MENOMINEE NOSTALGIA

Dear George, 

According to Thomas Wolfe, “You can’t go home again” — truly a paradox since we think of home as a safe place to which we can always return. Wolfe reminds us that change is an ever-present feature of reality. Thus, the world we return to is never what it used to be and we ourselves have inevitably changed as well. Still, “going home” remains emotionally powerful because it involves reconnection with one’s past, if only through one’s memories. 

I left my home town for college when I turned 18 in 1955. While I wasn’t to be a full-time resident again, I’ve visited regularly ever since. In certain ways Menominee is exactly the same as it was in the 1950’s. The magnificent natural environment is unchanged, with the town’s southern border stretching along the Menominee River and its eastern edge along the Green Bay shoreline. The three auto bridges to Wisconsin remain in place. The layout of streets is identical, and virtually all of the buildings are the same. And many of the important landmarks remain, e.g., the courthouse, the library, the marina, the Presbyterian Church, Henes Park. 

I made a list of 70 important places in my youth. About a third of them are still there. Ten have relocated to other parts of town or to Marinette across the river, e.g., the hospital, the newspaper, my high school. Over half of the significant places of my youth are gone. Thinking about these losses, I decided to poetically commemorate some of Menominee’s places from my youth that no longer exist. 

Love, 

Dave 

             The Sheridan Road Business District (now First Street) 

THE LUNDGREN REXALL DRUGSTORE 

Uncle Kent’s store was right on the Square 

Weekdays Steven and I would eat there 

Read the new comic books 

Batman battling with crooks 

And vegetable soup, more than fair 

THE LLOYD THEATER 

The Lloyd, my first movie at night 

“Meet Me in St. Louis” — a delight 

Margaret O’Brien, so swell 

Judy Garland, a sweet belle 

The World’ Fair, an incredible sight 

MONTGOMERY WARD 

Montgomery Ward carried home goods stuff 

Suspenders, black trousers with a cuff 

They had lawn mowers and tools 

Fake furs and fake jewels 

Endless kitchenware, more than enough 

THE A&P GROCERY 

The A&P carried yummy things to eat 

Creamy pastries, avocados, pig meat 

We were often low on cash 

So my mom would make hash 

But sometimes she’d get me a treat 

WASHINGTON GRADE SCHOOL 

First grade, Washington school, downtown 

The best times were on the playground 

Playing boys chase the girls 

Kiddies racing in whirls 

When the bell rang, we had to calm down. 

KIRBY STREET CANDY STORE 

The candy store, half a block from school 

The lemon gum drops made me drool 

Each piece cost a penny 

One nickel, you’d get many 

And caps for my cap gun, so cool. 

COMMERCIAL BANK 

I saved my savings at the Commercial Bank 

Whose interior was large but dark and dank 

I brought a nickel each week 

Since my income was bleak 

But years later, a small fortune in the tank 

THE VOGUE 

The Vogue was my mom’s favorite store

For dresses and scarves and much more 

Not as fancy as Green Bay But it didn’t take all day 

And she always found something she wore 

THE MENOMINEE HOTEL 

The hotel was right there on the Bay 

Known by salesmen as a fine place to stay 

Our glee club sang there 

For the Lions Club’s fare 

I can still hum those tunes to this day 

THE MENOMINEE HERALD-LEADER 

In wartime we lived by the Herald-Leader 

Though I wasn’t a newspaper reader 

The editor was Jean Worth 

Filled with wisdom and mirth 

With a great hunting camp on the Cedar 

G.I. SURPLUS STORE

G.I. Surplus, my number one store 

They sold gas masks, machetes, and more 

I’d buy camping gear there 

Khaki caps I could wear 

And the weapons we used to play war 

POST OFFICE 

We lived by the post office in the war 

A most handsome building, one floor 

Mother sent me there for stamps 

Letters to Navy camps 

That errand was my first big-kid chore 

THE MENOMINEE THEATER 

The Menominee was close to the Bay 

Saturdays, the kids’ matinee 

They charged just a dime 

Double feature each time 

Charlie Chan was the most, I would say 

 

                 North on Sheridan Road 

DR. SETHNEY’S OFFICE 

Dr. Sethney worked in his abode 

Near the drugstore on Sheridan Road 

We’d go there for shots 

Or when troubled by spots 

 Lundgren births were among his case load 

PRODUCERS DAIRY 

Producers Dairy was right on our street 

Three blocks from our house, that was neat 

I’d stop after school 

Chocolate chip made me drool 

And the butterscotch cones, oh so sweet 

M&M BREWERY 

The Brewery made Silver Cream beer 

A golden brew that fostered much cheer 

The tough teens drank Silver Cream 

Mostly jocks on the football team 

But myself and my group had beer fear 

THE D.A.R. BOYS CLUB 

I’d go to the DAR after school. 

Pick and I played a few games of pool 

Then basketball with Jack 

Who could dribble behind his back 

We aspiring pros found this cool 

DR. SEIDL 

Dr. Seidl was Menominee’s vet

We’d go there for care for our pet 

Mike got porcupine quills 

In his nose, gave us chills 

Dr. Seidl yanked them out, no vet sweat 

    West on Ogden Avenue (now 10th Ave.) 

COONEY’S GAS STATION 

Harry Cooney’s was next to the Square 

We entrusted our cars to his care. 

But they never checked the oil 

Caused the engine to boil 

Our poor Lincoln, a total repair 

THE OFFICE SUPPLY STORE 

Age four, my Mom took me to the store 

A pencil, an eraser, sometimes more 

Ogden Ave, a long walk 

We were quiet, no talk. 

Even so, this trip made my heart soar 

TENNIS AT ROOSEVELT SCHOOL 

Tennis practice was at Roosevelt School 

Two hours per day was our rule

Jerry Boucher was the best 

I was lumped with the rest 

But being on the team was so cool 

ST. JOHN’S CATHOLIC CHURCH 

The O’Hara’s would take us to mass 

A ritual of a very high class. 

Our family weren’t Catholics 

At best Lutheran mavericks 

But I hoped for a heavenly pass 

FIRE STATION

Dad would take me to the fire station 

I’d slide down the pole, such elation 

Then I’d climb on the truck 

Like a muckety-a-muck 

Firemen, to me, meant salvation 

DAIRY QUEEN 

The Dairy Queen was at the center of town 

I’d hop on my bike and ride down 

The vanilla was swell 

And the chocolate…well, well 

When the Dairy Queen closed, pout and frown. 

ST. JOSEPH-LLOYD HOSPITAL 

We were born at St. Joseph-Lloyd Hospital 

And returned now and then when still little 

Steven busted his arm 

Which we viewed with alarm 

But they sculpted a cast, made him fittle 

THE GATEWAY CAFE 

The Gateway. our teenage hangout 

Near the hospital, right on our route 

A grilled cheese and French fries 

Chocolate malts for the guys 

Football nights, we were always about 

BOWLING 

Our gang would go to the alley to bowl 

My pal Steppke, three hundred was his goal 

But one hundred for me 

Was a source of much glee 

I never could get on a roll 

ZEPHYR GAS 

At the bridge, the gas nineteen point nine 

Two gallons made teen cars run fine 

Gas wars, just ten cents 

Even so, an expense 

Still we drove there and waited in line 

THE OGDEN AVE. FAIRGROUNDS 

The fairgrounds were the circus’s lair 

Featuring lions and tigers and one bear 

We would go there at dawn 

Watch the elephants’ brawn 

Then trapeze artists flying through the air. 

                 The West End

BOSWELL GRADE SCHOOL 

Boswell kindergarten, my five-year-old job 

A nervous twit, terrified by the mob 

I walked there with Sally 

My five-year old pally 

U.P. winters, we small fry would sob 

BOURGEOIS’ GROCERY 

We got groceries at Franny Bourgeois’ store 

I accompanied my dad on this chore 

Potato sausage was home-made 

Liver sausage, the highest grade 

Mother cooked it up, made our hearts soar 

THE IDEAL DAIRY 

The Ideal on the west edge of town 

Open daily from dawn to sundown 

Two dips for a nickel 

As cheap as a pickle 

Lemon flake, we would have a meltdown 

             Broadway and Stephenson (22nd St. and 14th Ave.) 

MENOMINEE HIGH 

Age twelve, I was off to high school 

Basketball and swimming in the pool 

I did okay at art 

English grabbed at my heart 

But in woodshop they thought me a fool 

GARBELL’S SODA SHOP 

Garbell’s, across from M.H.S. 

A retreat from our academic stress 

Pinball games in the rear 

We would gather round and cheer 

Earl Powell, pinball king, such finesse 

BIKE SHOP 

The bike shop was right by our school 

Its owner, so handy with a tool 

He’d patch our inner tube 

Give the bike chains a lube 

Our repaired bikes would ride like a jewel 

BEYERSDORF’S GARAGE 

Herb Beyersdorf took care of our car

His garage right on Stephenson, not far 

He’d get our boat motor running 

This man had such cunning 

Without Herb, life would be too bizarre 

TRAUTNER’S GROCERY 

A Trautner stop riding home on my bike 

This grocery with treats that kids like 

A Milky Way, a Babe Ruth 

To satisfy my sweet tooth 

Two more miles and I'd greet my dog Mike

CHINESE BELLS DAY

Dear George, 

When my dad returned at the end of World War II, our family moved out to the country on the shore of the Menominee River. There were no other kids within a mile, and the river became the center of our universe. Swimming all summer long, boating in the autumn. The river froze in early December. We chopped holes in the ice to see how thick it was, and when it reached three inches we were allowed to walk across to Pig Island. Sometimes I did winter camping there, pitching my tent on a bed of pine boughs. Skating, sledding, ice fishing, hiking — the river was nearly as much fun in the winter as in the summer. 

By mid-March temperatures began to rise, the ice softened, and our parents told us not to. go out on it. One day, though, our Irish Setter Mike went for a walk on the ice, and he fell through about thirty feet from the shore. Our mother, home alone with us kids, ordered us to stay in the house, grabbed her winter coat, and raced out to the riverbank. She crawled on her stomach to where Mike was flailing in the freezing water, about to go under. We watched in terror from the dining room window. Grabbing him under his front legs, Mother pulled the 70-pound water-logged dog out of the water, and they made it back to the riverbank and into the house. That was the day our mother became our heroine forever after. 

All 180 miles of the river’s ice went out on a single day in late March or early April, the millions of tiny chunks rubbing together and making an enormous non-stop tinkling sound. My father named it Chinese Bells Day. Every year we carved the date of Chinese Bells Day into the Norway Pine wall that separated our living and dining rooms. The flowing river snatched up flotsam and jetsam along the shore as it made its way to the mouth at Green Bay — tin cans, bottles, stuffed animals, canoe paddles, etc. I put on the hip-waders that my grandfather had used for trout fishing and stepped into the ice flow near the riverbank, trying to haul in floating items with a bamboo pole. I’d always snag a few oddities, but never any true treasures. 

Aside from Christmas, Chinese Bells Day was the most significant holiday of the year for us children. A change in our physical environment, and it signaled the transition from winter to the upcoming swimming/boating season. I left for college at 18, my parents sold the river house in the early seventies, and I never experienced Chinese Bells Day in person again. Though we now live 600 miles away, I do still celebrate Chinese Bells Day in my mind every year at this time. 

Love, 

Dave

LOST MENOMINEE

               

Dear George, 

According to Thomas Wolfe, “You can’t go home again” — truly a paradox since we tend to regard home as the safe place we can always return to. Wolfe reminds us that change is an ever-present feature of reality. In effect, the world we return to is never the same as it used to be and we ourselves have inevitably changed as well. Still, “going home” remains emotionally powerful because it involves reconnection with one’s past, if only through one’s memories. 

I left my home town for college when I turned 18. While I wasn’t to be a full-time resident again, I’ve visited regularly over the years. In certain ways Menominee is exactly the same as it was in the 1950’s. The magnificent natural environment is unchanged, with the town’s southern border stretching along the Menominee River and its eastern border along the Green Bay shoreline. The three auto bridges to Wisconsin are in place. The layout of streets is identical, and virtually all of the buildings are the same. And many of the important landmarks remain, e.g., the courthouse, the library, the marina, the Presbyterian Church. I made a list of 70 important places in my youth. About a third of them are still there. Ten have relocated to other parts of town or to Marinette across the river, e.g., the hospital, the newspaper, my high school. But over half of the significant places of my youth are gone. Thinking about these losses, I decided to poetically commemorate some of Menominee’s places that no longer exist. Here are some of them. 

Love, 

Dave

THE OFFICE SUPPLY STORE 

Age four, Mom took me to the store 

A pencil, an eraser, sometimes more 

Ogden Ave, a long walk 

I don’t think we’d talk 

Talk or not, this trip made my heart soar 

BOSWELL GRADE SCHOOL 

Boswell kindergarten, my very first job 

A nervous twit, I was scared of the mob 

I walked there with Sally 

My five-year old pally 

Temp zero, we peanuts would sob 

WASHINGTON GRADE SCHOOL 

First grade, begin Washington, downtown 

Thrilling times there on the playground 

Playing boys chase the girls 

All racing in whirls 

When the bell rang, Teach said to calm down 

THE LLOYD THEATER 

The Lloyd, my very first movie at night 

“Meet Me in St. Louis” — such delight 

Margaret O’Brien, so swell 

Judy Garland, a sweet belle 

I now was a big kid all right 

THE A&P GROCERY 

The A&P carried yummy things to eat 

Creamy pastries, avocados, fatty hamburger meat 

We were often low on cash 

So my mom would make hash 

But some days she’d buy me a treat 

G.I. SURPLUS 

G.I. Surplus was my favorite store 

Selling gas masks, machetes, and more 

I’d buy camping gear there 

Khaki mittens to wear 

And the gadgets we used to play war 

THE IDEAL DAIRY 

The Ideal on the west edge of town 

Open daily from dawn to sundown 

Two dips for a nickel 

Cheaper than a pickle 

Their lemon flake cones, we’d melt down 

THE MENOMINEE HOTEL 

The hotel was right on the Bay 

Known by travelers as a fine place to stay 

Our glee club sang there 

For the Lions Club’s fare 

I can still hum those tunes to this day 

ST. JOHN’S CATHOLIC CHURCH 

The O’s would take me to Sunday mass 

A ritual, for sure, of high class 

Our family weren’t Catholics 

At best Lutheran mavericks 

But I hoped for a heavenly pass 

THE FIVE AND DIME STORE 

The Five and Dime if you wanted a deal 

My Christmas gifts, they were a steal 

Red ribbons for my mother 

A cap gun for my brother 

And the Topps baseball cards were surreal 

THE SMELT RUN 

The smelt run arrived every spring 

Huge nets our fishermen would bring 

We would wade in the river 

Though the cold made us shiver 

Then we voted for the queen and the king 

THE MENOMINEE THEATER 

The Menominee was near to the Bay 

Saturdays, the kids’ matinee 

They charged just one dime 

For a rowdy fun time 

Charlie Chan was the best, I would say 

THE D.A.R. BOYS CLUB 

I’d go to the DAR after school 

Pick and I played a few games of pool 

Then basketball with Jack 

Who could dribble behind his back 

For aspiring pros it was cool 

ST. JOSEPH-LLOYD HOSPITAL 

We started life at St. Joseph-Lloyd Hospital 

And returned once or twice when still little 

Steven busted his arm 

Which we viewed with alarm 

But they sculpted his cast, made him fittle 

UNCLE KENT’S REXALL DRUGSTORE 

Uncle Kent’s store was right on the Square 

School days, my brother and I would lunch there 

Read the new comic books 

Batman battling the crooks 

The tuna fish sandwiches, just fair 

COONEY’S GAS STATION 

Harry Cooney’s was also on the Square 

We filled up the Lincoln right there 

But they forgot to check the oil 

Caused the engine to boil 

Cost my dad a major repair 

CITY BUS 

The city bus circled the Loop 

Friday nights for Rick and his group 

They’d flirt with the gals 

Fool around with their pals 

Tell the driver the latest teen scoop 

 

PRODUCERS DAIRY 

Producers Dairy on Sheridan Road 

Three blocks from our family abode 

I’d stop by from school 

Chocolate chip made me drool 

But butterscotch, I would explode 

M&M BREWERY 

The Brewery made Silver Cream beer 

A golden brew that fostered much cheer 

I knew guys who drank Silver Cream 

Mostly dudes on the football team 

But myself and my group had beer fear 

THE VOGUE 

The Vogue was my mother’s favorite store 

For dresses and hats and much more 

Not as fancy as Green Bay 

But it didn’t take all day 

Plus she always found something she wore 

THE GATEWAY CAFE 

The Gateway. our teenage hangout 

Near the hospital, right on our route 

A grilled cheese and French fries 

Chocolate malts for the guys 

Football nights, we would give out a shout 

GARBELL’S SODA SHOP 

Garbell’s, across from M.H.S. 

A retreat from academic stress 

Pinball in the rear 

We would gather round and cheer 

Earl Powell, pinball king, such finesse 

FOUND MENOMINEE 

True, my world’s no longer there 

But change is a curious affair 

New restaurants, new shops 

Many interesting stops 

Menominee still has its flair

ED THE DIVER

 

Dear George, 
When my father came home from Japan after the end of World War II, my parents had very little money, and so we moved out of town to my recently deceased grandfather’s cottage on the banks of the Menominee River. It was a momentous change for myself and my siblings. Among other things, we spent a great deal of time in or on the river. Swimming every day during the season and taking our green rowboat for expeditions to Pig Island, the Channel, the dam, Indian Island, the lumberjack hut, and Little River. 

Because of the importance of the river in my youth I read with some interest a recent news story about Ed the Diver from my home town. Ed Bieber had taught his kids to fish in the Menominee River, but, fed up when they kept losing his expensive lures, he bought scuba diving equipment so he could retrieve them. It took only one outing, and Ed got hooked on retrieving lures and other treasures from the river bottom. He started spending all of his free time on his new preoccupation. Currently he collects about 10,000 lures a year from the Menominee River, as well as 4 or 5 Apple watches and 6 or 7 i-Phones. Ed broadcasts his adventures on TikTok, Facebook and Youtube, and he has 40,000 followers on Instagram. He makes enough money cleaning up and re-selling the found lures that he’s quit his day job as an electrician and spends all of his time on his lure-retrieval business. He’s branched out from the Menominee and also dives in the nearby Fox, Oconto, Peshtigo, and Wolf Rivers. He estimates that he and his partner also remove a ton of trash from the rivers each year. 

I am thrilled by this story. As children, we constantly sought to find treasures on the river bpttom, swimming underwater with our eyes open, believing that pirates might have lost gold coins on the river floor. The most exciting time of the year was in late March or early April when the ice melted and began flowing eastward toward Green Bay. We stepped out in the river in hip-waders and retrieved items flowing along with the ice with a bamboo fishing pole. Buckets, bottles, planters, patio chairs, what have you. 

The Riverside Country Club offered lessons for members’ kids, and we went once a week, then played on weekday mornings before noon. The ninth hole was infamous at Riverside because it was right along the river’s edge, and, if you sliced your ball, it was gone in the river. When playing, we were always thrilled to get to the ninth hole because we’d strip to our undies and search the water for golf balls. On a good day we might each get half a dozen or more golf balls, enough to keep us in stock for weeks and weeks. I still have exciting feelings about retrieving golf balls from the river bottom. I can understand Ed the Diver’s obsession and wish I could join him. 

Love,

Dave

SOURCE: Jeff Alexander, “SMALL TOWNS: Marinette’s ‘Ed the Diver’ making a difference in local rivers; www.wbay.com; May 4, 2023.

GOOD TIMES IN WATER WONDERLAND

Me, L, Katja, and A at Farm

Dear George, 

Katja and I are just back from our weeklong trip to the U.P. and Northern Michigan. Our son J persuaded us to come up to our family farm in Menominee. He and his family were there, along with our nephew Jacob, his wife Kazandra, and their kids August and Delphine, all of whom had come from Brooklyn. We had a great time. It was a treat to see our grandkids, and we hadn’t seen Jacob and Kazandra’s family in over a decade. Their twelve-year-old daughter Delphine overheard me saying that my sister Vicki and I rarely talk on the telephone, so she called Vicki and said I was on the line, then told me that Vicki was on the line for me. Vicki and I had a nice talk, and it wasn’t till later that I learned that Delphine had arranged the whole thing to repair our fragile brother-sister connection. 

I’d had my 85th birthday just two weeks before, and J arranged for a family birthday celebration at Berg’s Landing, our favorite Menominee restaurant. My grandkids, A and L, gave me thoughtful and fun presents that they’d bought in New York City, and my grand-niece Delphine gave me an artistic birthday card that she’d drawn. I don’t think I’ve had a birthday party with a family group since high school, so it was a memorable occasion. 

As always, we had a good time in Menominee. This included visits to Henes Park, the marina and historic district, the House of Yesteryear and Main Street antique malls, the Rusty Wolfe art gallery, the Goodwill and St. Vincent de Paul stores, the Menominee County Museum, the Stephenson Library (with its bargain book sale), and meals out at the Watermark, Culvers, and Mickey-Lu Bar-B-Q. I found being at Farm very peaceful. I think it’s because I associate it so strongly with our parents and with wonderful family get-togethers over the years. Everybody was happy to be there.  My cousins Ann and John Buscher came to Farm for lunch, and Ann brought along her amazing family genealogy book.  Then Jacob interviewed me about our family history, an interesting and fun conversation. 

After four days in Menominee, we drove up to St. Ignace where we had whitefish at the Village Inn and stayed overnight at the Budget Host. Katja bought her supply of Murdick’s Fudge for friends, and then we crossed the Mackinac Bridge, driving down the Lake Michigan coast through Petoskey, Charlevoix, Traverse City, Manistee, Pentwater, Ludington, Grand Haven, and South Haven. These are such pristine towns, filled with boutiques and restaurants, and offering magnificent views of Lake Michigan. We stayed overnight in Ludington, did an eight-hour drive back to Cincinnati, and picked up our little dog Iko the following evening.  Now we're resting up and enjoying happy memories.  

Love, Dave 

STUFF I USED TO DO

 

Dear George, 

 I’ve started up again in my OLLI class in Advanced Poetry after a three-month break. This week I’ve written a poem inspired by our growing up on the Menominee River. I’ve enclosed it here with a dedication to my siblings Steven, Peter, and Vicki, with whom I shared these experiences. 

Love, 

Dave

STUFF I USED TO DO 

So many things I did in the past 

Like climb our willow tree to the top 

Cops and robbers, such a blast 

Collect the caps from bottles of pop 

Put a worm upon his hook 

Barefoot races in the snow 

Catch a tadpole in the brook 

Pull a bloodsucker off my toe 

Ride no handsies on my bike 

Find a four-leaf clover in the grass 

Toss a snowball at a girl I like 

Fish the lagoon for perch and bass 

Marbles for keepsies after school 

Trap fireflies in a Mason jar 

Wear an eye patch, that’s so cool 

Search the sky for a shooting star 

Crawl underneath a barbed wire fence 

Carve my initials in a beechwood tree 

Ice cream cones, two dips for five cents 

Take second place in the spelling bee 

Poke a stick into an ant hill 

Find new treasures at the City Dump 

Bumper car driving, such a thrill 

Stand at the pier, hold my nose and jump 

Collect nightcrawlers at the graveyard after dark 

Listen to boxing on the radio 

Pitch my tent at Mason Park 

Shoot some free throws like a pro 

Row to Pig Island in our boat 

Eat wild berries off the forest floor 

Carry a frog in the pocket of my coat 

Read Batman comics at my uncle’s store 

Battle my brothers in an acorn fight 

Skip a stone upon the lake 

Light a campfire in the dark of night 

Lift the rocks, catch a garter snake 

I miss these things from days of old 

Netflix gets boring when all is told

On the Road Again

DEAR GEORGE, Recently long-time friends, Lois and Bob A, invited us to come up to visit them in Menominee, my Upper Peninsula home town. It was our first trip in 18 months. We drove up from Cincinnati via Chicago and Milwaukee in two days, arriving in Menominee in the late afternoon on Sunday. Menominee (pop. 8,150) is located on Green Bay at the southern tip of the U.P., about 55 miles north of the city of Green Bay. It’s right across the Menominee River from Marinette, Wisconsin (pop. 10,608), our twin sister city and the site of my father’s family home. Returning to Menominee and Marinette is always an emotional experience for me. I left for college in 1955, yet much of the town remains the same some 66 years later: the layout of the streets, most of the houses and buildings, the churches, the city parks, the courthouse, the library, the marina, the cemetery, the airport. On the other hand, many of the important places of my youth have either disappeared or been relocated: my grade school and high school, my father’s law office, my uncle’s Rexall drugstore, the DAR Boys Club, the Lloyd and Menominee Theaters, the Five and Dime, the GI Surplus Store, Harry Cooney’s gas station, Garbell’s soda shop, Sonny’s grocery, Trautners, the Gateway Cafe, the hospital, Herb Beyersdorf’s garage, the Ideal Dairy. While I was clearly home again, a big chunk of “home” now exists only in my mind.

Our friends live in a magnificent home that they built by hand themselves on the shore of Green Bay. Because we are so landlocked in southwest Ohio, it’s easy to forget how wonderful it is to live on the water. Menominee is spread out for three miles along the shoreline of Green Bay, Lake Michigan’s largest inlet, and the town’s southern boundary is along the Menominee River (the border between the U.P. and Wisconsin). Menominee’s main business district is situated on the bay, as are its five city parks. You never forget being on the water, the visual scenes are hypnotic, and the ready access to the bay and the river make the outdoors a central part of residents’ everyday lives: swimming, fishing, boating, water-skiing, kayaking and canoeing, skating, ice boating.

We have a regular routine as tourists when we visit Menominee and Marinette, and we did much of it this trip: driving around the loop, Henes Park (with a brand new pavilion bathhouse), the boutiques in the historic downtown district, the marina, the magnificent Spies Public Library, art galleries (including Marinette’s Rusty Wolfe Gallery which could just as well be on Madison Avenue in NYC), “Simply Charming”, Pine Tree Mall, antique malls, thrift shops, the Riverside Cemetery, Riverside Drive in Marinette, Sequins, Joe’s Cheese Shop, and a trip on River Road to the location of our old family home. We were saddened by the loss of Weathervane Antiques and Younkers department store, but pleased with the new Menekaunee Harbor Park and boat launch with its attractive regional sculptures and with the new House of Yesteryear antique store in downtown Menominee. I bought a Menominee Maroons T-Shirt for $12.95 at the drugstore, and Katja got us two U.P. hoodies and some $75-a-pound cheese at Joe’s. Katja and I had a date night at Berg’s Landing, Menominee’s finest restaurant, and enjoyed a lot of other local eateries as well: The Watermark [successor to Schloegel’s], Applejacks, The Brothers Three, the Serving Spoon, and Culvers where we had our traditional lunch with my cousins Ann and John B.

In the late 1960’s and early 1970’s my parents purchased and renovated an 1880’s farm near Birch Creek, five miles north of town, and my Seattle niece and nephew, Jennifer and Greg, currently operate the family property as a successful Airbnb. Katja and I went out to Farm on a day between rentals and Jim and Sharon K gave us a tour. My parents, Vic and Doris, would have been thrilled. There were new roofs on four of the buildings, the Barn’s sagging foundation had been shorn up, the guest house had been renovated, the bridge over Birch Creek repaired. All in all, the property was more inviting than it’s ever been, and it’s no wonder that nearly all of the Guest Book comments refer to it as “magical” or “mystical”. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit, though it was bittersweet. We’ve had so many happy family reunions over the years with lots of joking and laughter, but now, with the loss of parents and siblings, it’s more of a place for quiet reminiscing and nostalgia.

We decided to return to Cincinnati by way of the Upper Peninsula and the Mackinac Bridge. The 195-mile trip from Menominee to St. Ignace and the bridge reminded me of how remarkable the U.P. is. We passed through about a dozen villages and small towns, but only one had a population of 10,000 or more (Escanaba) and most had 200 people or less. The U.P. is largely a wilderness area, and we spent the vast majority of time driving through evergreen forests along the Lake Michigan shoreline — a wild and beautiful country. The Upper Peninsula is about the size of Denmark, but contains only 3% of Michigan’s population. Population density is 19 people per square mile (compared to 94 people per square mile for the U.S. as a whole). Yoopers, as natives are colloquially called, enjoy an outdoor life — hunting, fishing, boating, camping, hiking. Our trip made me once again contemplate how much my personality and attitudes were shaped by growing up in the U.P. LOVE, DAVE

Vic's Hometown Photos

Dear George, 

My dad, Vic L., was an excellent amateur photographer.  Thanks to my brother Peter, who restored many of Vic’s photographs from the late 1930’s through the early 1950’s and beyond in the form of postcards, we’ve enjoyed a treasure trove of images from our childhood family history.  The majority are of family members, friends, and our home on the river, but a number are also of various sights in our home town of Menominee, Michigan, and her sister city, Marinette, Wisconsin.  Here are some of my favorites.

Happy Thanksgiving to All,

Dave 

Interstate bridge connecting Marinette and Menominee

The Interstate Bridge at night from Riverside Avenue (Marinette) 

Lauerman's Department Store, Dunlap Square, Marinette

Bay Scenc

Sailboats on Green Bay 

The Ann Arbor Car Ferry (Frankfort, Manitowoc, Menominee)

The Menominee Marina 

My Grandfather's Menominee Rexall Drug Store  

Interior, soda fountain, Menominee Rexall drugstore 

Businesses on Sheridan Road at Ogden Avenue (Vic's law office was above the M&M Light & Traction Co.)

Washington Grade School (attended by my siblings, Steve, Peter, and Vicki and myself) 

The Ogden Club 

The Menominee River 

Dam on the Menominee River 

The Ideal Dairy (2 dips for a nickel) 

Local Industry 

Local Industry 

Company houses 

Local Industry 

Dunlap Square at Christmas time, Marinette 

Marinette railroad depot 

Nighttime Main Street scene, Marinette 

Seagulls and Menominee River at Menekaunee (Marinette)

Fisherman at work in Menekanuee (Marinette)

 

The Parker-Watts Circus

Circus Parade on Sheridan Road 

Jim brought life to the old farm with sheer muscle

By VIC LUNDGREN

Special to the Menominee Herald Leader

Saturday, Sept. 22, 1979

In late 1960 the Vic Lundgrens and the Vic Mars reluctantly bought the Eugene Salfai farm in Birch Creek.

We checked it out on a bleak November day — the buildings were in ruins.  It had not been farmed for some years and it was a heap of desolation.

Spring came — Birch Creek bubbled — and I fell in love.

There were 14 seedy buildings and a 52-year-old romantic.  I needed either a bulldozer or help.  We were living on the river bank at that time, and my aide-de-camp was Francis LaPlante.  He took one look at the farm, reminded me of his bad back, and said simply, “You need Jim!”

Jim came out several nights later, after working a full day at Vernco, in the maintenance department and he was lean and lanky with a great grin.  As a matter of fact, he was built like a very muscular ironing board.  Very little talk about money, mainly, “Let’s get to it!”

Our first task was to fill up a large open well in the front yard.  Jim Hoffman had dropped off a load of dirt and we went to it.  Jim exploded.  He hit that shovel with his boot as though he intended to bury it, handle and all!  That well never had a chance.  It was a tour-de-force that I shall never forget.  I had the good fortune to have worked with the “Leonardo of the Spade.”  That was his first lesson…

The farm house was a small log cabin built in 1889 by Lars Jonson of Karly, Sweden. He was obviously an old-world craftsman with an eye for proportions but seventy years later it was a sad sight.  The logs were covered with tarpaper.  Not just the ordinary stuff, but that horrible, ochre colored imitation brick pattern.  On the inside they had been plastered over and then draped with oilcloth that hung down like a funeral shroud.  The sill logs rested on field stone and had rotted out.

Jim felt the choice was between a bulldozer and a torch.  I played for time.

        It was two years before I was able to get Frank Piontowski to raise the structure, replace the sill logs and set everything down on a firm foundation.  While we waited, Jim and I demolished six of the ruins.  

Joe Krygoski and Uncle Sam dug us a pond in front of the house.  My slight touch of pregnancy was beginning to show.  

It was good that I had my family because I became an anchorite.  Every night after work, and on weekends, we were at it.  Jim’s kids grew up as orphans.  The dirtier the work the better Jim liked it.  Nothing dismayed him.  He could do anything and moreover he did.
        Our worst job was getting the plaster off the logs.  Jim borrowed a huge wire brush, set into an electric drill to remove the old plaster.  The result would have shocked Ralph Nader.  Our lungs turned to stone and our noses were merely an ornament.  When Jim came out after our first bout, I timidly suggested that just maybe, we should work outside for a bit.  Jim said, “Let’s save the dessert!” and back to the pits we went.  

In case you think he was one of the apostles — forget it.  On Saturday afternoon he would end quite early and apologetically say, “Let’s get an early start in the morning.”

I’d pop out of bed and get things ready by 8 a.m. and wait and wait until I turned blue.  Jim had gone to Crivitz, the place of his birth, and that was always a violent night for Jim and for Crivitz.

One lesson that Jim has never learned, is that on occasion, someone else should buy a drink.  Never a Sunday word from the dog, but he’d be back on Monday evening full of fire, and with no comment except his eloquent bloodshot eyes.

The barn lacked pizzaz.  The pitch of the roof was so steep that no snowflake could hang for long.

Driving down Bay de Doc one day I saw a possible solution, a cupola on a barn similar to mine at the Hoefgen farm.  It was broken down, but nonetheless a dandy.

I measured the barn and sketched the cupola and for two years I dreamed and read about them.  John Gorey gave me a sheet metal weather vane of a running horse.  That fanned the flame.

Each trip in the country was an adventure.  I read every book in the Spies Library and finally settled on coveting my neighbor’s cupola.  Jim built it on the front lawn.  It was large and sexy and my sleep was restless.  The pagoda roof was neat!  The crossed flags of Sweden and America gleamed on the north quarter.

We arranged for a crane to come on a Sunday morning to heist her in place.  All of the neighbors rallied around and were slackjawed.  Children clapped their hands and screamed.  Jim was late.  (He had spent Saturday night in Crivitz.)  Spreadeagled on the roof, he yelled down that things were just dandy.  In the meantime, the wind had carried the cupola back and threatened his rear.  Wow!   

By luck or design, it shifted into position and Jim nailed her down in the critical spots and skun back down the roof to the rolling earth.

Everyone congratulated Jim on his feat of derring do.  My joviality was forced. 

One bad puff and he would have been a panny cake and I would have been honor bound to adopt his family.  It’s the first thing Jim looks at when he comes to the farm and I always check her out, in the early dawn, on my way to the facilities.

         Real terror struck Jim only once during our several years of travail.

Doris wanted him to help hang wallpaper in her bedroom.  That’s where he drew the line!  His excuses were masterpieces.  She finally pinned him down and said, “Jim, this is the day,” and he said, “Let’s do it in the morning.”  Doris said, “What’s better about tomorrow?”

Jim answered, “Maybe I’ll die tonight!”

We do not have a living room in our house.  We have a parlor.  That was the way Jim’s mother had it and that’s good enough for us.          We also learned that you have dinner at noon and that in the evening you have supper.

Jim confessed one day that the guys in the shop had nicknamed him “Bent nail.”  It delighted this depression kid because I was always making do.

  Jim had three washtubs of junk in his car.  They held all of the leftovers from working for Tony Nerat, helping anyone who needed help, and the outmoded stuff that Signal tossed out.  In those tubs we found lots of answers in trying to restore an old house that had no square corners.

I soon learned that Jim would not work alone.  When I was off on an Ansul trip, I would lay out an elaborate work plan only to find zilch on my return.  We enjoyed each other’s company.  I’m sure he felt good about creating something out of chaos.

By this time an overall plan was glimmering and I was six months along.

Then too, we had classy friends.  Jim loved to visit with Jean Worth and the Jacobsens.  We never talked about Jim to anyone and tried to hide him in the barn when friends dropped in  Who would wear the kohinoor to a thieves’ ball?

I was going up the ladder a bit under Jim’s tutelage.  After all you can’t be an apprentice third class forever.

When I got the washing machine going by pushing the right circuit breaker my good wife would smile, emotionally pat me on the head and say, “Just like Jim!”  It makes my day.

Jim liked us well enough but he was critical of my wardrobe.  He confessed that he had owned a suit and a necktie when he was married, but someone else needed it and he gave it away.

Jim’s coveralls were the uniform of the day.  Sure our social activities were restricted to an occasional beer with Carl and Evvie in Birch Creek but he looked good.

Jim was always scouting for treasures.  He bought an old breakfront for $1.50 because he liked the curve of the glass and then gave it away to the first person who liked it.  I also remember the great oak dining room table with five extension leaves that filled my farm for awhile.  He gave that to one of the guys at Vernco for his hunting camp.  The Metropolitan Museum is still cursing.  You didn’t dare say that you liked anything that Jim had.  Never!  Never!

Just to show you, when Jim remarried he brought his new bride to see the farm.  It was like Michael Angelo giving the pope his first view of the Vatican.  Jim and I feel about the same affection for the farm.  When they came in the kitchen for cup of coffee, Doris complimented Carolyn on her purse.  She said it was a wedding present from Jim.

At that point Jim took the purse, dumped the contents on the table and handed it to Doris and said, “It’s yours!”

When Jim was out of town, that meant either Crivitz or the American Legion, he kept his important money in his right shoe.  Now that he makes a bundle in Milwaukee, he walks with a noticeable limp on Saturday night.

Things are changed now.  Jim is a dude with a sharp wardrobe and I wear the coveralls, but he’s still my kinda guy, that Jim Dana.  

Footnote.   Vic Lundgren, a local attorney, and his wife Doris have lived in  the old Salfai farm since 1963.  It took them two years to get the old cabin liveable.

The farm is located off U.S. 41 about six miles from Menominee.

Eugene Salfai had lived at the farm until the late 1950s and had been there since the early 1920’s, farming the land plus working in town.

Although Lundgren originally bought the farm with Vic Mars, former Ansul vice president, Mars later traded Lundgren his share for other land.  Lundgren has since expanded the farm to 240 acres, buying a few adjoining 40’s.

  Jim, the subject of this creative piece, works maintenance for a foundry in Milwaukee.  He visits the Lundgren and the old Salfai farm often.