A Day Trip To Port Huron, MI

We took an overnight trip to Port Huron, Michigan to donate two family heirlooms to the Port Huron Historical Museum. 

Gary's New Testament has been in his family for almost 200 years and was given to his great-great-grandmother Margaret McDonald Scovile by John Riley, a Native American important in Michigan history. It will now be part of the museum and eventually go to a Native American museum in the future. 

The John Riley New Testament belonging to Margaret Scoville

Andrew Kercher, Manager of Community Engagement for the Port Huron Museums, did a quick search and determined the New Testament was published by the American Bible Society. The ABS was founded in 1816. This book may date between 1818 and 1820! Read my blog post about the bible here.

My father's flea market find of a brass oil can for a lighthouse fourth-order fresnel lens will also be part of the museum collection.

The brass fuel can for a fourth-order fresnel lens

Port Huron is situated where Lake Huron narrows into the St. Clair River, which then flows past Detroit and into Lake Erie. It is the site of Ft. Gratiot and the Ft. Gratiot Lighthouse, the first Michigan lighthouse.

St. Gratiot Lighthouse complex

My contact Shelly arranged for us to stay overnight in the lighthouse keepers home, built in 1870. The house is beautifully restored circa 1930. Bunk beds in the bedrooms are perfect for groups.

Freighters

We had lunch at Freighters, enjoying the beautiful view of the river and the freighters streaming downriver. 

freighter under the Blue Water Bridge

Freighter coming down the St Clair River

After lunch we walked along the river as a freighter went by, stopping at the Thomas Alva Edison Museum in the Port Huron Train Depot.

Thomas Alva Edison museum

There were nice educational displays about Edison's life and work, and artifacts like this beautiful Edison machine that played wax cylinders.

We stopped along the St. Clair River to see historical markers, like this stone marker. We later met the man responsible for this memorial!

Next stop was the museum housed in the Carnegie Center. We saw artifacts of native beadwork.

And Great Lakes Maritime displays.

Musical instruments and a violin maker's shop were in another room.

They have a nice collection of vintage clothing, Civil War era rooms, and much more!

We met with members of the Port Huron Museum and the Blue Water Indigenous Alliance and formally donated the John Riley New Testament. I told the story of my research into the bible and what I had learned about Riley. The group had recently held their first Pow Wow in many years. Read about it here.

For dinner, we enjoyed the shade and cool breeze on the patio of Tia Gordes. The Mexican food was excellent. I had chicken mole and Gary had poblanos.

 Back at the lighthouse, we walked around until dusk.

 And then settled into the 1930s era restored rooms to read our books until dark.

I was pleased not to miss the sunrise over Lake Huron. The sun was a ball of bright red.

For breakfast, we returned to downtown Port Huron to Chef Shell's, right next door to where we had dinner. We had wonderful omelets but had to take home a doughnut each after watching streams of people coming to buy a dozen at a time.

 We found out why they advertise they have "the best darn donuts!"

On the way back to the lighthouse we saw another ship and talked to a lady who warned us that the largest ship on the lakes was due in 40 minutes. We ran back to the lighthouse to turn in our key. At the Coast Guard Gift Shop, we bought a coffee mug and magnetic bookmarks.

First, we saw a 'salty.' This area has one of Michigan's salt mines. I researched the Michigan Room at the public library and found that Gary's great-great-grandfather Jacob Bellinger appears in the 1919-1922 city directories as a manager at Morton Salt in Port Huron.

Gary decided to walk up to the top of the light. I did not go since I have been experiencing vertigo.

Then finally the MV Paul S. Tergurtha came by, blowing its low horn to warn the sailboat and other craft to clear way.

 It was time to say goodbye to this historical light. 

I brought home several beach stones and a magnetic book mark.

Before leaving town, I had to stop at the Sew Elegant quilt shop where I picked up fabric with a daisy meadow print.

We hope to make a day trip back to Port Huron. We had a lovely time.

Once Upon a River by Bonnie Jo Campbell

Seven years I lived in a small Michigan town in a county described as being a downstate 'Up North,' an area of wide open spaces and farmland punctuated by woods and wild. We knew a self-sufficient family who supplied all their food by hunting, fishing, and gardening. I heard stories about family feuds and wild lives.

The local library book club was led by a retired professor from Kalamazoo. The group wanted to read Bonnie Jo Campbell's book Once Upon a River because of the setting--the rural area around the Stark and Kalamazoo Rivers just a half hour away. The book was so popular that the library couldn't get enough copies of the book for the group and we read another book.

the view from my house

As I finally read Once Upon a River, sexual assault and abuse have been in the national conversation. Women everywhere are sharing their stories.

Meanwhile, reports warn against eating fish from Michigan's rivers tainted with PFAS, including the Kalamazoo River. The rivers in the book, which is set around 1980, are polluted by factories.

I had picked up another timely book. Or perhaps a timeless book.

Once Upon a River is about Margo whose hero is Annie Oakley. She is a deadly shot, can prepare game, fish and travel the river, avoiding the water contaminated by factories. Margo is a beautiful young girl who does not understand life or herself, and who is preyed upon by men. She confuses sex with safety and protection.

At fifteen Margo does not yet understand that she has been raped. The rape is witnessed, leading to a series of catastrophic events. With no mother or father, and unable to trust her remaining family, Margo takes her grandfather's boat to live alone on the river. She finds temporary shelter with a series of men. With each relationship, she grows in her understanding of what is right and wrong, who she is, and what she wants for herself.

Campbell's writing is exquisite, vividly descriptive. Margo is an unforgettable character, strong yet vulnerable, negligent of her outer beauty that lures men, capable of skinning a muskrat or shooting a man. With its beautiful writing, unique character and setting, and timeless themes, I would heartily recommend it for book clubs.

Read an excerpt from NPR here:
https://www.npr.org/2011/07/14/137638326/wild-water-river-runs-deep-with-ferocity-heart
Read an interview with Campbell here:
http://www.raintaxi.com/trawling-the-river-of-words-an-interview-with-bonnie-jo-campbell/

***

Marlena by Julie Buntin

As a girl, I'd had a friend who died. We were close. I didn't talk about it. When you grow up, who you were as a teenager either takes on a mythical importance or its completely laughable. I wanted to be the kind of person who wipes those years way; instead, I feared, they defined me. from Marlena by Julie Buntin

After reading Ohio by Stephen Markley and Once Upon a River by Bonnie Jo Campbell, books about Midwest small towns, drugs, abuse, and growing up, I decided it was the right time to read Julie Buntin's Marlena. The novel focuses on Marlena, a teenage girl in Northern Michigan caught in a web of poverty and drugs, and the lasting impact Marlena had on the narrator, Cat.

Buntin's novel caught so many things for me. The painful nostalgia for a moment in time, the haunting loss of a loved one, how in youth our naivety blinds us to darker realities.

I want to go home--a phrase that's stuck on a loop, that I hear before falling asleep, waiting in line for my coffee, tapping at the elevator button and rising through the sky to my apartment, worrying the words like a lucky stone, and yet my desire is not attached to a particular places--not to Silver Lake, not to Marlena, not to Mom or Dad or Jimmy. I want to go home, I want to go home, but what I mean, what I'm grasping for, is not a place, it's a feeling. I want to go back. But back where? from Marlena by Julie Buntin

The narrator, Cat, is living in New York City with a good job and a loving husband. She is an alcoholic. Cat tells the story of being the new girl in a small Up North town, looking for a new best friend. She develops a girl crush on a charismatic and beautiful older teen who lives next door. Cat, fifteen, wants to be like Marlena--cool, daring, exciting, experienced.

After her dad left them, Cat's mom moved the family from Pontiac to her childhood vacation spot, Silver Lake. Silver Lake is a half hour away from the school and Walmart and the nearest mall is ninety miles downstate. It is also down the road from the mansions along Lake Michigan where the 1% come to play, and a historic, elite Methodist enclave. Cat's mom has a drinking problem and with no job skills is lucky to get a job cleaning a summer estate.

Catherine had been on scholarship at a private school, a good student, college-bound, a bookish loner. Her older brother walked away from a college scholarship to help take care of his mom. Moving is a chance to reinvent herself as Cat, an edgier and more risk-taking girl.

Marlena's mom disappeared years back and her addict dad has a meth lab in the woods. Marlena cares for her younger brother as best she can, but he is often alone with no food in the house. Already at seventeen Marlena is an alcoholic, she trades sexual favors to obtain drugs, and although smart she skips school.

For eight brief months, Cat became a part of Marlena and her world-- the 'best days ever'-- with a group of friends who accepted her, her life with filled danger and excitement.

****

By July we, like twenty percent of Michigan's population--Mom loved that statistic--were on food stamps. from Marlena by Julie Buntin

Michigan ranks 4th in the country for drug problems, with heroin and cocaine in Detroit and opioids everywhere else. An estimated 20% of Michigan adults drink to excess and 24% of young men are binge drinkers. Beer is everywhere; the state ranks number 10 in the number of IPA breweries in the country.

The Pere Marquette River in Baldwin, Lakes County, the poorest county in Michigan

Michigan has its urban centers mired in job loss and poverty, the racist legacy of redlining and 'urban renewal' with its wholesale destruction of African American neighborhoods. Pontiac, Cat's hometown before they move to Silver Lake, has a poverty rate of 34%.

But the rural Up North communities also are impoverished. I just returned from a trip to Lake, Roscommon, and Ogemaw Counties with poverty rates over 28%, higher than the state average of 24%. Michigan ranks as one of the worst six states in the nation for the number of children living in poverty--one in five.

There are also pockets of great wealth located in Oakland County where I live, including Bloomfield Hills, one of the top 20 richest cities in the country.

Meadowbrook Hall, the second largest private home in America, built in Oakland Co, MI by the heir to the Dodge fortune

The city where my grandparents lived in the 1960s is now one of the ten wealthiest cities in the state, where I grew up is number 15, and my current city is number 30. These suburbs were built to house workers in the auto industry, from the top brass to the union workers like my dad. Their playground became the small 'Up North' towns--modest cabins for the middle class, posh resort homes and yachts in a marina for the 1%.

My dad's cabin

These remote villages and towns became dependant on tourism, the hunters and fishers and snowmobilers and skiers and family vacationers. So that side by side, for a few weeks each year, the very wealthy live amongst the local poor. And then the economy plummeted, and the working and middle classes could not afford the cabins and vacations Up North.

Summertime transformed northern Michigan. Kewaunee swelled to twice its normal size. from Marlena by Julie Buntin

Pentwater Lake

We spent two years in a resort community on Lake Michigan. Between July 1 and the end of August the town was filled with campers at the state park and the Methodist campground, cottagers, bed and breakfast tourists, and people living on their sailboats in the marina. At summer's end, everything closed. Anyone who had enough money left town for their winter homes in Texas or Arizona or Florida or even Metro Detroit. Several bars were open, and the bank and post office. The one grocery store that catered to the marina kept half the store open for basics. In winter 193 inches of snow fell.

Years before we lived there, we used to go to the Methodist family camp. We were impressed by the beauty of the lake and marina, the channel feeding into Lake Michigan with its gorgeous sand beaches.

The beach at Pentwater

One day when I was in town checking out the tourist shops and ice cream parlors I remarked to a teenager that it must be a beautiful place to live. He scowled in answer. It wasn't until we lived there that I realized how isolated and boring a place it had to be to grow up in. Graduation class sizes were in the teens, the entire K-12 school system had about 260 students.

Lake Michigan at Pentwater

When we left Philadelphia when our son was two I thought a small town would be a wonderful place to raise our son. It turns out that Mayberry doesn't exist. Maybe it never did exist.

*****

As I read Marlena I wondered how much I had missed, all the different places we had moved and stayed a few years, never really understanding the community that deeply. I worked with teens but what did I know about their lives? One boy in the inner city of Philadelphia told me I did not understand real life. Pacifism did not work on the streets where one didn't get mad, one got even. In a small rural town, our son would ask why classmates could not read, had no telephones or books at home, or why their dads were in jail.

I remembered 'my' Marlena, a gregarious and confident girl from a well-to-do family who took the 14-year-old me under her wing--I was the new girl in school--and encouraged me to be outgoing, lose weight, have fun. She dropped me, age 15, and a year later I saw her going through the school hallway, her books held close against her chest, eyes straight ahead, slightly leaning forward in a fast walk. She put purple chalk on her eyelids in the restroom before school. She had changed. Years later I stopped by her home. Her brother told me she had married three times and lived in an Up North small town; her mother didn't remember which one, but it started with an M.

Cat is filled with nostalgia for that moment in time when she first felt alive and a part of something. And she is filled with survivor's guilt and regret. She struggles with alcoholism which might destroy the life she has built. What she experienced was horrendous; she saw the destruction of a smart and beautiful and courageous girl, a girl she wanted to be.

Just one girl, one fictional girl.

How many thousands across Michigan are we losing today? To human trafficking. To opioid addiction, meth, heroin, alcohol. To poverty, sexual abuse... How many across the country, the world?

What impressed me about Marlena was the story and the voice and the Michigan places and the heartbreaking REALNESS of it all. I am glad I finally read it.

Up North and Back

This past week we took a trip 'Up North', which is an area in Michigan demarked by an invisible line but which is universally agreed (by Michiganders) to be where there is more wilderness than shopping malls. 

We traveled about four hours from Metro Detroit to Baldwin, in the middle of a state forest. We stayed overnight at the Red Moose Lodge on the Pere Marquette River, perhaps the only visitors not there for the Salmon fishing.

The Pere Marquette River in Baldwin, MI

We spent a few minutes sitting beside the river, from which a fish now and then jumped with a splash.

We dropped off the innards of my husband's Victrolia and Edison Disk Player with the only repairman in the state. I stopped at the Fabric Peddler quilt shop in Baldwin and picked up a panel and matching fabric. My sudden interest in panels is from reviewing Creating Art Quilts with Panels by Joyce Hughes. I can't wait to try her techniques out on these large flowers!

Next, we stopped in Farwell at the Elm Creek craft and garden shop. We bought a patio set of two chairs and a table that fold up. Perfect for our front yard garden! I found another panel I had to get.

At the Surry Road quilt shop in Clare, I bought some fabric for a special project.

We then headed to West Branch where my brother has a log cabin, complete with Indian, outside of town.

The trees were coming into full color when we arrived.

 Every day we headed into town to the West Branch library for the WIFI.

The cozy sitting area in the West Branch library

And of course, we shopped at their fantastic used bookstore. I found some goodies. I had Armor Towle's Rules of Civility on ebook but prefer to read 'real' books. Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann has been on my TBR list, and I have heard a lot about Elena Ferrante's My Brillant Friend, and I love Andrea Barrett's writing. The Val McDermid rewrite of Northanger Abbey just looked like fun. And the William Maxwell stories was on the FREE shelf!

I stopped at Aunt Effie's Craft Closet in downtown West Branch, where I found friendly service and terrific selections.

This wall was just the SALES fabrics! There are tables of fat quarters and precuts and walls of bolds of fabric. They offer machine quilting and classes. One group is working on the Bee-autiful quilt from MODA, which I made last year.

I saw the cutest fabric on sale. I snapped a pic and sent it to my Gamemaster son, who also loved it. So the next day I returned and bought fabric to make him a quilt.

 We also stopped at the wine store.

We had rainy days, and after our daily treks into town, we stayed in the cabin reading books. We ate out for lunch and then had soup for dinner.

At the Lumber Jack restaurant, we had the most delicious bread pudding after a pot roast. The decor is quite Up North, down to the vestibule greeter.

 We love the food at the China Inn.

We hit a few of the antique shops. In the Potato Barn Anqitue Store, I found sheet music for One Meat Ball, a song my mother used to sing! It came out when she was thirteen years old.
I did not know that it was sung by Josh White and was from Cafe Society.

The lyrics go like this:

A little man walked up and down

and found an eating place in town.

He looked the menu thru and thru

To see what fifteen cents could do.

One meat ball, one meat ball, 

He could afford by one mean ball.

He told a waiter near at hand

The simple dinner he had planned,

The folks were startled one and all

To hear that waiter loudly all,

One meat ball, one meat ball,

Hey! This here gent wants one met ball!

The little man felt ill at ease

And said, "Some bread, sir, if you please!"

The waiter's voice roared down the hall,

"You get no bread with one meat ball!

One meat ball, one meat ball,

You get no bread with one meat ball!

The little man felt very bad,

But one meat ball was all he had.

Now in his dreams he hears that call,

"You get no bread with one meat ball,

One meat ball, one meat ball,

You get no bread with one meat ball.

It was very quiet at the cabin, but one day deer ran through the yard. Every day the colors grew more intense.

We bought bread at the bakery in town, successfully avoiding the doughnuts and sticky buns and blueberry pie. Outside, we met the local vet.

South of town, coming off the expressway, one can see the water tower which is painted yellow with a Smiley face, the most popular tourist attraction seen on the road Up North.

The land is hilly with fields and farms and pockets of trees and open land.

While driving we listened to a book on tape, Siracusa by Delia Ephron.

When I got home I had two books waiting for me. One was Haruki Murakami's newest novel, Killing Commendatore-- a surprise package from A. A. Knopf! I must have won some giveaway.

 And Dover Publications sent me My First Book of Sewing, which I requested for review.

I read non-review books while away: Marlena by Julie Buntin while away (review to come!), Stephen Fried's book on restauranteer Fred Harvey, Appetite for America, and started Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann.

While away, NetGalley informed me that I was approved for In the Eye of the Hurricane by Nathaniel Philbrick! I have enjoyed all his books. Also on my NetGalley shelf are All the Lives I Never Lived by Anuradha Roy, The Perilous Adventures of the Cowboy King by Jerome Charyn, Big Bang by David Bowman, and Daughter of Molokai by Alan Brennert. I read Brennert's Honolulu years ago and have Molokai on my Kindle to read before the new book. From Edelweiss I have Learning to See by Elise Hooper.

Also, while away I got the good news that I had won a special Book Club win: A Skype visit with author Wiley Cash to discuss his novel The Last Ballad. My feet were hardly touching the ground for a whole day! WILEY CASH! You can read my reviews on The Last Ballad here, and A Land More Kind Than Home here.

Coming home we drove out of the clouds and into the sunshine! The trees had some color, but mostly we saw green. We stopped for lunch in my husband's hometown, driving by his childhood homes and school.

It was nice to be away for six days, but even nicer to be home again! I have some sewing to do!