I remember Harold

This was the second time in my life that the police called about a friend close to me. This time it was Harold Haapoja, dying unexpectedly, and they were seeking relatives to contact. I searched for phone numbers or tried to think of a way to contact the relatives.

I remember staring at the wall for quite a while. I could not cry but just let the sadness settle in. Harold came to me, alive as can be, and spoke to me in my thoughts, saying it would be OK.

More than 20 years ago, Harold and I started to collaborate in plays and perform in numerous events in the community. We also helped each other explore being children of Finnish American families. With glee I worked with Harold on projects and acted across from him on stage numerous times. We visited on stage, and it came across very real to the audience because we felt it in our soul.

Harold’s first acting role was a preacher in “The Meeting Place,” who, during the 1918 Fires inferno, calls to God to burn the huddling group because they are sinners and deserve to be lost. He worried about remembering his lines but carried it out superbly. He was amazed at how it felt and how comfortable it felt on stage. Harold went on to portray characters in major roles for the County Seat Theater and we all that knew him loved his performances.

Harold became intrigued with the Finnish instrument, the Kantele, and mastered playing it. His voice and playing were remarkable. He formed and led the Kanteleen Soittajat for many years.

Harold was active in the Beaver Lutheran Church and on its council. He sang in church choirs, Autumn Voices, and the Jarvenpaa Singers with distinction and left his imprint there.

Of note, this is the year of the 100th Anniversary of the 1918 Fire and Harold was an integral part of a group that presented fire stories and histories in the Kettle River “Time to Remember,” the Moose Lake Area Historical Society events, the Cloquet schools and the Floodwood school. Harold and I talked of how much we were honored to share these fire presentations with all these groups and how it enriched our own lives as children of this area.

Harold told me that his evolution into an actor and a performer came at this time of his retirement.

He said there was no time for this with the demands of running a farm seven days a week and working for a living. This creative period in his life and his search for the roots in his family was only made possible by the freedom of retirement.

I will miss sharing creative projects with him. I will miss long phone calls, “speaking of many things, of cabbages and kings.” I will miss sharing our two lives and the creative projects we worked on. I will miss you, Harold — you have touched many lives.