Glen Arbor Sun

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June 29, 2000

Local Celebrity Profile: Phil Deering of Empire

By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor

To simply describe Phil Deering as a life-long local grocer and civic leader in Empire seems too matter-of-fact, too understated.. But that's just the way this humble man would have it. Phil was born in 1947 and attended the old Empire school. His grandfather Mark Deering, Sr. had a farm and grocery/meat market in Empire before WWII. "Way back in the 30's there were 3 meat stores and 2 general stores in Empire when the lumber companies were here," Phil tells. "My uncle Warren had a grocery at the foot of Benzonia Trail" (Co. Rd. 677). Phil's father Mark Jr. and uncle Warren built the current grocery and the bar (now the Friendly Tavern, owned by Kathleen Weisen and son Mike) when the two men returned from the war. "Mark and Warren used to sail over to the Manitou Islands to butcher the cattle for the farmers over there and then sail the meat back for their meat market," Phil reports. "Imagine trying to unload beef quarters from a rocking boat onto a wet dock!" Mark, Warren and Tom Deering peddled beef to the resorts around the lake, and Phil remembers that when he was a kid Mark furnished the groceries to the Coast Guard guys who lived on the Crib. (The light and foghorn atop the two-story house in the middle of the Manitou passage between Pyramid Point and North Manitou Island.) "Some of those families lived in Empire," recalls Phil. "There were 6 guys out there at a time, three weeks on and one week off. We drove the grocery van to the dock at Glen Haven and loaded them onto a boat."

Besides helping at the grocery, Phil grew up raising cattle, hogs, chickens, geese, and horses just north of town on the family farm up Lacore St. He remembers baling hay every summer and tending to the family's orchards in Empire and on Stormer Road. "There were at least as many Mexican migrant workers around here then as there were locals," Phil remembers. "They lived in the migrant camps, picked the cherries, had their own dances and celebrations. Our population would explode every July. Business was good." But when the cherry shaker was invented in SE Michigan in the late sixties, the need for cherry pickers disappeared, and one of a series of many transitions for the little grocery in Empire occurred. "The local economy changed and it hurt business," Phil recalls. "But there were 50-60 families on the air base then, probably 150-200 people. When the base closed in the mid-seventies, there was another blow to the local economy and another transition for Empire." When the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore was established, more people were removed from the area as property and homes were taken over. But the growth since then has made up for those losses to the local economy. "We're back to our previous numbers," Phil says. "All the vacant lots along the lakes aren't vacant anymore!"

A knack for quiet resilience and survival are pure Phil Deering characteristics. After attending Northwest Michigan College in Traverse City, Phil was drafted in 1967 and spent two years in Viet Nam with the Army's First Division stationed north of Saigon. Says Phil, "I was a grunt in the jungle. I survived a year of that." Of the 120 men sent to Nam in Phil's company, only 20 returned together. The rest were killed or sent home wounded. "I ended up with 3 silver stars, 2 bronze stars, 2 purple hearts, and one Soldier's Medal (for non-combat bravery)," Phil humbly told me. Not wanting to pick at old scabs, I nevertheless asked him what the awards were for. "The soldier's medal was when a tank hit a mine, rolled over, and burst into flames. I just crawled in and pulled out two guys," Phil said. "The silver stars were for pulling wounded guys out of fire fights, for taking over bunkers, for leading patrols" he continued. "The bronze stars are basically for surviving fights, just for surviving." Phil recalled the worst battle was at Black Virgin Mountain in late '67 or early '68. "Too many guys died trying to climb a mountain. We had to leave our dead and go back the next day to get 'em." Phil didn't stop saving people when he returned from Viet Nam. He is currently an EMT and mans the ambulance for many calls out of Empire.

When he came home to Empire in '68 Phil worked the grocery store so his father could run the cannery out at Triple-D orchards on Stormer Road. There the family canned Glen Lake apple juice and packed pie-ready tart cherries, black sweet cherries, apricots, asparagus and plums. Phil married his wife Gerrie in 1970. They have a son Ryan, 26, who works for the Village of Empire, and a daughter Kim, 27, who works for IRI in Chicago as an information specialist.

While managing a grocery store and raising a family, Phil Deering has been a busy servant of the community. He was fire chief for 20 years, a member of the village council for 10 years, a county commissioner for 8 years, and a member of the township board for the past 8 years.

Phil almost lost his fingers ten years ago. There had been a big July storm and a 3 day power outage. When electricity was restored the crew was cleaning up the store from 3 days of selling groceries in the dark when Phil picked up a spinning fan that had fallen off its hinges. His hands went through the grate, and the blades cut the fingers and tendons on both hands, almost cutting them off. But they were sewed back on, and Gerrie ran the place as well as tending to Phil's bandages and driving him to daily therapy in Traverse City for 30 days. Still the survivor, Phil is lucky to have no loss of function and hardly any scars on his hands from the whole ordeal.

Phil's future is pretty clear, especially if you look at the genetic pattern he has inherited with the grocery store. His grandfather Mark Sr. came to work there from 9 am to 5 pm for 6 days a week until his 100th birthday. "He came to work on his 100th birthday," Phil chuckles, "and I said to him, 'Grandpa, you're 100 years old. Isn't it time you took a day off and thought about retiring?' Grandpa answered, 'These young folks are too lazy. I'm doing too much of their work. I think I'll stop now, but you gotta work 'em harder!'" Phil's father Mark Deering Jr. was unloading a pallet and stocking produce on the shelves on the day I interviewed Phil for this article. He is 85 and still works everyday. "He's like the energizer bunny," one employee quipped. "What else would I do?" Mark asked. "Besides, you can't get any work out of these young people. Somebody's got to do it!"

"I get offers for this store all the time," Phil says, "but I have no desire to sell. Empire is still going through transitions, and the big chains are indifferent. The store will only need to grow bigger if Empire grows bigger. If people build on all of the new lots that are for sale (the Empire Hills development has 53 units, and the proposed Nugent development off Fredrickson Road could have 155 units), it would double the size of the local population," he says. "But if they're not permanent families it won't help our year 'round business much. We have to operate on a boom/bust basis. Boom in the summer, look for a job in the winter." Phil continues, "Empire is turning into a retirement community. The town needs a boost, it has been sliding lately. The closing of the hardware store is the latest setback for our downtown business. Farming isn't as viable anymore, so building is inevitable. Most of the development," predicts Phil Deering, "will happen in bits and pieces." You get the idea as Phil postulates the possible fates of Empire that he enjoys the prospect of new transitions, but that he doesn't have any particular political axe to grind. He just wants to help make things work.

Mary Kate Chalup, one of the employees at Deering's Market, says "Phil is one of the nicest people in Empire. He's always there for people, day or night. He is a helper of families and kids. He's family oriented and flexible as an employer, and he's a kind of father-figure for this town. People bring their problems to him, and he helps them. Phil is a good mediator. As a sort of town social worker, Phil sees that people's clothes and food needs get met."

Phil prefers to deflect attention and praise, it embarrasses him. He's just living his life, taking care of business, paying attention to his neighbors and to his community, his hometown. Many people want to live up here because of the natural beauty and what is abstractly called "the quality of life." In Empire, the quality is in people like Phil Deering, who selflessly give us a way to measure virtue, and who show us that small towns still have heroes.

Posted by editor at 11:08 PM | Comments (0)

Cabin Fever Band is on deck, swinging!

By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor

The chord progression falls ominously as the bass, mandolin, guitar, and banjo warn of danger. But the players are smirking. Three kids watch and wait in front of the band as one of them blows bubbles. Suddenly, five grizzled performers and the kids start high-stepping in place like a football squad running a drill through old tires. “He’s creepy crawly creepy crawly creepcreep crawlycrawly creepcreep crawly crawly.......” It’s just another Friday night on the deck at Boone Dock’s, and the local legendary Cabin Fever Band is teaching the kids how to avoid “Boris, the Spider.” The question is, are the hairy legs of the imaginary spider scarier than the band’s?

There is an overwhelming sense of fun that infects everyone present as Cabin Fever moves into “Whiskey Before Breakfast.” Comprised of Jim Curtis on bass and vocals, Tom Keen on guitar and vocals, Jack Sharry on mandolin and fiddle, Tom Fordyce on vocals and harp, and Paul Kirchner on banjo (this night Mark McManus is filling in for Paul), the Cabin Fever Band plays what Keen calls “optimistic music”, an eclectic mix of country swing, bluegrass, rock & roll, pop, and maritime folk. It’s the perfect mix for the crowd of locals and tourists who gather to watch the light fade on a balmy June evening. The band has evolved its repertoire and its precision over the last 15 years, and their menu of tunes is as varied and interesting as the characters who play it. Here’s a profile of the band’s members:

- Smokin’ Jack Sharry, fiddle and mandolin, moved to Empire in 1990 after a 30-year career at GM. Jack was an accomplished high school musician, playing trumpet and euphonium in the band and violin in the orchestra. He played in the Marine Corps band before he was sent to Korea where he received two purple hearts. Then, amazingly, Jack played almost no music for the 30 years of his GM career. “My kids never heard me play much,” Jack admits, “they didn’t really think of me as a musician. I was just the guy bringin’ home the bacon.” But music was always a big part of Jack’s soul. His father played guitar and entertained, and that love re-hatched when Jack retired and moved here. Jack recalls, “I heard the two Toms and Billy Judd playing at the Village Inn in Empire in ‘88 or ‘89, introduced myself, and we’ve been making music ever since.” Jack also played in the pit band for the musical “Big River” at Glen Lake High School a couple of years ago, and his playing is always crisp, precise, and exacting. Jack’s mandolin is pointed and punctuating on a Jimmy Buffet Caribbean calypso tune, for example, while his fiddle on the swing tune “A Long Way From St. Louie” is chuckling, commenting on the action, sort of snickering from the doorway before the expert fall and a sweet closure. He captures the lively mood of the dance hall or the broken-hearted syrup of love with equal aplomb. Jack can go from mountain front porch blue grass foot-stompin’ knee-slappin’ licks to French cafe tunes that are as sweet as a grandma’s kiss. Jack Sharry is a local virtuoso and the musical conscience of the Cabin Fever Band.

- Paul Kirchner, banjo, is originally from Ludington. He has been a tool and die designer, a building trades and industrial arts teacher, and most recently Director of Technology for the Grand Rapids Public Schools. Paul will be Tech Director for the Mesick Schools starting this fall. Paul was an MP in Korea in the demilitarized zone from '66-'68, after which he went to Ferris State and got married. A guitar player since he was 10, Paul got his first banjo as a gift from his wife Jean in 1970. Paul has honed his incredible pyrotechnical skill in several bands, including Blue Grass Reunion (with fellow banjo picker Dick Anthony of Third Coast), The Wildwood Band, The Pine River Valley Boys, and from '84 to '94 Paul played with the renowned Blue Grass Extension Service around Lansing, MI. He has performed frequently with Mack Wiseman, the nationally known guitar player and singer, and at festivals all over the midwest and Canada. As with all of the guys in the Cabin Fever Band, music runs in Paul's family. His grandfather was a Swede from Karlskroner who toured all over Europe playing concertina to packed houses. Then he immigrated to Ludington and worked in the sawmills for 8 years to save up enough money for passage for his wife and 4 kids. Because his name sounded Jewish and he was fleeing the persecution he experienced in Europe, Paul's grandfather changed his name from Rosenblad to Swanson when he reached Ellis Island. Then Paul's father took the name Kirchner from his stepfather. Paul picks dazzling, inspired licks on that banjo, meteoric riffs that electrify the crowd and energize the band. Just hang on as Paul leads the band mad-dashing through the theme from Bonny & Clyde, "Foggy Mt. Breakdown," or the classic "Rocky Top." With his amazing technical mastery Paul Kirchner makes it look easy.

- Tom Keen’s grandparents came up here on their honeymoon from Chicago and immediately bought a lot from DH Day. “We’ve always had a foothold on Glen Lake,” Tom assures. His father played ragtime piano, his grandmother taught music, and Tom started playing a $12 guitar at the age of 12. Tom quips “My folks wanted to make sure I was serious.” Now Tom makes his own guitars. “My wife got me a Martin guitar kit one Christmas. Last winter I made a dobro, the Resophonic.” Tom plays both at every Cabin Fever performance, and they are beautiful looking and sweet sounding instruments. His wheatstraw beard always framing a smile, “Keener” is the bread’n butter of the band, layin’ down the chords, providing vocal harmonies, anchoring each tune and providing witty repartee between numbers. He is like everybody's favorite uncle or brother-in-law. When one of the players tells me how pleased they are to get to live here year around, Tom Keen chuckles “We can’t afford to leave!”

- Jim Curtis is an audio engineer originally from Grand Rapids who’s been around here for 20 years. In his boyhood a guitar player, Jim bought a Beatles book in high school and started a rock band in the 60’s. “In the late 80’s I heard the Toms, Jack, and Bill Judd play at the Cedar Tavern,” Jim remembers. “A short time later they had a gig at Le Bear and their bass player quit. So I strapped on a bass guitar with an electric cord for a strap, winged it, and I’ve been playin’ with ‘em ever since!” Then Jim smiles and adds, “We’re a lot better now.” Jim’s bass is energizing, exhorting the band along. The perfect roll-player bassguy, Jim deftly pushes the beat, encouraging each tune, as steady as a father’s shaving hand. His vocals are solid, practiced narratives, clean and conversational. He’s the one who hauls around the gear and turns the knobs to create that perfect blend of instruments and voices in every Cabin Fever song.

- Tom Fordyce, vocals, harmonica, and percussion, has been a local since 1976. He moved a lot with his military family until his father retired to Colorado after 30 years in uniform. When Tom came to help build his Dad a house near here he fell in love with the place and “just stayed.” Tom’s family was also musical. “Dad used to sing along with old Hank Williams country songs on the radio in our ‘55 Pontiac when we took road trips to grandma’s house in Illinois,” Tom reminisces. “I was always lying in the back window harmonizing.” Always a singer, Fordyce was in the high school choir and glee club, and he sang in a rock band in Colorado called “Chaos.” “Then I went to college in Boulder and sang in a band called ‘Chocolate Hair’.” But it was wartime, and Tom was drafted. He joined the Air Force as a medic and flew air rescues in Viet Nam in 1972. “It was nearing the end of the war,” Tom recalls. “We were just tryin’ to get those guys out of there.”

Looking back, Tom Fordyce recounts the history of this band of locals. “Jack Lane was playing guitar at Art’s one night in ‘81 or ‘82, so I sat in with him and sang, and then Keener showed up with his guitar. We met Billy Judd in ‘82. He was a helluva (banjo) picker, knew all the songs. Jack Sharry and Jim Curtis joined us in the late 80’s, so we’ve been together more or less for 18 years. I guess we must know 200-300 songs by now!” Fordyce is the personality of this band, his voice cutting yet smooth, resonant, certain, and precise, a singing voice as country as mailboxes and hubcaps nailed to the barn and three-legged dogs.

When I asked the band about their “best” gig, the response was unanimous. “A friend got married on Grand Island in Munising Bay,” Fordyce tells. “They hauled a Plymouth Volare and a Chevy Van and 200 people to the island on a 20’ pontoon boat. We put 600 miles on the van in that one weekend hauling the generator and all the equipment to and from the boat. That was at Rainbow Cove, there was no one there but us, and we really had more fun than humans should!”

Now the 4-year-old boy who was blowing bubbles and is wearing a t-shirt with a picture of his dog on the front gives Tom Fordyce a crayon drawing he just made during “Sittin’ on top of the world.” Talkative and ebullient, Tom Fordyce works the crowd, passing out more bubbles and taking requests. This set spins through songs by Michael Martin Murphy (“Geronimo’s Cadillac”), The Grateful Dead, John Prine. Then they shift into a poignant Civil War tune, “Soldiers Joy,” and romp through a round of polkas, including the politically correct “She’s Too Smart For Me.” Duke Ellington’s “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” eases the crowd back down as the pink and orange sky colors up with the sunset. The Cabin Fever Band’s versatility and artistry are astonishing and polished from years of playing together and entertaining just this kind of local crowd. It’s too easy for those of us who have been listening to these guys play over the years to take their excellence for granted, and that’s a mistake. They rock into their own choreographed version of “Great Balls of Fire,” grin through “I’m My Own Grandpa,” and then swing on Bill Monroe’s fiddle tune “Uncle Penn,” (“You can hear it talk, you can hear it sing!”). Bringing it back home to the Great Lakes, they finish with Bill Staines' “Loggin’ Song”: “Way, hey, another brand new day --- on the wild and windy shores of Supeer-I-Aaye!”

The tip jar is full on a good night. They may look like a pack of grizzled old field hands (on this night they sport 4 beards and a broom mustache), but the girls sure love ‘em.. Every Friday night the Cabin Fever Band creates a scene filled with youthful energy and earthy exuberance that delights this crowd of deck diners and hand clappers at Boone Dock’s. They are available for private parties, weddings, bar mitzvahs. Just call Tom Fordyce, or his brother Tom Keen. They’re in the phone book, just local guys with day jobs who happen to be extremely gifted musicians and who put on a great show consistently right here in our town. Make sure to check ‘em out this summer, and throw a few bills in the tip jar! Let's celebrate our musicians!!

Posted by editor at 10:10 PM | Comments (0)

Don Vavra celebrates 80

By Suzanne Wilson
Sun contributor

Proof that a cheerful man creates his own sunshine was evident last Sunday. Don Vavra celebrated his 80th birthday, and in spite of grey skies and a cold wind off the bay, over one hundred of his friends came to share in the grand party.

Don’s birthday party gave us all the gift of a pleasant time to visit with friends and neighbors before the start of a busy summer. Cars lined the street reminiscent of the days of Fourth of July fireworks, and Glen Arbor felt like a good, friendly place to find yourself that day.

It is hard to think that there might be anyone in Glen Arbor who doesn’t know Don. He keeps in shape as a seemingly tireless walker, often with his little dachshund, Frankie(furter). His walk is not of the speedwalking type though, he always takes time to stop and chat and to spread some goodwill to everyone he meets.

A gathering like this is a reminder of what an interesting little town Glen Arbor is. The conversations I was in ranged from archeology in New Mexico to a newly acquired apartment in Paris, thoughts from a person about to leave for a Peace Corps stint in South Africa, and an in-depth discussion of family dynamics. And of course there were many gifts that related to Don’s trip to Australia in the year preceding this 80th birthday. Many happy returns, Don! If you give another party we will all come.

Posted by editor at 09:12 PM | Comments (0)

A Spectacular Week (and month!) for The Arts in Glen Arbor

by Andrea Stupka
Sun contributor

June 26-30, 9am to 1pm

The Glen Arbor Art Association is pleased to host a photography workshop lead by Steve Boyce and Hallie Levine of Ann Arbor. Ms. Levine is currently directing a high school photography project in Livingston county, and Mr. Boyce is a freelance photographer with a focus in photo journalism. His publication credits include the New York Times, Newsweek, Washington Post and The Progressive. Their workshop will concentrate on the joy of making beautiful images with color photography, using 35mm film. Students may concentrate on either landscape or portraiture and documentary. For more information call (231) 334-6112

Don't miss a special evening Friday, the 30th !

Many people know Traverse City architect Bob Holdeman for his important civic buildings and beautiful homes, but many may not know of his gift of painting. Holdeman will be joined by his two sons, artists John and Scott, in a 3-man "Holde-men" exhibit which will kick off the Lake Street Studio’s summer season. Opening reception at 6:00 PM, Friday June 30th on Lake Street in Glen Arbor, on display until July 6th. For more information call (231) 334-6112.

Also, come out early to hear as novelist and Interlochen teacher Jack Driscoll reads from his much-anticipated new book Stardog - a knock-out work of fiction which follows his critically-acclaimed Lucky Man, Lucky Woman. Reading begins at 5:30 next door at The Cottage Book Shop, the old log cabin on Lake Street. The author will be signing copies of his book afterwards. For more information call (231) 334-4223.

Upcoming exhibit at Center Gallery, opening July 7th:

The Center Gallery is pleased to announce an exhibit of new work by Maryland-based painter Peggy Hawley, whose vibrant and elegant still life and landscape work is exhibited across the country. On show until July 13th; opening reception 6:00 pm, July 7th at Center Gallery in the Lake Street Studios, Glen Arbor. For more information call (231) 334-6112.

Coming soon ! Back by popular demand! The Manitou Music Festival concert series opens with the stupendous Concert at the Dunes: Legend of the Sleeping Bear, 7:30 pm, July 16th at the National Park Dune Climb, Glen Haven. Admission is free and open to the public. Don't miss this true celebration of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, and the fine arts it has inspired.

Posted by editor at 08:14 PM | Comments (0)

Irish produced documentary is screened at The Bay Theater

By Holly Spaulding
Sun staff writer

One characteristic of living up north, as we say in these parts, is that invariably a compromise must be made in order to be here. We give up many things, and usually it is worth it. Certainly the diversity and prevalence of local culture is impressive. But one thing that is often lacking is a connection to the unusual, offbeat, often more worldly programs and events that make bigger cities so attractive. Of course there are exceptions to this rule.

On Sunday June 11th, many county residents had the opportunity to be present for the U.S. premier of a short film by up-and-coming Irish documentarian Muireann de Barra (26). I met de Barra in Dublin in 1998 while studying there, and we soon discovered that we had many interests in common, including a concern for the Zapatistas of Chiapas. Though I have returned to Michigan for now, we have maintained contact, and last summer I accompanied her on a trip to Mexico which incorporated some filming for what would become her latest project, a documentary entitled “Muralistas.”

Only days after completing the editing for the film, de Barra screened it at the first ever Irish-Latin American Film Festival in her home city of Dublin. Two weeks later she was on a spontaneous flight to the United States- her first ever- and I was to be her hostess in Northern Michigan. When I learned of her plans I mentioned them to several people, and was encouraged to see that it would be possible to organize a screening of ”Muralistas” in this area. With the cooperation of Bob Bahle of the Bay Theater in Suttons Bay, an event was scheduled with just a week to do the promotion.

Many posters, postcards, a Record Eagle article, and an interview with Bob Allen of Interlochen Public Radio later, de Barraís film was screened before two large and enthusiastic audiences in Suttons Bay. It was apparent that many of those who were there that day were impressed with the film itself as well as with the opportunity to see something of this sort in Leelanau County. Many had traveled long distances to spend their afternoon in the theater, and in some cases, to speak with the director after the show. ”Muralistas” deals with two strands in a story which is not unfamiliar to anyone who knows the history of the Americas as it relates to the affects of colonialism on indigenous people. In this case de Barra looks at the Mayan Indians in the southeastern state of Chiapas, Mexico, and in particular she focuses on the Zapatistas, members of an armed revolutionary organization that since their high profile uprising in 1994, have been calling for an end to Mexican human rights abuses against them, as well as the on-going theft and abuse of their land and resources by the government and multi-national corporations.

The other strand of the film focuses on women from a disadvantaged community in Dublin, Ireland. All recovering drug users, these women are participants in a program called SAOL (an Irish word meaning “life”) which facilitates the process of recovery by helping the women to understand their addiction, and by offering a skills-building curriculum in order to prepare them for an independent life after drugs.

The idea for the film was born when de Barra was approached by SAOL to make a simple home video of the group while they reproduced a large mural entitled “Vida Y Suenosí” (Life and Dreams), which was originally painted by members of several Zapatista communities in Chiapas as part of what was to be the inauguration of a new autonomous municipality, called Taniperla. Because this mural symbolized a way of life that the Mexican government views as a threat in that it promotes non-capitalistic values, self-determination, and ties to the traditional Mayan culture, the mural was forcefully destroyed during a military incursion and subsequent occupation of the community shortly after the painting was completed.

Because de Barra is trained in professional quality video production, she decided that with SAOLís permission, she would write a grant proposal for funding that would allow her to do a quality documentary of the solidarity effort that they were participating in. Soon after that, filming began. As the SAOL women worked on their mural, de Barra began making plans to go back to Chiapas, where she had worked on a previous production for Irish National television. Her hope was to capture some of the images that are so beautifully and poignantly depicted in “Vida Y Suenosí”. And this she did, including among those images others which show the Zapatista women as they push back the army with only their hands for defense and their babies still tied to their backs. She also incorporated archival footage of military tanks as they rolled into Taniperla, her own interviews with individuals who were part of the first mural, and a counselor that specializes in trauma cases, for that has become more prevalent over the course of this on-going, low intensity war.

The end product is a 26 minute piece which shows the SAOL women as enthusiastic supporters of the Zapatista’s demands for justice and equality for all. It also shows how these Irish women, who themselves face many of the same difficulties: barriers to education, abuse within or outside of the home, poverty, and a lack of voice in the matters that concern them, put their own struggles into perspective vis a vis the suffering of others. Though they are still in situations that might in many cases be responsible for their involvement in drugs, the SAOL women speak in the documentary of “standing tall and dreaming big”, of how much they enjoyed painting the mural, and of what an accomplishment it was to finish this project so that de Barra could take photographs of the mural to Mexico to show their “sisters” there.

Following the second screening of her film at the Bay Theater, Muireann de Barra also answered questions from the audience and engaged in a discussion of the issues that she took into account during the making of “Muralistas”, as well as those she faces as she attempts to find a way to distribute her first independent production. With events such as this one generating such support, there is hope that this sort of programming will continue to find interest in the area.

“Muralistas” will also be shown on TV-2, Community Access Television, on a
date TBA.

Posted by editor at 07:17 PM | Comments (0)

Canoeing the Crystal River in the 20’s and 30’s

By William H. Peppler
Sun contributor

Seventy-five years ago Leelanau County was a very different place than it is today. Logging left the hills bare of trees. Electricity, running water, and the telephone were luxuries. Water levels in the lakes and rivers fluctuated with the weather. Water levels in Glen Lake and the Crystal River were especially affected then because there was no dam to control the water flow.

Back then, a canoe trip cown the Crystal was an all day trip, an annual trip that our family looked forward to. We rented canoes from Krull’s Marina on Glen Lake, located on the south end of Lake Street. The marina is still in operation and is now known as Glen Craft Marina.

The trip across the north shore of Glen Lake to the headwaters of Fisher Lake is about two miles. Back then there were only five or six summer homes on the north shore of the lake. Arriving at the mouth of Fisher Lake required the first portage of the day. A sand bar separated the two lakes.

This natural sand bar controlled water flow down the river. It was dug out by hand to increase water flow when necessary to operate the Fisher Sawmill and the Brammer Grist Mill, both of which were downriver. The Fisher mill was located at the current location of the Crystal Harbor Marina at the corner of Fisher Road and Dunn’s Farm Road. The Brammer Grist Mill was located next to the M-22 bridge east of Glen Arbor.

After paddling across the Fisher Lakes, we entered the Crystal River. About a quarter mile later came the second portage, the short portage around the Fisher Sawmill. After this portage, it was under the Fisher Road bridge and on down the river.

The river from the Fisher Mill to Lake Michigan was crisscrossed with endless fallen trees. We spent a good share of the trip moving logs, climbing over logs, portaging around log jambs, and pushing the canoes. The trip was more physically demanding then than it is today. Now, one needs only to paddle and to keep in the middle of the river.

Culverts were utilized then to allow water to flow under Crystal River Road. They were in the same locations they are today. Usually we could canoe through the tubes, but if the water was low we would need to portage across the road.

After passing the flats along Crystal River Road, we would reach the Brammer Grist Mill. This mill was of the turbine type. Water poured through it from the top of a spillway that ran under the bridge on M-22. There was a coffer dam to control the water at this point. You can see some of the remains of this dam today.

The trip around the Glen Arbor loop of the river varied from year to year. There were years that the river was almost dry for the whole loop. You could literally walk across the river bed and not get your shoes wet. When these conditions were present, we would portage to a point downstream of the Brammer mill and continue on to Lake Michigan.

After arriving at Lake Michigan, usually by mid-afternoon, the decision to canoe to Glen Arbor was made. If the wind was favorable and the waves were friendly we would canoe. If the waves were threatening, we would walk back to the marina, then drive back to retrieve the canoes. This annual trip was always a highlight of our vacation and is still bright in my memory.

Posted by editor at 06:19 PM | Comments (0)

Decorating “Simple Cottage Style”

By Martha Loberg
Interior designer and owner of Martha’s Closet

Cottage style has enticed us with its intimacy, inciting us to open our hearts at home. It’s not just a way of decorating but a way of life. Think of soft, warm fabrics that envelop you on even the dreariest of lake days. Life is simpler here, and so is cottage style. The following are some tips to conjure up cottage decorating for the not hard of heart.

* It’s easy to coordinate fabrics and paint by staying within a palette. Five colors that mix naturally are buttercream yellow, sage green, lavender, eggshell blue, and a soft coral. These colors unite and harmonize in patterns on upholstery, pillows, and curtains to create a relaxed atmosphere.

* Many of our homes have massive windows with beautiful views. But how to keep privacy and let light in is the challenge. Here’s a simple solution: a flat panel made of organdy edged with a ticking stripe and hung inside the window frame using a tension rod. Add a tailored look by mitering the corners. Wooden shutters fold over at night to darken the room.

* Bring nature indoors. Fresh wildflowers brighten every room with color and fragrance. Group pillar candles on a dessert pedestal, then surround with a variety of stones form the beach.

* Make comfort come first. Nothing in your home should be too precious to be touched. Slipcovered furniture, utilitarian antiques, flea-market finds, and easy care floors make life easier on yourself and your house guests.

* A guest bedroom’s look can change every few days when you rely on duvet covers, sheets, and pillowcases to create an interesting mix of color and pattern. Simple furnishings against a neutral backdrop, calico cottons, florals, gingham checks, madras plaids, and stripes work together to set a casual mood.

* Oversized pillows slipcovered with vintage fabrics work as a cozy seat for extra guests. When covering seats select a chair with gracious size and shape in slipcovers or upholstery. Use fabrics with a nostalgic look with pleats and curves to resemble a vintage dress. Chenille, which resembles terry cloth, fares well in a moist environment. Use it as an absorbent and comfortable covering for seat cushions - add your monogram for a personal touch.

* For storage, use coordinating wicker baskets and label what’s in them with tags from an office supply store. Use watercolors to give tags a soft wash of color for a paint-box effect. A wooden tool box carrier is ideal to store Ball jars of cooking and serving utensils. A fresh coat of paint makes it practical and pretty.

* Create unity by using color to link patterns and forms. Painting mix & match side chairs a favorite color makes them look as though they have always belonged together. A fresh wash of color updates an old toy chest or a hand-me-down dresser.

* Surround yourself with collections of things you find useful and delightful and leave the rest behind. Take care to save or replace elements that give a house its architectural identity - try to keep original flooring, fixtures, and woodwork.

Your decor should be elegant but casual to be enjoyed by friends and family. Keep it simple and trust your instincts in choosing color and furnishings. Enjoy your cottage by making it relaxed, inviting, musical, memorable, playful, honest, and peaceful.

Posted by editor at 05:32 PM | Comments (0)

June 15, 2000

The Bear Is Not Sleeping, or Ursus Americanus is Near

By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor

Bear sightings have increased lately in the Empire-Glen Arbor area. During the winter of ‘98 Bonnie Quick grazed a bear with her mini-van as she was headed north one night on Co. Rd. 677 near the Benzie-Leelanau county line, just south of the Empire Airport. Bristles of bear fur were stuck in the front corner of the van where she scraped the startled animal. Now National Park biologists report that tracks indicate a bear is (or at least in April was) on South Manitou Island. Black bears are great swimmers, as Michigan’s Official State Story, The Legend of the Sleeping Bear, suggests. Park experts assume the South Manitou bear, so far not sighted, must have swum over from the mainland. And they assume the bear will, or already has, swum back. Rangers are taking precautions on the island in case the bear stays out there and gets interested in the smells of the campfires soon to be warming cans of Dinty Moore in the island’s three campgrounds. Generally black bears don’t like the smell of humans and avoid contact with them. When they encounter humans, black bears usually run away. But they like to burrow their noses into trashbags, and the dumps near villages in the Upper Peninsula are reliable places for evening bear watching. The vast quadrants of forest in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore could provide ample range for a bear or two, but occassional brushes with humans along the trails is inevitable if bears stick around.

Here are the bear facts on some recent local sightings:

--Last Saturday, May 27, Ray Nargis of rural Empire Township was in the woods between Glen Lake and M-72. “When I went down the trail there was no scat there,” Ray reports, “but when I came back up a couple of hours later I noticed a large deposit of black, gummy, non-dog-like appearing doodoo caacaa excrement filled with green stuff. When I examined it with a stick I ascertained that it was still warm, and I thought ‘Feet, don’t fail me now!’ “ And this isn’t the only evidence of proximate bears lately. There have been some direct bear sightings as well.

--On Saturday, May 6, Sarah Colligan of Long Lake was coming down the east side of Alligator Hill on the trail that drops into Glen Arbor near M-22. “I rounded a corner and heard some stirring,” Sarah says. “It was too loud for a deer, and I looked up to see a 2 or 3 year old healthy gorgeous shiny black bear. The trees were blossoming and the leaves were still just the size of squirrel’s ears, so I could see through the trees clearly. The bear was loping along about 15 meters away from me! I stopped and let it keep going,” Colligan continues, “then I turned around and went back up the trail in case other bears were around so as not to spook it/them nor further spook myself! It was a good-sized but not huge bear, and it was a beautiful thing. It’s nice to know they’re still around here.”

--On the last day of April, a Sunday, Harriet Jones, a counselor at Glen Lake Elementary School, was driving along County Road 616 near the school when she saw something large and black and furry cross the road headed for the school property. Curious, Harriet drove up into the faculty parking lot that parallels the road up behind the pine-tree-covered slope. “There was this bear stopped at the fence that surrounds the elementary school playground, looking in at the bright plastic climbing stuff,” she explains with astonishment. “When the bear couldn’t go through the fence it looked and saw my car, and then it turned around and ran back down the slope through the pine trees and across the road and headed back to the north.”

Maybe, as these three pieces of evidence all occurred on a Saturday or a Sunday, there is a bear who comes here on weekends in a huge S.U.V. just like the auto execs from Detroit or the investors from the Chicago Board of Trade. Maybe it is the South Manitou bear who gets lonely and swims over for the weekend social life around Glen Arbor. Or maybe it is the spirit of Bart, the 1580 lb. movie star grizzly bear who just passed away, looking for another beautiful incarnation as a black bear. Out west the park rangers advise hikers to wear little bells so bears can hear them coming, and to carry cans of pepper spray in case they accidentally startle a grizzly bear. Hikers are also taught to identify bear scat so they know when they are on the fairways of the bears. Black bear (ursus americanus) scat is usually full of berries and vegetable matter, and since they don’t pose much of a threat to humans unless startled with their cubs, making noise and paying attention are the best preventions. Grizzly bears (ursus horribilis) can be dangerous to humans. We don’t have them around here, but apparently their scat is full of little bells and smells like pepper.

Posted by editor at 11:01 PM | Comments (0)

Tower climbers aim phone circuit at South Manitou

by Norm Wheeler
Sun editor

Saturday, June 2 - As the sprinkling of weekend visitors turned off the car alarms on their SUV's and settled down for lunch in the eateries of Glen Arbor around noon, two men strung ropes so that one of them could ascend the tower behind the Glen Arbor fire station. Andy Barth and Ralph LIddle of Radio North in Traverse City were taking advantage of the windless, cool, sunny Saturday afternoon to aim a microwave dish at South Manitou Island. Simultaneously, colleagues were speeding via charter boat from Leland toward the ranger station tower on the island to aim a similar white dish at Glen Arbor. An initiative of the Park Service, the goal was to establish a line-of-sight link so that a phone circuit can replace short wave radio as the means of communication between the mainland and the rangers and campers on South Manitou. The boat to the island would take forty minutes to get there, so Andy and Ralph had a good half hour to string their ropes and get ready to establish, via trial and error, the line-of-sight connection across the watery 8-9 mile stretch of Sleeping Bear Bay and the Manitou Passage. As Ralph stepped into his waist/torso harness and checked his buckles and carabeeners, Andy explained that Ralph would climb all the way to the top of the tower hooked by two latches to the steel safety cable threaded through eye bolts between the footpegs up the east side of the tower. Once at the top, Ralph would rig a winch line, a safety line, and a descent line. Equiped with walkie-talkies, the men would communicate between the top and bottom so that Andy could send up needed tools and tie off successfully threaded lines, and so that Ralph could verify the safety of the ropes before rappalling half-way down the tower to the white microwave dish on the west side, looking out over Art's Tavern toward South Manitou. Ralph climbed the tower in less than fifteen minutes, with only two short breaks, despite being loaded down with gear for the operation. "Ralph's one of the strongest, most safety-conscious climbers I've ever worked with," said Andy. As Ralph hunkered at the top and began threading rope through the pulley, Andy put on a hardhat and admonished me to pay attention. "The danger area for any falling objects is a radius around the foot of the tower equal to its height," he advised. We stayed outside the fenced area at the base of the tower while Ralph worked with ropes at the top, for as Andy quipped, "I don't wanna be whipped like a red-headed stepchild if those ropes start flippin' around." Soon everything was secured and double-checked for safety, and Ralph let himself down from the top in a slow, careful rappal that nestled him comfortably on the stanchion holding the 24" microwave dish. Over the next couple of hours Ralph and Andy talked by radio with the men situated similarly on the tower at the island until their respective bowls were lined up. Soon, rangers or maybe campers on South Manitou will be able to order food from Riverfront Pizza by telephone. Now, if they could just get Tim Nichols to deliver . . . . .

Posted by editor at 10:03 PM | Comments (0)

June 01, 2000

Low Water Levels

by Jacob Wheeler
Sun staff writer

Summer lovers returning to lakefront cottages in Northern Michigan may drop jaws in disappointment before dropping their feet into water.

That’s because Lake Michigan water levels are the lowest they’ve been since the mid-60’s, when measurements taken by the United States Army Corps of Engineers bottomed out at 576.05 feet in March of 1964.

And the current water level of the Glen Lakes is only as high as it should be come August, two dry months away, according to Ben Bricker who headed the Glen Lakes Dam Committee until a couple months ago.

Bricker turned over the position to Frank Pfeifer to rest his ailing back since the most important task of running the Dam Committee involves placing boards in the dam where the Glen Lakes flow into the Crystal River. The act dictates the amount of outlet water entering the river, and by nature favors the recreational use of the lakes.

“Right now we’re in serious trouble,” said Bricker, who has served on the committee for 10 years. “Normally we start controlling the outflow by the beginning of May, but this year we put in the boards in March and another in mid-April. The snowfall was as disappointing as it could get last winter.”

In mid-May the lakes were measured at only 5/8 of an inch below a court-ordered level — up from 3 1/4 inches below in March — but only after using all four pairs of boards in the dam, and with a traditionally dry July and August yet to come.

“We’ve tried to stockpile water before Mother Nature uses it during the dog days of summer,” said Herb Kramps, President of the Glen Lake Association which oversees the Dam Committee. “A good August day in the 90’s and a strong wind could knock 1/4 of an inch off the lake level.”

Simply put, the Dam Committee has done all it can to keep the lake level at its legal limit. Now boaters and dock owners will have to sit back and let nature take its course.

“There were times when the Glen Lakes were a foot higher than they are now — probably in the 1940’s,” said Bricker, who spends most of his time at the Lake Street Studios as a silversmith. “My message to the public is: we’re all in ‘the same boat.’ You may have to plan on leaving your boat out there with a dingy” instead of tied to the dock.

If the Glen Lakes suffer from a lack of rainwater and winter runoff, the Crystal River will suffer even more. If is the serf which is fed only after the aristocrats have had enough to eat. And come August the river’s water may approach dangerously low levels.

“If we’re really low on the Crystal, we can release some water over the weekend for the canoers,” said Kramps. “But we need steady rainfall.”

Steve Yancho, a resource management specialist at the National Park, speculates that a dry summer could narrow the river’s water channel enough to hurt the natural ecosystem.

“The concern is over recreational human uses of the Glen Lakes and not the biological needs of the river,” said Yancho. “A smaller stream and more (canoers) using the area could disrupt the organisms.”

According to Rob Karner, a biology teacher at The Leelanau School in Glen Arbor who lives next to the Crystal River, less water flow could eventually turn the river eutrophic, and species that thrive on higher oxygen levels would begin to disappear.

“A decreased flow rate will result in a decreased flush rate, causing the river to age,” said Karner. “The ultimate fate of the river might be to dry up.”

The Crystal River could face dire consequences this summer, but the National Park is not fretting over a 35-year low in water levels in the Glen Lakes and Lake Michigan.

While some cite global warming and the tropical storm El Nino as causes of last winter’s mild temperatures and precious little snowfall, water level recordings taken by the United States Army Corps of Engineers show seasonal and five/ten-year cycles of lake levels rising and falling.

“Over hundreds of years of studying the lake, this isn’t a big deal,” said Yancho. “As frustrating as this might seem for people, it’s just a natural cycle.”

According to USACE measurements, Lake Michigan water levels reached an all-time low in March of 1964, began rebounding by the late 60’s and climbed to record heights by the mid-70’s. After falling nearly to the lake’s century-mean depth, the water level set a new record in the summer of 1986 at 581.99 feet.

High water and low water levels are represented in this chart by peaks and valleys, renewing faith in even the casual observer that expanded beaches along the shoreline represent only a cycle and not a drastic change in world climate.

“The soil, the dunes, everything we’ve come to expect was influenced by lake fluctuations,” said Yancho. “You just have to make adjustments.”

There are advantages to Lake Michigan’s low water levels. At locations like Thoreson Road, north of The Homestead, the receding surf has left an expanded beach where only a tiny one existed before. To the National Park’s satisfaction, wider beaches protect against dune erosion.

And there are even Glen Lake residents who welcome the low water level because they think it could spare them from jet skiers and boaters — the primary victims of receding beaches.

Posted by editor at 11:44 PM | Comments (0)

Grocery changes hands

by Jacob Wheeler
Sun staff writer

Its difficult to tell that an era has ended at Glen Arbor’s grocery store on Western Avenue. The naked wood exterior and giant white pine slab used as a counter top for the cash register suggest age and tradition, even though the store’s ownership changed hands over the winter.

After running the grocery for 70 years, notoriously under the care of Gill Warnes and most recently Greg and Deb Warnes, the family sold it to Matt Davis and Bob Ewing, business partners and good friends who also hold Boone Docks restaurant in their stocked deck of cards.

But Davis and Ewing have no interest in expanding their new business or glossing it over with a distinctly modern look.

“Our idea of up north is a rustic return to the Glen Arbor our visitors remember,” said Davis, whose grandparents owned a grocery store in Morris, Mich. We don’t see it as fancy condominiums and $10 million houses. That’s why this had to look like a store that had been here for awhile.”

The general perception is that continuity is a comfort to many locals who have lived in the area for generations. Some will walk by the Davis’ and Ewing’s store this summer and refer to it still as Warnes’ Grocery. And when they walk inside, they’ll find reminders of the family which served them for the better part of a century. The new owners hope to display pictures of the Warnes family on the walls.

“A lot of pride and hard work has gone into this store,” said Davis, who also sells real estate out of his office on the deck of Boone Docks. “Gill always said that ‘he built the store to feed his family.’”

Even after the Warnes family handed the store on, it took pride in serving Glen Arbor. Davis fondly remembers Greg scrubbing the floors at midnight, just a few days before the store was scheduled to open this spring.

As much as the family photos and the former owner still helping out resemble continuity, the giant giant wooden counter top sums up the new owners’ rustic, up north vision.

On a trip to Boyne City to pick up a half-log for the side of the building, Davis and Ewing were distracted by giant slabs of wood sitting on the floor of the sawmill.

“We looked at each other and realized it at the same moment,” said Davis. “Those slabs would make great counter tops.”

To their dismay Davis and Ewing tried to buy the slabs but learned they weren’t for sale. So they decided to go local, contracting Bill Peyton, a regular customer at Boone Docks, to do the logwork and facilitate remodeling the grocery’s exterior, which now resembles that of a log cabin.

Peyton’s company, Log Works, added a porch, remodeled the front of the store and worked on the roof, but the structure is pretty much the same as it was during the Warnes era.

Now both groceries in town have changed owners in the past four years. One, Anderson’s Market, has expanded greatly, and the other has stayed retained continuity.

According to Davis, the Glen Arbor Grocery won’t have any problem co-existing with Anderson’s, as the two enterprises have satisfied Glen Arbors summer tourist boom together for decades.

Posted by editor at 10:46 PM | Comments (0)

Impressions of my new home

By Kristen Counts
Sun contributor

“I could never live here!” These were the words that I adamantly expressed to my boyfriend on my first visit to his new home in Glen Arbor in September, 1998. He was teaching and living at The Leelanau School, a boarding and day school located just north of the town of Glen Arbor on M-22. I could not imagine enduring the cold, harsh winters of the north. In my mind were pictures of me shivering as I trudged my way through many feet of blowing, blustery snow, a gross exaggeration of my imagination. I also was unable to fathom a lifestyle among adolescents. I did not know my boyfriend could sincerely like living in this cold, adolescent-infested place.

Although, we did go for a romp in the dunes and a walk by the lake, while the September wind blew wildly through our hair. That day we found a Petoskey stone on the beach. I knew it was ancient, and I thought it was interesting. I must confess that I did think the area was pretty during the season in which I visited, but to be totally honest, I was newly in love and could see very little else but him.

In the summer previous to my first visit to Glen Arbor, I was living in West Virginia, working at my summer occupational therapy fieldwork placement. I remember on a hot, sweaty Appalachian evening in particular. I was sitting on the bedroom floor with my back resting against the bed, nursing a big bowl of ice cream, phone pressed to my ear. My boyfriend was describing Glen Arbor to me, trying to put it into words. I said that I though it sounded like the frontier portion of Cedar Point (an amusement park). He replied, “Well, kind of.” How difficult for him to put into words a simple place that was to slowly reveal its many quiet virtues and graces to me.

Later on, during late fall and before the snow fell, I was in Toledo, Ohio, working on my last fieldwork placement. My everyday life was very stressful at that placement, and I missed the one I loved so far up north. One ordinary day, an odd-shaped envelope appeared in my mailbox. It was from my boyfriend. I opened it quickly while I sat in my warm, running car at the end of the driveway. Looking inside the envelope, I found a rock. The ancient stone that we had found on the beach was polished and came with a note. The stone felt smooth and cold in my hand. I felt its contours with my long, cold fingers while I admired its intricate patterns. Empathy and love were shown to me by the note enclosed which reminded me of our place in the span of time. Big, hot tears dropped down my cold cheeks. Feeling this polished stone in my hand was meant to bring me peace. And it did.

Now I am living here, in this lovely little town, and I am at peace. As the old saying goes - “Never say never.” In June of 1999, I found myself marrying that Leelanau teacher and moving due north to that adolescent-infested place. Funny how you can eat your words, every single one of them, and have them taste so sweet.

So many sweet things have impressed themselves upon me since I have resided in this little town. Some are the common surprises of so many urbanites who make their way up here - unlocked car doors, dogs off their leashes, faces that smile at you as you walk down the street. I’ve come to depend upon, even find comfort in, the familiar faces that I see when I go to town. We wave, chat and smile at each other. Such a contrast this is to the high-pitched vocal amazement that is expressed when you actually see someone you know in the city. I also enjoy the community at the school, especially the teens who have become a part of my daily life.

One of my favorite first experiences in Glen Arbor was strolling around on the wooden floor of the video store with my boyfriend looking for a movie by candlelight. The electricity had failed due to strong winds, yet we were still warm while savoring the incomparable aroma of wood burning in the stove.

Other experiences that I cherish have included seeing the northern lights and the milky way for the first time. Never had I experienced such an incredibly clear night sky. I had the great fortune to observe celestial bodies with an astronomy group at the observatory. Great teachers I found in the dark night.

Yet another sweet surprise occurred on a day when I had gone into the coffee shop to rest after work. An older gentleman was sitting on the piano bench, chatting with visitors from out of town. I thought that I had seen him before in town. He wears a green hat and drives an old Mercedes. As he pondered what to play next, I asked if he knew any show tunes. He proceeded to play some good ones, and I enjoyed our interaction — a lovely treat when I did not expect it.

Another fond memory that I have is the big, white clumps that took many bright leaves to their final resting place during the long awaited first snow. The hats came out to play that day. Everyone in Glen Arbor seemed to wear hats. Hats atop heads that were home to a picture perfect dream of a winter wonderland. They walk up and down the street, in and out of shops — red hats, yellow hats, woven hats so tight that they made their wearers look like eraser heads. And tassels, and balls, and tails on the hats to boot.

Yet when the hat people are sleeping, when the stores are not welcoming the customers, this is the time I love the most in Glen Arbor — early morning and late night. Stillness permeates. I drive slowly, tenderly through the darkness so as not to wake the sleeping town, feeling like I keep a precious secret. At the point in the road that meets the drive of the school, I look straight into this gentle darkness, making my left turn home with safe passage.

Posted by editor at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)

My blind date: The future looks good

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

This column appeared in The Michigan Daily in April

DETROIT - A month and a half ago I went on a blind date to the park, and though our first moments together were awkward, we gazed into each other's eyes and worked through the
unfamiliar territory.

A close friend told me she would take my breath away, this sparkling young lass who dresses in the latest trends, yet shows an important respect for tradition.

Her name: Comerica Park, the new home of the Detroit Tigers.

My friend was right - this ballpark is spectacular. Her ground-level box seats and her Tiger statues surrounding the park welcome in even non-baseball fans. Her spacious outfield and brick walls behind the bleachers at the power alleys should please the purists, in time.

Most importantly, its absence of upper bleachers invites the eye to peer out at Detroit - a city in dire need of attention.

In straightaway center field, beyond the team's five World Series championship banners, the downtown Detroit Athletic Club monopolizes the eye. Next door, in right-center field, is the Detroit Opera House - another building stuck in the middle of a city that once was great, and could be great again.

This ballpark could bring it all back: Motown, winning baseball and the temptation for suburban Detroiters to claim the city as their home once again - not Grosse Pointe, not Dearborn.

Watch, if the Tigers win a pennant anytime soon, Detroit's population might top one million once again, if only so suburbanites all over Southeast Michigan can equate their mailing address with success.

Personally, I'm a sucker for beautiful ballparks. At the first sight of green grass, I fall in love as easily as a 13-year old boy on summer vacation. So the minute I ventured down into the box seats, and laid eyes on my evening's companion, I was sold.

Only problem is, I still have feelings for my last love, Tiger Stadium.

I grew up with an intimate knowledge of her every quality - good and bad.

The posts holding up her upper deck blocked the view of those sitting behind them - the blue and orange coating Tiger Stadium's seats were gaudy. But I cherished the imperfections because I knew they would reappear every spring.

A ballpark has a way of preserving sacred memories within her baselines, whether they happened 75 years ago or just the other night, in the nightcap of a doubleheader.

And Tiger Stadium held plenty of memories for me. I was fortunate enough to attend the second-to-last game there last September, a blowout victory over Kansas City.

After the final out, I descended from the press box down toward the field for one last look at her brown and green topography. All of a sudden a surge of emotion swept over me, as paralyzing as a 100-mile-per-hour fastball.

It hadn't dawned on me until that moment, but I had wandered down to the handicapped accessible area down the third base line. This was where my father and I sat six years ago with his grandfather - a 94-year old man who loved baseball more than anything in the world , yet who was confined to a wheelchair on that day.

Grandpa Brondyke died a month later on his birthday, with his soul at rest after having said goodbye to baseball. My father - the man who taught me the game - laid him in the coffin in July with a baseball in his right hand.

My great-grandpa will live forever, down the third base line in Tiger Stadium. And last night, I conveyed this to Comerica Park when we first met.

She doesn't hold any sacred memories for me yet. But if she stands for 100 years, she might.

Posted by editor at 08:53 PM | Comments (0)

Roasters expand customers’ coffee sippin’ space

from staff reports

Andy Anderson, Glen Arbor’s piano man, is smiling these days.

His fingers have not succumbed to arthritis; in fact they’re as graceful as ballerinas when he tickles the ivories.

He drives the hottest cars in town, and hasn’t lost his passion for storytelling.

But it’s the new acoustics at the Leelanau Coffee Roasters which have him especially excited about playing show tunes in front of caffeine-guzzling tourists this summer.

The Roasters recently completed a a two-front major addition to their home base on M-22, and though better piano acoustics may not have been the primary goal behind the expansion, Anderson loves what they have done.

“The sound is outstanding now,” he said. “Piano music bounces off the hard walls and ceiling very nicely. I was getting tired of always competing with the coffee grinders when I played here before the addition.”

Anderson is truly a one-man show now that the grinders have been moved back to a different building be

Posted by editor at 07:57 PM | Comments (0)

Dunes Review

by Holly Spaulding
Sun staff writer

Ernest Hemingway and Jim Harrison discovered the blessed compatabilities of living up north, and the writing life. Those of us that do both of these things like to think that we have only to work very hard, breathe the good air and honor what the woods and water offer, and at some stage, we too will write something of virtue.

Sunday May 21, 2000 marked the launch of this year’s issue of the Dunes Review; a diverse literary magazine representing the labors of over 40 writers who are currently based in the northwestern lower peninsula of Michigan. This is a regional publication, and an opportunity for local poets and essayists to see their work in print close to home and in the company of their neighbors and friends.

During the day a two hour workshop was offered at the Leelanau School for contributors to the magazine. Detroit poet Terry Blackhawk, who was also this year’s judge for the three prizes offered by the magazine, lead the group through readings and discussions of poetry. At the presentation in the evening, Nancy Madison Fitzgerald (The Leelanau Prize for Poetry), JoAnna Pepe (The William J. Stafford Memorial Prize) and Corrina Collins (The Dunes Review Youth Prize) read from their winning poems, as did the recipients of Honorable Mention in each of the categories: Jaime Delp, Jennifer Evans, Brendan Straubel and Steve Lawless. The event concluded with Ms. Blackhawks reading from her own new collection of poems, Body and Field.

The Dunes Review Writing Project was started four years ago by local poet, playwright and writing teacher Anne-Marie Oomen. Her intention was to promote and showcase the writing that she knew from teaching experience, which was going on all over the region. She also began the tradition of using art by local artists on the cover. This year’s cover features Thompsonville resident Jamey Barnard’s painting “Nadia’s Red Skirt”.

The financial support for this volunteer project comes from various sources, including a Michigan Council for the Arts and Cultural Affairs mini-grant, Traverse City Arts Council, Glen Arbor Art Association and many local businesses and individuals who wish to see the literary culture of our area thrive. The Beach Bards of Glen Arbor have continued to provide prize money for the poetry awards offered by the magazine.

This year’s Dunes Review was co-edited by Jenny Robertson and Holly Wren Spaulding, both of whom are poets, and have contributed to the magazine in the past. Their goal was to produce a document that continues to show the dynamic growth of the literary culture in this area, and to encourage writers of all abilities to practice their craft with seriousness and determination. They also added a section entitled “New Writing From Northern Michigan”, which highlights works by established area poets and others that have appeared in the magazine in previous years.

The evidence of good things happening in the writing community is in the magazine, where 80 pages of poetry and several essays on the predetermined theme of “Impermanence” should provide anyone with a good afternoon of reading enjoyment.

You can pick up a copy of the Dunes Review at Lake Street Studios, or The
Cottage Bookshop in Glen Arbor.

Posted by editor at 06:59 PM | Comments (0)