By Bernie Hunhoff

Seldom does the tenor of the South Dakota state legislature rise to the level of outrage. Lawmakers here can argue life and death issues without waking the lobbyists in the back row.

But on Friday some wronged auto dealers came to the House State Affairs Committee to lament their treatment by auto makers Chrysler and General Motors. It became an emotionally charged event in committee, and the issue will probably remain so as it winds through the House and Senate chambers.

Some dealers were cancelled after 70-plus years of selling cars and trucks for GM. They lived and breathed for the company — and for their home communities. The GM bosses couldn't have ever afforded to buy such loyalty. And apparently they didn't even appreciate it.

When GM filed for bankruptcy, the chiefs decided it was a good time to shed dealerships because the bankruptcy gave them an end-run around state franchise laws that would have normally prevented such arbitrary actions.

A dealer from Sturgis told the committee that a friend said, "You must feel like lambs being led to slaughter."

The dealer said that he replied, "No, I don't feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. I think it's more like the Jewish people being led to slaughter. A lamb doesn't know where he's being led but we knew exactly what was happening...."

Steve Biegler, a third-generation Aberdeen dealer, said that it's easy to find his father's and grandfather's graves in the local cemetery. "They both have Jeeps on their graves. But I don't think there will be any more Jeeps in that cemetery."

For too long, most of us in Rural America have looked the other way as Corporate America has decimated our Main Streets. We shrug and say, "That's Free Enterprise. That's Capitalism." Decisions by monopolistic meatpackers, lawsuit-happy seed companies, heavy-handed insurance companies and other entities won the argument years ago that all should bow to their so-called efficiencies.

So we've gradually lost our retailers, our farms and ranches, our schools, hospitals, churches and now our car dealers. Efficiency is a great thing. If this keeps up, we might as well pack up our Fords and Hondas and head for one of the coasts. Whoever is the last to leave should open the gates at Custer State Park so the buffalo can reclaim the prairie.

By John Andrews

I don't remember how old I was when I made my television debut as a member of Captain 11's crew. I do know it was my birthday, so my family drove from Lake Norden to Sioux Falls for the show. I also remember we had this new-fangled contraption called a VCR on which we could record the show and I could watch myself afterward. Thrilling seems too tame a word.

Every kid in the studio was in awe when the Captain appeared in his blue uniform. I'd never a sound as loud as the roar that erupted when he asked, "How's my crew today?" I was always fascinated with the little switchboard where kids "selected the cartoons," so I was excited to flip one of the switches. I even managed to coherently say my name and age when he came around with the microphone. And even though I didn't get to try the treasure chest, being on Captain 11 was an experience I'll always remember.

Dave Dedrick was Captain 11 from 1955 to 1996, making his show the longest running children's show in television history. Three generations of kids who grew up in KELOLAND have the same memories I do, and now we can relive them at the Cultural Heritage Center in Pierre. When Dedrick retired in 1996, the time converter and other props from the show were donated to the State Historical Society. After Dedrick's death on Jan. 22, a temporary exhibit went up in the Heritage Center's lobby. It features a giant Tootsie Roll and the popular treasure chest, photos, posters and other memorabilia. His blue uniform is on display in the museum's "Changing Times" exhibit.

So if you have fond memories of the Captain, visit the Cultural Heritage Center. And don't feel ashamed if you find yourself waving with both hands and both feet.

By Bernie Hunhoff

There's a hand-written sign at the Pit Stop convenience store in Wessington Springs that reads "39 Days Since Our Last Break-in."

I stopped there for gas earlier this week and thought it was a joke, but proprietor Kelly Gran wasn't laughing. And she says rural crime seems to be on the rise, even in places like hers — which sits very near Highhway 34 and is well-built and wired with alarms.

She's experienced break-ins on July Fourth, rodeo weekend in May and on opening day of pheasant season. The thieves seem to arrive when she is well-stocked with cash and merchandise.

The bad guys got away with her ATM machine last time. When it was found in the hills near Fort Thompson, about an hour's drive to the west, it was broken and $7,000 in cash had been removed. That constituted a bank robbery, interestingly enough, and now the FBI is interested.

Wessington Springs seems like one of the safest little communities in the Great American West. Sadly, even there a small business isn't immune. Kelly said the thieves appear to be pros. They knew when to strike and how to maximize their burglary in a few minutes inside.

It's a small world in more ways than one.

By John Andrews

Big things have happened to Kevin Locke since we wrote about him and his newest CD in our November/December issue, not that we really had anything to do with it.

Locke's album Earth Gift won a NAMMY (Native American Music Award) in the Record of the Year category. He was also nominated for Artist of the Year and Flutist of the Year. The NAMMYs are the music industry's largest recognition of Native audio recordings. Locke previously won a NAMMY in 2000 for his album First Flute.

The CD is also up for an Independent Music Award for best album in the World Traditional category. Fans select the winners, so vote for Kevin here.

Earth Gift features traditional songs about nature and creation mixed with contemporary music. Locke is a well-known hoop dancer and storyteller from Wakpala on the Standing Rock reservation. He performs at schools and other venues across the country. He is also one of the last people who can play traditional songs on flute. "It's a very highly developed, formulaic style of composition, like pentameter or haiku," Locke told us. "It's a long standing literary tradition, but it almost died out during the early reservation period."

By John Andrews

In 1996 we reported that a book of drawings by Black Hawk, a Lakota medicine man who lived on the Cheyenne River reservation during the late 19th century, sold at auction for $387,000, the second-highest price ever paid for an American Indian artifact. Since our short article appeared, Black Hawk's drawings have been published and are considered the best representation of Indian life from 1875 to 1895 in existence.

Spirit Beings and Sun Dancers contains 76 colored pencil drawings depicting ceremonies, visions, historical happenings and nature. Scholars provide brief explanations and insights into Lakota history and culture.

William Caton, a Fort Pierre trading post operator, paid Black Hawk 50 cents per drawing to help him survive the winter of 1880-81. The illustrations were bound and passed to Dorothy Caton, a descendant of William's. Upon her death, it was willed to a friend, Bessie Irvin. When Irvin died her family donated the book to Goodwill Industries, but Goodwill officials realized it was valuable and returned it. Big auction houses got involved and the book was sold. Black Hawk's original drawings are now housed at the Fenimore Art Museum in Cooperstown, N.Y.

By John Andrews

Chances are you've seen John Behring's work. You just don't realize it. The Canton native has directed and produced many of the network television dramas you watch today or have seen in the last decade.

The latest issue of The South Dakotan, the University of South Dakota's alumni magazine, has an article on Behring. Last year he directed episodes of Crash, Lie to Me, Ghost Whisperer and Life. He's also done a ton of commercials and other television series like The Lazarus Man, NUMB3RS, CSI:NY, Charmed and Dawson's Creek. See a complete list of his work here.

Behring got his start at the campus television station, KUSD, then moved on to stations in Sioux City and Milwaukee before venturing to Hollywood in 1984. He did mostly commercial work until his career directing television dramas took off in 1996.

"I've been lucky, but that luck has come about because I haven't been afraid to work hard," Behring says. "That's a credit to my family and my South Dakota work ethic."

The Rapid City Journal has a good editorial today advocating a facelift of Mount Rushmore Road, the city's main thoroughfare and a common path for visitors who leave I-90 in search of the mountain b the same name.

City officials have apparently been considering such a move. It does seem long overdue. Mount Rushmore Road has a lot of character — quirky coffee shops, historic homes, the state's finest Chinese restaurant (and it's operated by one of the world's greatest wildlife photographers), etc. — but all those traits are obscured by power lines, over-the-top signage and other uglinesses.

We don't like to be told what to do in South Dakota. That's why we live here. But now and then a little cooperative planning (i.e., zoning) wouldn't kill us. And it might leave a better and more inviting impression on visitors.

Hundreds of South Dakota's most avid tourism advocates are in Pierre this week for their annual conference. Last night, they gathered for a gala with lawmakers and other state officials.

Lt. Gov. Dennis Daugaard opened the event with the comment that he has been especially impressed with the enthusiasm and generosity of the Sturgis tourism crowd, who were the theme of a Wednesday night party. "Why, last year my wife Linda and I were walking through the bike rally," he said, "and I said, 'Look, Linda, that woman has already given the shirt off her back ....."

Then Gov. Mike Rounds — who is term limited this year — presided over his last tourism banquet and offered the top ten reasons how his life will change when he leaves office. Among them:

* He won't be able to close I-90 during snowstorms so he and his buddies can go snowmobiling on the four lanes.

* He won't have the biggest lawn in town any more (and he'll have to mow the lawn he moves to.)

* When he invites his friends to go on a pheasant hunt, he won't have to hide the invitation list from the Argus Leader.

And the governor said he shares Daugaard's appreciation for the generosity of the Sturgis people. He says the woman Denny referred to who'd given the shirt of her back was actually "very well endowed."