reading, of protesting and poeticizing, of biking and beaming.

Let me close with my favorite of your poems, Hope for Dummies, which sums up your incredible philosophy of life in a mere 10 lines:

Hope for Dummies

It would be easy to say
take two aspirin today
and when you wake up
it will all be okay.

But, as everyone knows
that ain’t how it goes.

Treasure this day.
Never give up.
Imagine what’s lost
if Hope slips away?

You go girl! Keep on shoveling . . .