Minnesota Town Wrestles With Changing Its Name to Ventura

The patron saint of this small farm town suffered his first indignity untold years ago, when locals lopped off part of his name and, for the sake of brevity--or maybe just because it sounded good--called their home St. Augusta, rather than St. Augustine.

But that slight was nothing compared to what may be coming.

Civic leaders here have petitioned a judge to let them sever their link with St. Augustine, a revered 5th century teacher of Christianity.

They want instead to call their town Ventura, after Gov. Jesse--he who has declared religion a sham for the weak-minded, who has wished to be reincarnated as a size 38DD bra, who has compared lusting after women to ogling wheels: “You can look at every new car, just don’t stick the key in the ignition.”

It’s not that town leaders have a beef with St. Augustine, although he didn’t cut much of a figure in a boa.

It’s just that they think Jesse “The Body” Ventura better reflects their underdog pluck and iconoclastic spirit as they fight off neighboring St. Cloud’s attempt to annex their most valuable land.

“Jesse came out of nowhere. He’s a self-made person. And that’s the way we see ourselves,” said Ollie Mondloch, chairman of the St. Augusta town board. “In the spirit of his attitude and his political beliefs, we would like to take on his name.”

But Mondloch does not speak for all of St. Augusta.

Truth is, while town leaders are gung-ho on the name change, other folks in this German farming community tend to clam up and grimace when the subject arises.

As bank manager Gary Goebel put it, most delicately: “This is a community with a very deep Catholic tradition. People might get a bad connotation from the name Ventura.”

Ventura backers respond: Pshaw.

“We have Washington, Jefferson, all sorts of places named after politicians who were less than truthful about various escapades,” Mondloch reasoned. “The only difference between them and Gov. Ventura is that he’s been honest.”

Plus, whether it conjures up a good image or a bad one, the name Ventura at least makes folks take notice. And St. Augusta--a town of 3,200 with so few businesses that the gas station mini-mart serves as the tanning salon, the pizza parlor and the bait shop--could use some extra sizzle.

“We needed a little publicity,” town supervisor Bob Kroll said, with candor that would make Jesse proud. “We thought, what the heck, why not name it after the governor?”

Lest anyone think this a cheap PR stunt, town clerk Harlan Jopp is quick to explain the legal rationale:

St. Augusta and the neighboring hamlet of Luxembourg are seeking to merge and incorporate as a city--a city that, naturally, needs a name of its own. Using St. Augusta would tick off the folks of Luxembourg. Using Luxembourg would enrage those in St. Augusta. So the town board decided to come up with something fresh. Ventura emerged the winner.

For his part, the governor says he’s flattered.

So is the mayor of a certain Southern California burg.

Although his first reaction was to fight for exclusive dibs on the name--”I’d like to wrestle for it,” he declared--Ventura Mayor Sandy Smith decided on reflection that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. “When you have a good name, what are you going to do?” Smith asked, sighing the sigh of the suddenly trendy. “People are going to want to use it.”

Including the Minnesota governor himself. Born James Janos, he took a fancy to the name Ventura after cruising California with a biker gang in the 1970s.

There’s a certain irony, perhaps, to a devout Minnesota farm town naming itself after a religion-bashing politician who in turn named himself after a California beach town.

But maybe it makes some sense.

Ventura, after all, is an abbreviation for San Buenaventura; the town was one of Father Junipero Serra’s original mission settlements. So the name does have a pious heritage.

St. Augustine, take heart.