June 12, 2026
by Greg Koelker
My boss, mentor, and dear friend Matt Wadium would always read the obituaries when we were out for coffee. He used to joke that he was just checking them to make sure he wasn’t in them. Sadly, I remember the morning back in August of 2004 when he was. I am the same age Matt was when he passed, so I guess I kinda take them more seriously now. Some of you of a certain age probably get this.
Anyway, once a week or so, I check the Grant County obits, followed by Crawford County, Vernon County, Trempealeau County, and La Crosse County. Since the almost total demise of the morning newspaper, I check obituaries on Legacy.com. Last week, I was stunned to see an obit for our old friend, former WKBT News Director Mark Quade.
I first met Mark on a Monday in July 1973, on both of our first days at WKBT Television. He worked in News as a reporter, writer, producer, and eventually news director, and I worked in Production as the art director, commercial producer, commercial writer, photographer, and studio as a cameraman and then studio director. I was a studio cameraman working the Noon News when Mark started anchoring the Noon show with weatherman Larry Johnson. Mark and I became fast friends. I called him Quado, and he called me Gregor. Mark got me into playing racquetball at the YMCA. I got healthier, but I only ever came close to beating him once.
We used to go trout fishing. One time up near Cataract, I pulled in the biggest trout both of us had ever seen. I was dragging it on the beach when I tripped over our cooler. Mark grabbed the trout, and in the excitement, the slimy fish scooted up through his hands and escaped, wriggling back into the stream.
Mark took Ellen and me cross-country skiing for the first time. I remember that cartoon-like, I ended up with a 6-inch tree between my skis. Skiing never took with me, but El kept it up for decades, I guess passing on those genes to our Mountain Men.
We had a regular Wednesday poker night where the boys would rotate as host. Mark, Fritz Black, Mike Miller, Tom French, Matt Wadium, Mike Opsahl, Scott Thompson, Bill Skyrzmowski, and I would slam the table, hoot and holler, bluff, and laugh. Once someone bet their entire paycheck – and lost. (We opted for a limit after that.) On one game night, we were well into our cards and cups, and Tom ran out of money. He had a Dog shaped coin bank for his change and stood up and yelled, “Bet The Dog!” We would all yell “Bet The Dog” whenever we were contemplating some caper after that. One poker night at our third-floor apartment, someone noticed smoke coming in under our door. I woke up Ellen, and she and the boys headed down the steps. I looked around and then grabbed my brand new Ruger deer rifle. I never gave a thought to our wedding photos. Lucky for me, the smoke was caused by a new second-floor neighbor who didn’t know how to open the chimney flue. Ellen opened it for them.
During an Easter break from UW-La Crosse, Mark and I both had to work, and I had to make music, so Mark rode along with Ellen and me so she could stay with her folks near Cassville for the break. It was snowing pretty hard when we headed south on Highway 35. The white stuff only got worse the farther we drove. After a quick meet and greet with Ellen’s and my folks, Mark and I reversed course and headed upriver. North of Prairie du Chien, we had to stop several times and clean the packed snow out of the wheel wells of the little Vega so we could steer. It was shaky hands on the wheel the entire way.
Mark knew Ellen loved horses, so when he got a Saturday news assignment to visit Saphaptin Farms in Minnesota in the winter of 1975, he asked us to go along. We got to meet First Secretary, the months old first offspring of legendary Triple Crown winner, Secretariat. First Secretary was born to Leola, an Appaloosa mare that a Minnesota horseman had purchased.
Some Saturday mornings, Mark, Ellen and I would play touch football with newsmen John T. Hoffland and Dick Hoffman and others, and then retire to Howie’s for pool and refreshments.
Mark asked El and me to meet this girl he was pretty serious about. We had dinner at Big Al’s where we first met the beautiful Cindy Rudy. We approved. On the night of Mark’s bachelor party, he and I raced across Lang Drive, approaching speeds of up to 80 mph, he in his Triumph sports car and me in our Chevy Vega.
Mark’s witty and theatrical recitation of “Casey at the Bat” was something I’ll always remember about him. He was a great singer too; his cameo in “Grease” as Teen Angel was too much fun.
Mark and I drifted apart when I started teaching in 1990. The last time I spent time with Mark was at lunch at Features in West Salem, maybe in 2010. We had too much to talk about and too little time. We did talk on the phone very occasionally. He was so proud of his sons.
Ellen and I named our second son Mountain Man Mark after Mark.
This week, I had a visit with former WKBT reporter and anchor turned college professor, Amy Bie-Schafer. Mark Quade hired her and her husband, Clark Shafer for their first broadcasting jobs. We had so many memories of Mark. Opening up that cluttered drawer filled with all those memories of so many people and good times was bittersweet.
After 13 years, I left WKBT in 1986 to return to school.
Until next time, get out – the crops in the coulee look good. The other morning I was riding my bike and I saw a whitetail doe standing in alfalfa with a nursing fawn. The little one’s tail was twitching to and fro. El spotted a hen turkey in the yard yesterday morning. Fortunately for the bird, Bo didn’t spot her. Yesterday, I was riding Cardio just a couple of hundred yards from our driveway when a turkey flushed from the right side of the road, nearly hitting me and startling me into another bike wreck!
I bit the bullet and filled up our truck last week. It was over $77 for 20 gallons!
Pray for peace.
See more at VernonReporter.com
Greg Koelker is a lifelong resident of the Driftless region along the Mississippi River. He is the acclaimed author of the “Grouse Hollow Journal,” a column that celebrates rural life, nature, family heritage, and the traditions that bind communities together. While technically focused on the “outdoors,” his writing often explores broader themes of community values and education.
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