Comments for Jamie Straatsma .com

Comment on Breakout Dance Studio Coming Soon To Fairbanks, Alaska by Jamie

Jamie — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 18:18:16 +0000

Thank you! Will do and you can pay at the first class. If you could show up early, that would be great. There are a few things that need to be filled out.

Comment on Breakout Dance Studio Coming Soon To Fairbanks, Alaska by Krista Winell

Krista Winell — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 18:05:21 +0000

Didn’t find a phone number so I will do this here as well -

Please register Carson Winell 5-8 youth hip hop class. Can we pay on the first day?

Thanks!

Comment on Breakout Dance Studio Coming Soon To Fairbanks, Alaska by Jamie

Jamie — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 02:23:32 +0000

Thank you Robin! She is registered!

Comment on Breakout Dance Studio Coming Soon To Fairbanks, Alaska by Robin Wennen

Robin Wennen — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 05:06:52 +0000

Please register Brooke Beard in your 9-12 yo hip hop class thanks

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Christina (daughter)

Christina (daughter) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 05:59:19 +0000

When I was a little girl, my dad would leave and come back. One day he left and didn’t come back until I was 15. As a child, I saw on the news a story about a tornado that ripped through Minnesota. I knew he was in Minnesota at the time, and I thought he had died in the tornado. When I saw him again at age 15, it was like he had risen from the dead. And now I wish that he would come back a second time. And this is what I would say to him…
I’m sorry for not being able to be there to protect you.
I feel like if I had known, I could have saved you.
I love you and I missed you.
Always and forever, even if sometimes we fought.

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Shannon Oliverius

Shannon Oliverius — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 03:17:09 +0000

Mike was one of a kind. A true friend, Loving Husband, Father, Careing, creative, sweet spirited man. He would give you the shirt off his back. Mike and Annett were there when my daughter was born. Mike asks the nurse “How long before she has it”, The nurse says “Its going to be awhile”, Mike then turns to Shaun (daughters father) “Do you want to see a movie in Brainerd”? I thought that was crazy of them to go see a movie, Hello I am in labor here! Honestly I dont know if they went to see a movie or not, But when they came back from whatever it was they were doing I was minutes away from Having her. Mike comes into the room sits down I have people all around and I am pushing. Annett then says to Mike, “You should wait outside the room”, So He went. Mike picked Cassie and I up from the hospital to take us home. Mike then took on my responsibilities for the next couple weeks. (I was unable to drive due to having my daughter) Mike drove to Brainerd everyday twice for me. Mike stopped over my house everyday to make sure I had everything I needed for me and the baby. Sometimes he would just stop by for a cup of coffee.
I was in need of wonderful friends in my life and God gave me you.

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Ben McCumby

Ben McCumby — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 07:38:43 +0000

This looks a bit like one of our elan creations….Dreammy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q78WgIEdWcQ

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Ben McCumby

Ben McCumby — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 07:37:46 +0000

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Don Denney

Don Denney — Sun, 23 Jan 2011 20:00:40 +0000

I guess it’s time to weigh in, I just learned of my dear friend mikies death and I am currently trying to see and type into a tear blurred I-phone as I try to digest this news. mike was inadvertently one of the finest humans ever created. I’m still in shock that something could actually kill him. He was the best friend I will ever have and when I learned of his death a small part of me died. Mike was the only person I ever met that never bothered to learn how to lie. (seriously, if you handed the phone to him and said, “tell them I’m not here!” mike would stick out his lower jaw, pause for way to goddamn long, and say, “he says he’s not here”). Used to piss me off to no end….now it’s a trait I try to instill in my kids……I’m going to tell a funny story cause I need to laugh right now,….(sorry if this whole thing seems dis-conjoined, my eyes keep leaking a strange water like substance and it is giving me some pause…) Anyway me and Mikie decided that we were going to become loggers. We figured with mikies brute strength and my acute business sence, it was a win win. We talked this dude that had a shit ton of trees in Rosie creek to clear into sub contracting it to us. We followed him into this camp way the hell out in the woods to see what we were in for. He showed us our camper ( probably ten square foot of livable space and a heater that blew to beat cooter brown when you opened the door, thus converting it into a sauna for three hours), whitch trees we would be cutting, where the food catch was and beat a hasty retreat. At least we thought he did. He broke down not far out of camp and came back to borrow our truck to get back to town. Now we had no particular affection for the truck per say, but mike only had a couple cartons of smokes, and besides that we had just welded a shiney ass bumper we got from his dads new truck after we dented it pulling a car we jumped back out of a ditch, and his mom made us replace the damaged one before his dad saw it. Soo…needless to say, we were against the loaning thing. He was a sweet talker though, and eventually mike loaned him the damn truck. We cut trees 18 hours a day and sweated in that damn sauna for the other 5 for five weeks waiting for that jackass to come back. We ran out of food after 3′weeks, ate an old moose kill that some former hapless stranded logger had no doubt killed in desperation after being marooned by this douch bag, and an giant ham that we found after 3 days with no food. Mike tried to dig it out for about 20 miniuts but it was frozen in so bad he finally carved off a 4 inch slab with his chainsaw and we cooked that sucker whole and to this day, I can still taste that ham…best damn ham I ever had. Well mike ran out of smokes. To those who knew him, you can guess what happened then. Of course we walked in.’why wouldn’t we? It was only 40 below and we were only 15 miles from the nearest road and then only 30 miles from town. I mean, mike was out of smokes. Nuff said. So were walking this green mile and it was f-ing cold. I mean so cold that our mouths stopped working, litterly. I don’t know if you all have ever got this cold and I never seemed to either exept when I was with mike, but your jaws stop working if you don’t use them for a while and if you want to say something you have to work your jaws for about five minutes before you can verbalize your thoughts. Well we had walked almost to the road and were close enough to the road to run into some after church familys Christmas tree hunt. As they pulled up to us I knew we looked bad cause we hadn’t showered or shaved in over a month and the ice crystals were covering our beards and eyebrows, (mike wasn’t the friendliest looking chap on a good day) so I tried to tell him to let me do the talking. Tried, but my mouth wouldn’t work. The suburban stopped, and as the man rolled down the window smiling, I saw his wife and two little kids in back munching on a bag of doritoes, looking curiously at the two frozen iceman, jaws working furiously,’each trying despretly to say something first. Mike won the informal race to speech that day and to my horror he replied to the mans simple question of “need some help”, not with a hell yes, or radio for help for gods sake, but with a question of his own………3 simple words that made the man with the nice warm suburban and the doritoes and the promise of safety roll up his window and blaze off with his little brood in disgust to murder a small pine, 3 words that screwed us that day….”Got a smoke?”…. I finally regained movement in my jaws and yelled at him the last 3 or 4 miles till we got to the road where we were promptly picked up by some hippies in a blue volkswagon van (another story) and mike finally got his damn smoke. I am glad I was friends with him and am pissed that such a gentle giant has been stolen from me. He was to young. I only wish I would have known in time cause Mikie I would have come sir…as I know you would have for me. R.I.P my friend and Godspeed. Donny

Comment on Share your stories about Mike Straatsma by Ben McCumby

Ben McCumby — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 06:51:45 +0000

What about Frank-n-elan? A ravaged Olympic 340cc single bolted into and Elan Chassis with a Moto-Ski Cowl…”just drill the hole in the crankcase man” And it LIVED!! All before 3 am. too. Custom paint by Ryan Pre- second skin days.

Or the CT 70 with a pirated motor from the trail 110? Just saw the frame right THERE and get a hammer to put that baby in… *I still have this mean machine in my shed BTW.

Centurian!- nuff said.

What about that funky white mini bike with the recoil start it was like half chopper/ half bigwheel and rattled so loud I think you could hear the metal clanking from down the road louder than the motor?