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40 6 duluth is located at the westernmost tip of Lake Superior , where the St. Louis River runs into the lake. That’s as far west as you can go on the Great Lakes of North America. It’s the point where the world’s largest freshwater lake system ends. But of course you could also say it’s the point where it begins, and that it ends where the St. Lawrence River pours out into the Atlantic Ocean near Quebec City in Canada, half a continent away. Where he was sitting in room in Lakeview Nursing Home, Lance Hansen was approximately at the midpoint of the North American continent. To the east were the five Great Lakes: Superior , Huron, Michigan, Erie, and Ontario. To the west were the Great Plains, and beyond them the Rocky Mountains. To the north the boreal forests stretched all the way up to the tundra. Barely two hours’ drive away, beneath the bridges of the Twin Cities, the Mississippi River flowed southward. With its numerous tributaries and tributaries of tributaries, the river resembled a great tree made of water, with its roots in the Gulf of Mexico and its sparse crown sticking all the way north into Minnesota. From his mother’s room he had a view of the steep-sloped city where he’d grown up. The roofs of the Victorian houses lining the slope. The tops of the big oaks and maples growing in neglected gaps between the houses. Farther down was the town’s business district , with modern glass-and-steel structures mixed with elegant art deco buildings. The smokestack of Fitger’s Brewery stuck up like a signaling index finger. Beyond it Lance could see the structure that THE LAND OF DREAMS 41 more than anything else had become the symbol of Duluth—the Aerial Lift Bridge, which was over a hundred years old. Even from a distance of several miles you can see the big steel construction looming above the entrance to the harbor when you come driving south along the North Shore. It looks like an enormous steel gateway , and when a ship needs to pass, the bridge is simply lifted up under the top span, high overhead. At the moment the bridge was being lowered. Lance and his mother had been watching a ship pass through. How many times had they done just that? From their house on Fifth Avenue they had also had a view of the harbor and the Aerial Bridge. “There used to be more ships going through,” said Inga Hansen. “It probably varies from year to year,” replied Lance. There were coffee cups and a tray of cookies on the table between them. On the wall hung a series of photographs. Baby pictures of her sons. High school photos. Andy and Tammy’s wedding picture. Lance’s class at the police academy in Minneapolis. Her own wedding picture. Her husband in uniform. And the same photo that hung in Lance’s home office, showing a group of people, both adults and children, posing on the deck of a ship. On this one someone had also written in black ink “Duluth, October , ” in the right-hand corner. There were also baby pictures of Andy’s daughter, Chrissy. She had a faraway, dreamy look in her eye—something that Lance had never noticed before. “But I remember sometimes counting thirty lifts in one day. The most I’ve seen since I’ve been here is twelve. Twelve!” his mother said, as if she could hardly believe it. Lance wondered if this was how she spent her days, sitting here and waiting for the old bridge to be raised. He thought that he ought to take her for a drive along the North Shore so she could see all the places she loved. She was seventy-four and could easily live another ten years, maybe more, but he could see how fast she was aging these days. Only a couple of years ago it had been a very slow process , but all of a sudden it was speeding up, and he was starting to realize that it wouldn’t be long before she too would die. His father had been dead for seven years. There sat his mother with her white hair, and soon both of his parents would be gone. They had already talked about all the family members, what everyone was up to lately, and now they were just sitting together [18...
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