|
Department: People People: Luther Berntson, Kelsey Ketterlin by Various Authors
LUTHER BERNTSON – KIND HEART, HELPING HAND
By Tamera Manzanares/Photos by Deborah Olsen
Getting to know Luther Berntson, especially in a time when optimism seems scarce, is a gift. A friendly fixture in Steamboat Springs for nearly 20 years, Berntson is known for his warm smile, kind heart and willingness to help others. From forging new farming methods to lending a hand to strangers halfway around the globe, this 80-year-old’s life experiences are rooted in his belief that no matter how big the problem or injustice, anyone can make a difference.
“People need hope,” says Berntson who, with his wife Helen, actively volunteers for organizations including Relay for Life, Lift-Up of Routt County and Concordia Lutheran Church. Frequent trips to the slopes, hiking 14ers and celebrating Scandinavian foods and traditions with friends also fuel his spirit. “An active lifestyle helps you stay young. These activities keep your mind and spiritual life alive,” he says.
A better way
Berntson is a problem-solver and organizer. He’s not one to settle for the status quo.
In 1960, he took over his family’s North Dakota farm, which had been homesteaded by his Norwegian grandparents. Berntson farmed the land as generations before him had done, battling the dry climate and fervent winds that whipped up soil in the wake of his plow. By the mid-1970s, Berntson believed there was a better way. He joined a small group of like-minded farmers who did away with their plows and left previous crop residue standing to block wind and erosion, capture snow melt and enrich the soil.
There were plenty of skeptics and little research to back up the practice, but Berntson and the other farmers stayed on course, patiently watching their lands regenerate into a more natural state that improved production, required fewer weed-killing chemicals and enhanced wildlife habitat.
“A lot of the things that we believed would happen, happened as the system evolved,” says Berntson, who co-founded the Manitoba-North Dakota Zero Tillage Farmer’s Association. Like a scene from “Field of Dreams,” he welcomed busloads of tourists to his farm to learn about the practice. He also garnered awards for conservation and spoke to members of Congress about sustainable farming research.
 | | "I'd rather ski than play bingo," says Luther at home with his wife, Helen. |
|
Finding hope
When it came time to retire, many of the Berntsons’ neighbors headed to warmer locales in Florida and Texas. But that life held little pull for Luther and Helen, who set their sights on the Rocky Mountains, where they had spent many ski vacations with their two daughters.
“I’d rather ski than play bingo,” Berntson quips.
Steamboat, with its big ski mountain and close-knit community, fit the bill. In 1993, the couple built their home, with Berntson doing much of the work himself.
Retired life may have been easier than farming, but time presented new challenges. By the end of the decade, both Luther and Helen had been diagnosed with cancer. Fortunately, Helen’s breast cancer and Luther’s prostate cancer were caught early, and treatment was a success. (They had been diligent about getting screened because cancer runs in both sides of their families.)
Grateful for the technology that saved their lives, the Berntsons became interested in the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life fundraising walks for cancer research, and volunteered to help with Steamboat’s inaugural event in 2006.
That first effort, plagued by rain and overwhelming logistics for the out-of-town organizer, was rocky. Recognizing the changes that needed to be made, Berntson and fellow volunteer Marvin Lindsey took over as organizers. By 2008, Berntson was the sponsorship chair, charged with gathering funds to help pay the costs of the overnight event.
“Everybody in town knows him, and nobody can say no to Luther,” Lindsey says. It was an overwhelming success: The event raised more than $220,000 and made Routt County the top per capita donor in the country that year.
Berntson, who continues to captain a team, says he’ll always be part of Relay for Life, which raises important funds but is also an important reflective time for people touched by the disease. “It’s people celebrating lives and celebrating birthdays,” Berntson says, tears welling in his eyes. “That’s an impressive thing.”
Common ground
Retired life did not spell the end of farming for Berntson, who, not long after settling into Steamboat, volunteered to share his skills with struggling farmers in Eastern Europe and parts of the former Soviet Union. Fallout from the Chernobyl nuclear disaster had made crops in areas such as Belarus and Ukraine useless. Berntson taught farmers there how to grow canola, which retains toxins in its stalk but not in the seeds harvested for oils.
In Azerbaijan, he helped farmers adapt new crops to land once covered in grape vineyards that were destroyed by the communist regime. The residents warmly welcomed the volunteers – the first Americans many had seen outside their TV screens – into their homes. Berntson was touched by the peoples’ faith in freedom and democracy, despite the hardships they faced after the fall of the Soviet Union. After 70 years of suppression, they were able to rebuild churches and freely practice their traditions.
“The more we get to know each other, the more we are alike,” Berntson reflects. “It’s no different than America. We all want a good life for our children.”
Poverty and injustice, no matter how far away, is no light matter to Berntson. Back in Steamboat, he learned about a group of political refugees from Mauritania that were settling in town. He happened to meet one of them, Mamadou Niass, at the Old Town Hot Springs, where Niass was working at the time. Berntson invited him to Thanksgiving dinner, and the two became quick friends.
Whether it was finding food, clothing, furniture or work, fixing a car or figuring out paperwork, Berntson was there to help Niass and other Mauritanians adjust to their new home. Last year, the two men gathered clothing, bedding, mattresses and other used goods to send to Niass’ poor and worn-torn village in Mauritania. By November they had sent four large shipping containers of items to Africa. “He is a very, very good man,” Niass says. “He loves everybody. He’s like a dad to me.”
Helping comes naturally to Berntson, but the relationships and rich experiences he receives in return benefit him just as much as those he helps, he says: “That, to me, is not an obligation. I’m the one who’s rewarded.”
OUTDOOR OFFICE ON THE SLOPES
Story & Photo by Kate Znamenacek
At 7:35 a.m., with a bagel in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, 18-year-old lift operator Kelsey Ketterlin boards the free bus to start her atypical work day.
She arrives at the locker room still in her pajamas, then switches to several layers of clothing: a hooded jacket, wool hat, goggles, heavy boots and heated gloves. She and her magic carpet coworkers make their way to the tool shed to collect shovels and brooms and head to their outdoor office on the slopes.
Sometimes Ketterlin is outside by 8 a.m. At this early hour, she is witness to the awakening of the resort, watching ski patrol and crew on snowmobiles buzzing about, setting up nets and opening the area.
“It’s wonderful. I get to see amazing sunrises and everybody is working toward the same goal – opening the mountain. It makes you feel like part of a team,” says Ketterlin, a Denver native and non-skier who migrated to Steamboat Springs with her raft guide friends. “I had no clue what being a lift op meant, but I figured if I did it and was in this environment, I may finally learn to snowboard. By watching the lessons taking place on the carpet, I’m getting tips and I should be able to figure it out on my own.”
Getting ready for an eight-hour day in fluctuating weather conditions takes planning and trial-and-error practice that can leave you prey to the elements if you forget something. Ketterlin’s secrets are dressing in layers and bringing plenty of food.
“It’s so cool, our jackets have so many pockets, we call it the ‘lunch box jacket’ and we shove mounds of food into the pockets – like granola bars and Liftie sandwiches from GoJo’s.” Ketterlin’s crew has a half-hour lunch break and two 15-minute breaks in the morning and afternoon. To making ends meet, employee discounts help, leftovers are key, and many lifties know the secret of saving $1 breakfast sandwiches for lunch.
So is it boring? On the outset it seems like monotony and frozen toes, especially on the magic carpet. “I don’t get bored, I enjoy my job and there’s always someone to talk to,” says Ketterlin. “People say ‘Oh you work on the carpet,’ but I love the carpet, I don’t know what they’re talking about.
“The friendships are great. We all cover each other during work and we have each other’s backs. We share stories and laughs in the locker room and hang out together after work,” says Ketterlin, adding that getting a firsthand view of concerts and Gondola Square activities are pluses, too.
And as for next season, she says, “I’ll probably definitely be back!”
 | | Lift operator Kelsey Ketterlin heps Finn Chapman, 3, of Steamboat Springs, at the top of the magic carpet at the Steamboat Ski Area. |
|
|