Memory Lane - Everything Changes (April - August 1981)

At the end of my last post, Nancy and I had returned from our first trip to Indian River with my parents. After shaking off the effects of too much fun, we resumed our daily routine. There were a couple of noteworthy events in the following weeks, getting together with the relatives for Easter and Fathers Day. More opportunities for the kids to grow their relationships. Here's a shot of Brian and Ted enjoying another afternoon.

Joined now by another younger cousin, one-year old Matthew, Brian's little brother.

Here we have a memorable Fathers Day father-and-son shot, in our Sunday best. My how things have changed.

This next shot is memorable for a couple of reasons. If you recall in an earlier Memory Lane post there was a pic of me with a couple of bosses receiving my first managerial performance award. Here is Nancy receiving a suggestion award. It was the early days of automation, and she and Gary B. on the right had developed one of the first computerized inventory control systems. It was a first step in using computers to keep track of the thousands of pieces of paper that were typically resident in an IRS office collection function. Presenting the award in the center was our division chief Dick H.

The second reason this picture is noteworthy is that Nancy had obviously put on some weight. Yes, she was pregnant. It was going to be an exciting summer.

In late May in anticipation of the arrival of our little bundle of joy, Nancy and I bought our first house. It was what was referred to in Dearborn as a "baby Ford", built in the '20s when the West Dearborn neighborhood was filled with Ford factory workers. But more on the house later.

I've always thought that one mark of friendship is who shows up to help you on moving day. On the day we moved across town from Harper Woods to Dearborn we had some very good work friends that pitched in. We didn't see much of them in later years, as they moved on to other places as work friends often do. But at the time, we were pretty close. Here are a few pics from the day, taken at the loading point in Harper Woods. This first one is of Dick and Mary and Bob and Patty (remember the ski trip?) loading some of the smaller items into their car. There appears to be evidence of a little glitch in the foreground. 

Here Gary B. and Jim R. are loading some of our most valued possessions into a moving van. The scary part is that about everything in this picture except for the brown overstuffed chair remains part of our household. 

In this shot Ted is contributing to the move by having some fun on behalf of the rest of us.

And one final shot of Gary and Jim, enjoying their discovery of the pictures from last year's office Christmas party.

Shortly after the move, things began to happen. Some were anticipated, like in this first photo of Christy at approximately minus two months. What a cutie.

And some where unanticipated, one of which led to this interesting photo.

Turns out, Nancy had a semi-precarious condition that complicated her pregnancy. This was discovered just before our first anniversary. Here we are celebrating with a cake while Nancy was in the hospital for a few tests. The cake was not covered by insurance but graciously donated by the hospital.

Ordered to take off work and avoid strenuous activity for a couple of months, she made the best of it. In an effort to slip gently into motherhood, she practiced with the resources that were at hand. Like Ted and Madaras cousins Melanie and Tristan. 

Of course, there is more to this kid-management thing than supervised play. There's nutrition.

The resulting hygiene therapy.

And shaping the minds of tomorrow's citizenry, for which a specialist was brought in.

Of course, as it was summer a large chunk of Nancy's pre-birthing convalescence was served at this inviting spot - Avon Rae cottage. 

In 1981 Avon Rae was pretty much as it had been when built about 60 years ago (other than it was once moved several feet further back from the water's edge during some high water times - the 40s?). The old wooden porch, the propped up window shutters (note the right side of the house) and the weather-worn beach stairs were still in use. The next decade would see many changes.

The usual relatives contributed to Nancy's R&R days, doing their best to keep spirits up while not consuming too many "spirits" in front of the patient.  Here's a shot of Nancy (in the yellow hat) with two of her support group members, sister-in-law Barb and Aunt Evelyn, enjoying a day on the beach.

Our trusty sand-puppy Heidi standing (or actually lying down) on guard duty.

The paternal overseers of the manor, Nancy's dad Rae and her Uncle Ken, were veterans of several previous like adventures and not at all concerned about the outcomes of the therapy. 

Cousins Ted and Brian were again on hand, pretty oblivious to the whole "rest and relaxation" thing.

Younger cousin Mathew was also present, going through his early cottage orientation exercises. In this shot he is being introduced to one of our oldest Avon Rae rituals - twisting the cap off of a cold Molson Canadian. You can't pass on traditions too early.

I spent much of my time that summer in this position, out in the lake hiding from chores and explaining to Ted how his days as "number one" would soon be coming to an end. He was cool about it.

As you can see from this last shot of Nancy's Ipperwash summer, the therapy worked well. The patient was in fine (although a different) shape and ready for the big adventure.

About a week before Nancy's due date, we were back at home preparing for the big event. There was a lot to do, having only been in our new house a few weeks. We were working franticly to be ready. Below is one of the few pics that survived from that time. I include it here for an important reason. Note the safety equipment I am wearing, the deft manner in which I am wielding my pliers, the firm grip I have on my victim (a broken sash cord) and my sober look of confidence.  

This sort of captures my approach - then and now - to house repairs.  Some would call this "unconscious incompetence". But I assure you I was wide awake during the whole debacle. The repair turned out okay, if I remember correctly. But what I didn't realize at the time was that my laissez-faire attitude toward the manly art of home maintenance would periodically lead to tense marital moments, and occasionally to collateral damage to our beloved dwellings. We'll be revisiting my colorful "Mr. Fixit" style from time to time in this narrative. But for now, let me get back on topic. 

The big day finally came. At the time we were living in Dearborn, due to our recent move. Nancy's doctor and servicing hospital, however, had not moved with us. How inconvenient. That meant we had to make it across town - 20-40 minutes depending on traffic and the time of day - once the hour of urgency came. We had been to birthing classes and had paid attention. We had Nancy's bag packed and were timing contractions, so we made it to St. John's  hospital at Mack and Moross with time to spare. 

Having been through this adventure once before (son Ted), I had my cool on. Nancy was pretty cool herself. Well, as cool as any woman can be about to go through a procedure that no man would survive. She is prepped, wired up and ready to get her body back.

And here is what passed for space-age technology in 1981. Looks like something from Star Trek - The Original Series. No voice interface here.

Photos from the next few hours remain classified. But I can tell you that there was some heavy breathing, some hand squeezing, a trip to Tubby's for a sandwich (that was just me), and some wardrobe changes (again, mostly me). And only the required minimum in the way of disparaging remarks along the lines of "you did this to me". 

It was a challenge, but I made it. And was present for the actual birth after about nine hours in the labor room. Here is the first unclassified picture of our little bundle of joy, and my lovely bride. 

Here's a second pic of Christy with eyes open. She did that shortly after arrival (a hint of the curious and engaged individual she would become).

As noted in the subtitle of this post, everything changed in the wee hours of August 20th, 1981. The way it all changed, at least the first thing that changed, was the fundamental question of our family. Instead of conversations like, "What do you want to do? I don't know, what do you want to do?" They now all centered around, "What about the baby?" As it should be.

Bushed from all my hard work, I left the ladies dozing off in their respective recovery wards and headed back to the west side for some sleep. Early the next day, I was back to enjoy the creation of our new human. The oldest magic in the book, but one that never gets old. Here she is on Day 2, wide awake and taking it all in.

And stretching her legs. Sort of.

Here we have mother and daughter bonding. At least this is the start. From what I have seen after two daughters, this process never really ends. 

At this juncture I'd like to back up a day or so. Christy was born one day before her brother Ted's fifth birthday. This was somewhat inconvenient as the family baker was not available. So dear old Dad was pressed into service. After receiving detailed instructions from Nancy, I took a crack at producing a suitable birthday cake for Ted. I am happy to report that I did not injure myself nor damage any equipment.

"Nice job", you are probably thinking. "Not bad for a first effort." Your enthusiasm will likely be dampened by the realization that this one-layer cake actually started out as a two-layer cake. But due to difficulties in the process, only one layer agreed to come out of its pan. And that only after some fancy utensil work. 

My technique was adequate, but my notes were lacking. I forgot the step where you pre-apply shortening and flour to the pans so the cake can be lifted out easily. Oh well. Ted didn't mind as between the two of us we pretty much ate the whole thing. What Ted did care about was his present - his first two-wheeler - shown below in all its training wheels glory. 

Ted's birthday having been managed, it was back to the hospital for closing ceremonies. Going home. By Day 3 Christy was pretty alert. Looking around.

Learning about nutrients.

Learning to express herself.

Getting to know Dad.

Mastering what I call a full-body yawn - right down to her toes.

And sneaking in one more good nap before leaving the comfy confines of St. John's hospital.

And then it finally happened. Mother and daughter were bundled up and wheeled out to the car for the cross-town trip to Dearborn. There she met her big brother, who was waiting to see what all the fuss was about. This is the first picture in our library that could be called "the Burk kids".

So the beginning was over. Christy settled in nicely at home, and in those early days was a pretty easy baby typically curious and content. Here she is reclining and visually exploring from her baby seat, an item that today would no doubt be confiscated by the child welfare authorities. But she liked it.

Things brings us to the end of August 1981, when "everything changed", and the end of this post. We'll pick up with our early parenting adventures in my next edition of Memory Lane.

Grosse Pointe Charles

Memory Lane - The Early Groove (November '80 to March '81)

 

Having partied pretty steadily since our wedding in June, Nancy and I were slowly realizing that it was time to ease up on the gas and find a more sustainable cruising speed. Not that the partying was over. Let's be clear about that. But our thoughts were turning to more domestic issues. And as our first holidays together were upon us, it seemed a good time to figure things out for the long term.  

Thanksgiving was on the horizon. It was to set the tone for the duality that faces many new couples - how do we give proper holiday attention to both sides of the family? I say new couples because as one's family grows with the addition of children, there comes a time when the burden of travel for holidays shifts. But in the beginning, it's on you. 

For us Thanksgiving is the least problematic version of this dilemma, as we had four days to work with (as long as we blew off work on Friday, which we always did). And one or two-day old turkey and fixings are nearly as good as the original, with considerably less work. So as long as we fit everybody in over the long weekend, we avoided trouble. 

We had one other circumstance that impacted our approach to this first Thanksgiving, and as it turned out for several years thereafter. At the time, son Ted lived with his mother 120 miles from us but only a few miles from my parents in Linwood (just north of Bay City). So it was reasonable to all that we should have Thanksgiving dinner with the LeRoy side of the family, who were local, then head north on Friday for a leisurely weekend with Ted and my folks. And that's what we did. 

We were pretty busy learning about each other's families and finding our niche, but we did manage a few pics that weekend. Here are some from the Thanksgiving Day gathering at Nancy's brother Dave's place. In this first one I am assisting Nancy's mother Marge with some table setting tasks, like a good new son-in-law. Little Brian is auditing our technique.

Likewise, here's one of Nancy working on the stuffing. Unlike me, she was permitted to actually interact with the food.

Here's one of me after dinner, in recovery. I appear a bit groggy. No doubt due to early afternoon cocktails followed by gastric overload. It didn't help that my Manhattan habit was still in its early stages. I probably lost the points I had made with the table prep thing.

And then we have this classic. Nancy's dad Rae in his holiday raiment, sharing a post-dinner moment with grandson Brian, who in the spirit of the holiday is sharing in Rae's holiday raiment. 

On Friday we trucked up to Linwood as planned. After overeating again, we managed to get some downtime in. Here's one of yours truly spending a little time outside with Ted. I was feeling a bit bloated that day. Probably too much turkey.  

And one of my favorite pics from the early days. My parents enjoying their visit with Ted.

Moving into December, Nancy and I were preparing for our first Christmas together. We found that our respective customs were pretty similar, so blending them came pretty naturally. The early days of the month were busy with identifying gift ideas, shopping (old school - at the mall), wrapping presents and assembling toys. There weren't many pics of these preliminaries,  but I did find this one of a scruffy Santa's helper putting together an HO gauge electric train.

However, there were plenty of pictures of the various celebrations. First, a few days before Christmas we stopped by my sister Wendy's house in Flushing. The cousins exchanged gifts and had their usual good time. In this first pic we have Nancy with niece Melanie. 

Ted, of course, was in fine form. 

And nephew Tristan.

Finally sister Wendy with her eldest, Jennifer. 

In later years, these cousins drifted apart and really didn't see each other that much. But at the outset, they were pretty tight. 

Next was Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at our little house in Harper Woods. At the time, we had the "one gift on Christmas Eve" rule. Here's a shot of Ted dressed for dinner, taking advantage of that rule. 

Nancy's folks came by for Christmas Eve cocktails and dinner. Here's a shot of the guests with the Burk boys. At the left that's actually, me. Not Francis Ford Coppola. 

Christmas morning was more relaxed. The dress code was less formal as shown in these pics of Ted and the old man. It appears that I may have been slightly overcome by fumes from an overheated electric train transformer. 

By late morning we had recovered enough to tidy up and head over to Nancy's folks' for Christmas Day Part 2. Here Nancy and Ted are ready to depart.

At Rae and Marge's we settled in with the extended family for Christmas dinner. Here's Marge, the culinary engineer, hard at it.

Grandpa Rae with a wide-eyed Ted taking it all in.

Nancy on the phone, most likely with the Canadian cousins for their traditional Christmas greeting.

And a shot of little Brian and Ted spending another family event together.

Early in 1981 there was another celebration. Nancy's dad Rae decided to retire from his career in sales. It was a grand affair held at Marge and Rae's house. It was well attended by Rae's lifelong friends and close relatives including a large contingent of Canadians. Here's a pic of Rae in his retirement glory, enjoying the spotlight for the evening.

Yes, that's a jigsaw puzzle of a double cheeseburger. Obviously, we spared no expense for the celebration. I don't know if Rae ever put this puzzle together. But I can tell you he liked a good cheeseburger (the puzzle has survived in the family to this day; for those who like a challenge, it's in residence at Wiser Times).

February of 1981 turned out to be a unique month in my life. It was the one and only time I have ever worn skis. I'm not sure who had the original idea for a cross country ski trip. It might have been me, as I like social gatherings. But this turned out to be a little more social than expected.

First, we were a group of five couples. We rented a two bedroom cabin in the Traverse City area. The math should have triggered the thought that more space would have been nice. But we were young (at least youngish), and excited about getting out of town with friends. Included in the group were our work friends Bob and Patty and Dick and Mary, along with two old friends of mine and their brides, Jeff and Helen and Jim and Ruby. I might add that only a couple of our group had ever been cross country skiing. We all thought it looked pretty easy. Yeah. Here's a group shot of us properly shod and making our way to our first run. We look like we know what we are doing.

Some of us managed to keep our dignity through the first day, like Dick (our boss at the time),

and Jim (my oldest friend), 

his bride Ruby (shown here refreshing her antifreeze),

and Jeff (another old friend from college days) and his bride Helen.

Nancy and I also looked the part as we posed for this shot. Sort of my Jean-Claude Killy look.

A few of our entourage had some difficulty, as it turns out even cross country skiing runs have frequent turns, small but challenging hills and inconveniently placed trees. For the most part we spared these tormented souls from embarrassing photos. But not entirely. Here's one of Patti after an unfortunate tumble, considering if she should get back up or just call for a cab (this of course was pre-Uber). 

And in the spirit of full disclosure, one less-than-graceful fellow spent much of the weekend in this position, here taken out by a mighty pine tree he couldn't avoid. More like Peewee Herman than Jean-Claude. I meant to do that.

Back at the cabin we relaxed, salved our bruises and recovered from our battle with nature. The common room of the cabin was just large enough for us to gather around and share the day's adventures. Here a few of us are celebrating our Nordic prowess over an upscale repast. Well, upscale for in the middle of nowhere.

In this shot Ruby and Nancy have just realized that this was only day one and that we had to do it all over again tomorrow.

And here Nancy is inventorying our medical supplies to see if we have enough to get me through the second day.

Finally, after tidying up from our lavish cocktail hour and dinner we converted our cabin "great room" into sleeping quarters for six. I can't remember who drew the long straws and won use of the two bedrooms, but it wasn't Nancy and me. So with sleeping bags laid out wall to wall, with a narrow path carved out to the one bathroom, we all crashed for the night. 

Despite the close quarters, we all awoke the next morning fresh as daisies, ready for another day. As depicted in this shot of me at dawn's early light. What, me worry?

We made it through this survivor-like weekend and eventually arrived back home to our little bungalow in Harper Woods. We were quite happy to get back to our daily groove of work we enjoyed, lunches at our favorite spots, after-work happy hours and dinners with friends, and relaxing evenings at home with our little puppy Heidi.

But before the winter was out, we were to have one more up north adventure. That was our first trip to the little town of Indian River. 

Through the years the Indian River area has played a big part in our lives. Currently, the Kuhlman branch of the family has a comfortable cottage on Burt Lake, just north of Indian River. Daughter Cathy and her family visit Matt's parents Kit and Paul for fun weekends at the cottage as often as they can, building happy memories.

But earlier, in the 80s and 90s, Indian River was the main getaway destination for my parents, Wendell and Dolores. About every third weekend during those years my parents would pack up their party clothes and their little lap dog and drive the two hours and 30 minutes to Indian River. They had a couple of motels they would frequent, most often The Northerner. 

There were three bars/night spots at that time on what I would call "the Indian River strip". They were Vivio's, Mor Joi's and the Indian River Inn. Once there and freshened up, my parents for two days would cruise from one of these places back and forth to the other two, pausing only to check on the dog, clear their heads with a little fresh air, and when absolutely necessary get a little shuteye. 

The hook for my parents was that they knew several people from the Bay City area (where they had lived their whole adult lives) who either had cottages in Indian River or had retired and moved there. The bartender at Vivio's included. So the weekend was really a marathon reunion with old friends. Those trips to Indian River were the centerpiece of my parents' social life for years. And they loved it.

Still sorting out our groove, Nancy and I thought we should get into the swing of things with Wendell and Dolores. So in March 1981 we headed up north with them for the first time. My sister Wendy and her husband Dick came along. It was a lot of fun, but we quickly learned that we were out of our league. 

They ran us ragged. About 10:00 pm each night we were ready for the sack, but we couldn't drag them back to the motel until after midnight. They seemed to get stronger as the night went on, as did their "old" party crowd. We would make future trips up north with my folks, but I always remembered this one as the time I learned I was a wimp. Here are the few pics from that trip that have survived. I was a little groggy each morning from running with a fast crowd, but managed to pull out the camera every once in a while. First, a shot of the ladies - sister Wendy, Nancy and my mother.

Wendy's husband Dick.

And my dad strolling around a piece of land he owned just outside of town and hoped one day to build on. I guess the motel bills could be a nuisance.

Dad had this land for years, first planning to put a small house trailer on it, then maybe a cabin. But before he could realize those plans, he and mom ended up buying a place in Florida instead. But he loved to dream about it. Here's a couple more shots. the first of him explaining the glory of the outdoors to a fascinated Dick.

In this one he is sizing up the work that would be needed to restore the little trailer that had come with the land purchase.

You'll see that trailer again as dad eventually towed it to his yard in Linwood for repairs, where it lingered for years. As noted, it never went into full service. But my dad had hours of enjoyment tinkering with it and making plans. 

For a break from the "strip" establishments, what did we do? We went to another bar, of course. This one a little off the main drag but just as friendly and welcoming.

I always liked this pic of Wendy. It sort of captured her personality. That of living in the moment. She spent much of her working life managing bars and restaurants of various kinds, and knew her way around a shuffleboard table.

We made it through the weekend up north (again) and arrived back in Harper Woods safe and sound where we resumed our newly fashioned lifestyle. This seems like a good place to close out this episode and go to press. I'll pick it up next time with April 1981, and some very big news.

Grosse Pointe Charles