FEBRUARY 1, 2026 – I’ve written about him several times on this blogsite, most recently on September 7, 2025: our neighbor, the inimitable “Mr. Paulson,” literary savant, retired honors English teacher at Roseville High, life-long coach, and honorary scout for the Twins. Our paths often cross as he’s out walking the family’s ancient canine and I’m on my way to or from “Little Switzerland.”
Today I’d already completed my workout up and down “St. Moritz” and was seated comfortably in our reading room, which faces the sidewalk out front. When I saw “Mr. Paulson” following his plodding yellow lab in front of our house, I jumped up, grabbed a cap and jacket, shoved my feet into my shoes and flew out the front doorway. In my hand was the book: Into the Bright Sunshine – Young Hubert Humphrey and the Fight for Civil Rights by Samuel G. Freedman. (More about this book in a subsequent post.)
“Mr. Paulson!” I cried out from our front steps. He turned around and waited for me to reach him. “I’ve got your next book club book.” Kent (his given name) belongs to a high-powered neighborhood book club, and knowing at least one other member—a frequent anti-ICE demonstrator—I was sure their group would appreciate Freedman’s book.
“I finished it just this morning,” I said, holding out the volume for Kent so see. “This book was so remarkable, I read the final chapter—50 pages—in one sitting. It covers Hubert Humphrey’s early life, his stint as Mayor of Minneapolis, and his extraordinary involvement in the cause of civil rights, culminating with his courageous test of determination and political courage at the 1948 Democratic convention. It’s my book club’s current selection.”
“Huh,” he grunted with a nod, his usual form of acknowledgment. “As I told you yesterday,” he said, referring to our encounter Saturday during his dog walk and my drive to Little Switzerland, “Mrs. Paulson is now down in Arizona playing mahjong, and I’m enjoying the house to myself, so just like you, this morning I got down to the last chapter of our book club book, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. I’m telling you . . .” he continued. “It’s an amazing piece of work.”
I added it to my mental list. I’d seen the movie and read other books by Kundera. In listening to Kent’s enthusiastic endorsement of the novel, however, I was reminded of the numerous Kent-recommended classics that still occupy my reading list.
But the conversation soon turned back to Into the Bright Sunshine, as Kent expressed interest in it. This, in turn, led to Kent—an erstwhile Republican turned vehemently anti-Republican (years ago), and now, viscerally anti-Trump, to shift into current day politics. It didn’t surprise me to hear that earlier this afternoon he’d returned from attending a church service at an immigrant Latino church in a particular part of Minneapolis better left unidentified. One of his walking buddies is the pastor there and had invited Kent to attend. Upon hearing of parishioners’ needs, Kent stocked up donations of food, cash, even some furniture to deliver to the church. When he arrived there, it was in complete lock-down against ICE.
“There’s no way you could get into that place,” Kent said, “unless the pastor knows you personally. They’re not taking any chances with ICE.”
We talked more about the ICE crisis and what we’re called to do in response. With the old dog’s light tug on the leash to remind Kent he was supposed to be walking, not talking, and without mittens, my hands feeling the cold, we wrapped up the conversation with mutual assurances of continuing our conversation over the coming week.
As I scurried back to the house, I felt grateful for yet another boost of hope and encouragement. If enough good people press back against the tyrannical regime, I thought, we will prevail against it.
Subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
© 2026 by Eric Nilsson
