Well, I figured, the last two Swedes worked out okay, so we might as well take our chances on another one.

For someone of Finnish ancestry - whose father always denied we had any Swedes in our family tree, despite our family name - I must confess that I thought about it for awhile. I mean, political correctness notwithstanding, isn't there a basic risk in hiring Swedes?

Do you really want to cut through herring breath every time you get too close? Isn't it un-American to prefer aquavit to bourbon? Is official neutrality endemic? Can you trust someone who actually likes lutefisk?

But when I considered the major contributions made to the Port and the Port Authority by Alan Johnson and Sam Browman, I concluded why not? Maybe we'll get lucky and go three-for-three.

So with Sam's retirement as of January 1, we hired another Johnson, this one named Ronald L.

A little background may be in order. When I took this job in January 1979, our marketing director was Alan T. Johnson, whose heritage was Swedish and Norwegian but who was known around here as "the big Swede." Contrary to the Swedish stereotype, Al was an extrovert, an outgoing guy with a hearty laugh and a flair for repartee. He had an enviable way of winning friends and influencing people on behalf of the Port.

When he left us in 1985 to become the Green Bay port director, his position was filled by Browman, who had been the Seaway Port Authority's trade development director since September 1978. Sam's father was of 100 percent Swedish stock, his mother French and Dutch.

The Harbor Line

We're No. 1

You Will Know Beans

LSW Needs Warehouse

Hello Columbus

Around the Port

First Call

Changing of the Guard

Port Gallery

Seaway Specials

Nautical Quilt

Taconite Record

No Vacancy

From Japan

Biotechnology and Agriculture

Cruise Ship Evokes Past

Back Cover

Like Johnson, Browman had blond hair (white, now) and blue eyes, but stands about half a foot taller. At 6-foot-3 and about 250-plus pounds, Sam, physically, was every bit "the big Swede."

And Sam did an absolutely superb job in representing the Port nationally and internationally. With 41 years in transportation - the first 22 in railroad operations, sales and marketing, plus 19 years here - he had a wealth of insight and knowledge about commercial trade. Innately good-natured and one of those gentle souls whom others like to be around, Sam was highly respected throughout the Great Lakes maritime industry - as well as in key trade centers like Montreal, New York, Rotterdam and Hamburg.

So now comes Ron Johnson, a descendant of Swedish immigrants. His ancestry has been traced to the 15th century and there's evidence of some Norwegian involvement, but he says it's "only about 10 percent on my mother's side." (The math escapes me, but Swedes are known for doing things their own way and I didn't dwell on it.)

Unlike Al and Sam, Ron's hair and eyes are brown and he's probably about as lean and trim as he was in the Marine Corps more than 25 years ago.

But like his predecessors, he brings great credentials: Four years in grain traffic with Cargill, Inc.; eight years with Conwed Corp. in Cloquet, Minn., the last three as transportation manager; and 12 years with USG Interiors, Cloquet, the last 10 as manager of the Midwest customer relations office.

Ron's also learned how to get along with Finns, something of value around here. His wife, Lois, is the granddaughter of Finnish immigrants.

I can't wait to meet Lois. The first thing I'll ask her is something my late father-in-law, George A. Johnson, once asked of Sam Browman.

The three of us were hauling wheelbarrows of rocks into trenches for a new septic system at my rural home and George stopped for a moment, looked Sam squarely in the eye, and said:

"Hey, Sam! Did you know the Finns invented the wheelbarrow?"

"Nope," said Sam. "Didn't know that."

"Yup," George said. "It was to teach the Swedes how to walk on their back legs."