Now this is not quite Dassel although Dassel township boarders Kingston’s’ so I am taking a liberty here.
A few years ago, I met a wonderful gentleman named Oscar, who lived on his family’s farm along the Crow river in his youth. His best friend, Lloyd, lived across the river, also on his family’s farm.
I have always remembered their tales, about their youth, their time away in the service, and how they stayed with their mothers on their farms until both mothers passed. They then both stayed on the farms alone until they reached an age that they needed to move to a more careful environment.
As youngsters during the winter, they visited by crossing the frozen river, but summer visits were more complicated. They would need to canoe across or go the long way around to the road and across the main bridge.
They talked of a bridge their fathers had built across the river to get back and forth to visit one another. He said it was just a small bridge that made travel easier. I was fascinated, and have always remembered, my mind creating a romantic fantasy about what that bridge looked like and the vision of two young boys traveling across the Crow River in a time past.
While looking though pictures today I came across one that totally floored me. The Kingston footbridge.
Now I don’t know is this is the same bridge, but it certainly fits my perceived image.
When history meets the present in such a visual manner I am enchanted. So, you also can now know the tale of the footbridge across the Crow River and two young boys growing up along the moving waters of our area’s past.
Small hand-built bridge across the Crow River.