A Prairie Home Companion from American Public Media: First Person

Tryouts
by Steve Rasmussen
February 1, 2007

Wessington Springs, South Dakota, is a small town at the edge of the Badlands. The only way I can describe it is like a surfboarder's dream wave; if you look to the West you see the rumblings of hills which make up the Badlands, and if you look to the East, you see calm, flat plains as far as the eye can see. As an adult, I simply enjoy the East, where on a cold winter's day you can't discern the horizon from the windblown snow and the overcast sky. It reminds me of a great quote by Theodore Roosevelt:

"Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."

Many of you that may remember these words might be correctly thinking it was some sort of a pep rally for the troops—I, as a child link it to... the Baptist Church.

We, as the Rasmussen family were asked to sing ?Oh, Holy Night? in front of the congregation. The night before, in attendance were Uncle Randy, Aunt Deb, my father, my mother, my sister, my Grandma, Larry Winter, and others rehearsing the song. The choir director asked if I was a bass or baritone. I instinctively replied, "I'm a Rasmussen."

Coming from a lineage, whose father and sister are music majors, and singing bleeds throughout, I found myself alone in the pew the next morning. Not, as I now look back, out of maliciousness, but out of the South Dakotan politeness to which no one would say out loud but is thinking "that son is simply tone deaf."

But sitting there, watching and listening—I can recall how beautiful it was to just stop and hear the piano and the music?the wonderful music?that my family made together.

About the author:
As a Midwesterner, I grew up appreciating all of the small events that occurred every day and the small influences of those around me. And as I wrote this for my family scrapbook, I realized Garrison Keillor was one of those small influences lingering between the lines. Thank you.