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Cliff Carlson Says ‘ThankLast November 30, while sculptor Cliff Carlson was undergoing treatment in Rochester, Minn, for a severe heart condition, his rural Wesley art studio burned to the ground, destroying with it the work of a lifetime. Rut Carlson is undaunted. In this open letter of thanks to the people of Kossuth County written from his Rochester hospital bed, Carlson presents a message of faith and hope uppropriate for this Christmas season.• • • •In this letter I wish to express my thanks, and the thanks of my family os well, to all who remembered me in their prayers, and to those who sent and brought cards, letters and goodies. {The goodies help keep me on the good side of the nurses). Personally I am on such n strict diet that if 1 stay long enough You won’t know me when 1 get back. Have Vbifl L ever eaten ''diet-' sail-free food? Jnfc intensive care I received so little, that each meal was something like washing dishes. No reflection on the hospitals—they have both been great.Of far greater meaning to me and my family has been your continued loyal support and encouragement as I have tried to become an artist and sculptor. The years have been many.My progress has been slow. You have all shared my struggle. The beauty of it all is that I have always felt this support and encouragement. No one has ever made fun of my dream. No one has ever pul me down. The leasing and kidding has always been in friendship. For this I am very grateful.When success finally started to come my way, you have shared eachCliff Carlson. 7 . lie’s thankfulone with me. My joy was your joy. Now when I return and find my studio and all its memories in asht»s, this friendship —and yes, love we have shared —will bear me thru.After all. my studio and foundry were in reality only the physical evidence of my past. Many lessons have been learned within their walls. I now have the firm assurance deep within, that 1 am a true artist and sculptor. Just as everyone else, I still have, always shall have, much more to experience and gain and learn from. I can not go out and meet my competition with self assurance and confidence.As I was, in the wee hours of that Saturday nite, carried out of the house’ For SupportI had built with my own hands when first married, placed in the Titonka ambulance; as 1 laid in the cardiac intensive care units, first at Mercy Hospital in Mason City and then at St. Mary s in Rochester; as I lay strapped lolhe tables watching the T.V. screen during various tests; as 1 watched my heart boating right beside my faco while a doctor pointed out where it was doing good and not so good, and oven a little place doing nothing at all, and as 1 continued to go through test after lest, many times with o day’s rest between, till the final one where the catheters were run up from the groin area, and I could watch them enter und squirm thru the various chambers of my living pumping heart and heart arteries, (I have the one designed so that it entered my left ventricle) and the dye being injected.The immediate presence of. xy. eldest daughter, Sandie, from Tucsqjl and the assurance lIigL my youngest; Cindy, also from Tucson, had arranged to come at a moment's notice; as my doors were occasionally closed and I could hear weeping people pass by; as I experienced all this I thanked God for the rich life he had given me.My many early years of semi-invalidism, the nearly five years in bed, my final marriage to one of my nurses, our three children, the loss of our son, the joy of our grandson, all became very vivid and real once more. It has been a life filled with love and learning. Even my struggle in the sculpture world had been full and meaningful. It now seemed to be all drawing to a close, and it had ail been worth it.I did wonder from day to day whyno mail from home, no phone calls, but there was a reason —my family had cut them off.One morning my doctor sat down beside my bed, (Shirley and Sandie on the bod itself), took my hand and Sandie the other. They had periodic discussions in the hall, so I knew that now was the lime.The doctor said that there was some very good news for me and also a little bad!The good news—I would need no open heart surgery, no by-passes, my damage could be controlled by medication, and in time I would again be productive and possibly better than I have been in years, or words to that effect. I could hardly comprehendthem all.He then told me he would let my family tell me the bad. Sandie said.Dad. your studio and foundry are gone. It was, of course, a shock, but here 1 was going to be able to work and produce again —I was the happiest man in the world.I know it shall be hard to sift thru the ashes. There are so many, many memories out there. It is something I must do all by myself. I pul them there and I will have to lay them to rest myself. Then I can rebuild. They will never be forgotten, but they will never stand in my way.My past, with experience and knowledge gained, is not buried in those ashes. The ashes will vanish but from them will emerge my best works.A special thanks to the Wesley and Titonka fire departments for saving my house.Clifford Carlson Family
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NA, 28 May 2019
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