Rune with a View: The Curious Case of the Kensington Stone
One Farmer’s Discovery
Back in 1898, out in the sleepy little town of Kensington, Minnesota, a Swedish immigrant farmer named Olof Ohman was trying to clear some trees when—bam!—he hit the historic jackpot. Buried in the roots was a 200-pound slab of rock covered in mysterious runes. Now, most folks would’ve just grumbled about the extra work, but Olof hauled that stone home like he’d found buried treasure—which he might have, depending on who you ask. Or he might’ve just found an old prank.
Was it a hoax?
The writing on the rock told a wild tale: a group of Norse explorers had trekked to Minnesota in 1362—well before Columbus ever laid eyes on a ship. According to the message, ten of them had been attacked and killed, and the survivors left this carved stone as a historical “SOS.” Of course, this raises a few questions: what were Vikings doing in the middle of the prairie, hundreds of miles from any reasonable body of water? Did they take a wrong turn at Greenland? Forget how compasses work?
Scholars, historians, and self-declared Viking enthusiasts have been arguing over that rock ever since. Some say it’s the real deal, pointing to the runes and the aging of the stone. Others claim it’s a hoax, probably carved by Ohman with a chisel and a stubborn streak. The runes are a bit fishy—some are suspiciously modern, and the grammar is like a bad Google translation from Old Norse to Swedish to “Eh, good enough.” But whether it’s ancient or not, one thing’s for sure: it gave Minnesota a mystery worthy of its own Netflix special.
Alexandria embraced the controversial stone
Today, the Kensington Runestone lives at the Runestone Museum in Alexandria, where it’s displayed with pride, surrounded by Viking memorabilia, historical theories, and at least one taxidermied moose. Alexandria even built a giant Viking statue named “Big Ole” to stand guard over it—because nothing says “authentic history” like an 18-foot-tall fiberglass Norseman. Whether it’s fact, fiction, or the world’s oldest inside joke, the Kensington Runestone still draws curious visitors, heated debates, and more than a few people muttering, “Well, would ya look at that?” And in Minnesota, that’s about as close to a national scandal as we get.
