Let’s see concrete results

It’s almost laughable, really, that Fort Frances and International Falls, both of which are soon to celebrate their centennials, have decided—in 2002—to become “sister cities.” Obviously, it begs the question: What took so long?
Of course, Fort Frances and International Falls have always enjoyed close ties over the decades. There have been inter-marriages, and many Falls residents were born at La Verendrye here until a hospital was built on their side.
The border, even after Sept. 11, remains all but invisible as people from both sides routinely cross the bridge to visit, shop, and for entertainment. Most recently, the fight to save the AB-Backus complex in International Falls is a prime example of cross-border co-operation towards a common goal.
Still, anything that can improve ties between our two border communities is a positive step. Frankly, our relationship has been cool lately, irked by such issues as advertising campaigns designed to lure shoppers across the border—not to mention the lingering fallout of the so-called “fish war” of the past decade.
There’s no question Fort Frances and International Falls share many common advantages—and obstacles. Both communities, for instance, depend on a healthy forest industry, and sit on the doorstep of beautiful natural resources that attract anglers and hunters from far and wide.
Similarly, both are suffering from “out-shopping” and a declining population base, as well as the perception, at least, of not being on the radar screen of our respective provincial/state governments.
Clearly, both communities can learn from each other, and both will benefit from a vibrant Borderland area. Which is precisely why this sudden urge to formally become “sister cities” after almost a century must go far beyond the symbolism and platitudes—and entail much more than slo-pitch and snowshoe challenges between the two councils.
Talk—even if steeped in goodwill—is still cheap. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding.
Don’t forget, Fort Frances has been down the “twinning” road before—and there wasn’t much pudding to go around then.