Amid a half-century of athletics involvement in Two Harbors, Minnesota, he never scored a touchdown on the gridiron, a goal on the ice, or field goal on the court. Never won a diving competition, golf tournament, or 100-yard dash. He was never the head coach of a varsity athletic team. The Lake County Chronicle never touted his athletic exploits.
Despite all of this, this sports and outdoors enthusiast has lived a sporting life as quintessential to northern Minnesota as any Two Harbors citizen.
Ever.
Two generations before he was born in 1943, a pair of families climbed the gangways to board steamships–one in Finland, the other in Yugoslavia. They sought a new life—new opportunities, in a new world. Conceivably, they could have gone anywhere—other European countries, Canada, even Australia. Like millions of others, the destination of dreams for these families was America. A grueling week of rolling with the ocean’s rhythms, shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands, culminated in the Upper Bay of the Hudson River.
The Statue of Liberty.
Ellis Island.
America.
Relieved to have completed the voyage, many of these pioneers didn’t necessarily love what they saw on the ground on the southern tip of Manhattan. They longed for something different. Something that felt more like…home.
Crossing the ocean wasn’t enough. Crossing the country was next.
They’d arrive in Pittsburgh. Not here; let’s go further.
Cleveland. Keep the bags packed.
Detroit. Um, no.
Chicago. Too crowded.
St. Paul, Minnesota. This feels better.
“Excuse me, sir; we are the Kallios. We heard about a place in this state of Minnesota where there is plenty of logging, mining, fishing, wildlife, and solitude. Also, not too many people. Can you tell us where that place is?”
“Sure, I believe you’re thinking of Embarrass, Minnesota.”
“Where exactly is that?”
“Well, it’s quite far from here. More than 200 miles up north. I’ve never even been there. I’m not sure you’d want to put your family through that trip.”
“Sir, we’ve traveled across the ocean from Finland, then 1,300 miles by land from New York. We stopped in Pittsburgh, then Hancock, Michigan. We think we can go a bit further. Can you tell us anything else about this place of which you speak?”
“Well, up north, it’s even colder than here.”
“That sounds like the perfect place for us to build a sauna beside a lake or river. Thank you for the information. We will leave in the morning.”
Before the gentleman could ask what a sauna is, the family had already moved along.
A week later, the gentleman would have almost the same conversation with the Jamnick family from Yugoslavia. There was one minor change.
“When you get to the town named Embarrass, travel north for 16 miles to a place called Soudan. That will get you a little closer to a lake you might like. It’s called Lake Vermilion.”
“Good fishing?”
“From what I hear, the best”.
“Thank you, sir. We will leave in the morning.”
“Before you go, have you ever heard of a sauna?”
“A what?”
“A sauna. A guy from Finland was here last week talking about the nice sauna he wanted to build. Perhaps your paths will cross in Embarrass and get to experience it. I think it might be some sort of boat.”
The Early Years
Fred Kallio was born June 25, 1943 to Sigurd and Ailie Kallio. A childhood of outdoor exploration among the cows and chickens on a 40-acre plot. A two-story, log home. Two rooms upstairs. Two rooms downstairs.
Sigurd, born in Hancock, Michigan was a logger—a handy occupation to keep the wood stove and sauna warm. Ailie, born in Pittsburgh, looked after the farm animals.
Both looked after Freddie.
Oh, and Evelyn…and Eugene…and Kenneth…and Ruth, Dale and Bob. Most born roughly 18-months apart, Freddie was the sixth of seven children. Freddie laughed, “There was no television back then. My parents did indeed find something else to do.”
Four rooms. Nine family members.
Cozy.
Back: Ken - Eugene - EvelynFront: Bob - Fred - Ruth
Taken before 1948 - Dale wasn't born yet
Needless to say, Fred spent a lot of time outdoors—a trait that continues to this day as he is often seen on the golf course, in the BWCA, at the boat landing, or a sporting event.
Bathing was done in the sauna. Saturday nights. Wednesday nights. Hot sauna followed by the bi-weekly change of underwear for the kids. Finnish people are known for their love of the sauna culture. On a daily basis, Fred carries the heritage forward. Yes, to this day–every, single night.
“Nowadays, every place I go has a sauna, otherwise I really don’t go there, said Kallio.”
Life in Embarrass was filled with adventure, but plenty of challenges. The was no electricity at the homestead in Embarrass. No indoor plumbing.
January. Coldest locale in America. Subzero temps. Nature calls. One person in the outhouse. Up to eight others standing in line, trying to ignore the trickling sound of the nearby stream flowing over the icy rocks.
By all accounts, family life in Embarrass was harmonious. It had to be. They needed each other. A pivot from any topic to Sigurd and Ailie was met with reverential tones from Fred and his younger brother, Dale.
Good parents. Hard workers. Appreciated.
The siblings got along well too, as Fred stated, “my oldest sister, Evelyn, looked after me while my parents worked hard to provide for us.” Dale recalled that he and Fred were both hard workers and always had a good, non-competitive, fun-loving relationship.
The five-year age difference between Fred and Dale would have been filled by a sister, but she didn’t survive birth. Living remotely as they did, fires were nearly impossible to contain. One destroyed a garage, car and tractor. The second—when Fred was 13, took everything but their sauna.
Sigurd and a few friends built a small, temporary building for him and Ailie to live in. Bunks were constructed in the sauna where the kids would reside for a year. Meanwhile, a new house was built less than a mile away on a second 40-acre plot the family owned. Fred must have paid close attention. With the help of his brother, Bob, he would later build his house in Two Harbors, followed by a cabin on the shore of Lake Vermilion.
The family faced tragedy in 1959—Fred’s junior year in high school, when Sigurd died at age 49 of a heart attack. Ailie had always looked after the farm and the kids. She now had to find a source of income outside the homestead. Dale described her as “very kind—religious—she regularly met with ladies in the neighborhood—they had their coffee socials, so to speak. She made a lot of clothing for the kids—sweaters, mittens, socks.”
Ailie died of diabetes in 1992 at age 77.
Dale—now 72, was an elementary school teacher in Proctor for 40 years, lives in Thompson Township, near Cloquet. One brother lives in Embarrass. A sister lives by Lake Vermilion. Another brother lives by Giant’s Ridge (Biwabik). Nephews have other properties in the area and the family reunites annually during hunting season.
Preserved Buildings in Embarrass
Writing His Story
Cursive writing has been Fred’s method for documenting his memories for family. In this excerpt:
“We built shacks in the woods and spent lots of time in them. We often fell asleep in our bunks and mom would have to come get us home. The river near our farm had a deep hole on a bend where we would swim in the summer and build skating rinks in the winter. We always entertained ourselves.”
Per Fred’s cursive above, the Kallio kids and their neighbors made their own fun.
“In the summer, we played lots of games. There were 3 other families within a quarter mile with 7 total kids. We had enough friends to play games. Softball and baseball were played in the cow pasture. Often cow patties were the bases. Other games were kickball, kick the can, hide and seek, captain may I, anti-anti over, marbles, hopscotch, and horseshoes.”
“We built our own toys, including sling shots, arrow guns, rubber guns, trucks, dozers, wagons, sleds, bow and arrows, and many others. We had no store-bought toys. We played lots of cards. The most popular was canasta.”
Fun and Games
The kids also spent plenty of time playing basketball and other games in the loft of their barn. Fred’s favorite sport was basketball.
“We practiced shooting baskets all year—even in the winter when we’d wear leather mits. We had a barn—once we got the hay out of there, we had the upstairs to play basketball and other games in. There were four families in the neighborhood and those kids would come over. There were kids my age—we’d get together and have some rough games.”
Dale agreed. “We had a neighborhood barn which had a basket on it and everybody from the neighborhood was up there two or three times a week. The competition was always there—we liked to compete, but it was mostly laughter if someone fouled or pushed you. We even had a leather ball, for goodness sakes. That was pretty nice.”
Fred continued, “We made our own fun. We’d build shacks out in the woods out of logs. We made our own toys. Sling shots, rubber guns—you name it, we made it.”
How?
“Practice and error. You’d have an idea—you’d see something, then think—we should have something like that, and we made our own.”
The homestead was adjacent to the Embarrass River. Swimming in the summer. Frozen in the winter. A hockey player’s dream. Brother Dale told the story of the gang playing hockey on the river.
“There was a wide spot on the river. We’d swim there in the summer. In the winter, we’d play hockey. When there was snow on the ice, it might take us several hours to clear it before we could play. We’d typically have a bonfire nearby too. Then it would snow overnight, and we’d be right back out there in the morning with our shovels. One day, my father was showing the boys how to raise the puck and he hit Freddie right in the nose. That’s how Fred ended up with the crooked nose.”
Perhaps we now understand why Fred opted for football, basketball, baseball, and track & field over hockey.
Never one to boast, but if you dig deep enough into his past, you will find veins of warranted pride. Playing in the Northern St, Louis County Conference against teams from Angora, Cook, Cherry and Orr, Kallio earned All-Conference honors in football, mostly due to his fierce play as a 135-pound linebacker. Fred also earned a reputation as a team leader and competitor in basketball, and as an overachiever in track & field.
“My most memorable sports moment is non-memorable. I played the second half of a football game with a concussion. When the game was over, I had to ask my teammates who won. I had no idea what happened—and I was the quarterback,” said Freddie.
As a junior, Fred was a member of what was considered best-ever basketball team for Embarrass. “We had three seniors who were 6’3” 6’2” and 6’1.” That was uncommon back in those days in such a small town. In ’61 we weren’t quite as good after we lost those three big guys. I was really good on defense. In fact, a kid from Gilbert who went to Marquette – averaged around 20 pts per game for Gilbert, but I held him to five or six. I was the MVP of the team during my senior year in 1961.”
A pole vaulter in track, Fred and his brothers would practice at home with poles made from harvested balsam.
“When I got into high school, I was able to take the Swedish steel pole home and as a Senior, I broke the county record when I went over 10 feet 7 inches. I could also high-jump higher than myself—I could high jump 5 foot 6 inches.
Freddie stands 5 foot 5 inches tall.
“When I went to junior college in Ely, the coach got me a fiberglass pole towards the end of the season. I only got to use it a few times but I got over 12 feet with it. It made a big difference.”
“In baseball, I was just a singles and doubles hitter. Played second base and occasional catcher. I was nothing special in baseball but it was fun.”
“At one time, we had a quarter-mile, cinder track in Embarrass. We had some good track teams. We were known as the “Flying Fins.” From 1952 thru 1954, Embarrass was second, third and 7th in the single-class state tournament despite having only 33 kids in the graduating class.”
Not much is left of his sporting life in Embarrass. The school was torn down. The old fields are gone.
Leaving the Nest
Following high school, Fred secured well-paying electrical work for power companies but had been laid off. Knowing that Freddie had some downtime, his neighbor asked Fred if he’d like to tag along on a drive to Ely. The neighbor’s intention was to register for classes at Ely Junior College—now known as Vermilion Community College. Moments later, the road trip commenced.
It was a nice drive. Pine and birch trees. Lakes and rivers. They saw a few deer. Took care of business at Ely JC, stopped for lunch, then drove back to Embarrass. It was a big day for Fred’s neighbor. He was now registered to go to college.
Much to Fred’s surprise, Fred was registered too.
“I went to college by accident,” Fred said.
Fred woke up that morning with no intention of either driving to Ely. or going to college. His buddy convinced him to do both.
Life comes at you fast.
The dean asked, “what are you going to take up?” and I said “I really don’t know, I’m just coming to college.”
“During the first half-quarter, I was going to quit, it just wasn’t for me. But my cousin told me that since I had already paid for it–$90 for 15 credits, I should at least finish the quarter. And I did–I just kind of learned to get along in college and it became gratifying.”
During his freshman year at Ely JC, the accidental student was a daily commuter from Embarrass, along with his buddy and other friends. During his second year, Fred lived away from home for the first time when he rented an upstairs apartment in the home of an elderly woman in Ely.
While at Ely JC, he played football and one year of basketball and track. Their conference included junior colleges in Hibbing, Virginia and Grand Rapids (Itasca).
“In football, we were known as the Iron Men because we didn’t have enough players to practice full offense against a full defense. I think the only touchdown we made all year was when I played quarterback. Our main QB was hurt and we scored a touchdown that game.”
“We had some good basketball teams. Tower had a good high school team the year before and several of those guys came to Ely Junior College. I remember one game when Leonard Vessel and I combined for 50 points.”
“Leonard had 49.”
After two years in Ely, Fred moved on to Bemidji State College.
His industrious streak was in full-force while pursuing his teaching degree. Attending classes Monday thru Friday. Tending bar in Virgina on Friday and Saturday nights. Hauling pulpwood near Embarrass during the day on weekends.
“There were some weekends when I didn’t get too many hours of sleep. We carpooled so I probably only had to drive once a month. Bemidji was fine. We did a little partying but other than that we just did our assignments, then got out of there on Friday night, then drove back across the Iron Range on Sunday for another week of school.”
Boy Meets Girl
Summer nights in a small town. Before the advent of video games and cable television. A few kids here. A few more there. Boys with boys. Girls with girls. Evasive maneuvers. Feigned interest. Hide & seek. Just a game. Eventually a convergence. Adolescent style.
Fred Kallio and Nancy Jamnick played this game on the quiet streets of Soudan. How quiet? This wasn’t even a one-stoplight town. It was a one store town–The Soudan Store. All evasive maneuvers eventually boomeranged to the store.
Boys met girls. Fred met Nancy.
The year was 1964. Fred and Nancy agree on the year. The rest of the details are in dispute.
Fred’s version: “My buddies and I used to carouse all over. We’d drive around to different towns, drive the mains, toot the horns & whatever. I met Nancy in ’64. I was a sophomore in college. I met her at the garbage dump.”
Those of us who grew up in small towns in northern Minnesota know that the garbage dump wasn’t just a garbage dump. Fires would burn—usually old tires. That was fun to watch. Wildlife could often be seen foraging—black bears were the biggest attraction. Prior to the advent of cable television, “the dump” rivaled drive-in movie theaters for family fun. It was even somewhat romantic.
Not a lot romantic. Just somewhat.
According to Nancy, “We just met. In Tower, there was nowhere to meet. Us girls walked to the Soudan Store. There was nothing like Two Harbors where you can “beat a loop.” We very rarely went anywhere back then. Fred and I started dating and that’s the story. Nothing special.”
The garbage dump versus the Soudan Store.
The Hollywood script takes a setback. Fred didn’t ride up on his horse. Nancy wasn’t swept away.
Nothing special.
Unless you think it’s special for two small town kids—grandparents from Finland and Yugolsavia—steamship across the ocean—families randomly converging in Minnesota—their grandchildren crossing paths one night outside a quite, dusty general store—or romantic garbage dump, then staying together for 56 years.
What were the chances?
Nothing special?
Darn special. “The Notebook” caliber of special.
For the record, Nancy insists they didn’t meet at the dump. Hollywood doesn’t need to know.
A Career in the Classroom
With Bemidji in his rear-view mirror and a college diploma beside him, Fred looked forward to starting his teaching career. Opportunities were plentiful. Ely was the first choice but they already had too many men on the faculty. Friends encouraged him to pursue what they perceived to be the best teaching job on the Iron Range. Hibbing? No. Grand Rapids? No. Virginia? No.
“Section Thirty,” they said.
Section Thirty? More Minnesotans can name all 10,000 lakes than find Section Thirty on a map.
Fred’s friends were right.
“It was a two-room school and I had grades 4, 5 and 6. But I only had 15-17 kids total, with the three grades. The parents were really good. The two of us teachers would be invited to their homes for coffee and cake, and the kids were just wonderful. A few families had resorts on the lake. Others were involved in mining.”
Fred's Final Group of Students at Section Thirty
Section Thirty was a piviotal time in Fred and Nancy’s lives. The beginnings of a career. The beginnings of a marriage.The beginnings of a family. While he traveled four miles east of Ely to teach school each day, Nancy remained home in Ely caring for their children—Cari and Brian. Daughter Renee would later join the family—born in Two Harbors.
Nancy offered, “Fred was so good with all our kids. I’d go bowling at night and he’d have a tape recorder out and he’d tape the kids. In fact, we still have those tapes of them singing songs and nursery rhymes. When Renee was born, Brian was four. Brian would drag his books around the house—he loved to have us read to him. So, Fred taped books for Brian so he could take the book and recorder into his room and follow along on his own. It’s too bad we didn’t think of marketing these audio books. He was ahead of his time.”
Fred taught four years at Section Thirty. Since it was part of the Lake Superior School District, when the school was closed, he and Nancy were offered a choice. It had to be a difficult decision. After years of traversing from east to west and back along the Iron Range. The family now had options to move south. Not Florida south. Not Californinia south.
South to either Two Harbors or Silver Bay.
Smelt—yes, those tiny fish, played a tiny role in Kallio family destiny. Fred didn’t have much experience with either town, other than occasionally driving through Two Harbors on his way to go smelting—usually at Stewart River.
Two Harbors was the choice. It was a good move—except perhaps for that first year.
From the serenity of Section Thirty, to the chaos of the Minnehaha. Kallio’s first year as a 6th Grade teacher in Two Harbors was the worst year of teaching he ever had. “After having so many good kids and parents in Section Thirty, I had a bunch of hellions in my first year in Two Harbors. It was a helluva year,” Kallio recalled.
Any honest child of the ‘70s in Two Harbors could hardly question the legitimacy of Kallio’s claims. Children of resort owners were inherently different than children of commercial fishermen and railroaders. Two Harbors was, is, and always will be, a town of colorful characters. Their offspring could be a handful.
After that first year, Kallio moved to 4th grade, first at the Minnehaha then the John A Johnson before it was closed and everyone went back to the Minnehaha. His teaching peers were household names in this small town. Lang. Manlove. Keeler. Johnson. McGiverin.
The Kallios would eventually grow to appreciate their move to the north shore. In a typical Fred-move, they initially opted to live outside of the big town of 4,500 people. Fred and Nancy settled for the relative peace offered by a rental house on old Highway 61, near Ruberg’s dairy.
Open spaces. Serenity.
You can take the boy out of Embarrass, but you can’t take a childhood in Embarrass out of the boy.
Nancy recalled, “We were apprehensive about moving to Two Harbors. Up in Ely, we had friends and family all around. In Two Harbors, we didn’t know anyone. Small town cliques can be hard to join. We had one car. Cari was two years old and Brian just nine months.”
“Bowling helped me meet people. Margaret Hokanson invited me to join her bowling team. I had bowled in Ely, then kept going in Two Harbors. To this day, I’m still bowling but now it’s at Skyline Lanes in Duluth. It’s one night each week where we can eat, drink, converse, and if we bowl good, it’s a bonus. That’s the attitude you have to have with any recreational activity you participate in.”
The Kallios had dropped anchor.
The Boundary Waters Canoe Area
One constant in the Kallio family has been five decades of footprints left in the Boundary Waters–the ultimate Minnesota adventure.
Surprisingly, Fred didn’t fish until he met Nancy and her parents–Joe and Angela Jamnick. Courtship on a boat. Young, affable suitor at the bow. Future father-in-law at the helm. Father’s daughter reeling-in the Lake Vermilion walleyes from the middle bench. Nancy’s mother sitting by her side. A stern test for any young man. Joe and Angela soon approved. Fred not only landed a new wife, but also new fishing buddies.
Quite a catch.
Fred tells the story of his more than 100 trips into the BWCA:
“I’ve been going to the Boundary Waters for more than 50 years. I first started fishing when I met Nancy. We started going out onto the lake with her Mom and Dad. Then when I moved to Ely, I got involved with Marty Lakner, who became a good friend of mine and we’d often go into the Boundary Waters.”
In 1969, with Nancy Lakner and Nancy Kallio both pregnant, Fred and Marty took the ladies on a rather strenuous canoe, portage and camping trip from Lake 1, to Lake 2 and finally to Lake 3.
There’s no confirmation whether they also took the gals to the garbage dump.
Back to Fred, “My favorite place is Lake Insula—that’s where our family goes now. Nancy and I took Cari and Brian up there when they were four and two years old. We could use motors at that time with the square-stern canoe I had. We kept going there after they banned the motors in 1977. Then we started paddling.”
Fred at Lake Insula - BWCA - 2020 - Age 77
“Our first paddle trip was with two canoes—Nancy and I, with Cari, Brian and Renee. Cari was around 10 years old then. We’ve been going there ever since. In the early days, I did all the bullwork. I always tell people that taking my kids and nephews up there was the best investment I ever made. Now when we go, I can paddle but I can’t carry much. We get to the portage and they tell me, just go to the other side, we’ll carry everything—which they do.”
“We’ve had rainy weather and bugs! We get it all, but generally there are so many good days. You just have to be prepared for the bad. The equipment available to us now has certainly improved, like rain suits and mosquito nets.”
“I think they wonder when I’m going to stop going, but I’ll keep going as long as I can paddle and guide them. They are catching on pretty good though. We have such tremendous fishing up there. We’ve encountered some bad weather, canoeing in high wind can be tough.”
First BWCA Trip for Alec and Calvin:
Nick - Cari - Calvin - Alec - Fred -Brian - Hannah
“I recall the first time I brought my grandsons–Cari’s son Alec, and Brian’s son, Calvin, to Insula. We paddled against very strong winds—some of the toughest paddling we’ve ever had to do.”
Cari remembered it well. “It was my first time back there in about 20 years and it was the worst paddling we’ve ever had. During the last few hours of the trip, you literally could not stop paddling or you would go backwards. I wasn’t sure Alec or Cal—or I, would ever want to go back, but they love it!”
Brian concurred. “I give those boys a ton of credit. Their first trip was against those awful winds and it was cold and rainy much of the trip. Cal had a bug bite on his eyelid that swelled his eye shut. Yet, they both loved it and keep returning.”
Per Kevin Morsette, “Almost daily in the summer, I watch as Fred drives by my house on 8th Street pulling his boat between 9 and 10 am. He goes out onto Lake Superior before sunrise many mornings each week.”
While many live amid the great natural resources of northern Minnesota, Fred truly takes advantage of them. Fred has never been one to sit on the sidelines.
The Happy Campers: Renee, Abby, Cari, Fred, Brian, Alec, Calvin
The 16 mile trip from Lake 1 to Insula.
No planes, trains and automobiles on this route.
Just portaging between lakes. Paddle power.
It was a long trip from Finland and Yugolsavia to Kallio’s Sisu Ranch in northern Minnesota but don’t stop now–you’re almost there!
Fred's Footprints
Channels 3, 6, and 10 brought college and professional football games into the living rooms of future Agates. Backyards became imaginary Metropolitan Stadiums or Lambeau Fields. Dreams were stoked on five Friday nights each September and October when kids would pay 25 or 50 cents to watch the Agates play football in their maroon, white and gold uniforms–jersery numbers on the sides of their helmets, just like the Crimson Tide of Alabama.
“Someday, that will be me,” young Two Harborites hoped.
For many, the transition from youthful dreams to reality was cultivated by Fred Kallio. Your first helmet. Shoulder pads. Learning how to huddle, block, tackle–where to line up as a Linebacker or Guard. Getting knocked down. Overcoming fears. Overcoming embarrassment. Getting back up. Your first play against a team from another town. Your first bus trip as an athlete.
Big moments for a youngster. Mom and Dad couldn’t always be there.
Fred was. For 30 years.
“One day we’d be teaching them how to put their equipment on. Ten days later, the boys would play their first game. A lot of teaching had to occur in between,” Fred recalled.
Doug Omtvedt offered “Fred was my football coach in 7th grade. I recall him laying the foundation for us and doing a great job of getting everyone involved in the game. It was our first year of tackle football, so he moved us around, allowing us to play different positions.”
The Resume-the reason for this story
- 50 years as the scorekeeper for boys basketball games. He has missed one game.
- 44 years as the scorekeeper for girls basketball games. He has missed one game.
- Fred missed those two games due to—yes, you guessed it—a fishing trip to Lake of the Woods.
- 30 years as the Junior High (7th and 8th grade) football coach
- 20 years as junior high football referee – he continues at age 77
- 40 years as a basketball referee – he continues at age 77
- 10 years as a track coach
- Was offered to be the Head Coach of the girls’ basketball team. (Fishing prevailed over that decision).
He has likely witnessed more Two Harbors sporting events in Two Harbors than any citizen—ever.
After each game as scorekeeper, Fred takes the stat book home, hands it to Nancy and she registers the scores and statistics online for the Duluth newspaper. She’s highly compensated for her work—one free bag of gymnasium popcorn.
Dale shared the following story about Freddie as a scorekeeper: Ray Kortuem and Nat Sando always looked to Freddie to signal how many fouls a particular player had. One night, the player they asked about had three fouls. Unfortunatley, Freddie was in a farm accident when he was little and lost the part of the ring finger on his left hand. He was trying to show Kortuem and Sando that the player had three fouls, so he held up three fingers. Well, guess what? One of the coaches said to Freddie,
“How in heck can he have two-and-a-half fouls?”
Fred the Scorekeeper at Target Center
Coach Kallio at a Track Meet
Kevin Morsette stepped inside his house on a recent Sunday evening in Two Harbors. His voicemail indicated a missed call. Someone from Texas called to inquire about Fred Kallio. Kevin missed the call because he was out in front of the house talking to Fred Kallio.
Small town. Small world.
Morsette stated, “Fred is truly one of the most loyal, dedicated men there are.”
Kevin astutely noted that Kallio was there for the the 7th and 8th graders as they began to play, but years later, when his apprentices were applying their skills during varsity games on Halsted Field near Lake Superior, Fred was unable to observe the fruits of his labor. He could have been on the sidelines, or press box, but opted for something different.
Soon after the school bell rang on Friday afternoon’s, Kallio loaded his car with a tape recorder, notepad, pencils and stocking cap.
Northeast on Highway 61 past the home of smelting—Stewart River, to Silver Bay or Grand Marais.
Southeast on 61 to Cloquet, Proctor or Hermantown.
State Road 2, or Highway 53 to his stomping grounds in Aurora, Virginia, Mountain Iron or International Falls.
Fred was the advance scout for the varsity football team. If the Agates were scheduled to play Eveleth next week, he’d watch them this week. He verbally recorded his observations into the tape deck, jotted notes about prominent players, diagrammed the opposition’s plays and formations.
Fred was still helping the kids he coached in 7th and 8th grade. Few players or parents knew it.
Tim Graupman recalled, “Fred always did a professional job. He gave us great insights into the opposing team—these helped us build game plans and strategies for next week’s opponents. That’s giving up a lot of Friday nights to hit the road and then drive back home. We’d meet Fred on Saturday morning —or even late on Friday night after our home games. One of the nicest and funniest people of all time. You could lock Fred in a closet for two years and he’d come out with that big grin on his face.”
Morsette added, “He was Coach Halsted’s trusted and very dedicated scout. He never missed scouting the following week’s opponent and would bring back a precise written report. He did this with pride for many years.”
Fred recalled, “The coaches I was associated with in Two Harbors were always so helpful. Halsted was number one.”
Scouting trips began with Clyde Birkholz. Fred carried on with Clyde’s technique of using a tape recorder. Later, he would scout with his son Brian, preceded by several years with the late Tyce Mickolajak.
Kallio and Mickolajak. Abbott & Costello.
Not much difference.
For many years, if you saw Freddie, Tyce was probably nearby. On Friday nights, Fred specialized in scouting football—Tyce specialized in scouting fish.
“He’d be on the phone finding out where fish were biting on Lake Superior and the next morning we’d be in that spot—anywhere from Grand Marais and even to the shorelines of Wisconsin. We’d also go up to the Gunflint Trail and even over to Lake Michigan. We also fished and had a few brews with our good friend, Tom Fitzpatrick,” said Kallio.
Morsette shared a memory from the Kallio/Mikolajak days. “We used to go on coaching retreats to Tyce’s cabin. Fred was the last one to go to bed and the first one up. He would sit at the table with an electric frying pan and as each one of the attendees would wake up, he’d serve them a made-to-order breakfast.”
Per Doug Omtvedt, “When I think of him, it’s about his love for sports. Coaching football and track. Refereeing football and basketball. A “starter” for track meets. Scorekeeper at basketball games. Recording every Timerwolves game and watching it the next morning because he couldn’t watch it live because he was keeping book at the basketball game. He and Tyce would even officiate the annual Labor Day volleyball match between Thomas Lake and Stone Lake.”
Larry Sorensen cited a recent experience on the golf course: “Fred is one of my favorites, from 4th grade basketball until now. In fact, this October I was on the TH golf course with Dave Stanko. We came up to #12 tee box, Fred was walking towards us, had been out collecting balls out of the woods. We chatted for a bit, and then Stanko and I promptly sent two more balls into the woods. We all laughed.”
Current THHS Activities Director, Scott Ross, offered “As a junior high football coach, his winning percentage is probably higher than Nick Saban’s at Alabama. More importantly, he made it fun, taught the fundamentals, and developed players for the varsity program. He deserves so much credit for the success of that program. Still referees junior high football and basketball for us as well as being the official scorer for girls and boys basketball. He is the most reliable person I know and has been a great mentor to so many coaches and young officials. We appreciate everything Nancy does, as well.”
Bob Nyberg reminisced,“Freddie was the original renaissance man. Who else can cut his own hair, build his own house and fix a snowmobile? We took saunas every Sunday night for I don’t know how many years. We’d talk about what was going on in Two Harbors sports. He always had good insight. He was our biggest supporter. His scouting reports were impeccable. There couldn’t have been a better 7th and 8th grade football coach. He had the perfect temperament You just expected him to be there and he was part of everything we did. We had so much fun. So much fun! He’s also a family man—a great family man. When Fred retired, Cari wrote the most beautiful tribute to him. Absolutely beautiful. It really described Fred.”
Now, at age 77, Fred reflects on his years as a referee of junior high football and basketball games. For most people his age, remembering the details of the last game he officiated between Two Harbors and Silver Bay could be challenging. But Fred doesn’t have to turn the clock back 40 years—not even 30, or 20. While many youth sports are facing shortages of humans willing to endure the thankless job of enforcing the rules against improper behavior among this generation of America’s youth, Fred Kallio was on the field last autumn—yes, last autumn, dedicating his time to help kids play the game he loves.
When this story was first shared with the Kallio family on the evening of February 19, 2021, Fred was not available to read the preview. He was officiating a junior high basketball game.
Nancy shared, “He still enjoys refereeing. He’ll stop a 7th and 8th grade game and explain to a kid what he did wrong instead of just calling the penalty or foul on him.”
Age 77. Helping kids in Grade 7.
Most people don’t do that. Special people do.
“Fred is also a master carpenter. He helped many folks around town with remodeling projects, including myself. But that’s not all. Fred has also volunteered in the community. He and Nancy have long delivered “Meals on Wheels” to elderly folks in town. If there’s a community dinner or fund-raiser at the Moose Club, you will see him helping out in the kitchen and cleaning up afterward,” said Morsette.
Fred’s brother, Dale recalled “We had to help each other—it was a tough row to hoe. For all of the kids in our family to go to college by working in the woods—peeling wood for my father and other people, and getting odd jobs to pay for college with no loans. That just kind of shows you what hard workers we were.”
Notoriety was never Fred’s motivation.
“I just like to be involved in things with the kids and it keeps me connected right now with the kids, other parents, the coaches, referees, fans…the whole works. It’s just kind of fun to be involved in it,” said Fred.
That’s Fred’s way of describing his motivation. Perhaps it can be translated. Perhaps it’s about something even deeper. Ironically, perhaps the motivation is stated clearly on the back of the football jerseys of those Agate boys he once coached. Every time the Two Harbors Agates take the field, you don’t see names like Hanson, Cardinal, Keeler or Boulanger on the jerseys.
You see one word: FAMILY
From that four room, two story home amid eight family members to his life as a husband, father and grandfather—to those kids, other parents, coaches, referees and fans—his extended family–to preparing breakfast for friends after a night of frolicking, his life has always been about serving others in his family–and Fred’s family seems to be everyone.
Fred's siblings and Mom at Cari and Scott's wedding in 1990: Bob, Dale, Ailie, Evelyn, Ken, Ruthie, Eugene, and Fred.
A two-hour drive from home to college. A thirty-minute drive to the start of a career—and marriage—and parenthood. A 75-minute drive to a place to drop anchor. Fred didn’t have to go far to find his place in life.
A large map of Minnesota laid on the table.
“Where are you from Fred?”
For most, the answer is singular. Not for Fred.
His left hand rested on the map. Pinkie finger extended to Bemidji. Ring finger covering Highway 53. Thumb laid along the north shore of Lake Superior. Index finger on Lake Insula. Middle finger covering County Road 135 leading from Aurora to Embarrass to Soudan and Ely.
Palm covering most of northern Minnesota.
“I’m from here–all of it,” Fred could respond.
What he didn’t have, he built. What he had—his life—he shared. What he earned–respect. Some define happiness via material things. Others find happiness all around them.
Contentment is free, yet invaluable.
Fred is a rich man.
Pictured above: Scott, Cari, Andrew (Renee’s friend), Abby, Nancy, Alec, Amy (Brian’s wife), Fred, Rosie–in front of Fred, Renee, Calvin, Brian.
During a pure-Kallio moment of walking through the woods on a recent Monday evening in suburban Minneapolis, Fred and Nancy’s daughter, Cari, was taken by a comment from her 21-year-old son, Alec:
“I hope to be as content as Grandpa Fred someday and appreciate the simple things in life.”
Few things elicited as much happiness in Fred’s voice as when he told the story of Alec, saying he was willing to forego a trip to Disneyland to spend time with grandpa at his hunting shack in the woods of northern Minnesota.
The Kallio genes are strong in that young man.
Gone are many of his friends and family. Life continues for Fred. One good day at a time. When your only outwardly prideful moments are derived from having just one more fish in the boat than the next guy, perhaps your priorities are in good order.
Peaceful environs produce peaceful souls.
A good family life. A good sporting life. A good northern Minnesota life.
Perhaps Melanie Mojkowski captured his spirit as well as anyone.
“Freddy. My buddy. Coached track with him. He officiated everything. I still see him at basketball games and around town. I yell, “Freddy” super loud. He lights up.”
“Happy light of a man.”
Photo credit
A solitary Fred Kallio fishing on Lake Superior. The picture was taken by legendary Two Harbors photographer, Christian Dalbec, who Fred later described as “my paparazzi!”
Special thanks Cari Boedigheimer, Brian Kallio, Nancy Kallio, and, of course, Fred, for their cooperation with this story.
Thomas,
This is another great story about a superb human being. Freddy is the perfect person to highlight from a town like Two Harbors. He is a man that gives everything he has to everyone because it is the thing to do…his thing.
Warm regards,
Larry Smith
Thanks Larry. He’s certainly a good guy.
Fantastic story about a true legend in Two Harbors. He was my junior high football coach. He was the scorekeeper for basketball. I’d ask him, after the game, how many points I got. He’d either respond “not enough” or “your team scored x points. I still see Freddy on the golf course. No doubt in my mind that he can still swing the sticks. A true legend in TH.
Thanks Jerry. He’s truly a great guy. Fun to write this one.
Tom,
Wonderful story & great tribune to Fred. We have had the pleasure of living next door to the Kallios for over 40 years. There are many great memories of our neighborhood over the years. Annual block parties & potlucks that included games, races, sawdust piles & prizes. Fred & Tyce were a big part of the organizing. Fish was always on the menu, in every form, baked, boiled, smoked, canned. Fred was our daughter Cassi’s 4th grade teacher. We reminded her to call him Mr. Kallio in school & not Fred! He was a carpenter when he wasn’t teaching; building our garage, deck & reproofing our house. Handy neighbor to have! He isn’t hiring out for those jobs anymore, but we watch & worry when he’s up on his roof clearing off the snow! Fred is very deserving of this tribute. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Gunner & Vicki Johnson
Gunner and Vicki – thank you for the comment. Looks like I could have gotten some good stories from you about Freddie!
Thomas,
What an amazing story! Wow! It takes me right back to my childhood in Two Harbors. My father, Tyce Mickolajak, would have enjoyed reading every word of your article. I have an over abundance of happy memories involving our lives growing up down the alley from the Kallio’s. My father and Fred Kallio, were just as you described them, Abbott and Costello.
Thank you!
Molly Diebold (Mickolajak)
Hi Molly – I think I like your comment as much as you liked this story. Your dad was a character. They were a good pair. I’m glad–and fortunate, to have been able to get to know both. Take care…
Tom, I love reading your Two Harbors stories. They all bring back special memories and I hope someday you put them together in a book. Many of us in TH would love to purchase it.b
Thank you Robbie. I will definitely have to compile these stories in a book someday. Thanks for reading – hope all is well.
Really nice story, Tom. All kinds of things I didn’t know about Mr Kallio. He’s a real gem.
Rolf Kragseth
Thank you Rolf – “a gem” is right. One-of-a-kind.
Tom, Thank you so much for this amazing story and tribute to my dad. You went above and beyond and I will forever be grateful. As you said when we spoke on the phone – it makes me think of what I want to do … in the next phase of my life. Thank you again!
If ever anyone deserves recognition, it is your Dad. Cracks me up that he couldn’t read the story last night–or the updated version this afternoon, because he was officiating games. Every day, he justifies the writing and sharing of this story. Your dad is quite a guy–and so is your Mom.
Another beautiful story Tom. What a treasure Fred is, and this story will certainly brings smiles and happy memories to everyone whether they know him or not. I feel like we all do now 😊 I can’t wait to see what you write next.
Thanks for your patience with me as I wrote this story about Fred. 🙂
Tom: Wonderful, wonderful article, once again. I know “Mr. Kallio” must have been our coach in 7th and 8th grade football. Really great to read this piece on who he and his family. Keep writing, my friend. You have a gift!
Thanks Jerry – yep, he was our coach – quite a guy. He officiated basketball games last night and again today–and he’s 77. Good role model for the next 20 years.
Thank you, Tom, for all of your hard work in bringing my dad’s story to your blog. So grateful that you chose him as the subject for your latest. I love the fact that he had only limited time to read and take the story in over the weekend – because he was busy officiating and keeping the score book.
I love reading the comments both here on your blog, as well as from the Facebook community. So many kind words and memories from the people who have crossed paths with dad over the last 50 years.
As far as the debate of whether it was at the dump or “just around town,” we may never know as this has been a point of discussion since the first time I asked as a child.
-Brian