Star Tribune
Jack Jablonski gives Minnesota another gift
Jack Jablonski was going on a date.
It was summer and he was back in Minnesota for a few weeks for another fundraiser for the foundation that bears his name. The 26-year-old opened an app, swiped and found a guy he liked and who liked him.
And then he canceled.
“What if someone sees you?” his family worried.
Paralyzed at a high school hockey game in 2011, he had been a source of inspirational, feel-good news stories. He was the kid who turned a devastating sports injury into a force for good in the world. The Jack Jablonski Foundation has raised millions of dollars for spinal cord injury research. He had a great job with the NHL.
But he wasn’t out yet. What if someone told the world he was gay before he was ready to share the news himself?
Coming out doesn’t change who you are. But it can change how the world treats you.
Which is why coming-out announcements, like Jablonski’s last month, still matter.
It matters to kids like the ones KQ Quinn works with as a school equity coordinator for OutFront Minnesota.
Quinn offers coming-out training for youngsters who are almost ready to tell their parents or friends or teachers that they’re gay, or trans, or ready to use the pronouns that make them feel more like themselves.
They talk about what they’ll say, how they’ll answer questions, where they can go for support if they don’t find support at home. Being kind when someone comes out is more than just Minnesota Nice. It’s a lifeline. A 2022 survey by the Trevor Project found that 45% of LGBTQ youth have seriously considered suicide in the past year.
So if someone comes out to you, say thank you.
“This person just shared some really, really important and vulnerable information,” said Quinn, who uses they/them pronouns. “I always recommend starting with ‘Thank you very much for sharing that with me’ … ‘What do you need in this moment and what do you need moving forward so I can show that I support you and love you?’ “
Jablonski came out on his own terms, in his own words, and so far the response has been overwhelmingly – 99%, he estimates – positive.
“Now I can just be myself,” he said. “I don’t have to worry about living in the shadows … Embrace who you are. This is the only life you’re promised.”
The Jack Jablonski Foundation is hosting its big Beat Paralysis Gala on Oct. 15 in St. Paul, which will raise money for two spinal cord research projects. Over the years, the foundation has raised $3 million, bringing hope to an injury the Jablonski family never saw as hopeless.
“Slowly but surely, progress,” Jablonski tweeted in March. Below the words, a video showed him pouring water out of a bottle and into a glass — an action that would have been unthinkable before his participation in an upper-limb stimulation research trial.
By July, a follow-up video captured the moment he swiped a cracker through some hummus and popped it in his mouth. A tiny, everyday gesture. An enormous triumph.
“Hard work is paying off!” he tweeted. “Couldn’t control my hands like this six months ago. Finally able to eat lunch on my own.”
He will walk again someday, he believes. Someday, he’ll skate again.
Right now, he’s just happy to be living without fear of what might happen if somebody spots him out on a date.
“It’s great to be who you are,” he said. “I just want everyone to be who they are and not have to hide and live a lie.”
Now that he’s out, the most intrusive questions he’s likely to face at the Oct. 15 gala will be whether he’ll be rooting for the Minnesota Wild when they play his employers – the L.A. Kings – in St. Paul that night.
Jablonski, a Minnesota story of courage and optimism for the past decade, just added another chapter.
“It was scary,” he said. “But I’m so happy I’ve done it. I’m happy to be who I am.”
Star Tribune
Retiring Paul Williams leaves legacy at PPL
His mother, a white German Catholic and one of seven kids raised in Frogtown, was the chief soloist at the St. Paul Cathedral, believed in social justice, helping the homeless and regularly took Williams and his three siblings to war protests and civil rights marches. She was a force, friends said, noting that for years she helped lead the Model Cities health care nonprofit that serves 1,200 Ramsey County families.
Williams’ father, Charles, the oldest of 10 children, became one of the few Black attorneys in St. Paul at the time. Charles, now 94, first served as a Ramsey County public defender and spent the last 20 years of his career as Ramsey County Family Court referee.
The Williams branch migrated to Minnesota from Topeka, Kan., in the 1920s and settled in Rondo. His grandfather founded the Hallie Q. Brown Community Center.
“They ran restaurants and stuff on University Avenue and were all very active in community,” Williams said. “They weren’t rich, but they were hardworking, prosperous people who cared about the community.”
Charles H. Williams Jr., 94, raises a glass to toast his son Paul Williams during a farewell party for Williams Tuesday, Dec. 10, 2024 at the Machine Shop in Minneapolis, Minn. Williams is the iconic 10-year leader of affordable housing giant Project For Pride In Living, the former deputy mayor of St. Paul and the former head of LISC Twin Cities. ] AARON LAVINSKY • aaron.lavinsky@startribune.com (Aaron Lavinsky/The Minnesota Star Tribune)
Williams ended up serving as deputy mayor to Chris Coleman, current head of Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity. The two become friends in second grade at St. Luke’s Elementary School.
“He was a kid of color in a very white grade school. He and his cousin were one of only a handful of students of color in the school,” Coleman said.
Star Tribune
Western Wisconsin sees big growth after new St. Croix Crossing Bridge
Never in a million years did Christina Snaza imagine she would move to Wisconsin.
A native Minnesotan whose phone still sports the 218 area code of the state’s northern half, Snaza and her husband were drawn across the St. Croix River three years ago from their home in Oakdale when they learned how affordable and convenient it would be to move to Somerset, Wis.
“We still call ourselves Minnesotans,” said Snaza, who now has a Wisconsin-born toddler.
Whether by happenstance or by design, thousands have made the same move into western Wisconsin since the four-lane St. Croix Crossing Bridge opened in 2017 and slashed commute times to the Twin Cities and the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. The rural hamlet of Roberts has grown 20% since the bridge opened, with some of its 2,100 residents moving into a subdivision jokingly referred to as “Little Woodbury.” Vikings flags snap in the breeze outside homes in the Somerset neighborhood of River Hills. And at Sweet Beet Bakery in New Richmond, owner Ashley Adkison says she has house hunters stopping in every Saturday to pick up tips on the local schools as well as some of her fresh-baked “Croixnuts” pastries. “They ask ‘Is everything open all week?’ ” she said, the city residents trying to prep for life in a small town.
The residential boom has made St. Croix County the fastest-growing county in Wisconsin. The bridge opening was like a “green light switch went on,” said Rob Kreibich, the president and CEO of the New Richmond Chamber of Commerce and a recently elected Republican member of the Wisconsin State Assembly.
Less crime, lower taxes and a small-town feel all play a part in drawing folks out of the Twin Cities, he said. Some new arrivals are looking for a place to start a family, but plenty of retirees or near-retirees have come as well, some citing lower sales tax or the absence of state tax on Social Security income as a factor. For others, a move to New Richmond has meant being closer to their up-north cabin.
Realtor Gina Moe-Knutson said some town councils have courted the growth while others were reluctant to let go of their rural identity. The first locale across the bridge, St. Joseph Township, has seen modest growth of 8% since the bridge opening, while it’s 19% in New Richmond. The city invested in infrastructure 25 years ago, said former director of planning and development Robert Barbian, building out water and sewer connections and plotting roads across farm fields as adjacent township land was annexed into the city for developments that became Waters Edge, Fox Run, Whispering Pines, and Gloverdale. The result is the city’s footprint has grown from 6,183 acres in 2015 to 7,674 acres today, said New Richmond City Administrator Noah Wiedenfeld.
“We looked ahead quite a few leaps,” Barbian said.
Star Tribune
Tree Trust helps young Minnesotans find new careers
The trees in your city look different when you’re the one planting them.
It’s work that doesn’t stop when the snow flies and the ground is too cold to dig. So on a frigid December afternoon, Minneapolis’ Midtown Greenway echoed with the buzz of chain saws and the creak of timbers as a Tree Trust crew pruned the trees and brush, cut back invasive species and freed saplings from strangling vines. All the hard jobs it takes to keep the metro evergreen.
Caring for an urban forest means taking care to train the next generation of skilled workers who are drawn to hard, rewarding jobs out in the cold and the heat and the rain.
“A program like this really changes how you view the outdoors,” said arborist-in-training Gianna Broadhead, taking a break from stacking logs taller than herself in tidy piles beside the greenway. She lives near the Mississippi River and now, when she walks by its banks, she can identify trees on sight, spot the invasive species and marvel at the old-growth giants.
Broadhead and her teammates are in the final weeks of Tree Trust’s Branches program — a 10-week paid apprenticeship in tree care and landscaping, under the supervision of experienced staff.
This has been Tree Trust’s dual mission since the nonprofit was founded almost 50 years ago. Minneapolis neighborhoods, decimated by Dutch elm disease, needed trees. The city’s teens and young adults needed work.
Antonio Juarez, a Branches trainer with Tree Trust, waits for a cyclist to pass before crossing the path while cleaning up trees and vines along the Midtown Greenway in Minneapolis on Dec. 10, 2024. (Leila Navidi)
The idea of an office job didn’t appeal to Broadhead, but Tree Trust’s mission statement did: transforming lives and landscapes.
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