Memory Lane - The Groove is Smooth (September to December 1984)

After a couple months of steady activity - including two family reunions - Nancy and I thought wrapping up the summer with a quiet getaway would be relaxing. This was before the days of spending Labor Day at the family cottage. Avon Rae was still Rae and Marge's summer retirement home. For them, Labor Day was a somewhat stressful pack-up-and-go-home event. Not really conducive to relaxing. And in 1984, Wiser Times was a couple of decades away. We needed a venue.

We chose Traverse City State Park. It was one of my haunts in my late teens and early twenties. One of my best friends in those days was a slightly unpredictable fellow named Don Z. At six foot five he was a talented athlete, playing basketball in high school, swimming varsity in college, and competing (and occasionally winning) local AAU tennis tournaments. He ended up coaching all of those sports at one time or another during his high school teaching career in Dearborn Heights. 

He was also one of those guys who listened to himself more than any drummer. And once he had an idea in his head, it was hard to shake it. In the late '60s, our college years, we each had summer jobs in Bay City. Don worked for a roofer. I ran gear-grinding machines in an auto plant. Second shift. 

One Friday night in the summer of '68 or '69 (can't remember which), Don picked me up when I got off work just before midnight. We were going camping at Traverse City State Park. But first we were going to fulfill one of Don's dreams (today we would say check an item off his bucket list). That would be to cross the dunes at Sleeping Bear State Park over to Lake Michigan and back - in the dark. Did I say he was also a little daffy?

So I jumped into Don's metallic-aqua '67 Mustang hatchback, already loaded with our camping gear, and buckled up. We pulled out of Bay City right about midnight and headed north on I-75. In those days I-75 ran west out of Bay City to Midland and then up the west side of Lakes Houghton and Higgins. We got off at Clare and took M-115 northwest to Beulah. From there we tacked our way up a couple of county roads to Sleeping Bear. 

There wasn't much traffic (in the middle of the night) so we made good time, arriving I believe between 2:30 and 3:00 am. The park was closed (duh) so we parked along the side of the road and hopped the gate. Looming before us was all the sand in the world. First there was the over 100 foot climb up the east side of the dune. No biggie for a couple of twenty-somethings. Then it was the walk across the mostly barren and very hilly expanse. 

If I'm remembering correctly the distance across the dunes to Lake Michigan at the point of our crossing was about three miles. I clearly remember how quiet it was. No visible fauna. Just the occasional shrub. It was weird, but strangely enjoyable. It felt like we were the first people that had ever been there. 

Once we reached the western edge, about 4:00 am I'm guessing, we were about 100 feet above the lake. It was gorgeous. We could see the moonlight shimmering on the vast lake below and ship lights off in the distance. We descended the steep slope in what I would describe as out-of-control hops. Once at the water's edge, we sat for about five minutes basking in the moonlight. And feeling pretty impressed with ourselves. Then we did it all again in reverse.

We made it up, over, down and back to the car without incident in a little over an hour. But we were pretty tired. Both of us had been up for over 20 hours at that point. We took a nap in the car for about an hour, then drove the 35 miles over to the entrance to Traverse City state park where we got in the waiting line for check-in. This was before the state park reservation system. It was first come, first serve, and the park gates didn't open until 8:00 am. So we got in another long nap.

I remember that first trip fondly as one of the few really unique things I ever did in my youth. We did it a few more times over the next couple of years, but it was never quite the thrill it was the first time. The last time we did it, as we crested the last ridge on the Lake Michigan side, we could see a thunderstorm coming toward us across the lake. We made it back to the car in record time, just ahead of the downpour.

A few years ago while on a long weekend up north with friends, we stopped by a lookout point on the north end of the dunes. It was the first time I had ever seen them in daylight. It wasn't quite the same.

Suffice it to say, for our 1984 trip to Traverse City we took a less circuitous route. We started with a stop at my parents' home in Linwood. A convenient refresh and renew stop about half way to our destination. Here we are poised for the second part of our journey.

The backdrop for this shot is our tried and (not always) true 1981 diesel Oldsmobile Delta 88 wagon. It was a work horse (as long as the temperature was above freezing). We bought this tricked-out modern-day Conestoga because we couldn't get all our stuff into Nancy's Chevette. Despite our efforts, we couldn't get it all in this cruiser-weight vessel either. Note the enormous bundle on the roof rack and the loaded bike rack hanging off the (hidden) air foil.   

But enough of our packing challenges. We made it safely to beautiful Traverse City State Park by mid-afternoon and pitched camp. This popular campground had been the site of previous family getaways, one of which was chronicled in an earlier post The Honeymoon Continues. That post included pics of our family camp setup. This trip we focused on the beach. First the players, recovering from an initial dip in always chilly Grand Traverse Bay. A fine looking crew.

Here Ted is refining his music sensibilities through my trusty Hitachi boom box. An old Jackson Browne cassette tape most likely.

And Christy, by now a seasoned beach bunny, getting her equipment just right.

As you can see in the next two pics, in the early '80s the water levels were rising in the Great Lakes (they were to peak in 1986). The beach was still inviting but not quite as spacious as it had once been.

Still, it was a great place to mingle with the local population.

And make new friends.

Here's a final shot from the trip. Christy back in the wagon armed with one of our classic trip munchies - giant pretzel sticks.

Back at home, we ushered in October. In the LeRoy family October is birthday month. Nancy, her brother David and both her parents were all born in October. Of special note in '84 was father Rae's 70th birthday. Here are just a few pics of what was a grand event. First we have the guest of honor flanked by one of his closest friends Rupert Bell. Peeking in by Rupert's shoulder is Trudy Shimmin, wife of George, a good friend from Rae's work life.

Taking a breather from the festivities here are John Engstrom, another longstanding friend, and Marge Vorhees, wife of Roy, yet another close friend.

We had a cake appropriate to the event, naturally. By my count, each candle represents about 2.3 years. I think there was a fire code issue with using 70 candles.

The candle ratio was also helpful with this tradition. Here's Rae giving it his best shot.

Standing by ready to assist Rae in the shot above are from left to right Rae's sister Inez, Nancy, son David and daughter-in-law Barbara. Peeking in from behind Nancy is Ruth Engstrom, wife of John (two pics back). 

Later in October we celebrated Nancy's birthday in typical fashion with cake and ice cream at our Dearborn digs. Here's a shot of the birthday girl, still young enough to have a proper number of candles on her cake.

And old enough to blow them all out.

October wrapped up in its usual way with Halloween parties, costumes and the odd parental practice of helping their kids solicit candy from strangers. In this shot Ted and Christy are exploring which one of them would look best dressed up as me.

Not sure how Ted dressed up for trick-or-treating as he was with his mother on Halloween. But this was Christy's final choice. Scary.

In November we continued our budding tradition of hosting house parties. Our Dearborn house had limited space for such activities on the first floor - a moderately sized living room, decent dining room and average kitchen. Sufficient to handle our furniture, but a little cramped for crowds.

To expand our entertaining capacity, we had our basement finished off with a second bath, a kids' play area and a large, carpeted rec room. It was furnished with comfortable seating, a bumper pool table, storage closets and a component stereo system. Party central. It became the site of many get-togethers in our Dearborn years, especially around the holidays. 1984 was no exception. Thanksgiving weekend we had several of our work friends over for cocktails and a little rock and roll. Here are a few pics. The ex-IRS people among you should recognize these faces.

In this shot, sitting left to right under the highly stylized built-in book shelf we have Paul S., Patty C. and Brian O. 

In this shot left to right are Clark (not an IRS-er but well known to many of us), Val O. and the notorious Bobby D. Bob has appeared in several previous posts as in the '80s he was a frequent companion and very close friend. He also created the two large photographs of Nancy and me that hang in our family room to this day. If you look closely, you can see Nancy's peeking out from behind Clark and Val. 

And a final shot of Nancy enjoying the moment. You may notice on the top shelf of the storage closet behind Val, there are about eight boxes of slide carousels. Little did we know then that before we bought our first digital camera (2002), we would fill 80 of this 100-slide carousels. So far in my scanning I've gotten to Box 13. But who's counting. 

Christmas came right on schedule that year, and provided the usual fun memories. Here Christy and Ted are mugging for the camera during a holiday visit to Rae and Marge's. 

Nancy joins in the fun.

Back in Dearborn the scene is set for Christmas morning. 

The customary "pre-mania" photograph.

And finally, happy kids and an even happier dad (once everything was assembled).

And a final note for the year. You may recall the opening pic in my first post about 1984. It was of the thermometer on our back porch on January 1st. Here it is again, to refresh your memory.

It says 10 below. We thought that was cold. Here is that same thermometer on the last day of 1984.

Yes, it says 15 below. The bottom line for 1984 - we lost five degrees. 

I'm sure there are better ways to measure the value of 1984. We had a lot of fun, learned a lot, enjoyed our comfortable home and our time with relatives and friends. But the two cold winters are hard to forget. 

In my next Memory Lane post we'll wade into 1985. When everything changed again. Can't wait.

Grosse Pointe Charles 

Memory Lane - Beaucoup de Burks (August 1984)

In my last Memory Lane post, I made it to about the middle of August 1984. So I'll resume with the rest of August, and my second reunion of the year - the Burks. Not quite the production the LeRoy reunion turned out to be, but significant nonetheless. For a couple of reasons. The first is that in the '80s the members of the Burk family saw each other quite regularly in smaller gatherings, but it was rare for all of us to be in the same spot at the same time. The second reason was a special guest. 

The reunion was held at my parents' home in Linwood, Michigan, just north of Bay City. My parents had moved to Linwood from Bay City circa 1970, when the last of the children had escaped the nest. The house was a comfortable ranch on a good size lot in what I would call farm country. The yard was surrounded on three sides by cultivated fields with a culvert running along the back of the property. Fresh air, wildlife, fewer people. And a sizable vegetable garden, complete with a stretch of grape vines. My Dad was into homemade wine.

The weather was good that weekend, allowing us to spend most of the time out in the yard. Here are some pics. First up is a familiar face. Christy passing the time on one of the oldest swing sets in Bay County. Made out of pipes. This iron icon was cemented into the ground when my parents bought the house, and I'd bet a loaf of cheese bread it's still there.

Here's a closer shot of our swinger showing off her fancy hat.

Now for some cousins. This is my brother Jeff's daughter Dee Dee (short for Dolores) copiloting the little red wagon with Christy. 

Here's another shot of Dee Dee in her red jellies, all the rage in 1984.

Now for some boys. Ted with my sister Wendy's son Tristan in the middle of a heated round of Jarts. I think they're illegal now. Hurling pointed steel missiles in a yard full of kids. What's the problem?  

Also present was sister Wendy's daughters. Melanie, shown here on the aforementioned swing.

And Jennifer, apparently consulting with grandpa about some multigenerational issue.

Here's a couple more action shots of the kids enjoying the day. This first one is of Melanie and Ted haggling over a questionable badminton out-of-bounds call. In the foreground is Christy, risking injury from an errant birdie, running through the field of play trying to catch Heidi, our family dog.  

In the background you will note a couple of old friends. On the far right is Big Blue, the large six-person canvas tent that you may have seen in earlier posts. Next to Blue is its former partner, a 12 x 12 canvas screen porch. They were pitched that weekend to be aired out and serve as entertainment for the kids.

These two soul mates could be seen standing next to each other in campgrounds all over Michigan in the '70s and '80s. The porch has long been retired due to sun damage and other wounds suffered in the line of duty. Big Blue, however, currently hangs in residence in the Wiser Times garage, patiently waiting for an opportunity to serve. It turned 50 this last year.

In this next shot Tristan is treating Christy to a red wagon tour of the property. It looks like the mule may have just come up lame. 

But again the real story of this picture are the two relics in the background. My Dad's boat and the house trailer. The boat has a pretty standard history. My Dad loved the water and loved to fish. So shortly after he and Mom moved to the "country", he bought the boat. For most of its life the boat sat in the yard on its trailer waiting for action. Occasionally, Dad would take Mom out for a ride on Saginaw Bay. They never went out for too long or got that far from shore, as Mom really didn't enjoy the water. But for my Dad, having the boat scratched an itch.

The house trailer story is a little more complicated. As I have noted in previous posts, a key component of my parents' social life was always weekends up north. For many years they would head up to the Indian River area for a weekend, check into a favorite motel, and hang out with friends. Eventually, they tired of the motels and bought property nearby with the intention of building a small getaway cabin. 

For one reason or another the cabin was never built. My parents ended up selling the property and buying a different lot that had this trailer on it. But the trailer needed work. Lots of it. So my Dad towed it home to Linwood so he could put it in working condition. Slowly. Over time. As the mood would strike him. 

Suffice it to say, the trailer never left the yard. I think Dad eventually sold it before he and Mom packed up and moved to Florida in 2001. But this old gray ghost did provide fun time for my Dad as he tinkered with improvements. And occasionally the kids would use it as a fort or playhouse. But enough on the trailer. Let's get back to the reunion.  

In addition to the grandkids, all of my siblings were there. My baby sister Cindy who was living in Flushing.

   My brother Jeff down from his home in Gaylord.

And sister Wendy, also living in Flushing, here demonstrating her elegant badminton form.

Of course I was there, shown here applying one of my infamous bungy cords to a minor tent issue. 

And my bride Nancy, just taking it all in. And perhaps looking forward to happy hour.

First among the senior generation was my mother Dolores, managing the whole affair. 

And my brother's bride Sue chatting here with her mother Elaine. 

Our special guest for the reunion was my Grandma Katy. 

The reunion was also an 80th birthday party for Katy. She lived to be 100, but I'm pretty sure this was her last visit to Michigan. Here's another pic of Grandma and my mother in a private hobnob out behind Big Blue. The subject matter I'm sure was classified.

A couple of final shots from the day. First the grandchildren wrestling with ice cream cones (had to bribe them to sit still for a few moments). Melanie and Ted in the back with their hands in the air, Tristan in front of Melanie, Dee Dee in the shadows, and Christy in front of Dee Dee. From the look on Christy's face and her empty hands, I'm guessing her cone had taken a tumble. I'm sure it was still under warranty.

And as with the LeRoy reunion in my previous post, I'll finish with the group shot, captioned below. Not my best camera work, but still a classic.

Across the back are the men, me on the left, then moving to the right brother Jeff and my Dad. In front of us are the women, from left to right Sue, my mother, Wendy, Nancy, Cindy, and Jennifer. Standing around my seated grandmother on the left is Melanie. On the right are Tristan and Ted. On Katy's lap are Dee Dee and Christy. A memorable gathering for our extended family.

Things wound down on Sunday. We all packed up and headed our separate ways, not realizing how infrequently these gatherings would recur in the future. And never again would all of the attendees be in the same place at the same time.

The balance of August passed quietly with the usual lazy summer days. One exception was a joint party we had for Christy and Ted whose birthdays are one day apart. My recall isn't totally sharp on that event, but I believe we had one cake for the two of them. These pictures support that theory. Here's a shot of Christy blowing out three candles on the cake.

And one of Ted blowing out eight candles on what appears to be the same cake.

The less-than-optimum quality of these old photos make it hard to tell. But I think we pulled a "twofer" on these kids. That strategy would never work today, in our culture of individuality. 

The ploy did not dampen the mood it would seem, based on these shots. First, Ted opening what appears to be a kid-level portable cassette player.

Here Christy is carefully pulling the paper from another treasure - a playhouse set.

This final pic captured a glimpse into the future. Ted, plugged into his own world with what would be only the first of a long line of electronic escape devices. The smile says it all.

And Christy, gazing intently into the business side of her playhouse, inventorying the endless combinations of imaginary family dramas and furniture arrangements at her disposal. Her expression is as revealing as Ted's smile. Fun times.  

That brings us to the end of August and the end of this post. I'll be back soon with the rest of 1984.

Grosse Pointe Charles