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October 27, 2009 - Kylie Saari
This morning, as my father was mowing the leaves, he fell in a hole in his boulevard. The hole wasn't large, he was not injured, but as I fought back the Baby Jessica flashbacks during the telling of this tale, I learned something else. No one would take responsibility for this. You see, the hole is in an area that was dug up this summer by Minnesota Energy for maintenance, and is clearly a case of what my dad calls an "air pocket." There was grass growing over it, but nothing underneath it. His foot went right in up to his knee. Dad called the city and told them what happened. Not their problem, they said. Call Minnesota Energy. So he did. They didn't know what to do about it either. They finally agreed to "forward the message" somewhere up the pipeline. Meanwhile, dad has a hole in his front yard, staked off to warn the children walking by from school to be careful. His entire street was ripped up this summer. I am guessing there are more of these pockets just waiting to be stepped on. I sure hope it isn't my kid who falls in.
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