Glen Arbor Sun

November 08, 2007

A Marathon autumn for Ranae Ihme

From staff reports

Chicago — the city of skyscrapers, wind chill, good hotdogs, bad baseball … and heat stroke. That’s right, the Chicago Marathon on Oct. 7 was stopped in the middle of the race this year as temperatures reached the mid-90s and volunteers on the sidelines ran out of water. A police officer from Midland, Mich. even collapsed and died during the debacle.

Local Ranae Ihme of Leelanau Vacation Rentals trained for and ran the Windy City marathon and was absolutely crushed when she was forced by the police to stop after running 20 miles.

“I remember looking at a billboard reading 94 degrees, wondering if the next water station was going to have water, and wanting more than anything the gratification of crossing the finish line.

“But the police just kept yelling that the race was over and that you “must” stop. I tried to keep going and they wouldn’t let me. They told me there were no more emergency response people available. I cried for hours. I had trained so hard.”

Instead of stowing her sneakers and waiting until next year, Ranae ran the Grand Rapids Marathon on Oct. 28, and this time she completed the race and was greeted by jubilant family at the finish line.

Posted by editor at 03:51 PM | Comments (0)

August 23, 2007

Mike Vanderberg: Free Thinker, Anarchist, Village Anchor

By F. Josephine Arrowood
Sun contributor

Since the sudden death of Mike Vanderberg on August 11, at the site of the recent Dunegrass Music Festival, residents of the Village of Empire and beyond have responded to the news with shock, sadness and a sense of disbelief. This generous, eccentric spirit created and presided over village politics, institutions, events and even controversies for nearly three decades, leaving his mark on virtually every aspect of life in the picturesque coastal community.

Glen Arbor resident Beth Bricker, whose daughter Hannah Clark attended the alternative Blue Heron School that Mike helped start in the 1980s, described an impromptu midnight parade that family and friends created on the night after he died. His wife Carol and daughters Amelia, Alyce and Ashley walked barefooted down the street, while Mike’s old truck, festooned with vines, held a band of musicians who hopped out periodically to serenade spectators. A motorcyclist, speakers belting out “Amazing Grace” and the 1960s hit “Lean On Me,” acted as parade marshal, stopping any traffic that threatened to disrupt the ceremonial cortege, as it made its way from Front Street to the Dunegrass field near St. Philip Neri Catholic Church on LaCore Street.

In addition to his work with the Village Planning Commission, which he founded with a small group of residents, Mike created and nurtured several cultural events that have since become solid village traditions, including February’s annual Winterfest, with its infamous Polar Dip in South Bar Lake, and Anchor Day, celebrating the town’s maritime heritage. His best-known creation is the Sleeping Bear Dunegrass and Blues Festival. Originally a one-day showcase of local bands, the festival has expanded over 15 years to become a four-day extravaganza of regional and national music acts, drawing over 10,000 participants to the most recent event, which ended on August 5.

Doug Chapman of Cedar is one of the core Dunegrass volunteers who worked with Mike since the festival’s second year; along the way, the two kindred spirits became “dear friends. He had a thousand friends and his family became my family.” He describes Mike as “a freethinking engineer of the creative force. And yes, he was an anarchist against the dark force that tried to stop the flow.” Each year, it seemed that the festival would founder under the weight of disapproval from village administrators and irate neighbors of the original site on M-72, across from the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore headquarters. Yet somehow, each year, Mike and Carol magically managed to pull the rabbit out of the hat, and Dunegrass played on again.

Doug also recalls the saga of the dog Lopez, a family pet whose misadventures in the village resulted in a harsh sentence that was never carried out, thanks to Mike’s stonewalling. “The judge sentenced Lopez to be put to death. When [the Vanderbergs] wouldn’t produce said dog, the judge ruled, ‘Well, somebody’s got to sit in jail for 30 days.’ Mike volunteered to do it. Temporarily I harbored the condemned fugitive ‘til I found it a home in Alaska. Mike never held a grudge; if he had one, he’d say it right out and deal with it,” he says.

In addition to saving his daughter’s dog, Mike paid bail for arrested acquaintances, arranged airfare home for a troubled teen, offered the use of his truck to stranded strangers, and kept open arms and an open door at his house, offering refuge to a number of sojourners for both short and extended periods of time. Some of these, mainly young people, became known as “The Pod,” a communal family that has flourished under the Vanderbergs’ free-spirited nurturance. One of Mike’s extended family, Sarah Jane Grierson, sang a hauntingly beautiful solo at his funeral on August 15, while longtime Dunegrass cohort “Wild Bill,” who traditionally closes each festival with a flute rendition of “Amazing Grace, concluded the service with the hymn.

Like everyone else, Mike had his feet of clay, but they only served to make this complex individual more intriguing, and increased the respect and admiration many people felt for him. The Glen Lake Library on Front Street is neighbor to both the Vanderberg residence and the Blue Heron building where many of the family and friends’ creative impulses unfold. Library director and Village Council member David Diller, who saw him almost daily for 10 years, recalls his early impressions.

“I couldn’t help but walk past their house and think, ‘What an interesting group of people live here. Is this a youth hostel or what?’ At first, they seemed to be freewheeling scofflaws, but the more I got to know him, the more respect I had for his ability to be his own guy. He didn’t always follow the rules, and it was well-known that he had some demons, but he was well-intentioned, very creative, and made the community a lot more interesting.”

He reflects, “He made interesting lifestyle choices. The Pod seems pretty foreign to most, but it worked for him. I admired him — and the family — for the way they choose to be independent nonconformists. The Vanderbergs have their own style, which is hard for some people to accept, but ultimately, they’re real assets to the community. Mike was a breath of fresh air, and very, very committed to Empire.”

Phil Deering, owner of Deering’s Market, also recalls his former manager with great warmth. “He was my manager for at least 10 or 12 years. Anyone calling up, needing anything, he was there. He made sure we had Anchor Day, and Winterfest, the Polar Dip. I was on the Planning Commission with him at least 15 years, he was there making sure the community didn’t get too far away from its roots.”

Phil continues, “He was always looking after the underdog, and if people said, ‘Eh, that ain’t going to work,’ he’d come up with a way to make it happen.” Other employees, including Shaunna Peacock of Empire, who worked with him for about four years, says, “He was loved by all and will be greatly missed.”

About Dunegrass, Phil muses, “I wondered how much fun he was having [in recent years] … great to be successful, but at the same time, it got pretty big. He put his whole heart and soul into it. I think, at least before you left, you got to see your dream come true.”

Recently, Mike left Deering’s to pursue other business ventures. He took a crash course in sound recording at Northwestern Michigan College, and outfitted the Blue Heron building with recording equipment, so that musicians could record CDs. He also started a labor collective, matching up carpenters, painters and others for jobs people needed done. His work as local coordinator for recent Dunegrass Festivals occupied him as well, although in the past three or four years, he entered into a partnership with Grassroots Productions, who booked the music acts, while Mike remained as local coordinator with vendors, volunteers, village administrators and nearby property owners.

Perhaps Mike’s greatest gift was his ability to provoke others into new thoughts and untested actions, then calmly ride the waves of strong opinion and stormy opposition to a place where people could come together, to make a stronger community that is friendly, family-oriented and fun. Like the famous anchor on the beach, he remains one of Empire’s most stalwart symbols.

A celebration of Mike Vanderberg’s life will be held on his birthday, September 30, at the Empire Town Hall. Look for more details on this and the fundraiser for the Vanderberg family in the September 13 issue of the Glen Arbor Sun or visit us on the web at www.glenarborsun.com.

Posted by editor at 02:02 PM | Comments (0)

August 09, 2007

Seldom seen, always present: Outlaw art & adventure theology in Leelanau

By F. Josephine Arrowood
Sun contributor

Recent visitors to the Glen Arbor Art Association (GAAA) on Pine Street, behind Lake Street Studios, may have been surprised by a large pyramid, traced in steel and enclosing a suspended boulder, that now graces the approach to the building. Yet some have encountered this Art Brut sculpture before, in quite a different setting: peering towards Sleeping Bear Bay from a wooded bluff on Pyramid Point. How the piece, Trismegistus (Mihrab), materialized in Glen Arbor is merely the latest chapter in a decades-old saga that includes mythological gods, heroes, alchemists, outlaw artists and adventure theologians weaving their magic across Leelanau County.

Last December, GAAA board member Beth Bricker received a phone call from Tom Ulrich, assistant superintendent of Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore. The NPS had found an unusual, manmade structure nestled illegally on public land, and rather than destroy it (as other structures have been), he proposed that the arts group take custody of the sculpture.

Bricker and fellow artist Becky Thatcher trekked out on a wintry day to encounter the outlaw art. ”It was amazing, seeing it out there,” Bricker recalls. “I loved how the points of the base really gripped the ground, sort of claw-like,” she demonstrates with her hands.

The art association agreed that the powerful piece deserved saving. After an undignified sledge-hammering out of the woods and into the bed of a pickup, the wounded Trismegistus was fortuitously put into the care of new GAAA board member William Stege. The recently retired banker — also an artist and longtime metal smith — instantly recognized the work’s integrity. “The way it was constructed is very clever, very well-made,” he says. “Someone really knew what they were doing. This is better than a lot of the sculptures I’ve seen at the Chicago Art Institute.”

Although he was unable to replicate the original metal spiral, which wrapped the approximately 350-pound boulder and secured it from the apex of the pyramid, Stege skillfully restored the piece and recently installed it with fellow metal artist Ben Bricker in its new locale at the GAAA headquarters.

In an era where the cult of the individual ceaselessly worships at the pool of Narcissus, just who would create an unsigned work of fine art, then walk away, leaving it to the vagaries of weather, vandals or the interventions of civilized man? For years, Leelanau residents have heard rumors of an Outsider artist whose oeuvre in stone, wood and steel, strung along the necklace of the 45th parallel, reflects a preoccupation with ancient world myths, midaeval Christian symbolism and modern Jungian psychology. Kenny LaRoche’s quest to create a cathedral comparable to the sacred edifices of Europe and the Near East — a “stone book,” according to Victor Hugo — in Leelanau has been met by strong reactions: enthusiasm and passion by some, bewilderment, skepticism and even legal threats by others.

His most ardent supporters (some might call them acolytes) act as spokesmen and mediators of the artist, while Kenny prefers to communicate more non-verbally through his numinous architecture, including early works like Trismegistus, Baitin’ & Waitin’ for Satan, Fallen Warriors, and more recently, Shakkhina and the magnificent Rose Window, temptingly well-hung 60 feet up a tree, and perilously near public lands. As one spokesman, Skippy, explains, it’s all “metaphor with an attitude.”

“Kenny’s work is seldom seen, but always present,” offers another supporter, the Captain, with a smile. “Think about how many people don’t see his outlaw ‘art park,’ including some, six or seven feet tall, sitting on the bottom of Lake Michigan. Nature totally redesigns the art, covered with zebra mussels, or constantly moving in the wind; She’s taken the seed into Her womb and nurtured it.”

Several of the cathedral’s architectural elements like the east and west porches, installed as gifts of the artist on public lands in Leelanau Township and the National Park, have been destroyed or forcibly removed, radical interactions with the art that were anticipated by a philosophical but unrepentant Kenny. Skippy eloquently notes that all cathedrals share a similar fate: “They rise and fall with the whims of weather, fire, local politics and history. … They are living monuments to what people think lies behind the masks of god as the masks wear away.”

The tension between the artist and those with whom he communicates extends from casual encounters with hunters, hikers and park rangers to the established art world. Some people see issues of safety, liability or preserving nature, while others cheer a poke in the eye of rule binders and authority figures of all stripes. Several works hide in plain sight in village squares, art galleries or garden settings, waiting to be noticed by observant eyes, including a 40-foot tall erect penis with stone seed spewing out, commemorating humanity’s bittersweet experience of loss. How does that play out in a largely conservative community?

“Kenny’s not having an [art] opening!” chortles the Captain. “It opens its own self,” in the interplay between object and viewer. “All of us are vulnerable to our life experience,” he continues. “You’ve got to go beyond your insecurities and take risks,” which include everything from the artist’s dramatic, sometimes life-threatening installations to observers’ interactions with art that might galvanize their thinking about individuality, connectedness, or the intimate spaces between the sacred and the profane. Skippy reflects, “It is the work of Alchemy — and of all of the ‘arts’ — to raise and redeem the Spirit which has fallen into Matter,” even if that spirit then chooses to undergo kenosis, or a descent into the mortal frailty of the human world.

For Trismegistus, now visible in Glen Arbor, the icon has moved from wild wooded site to tame town setting. It has perhaps become a Skeuomorph, a “material metaphor,” according to communications theorist Marshall McLuhan (and paraphrased by Skippy), “lifted from its primary function and exalted to the merely Decorative.” Yet Hermes, shapeshifter and patron of liars and other tale-tellers, may have the last laugh, provoking a new chapter in the ongoing story of Kenny LaRoche.

The Captain offers this food for thought: “You can always justify your means and ends by the heroes you select.” Like Hermes, or the Buddhist monkey king Sun Wukung, or other trickster gods, the juicy gift they offer hides a dark prima materia that humanity craves, and which rocks us back on our heels in an endless spin cycle.

He concludes, “We all fight with the urge to control; ‘Here’s the Story, folks.’ The most exciting pieces Kenny has done are ones he’s given to the community and just walked away. He’s grateful to the GAAA for bringing in the piece, if it creates new dialogue. Come and experience it, and go tell your own story.”

Posted by editor at 03:18 PM | Comments (0)

Saving the world, one bucket at a time

By Nadine Gilmer
Sun contributor

“When you get started with one network of aid organizations, you never run out of missions,” says Chris Skellenger, a local musician and gardener whose humanitarian work started with the non-profit Safe Passage, which helps kids growing up in the Guatemala City garbage dump, and has led to other charitable missions. His objective is to save people in rural areas of developing countries from poor nutrition by adding food other than grains to their diets. It’s easy to understand Chris’ enthusiasm for helping the “third world” as he steps through aisles of plants in his greenhouse dubbed “little Africa,” while explaining how bucket kit irrigation, his new pet project, works.

Bucket kits cost only about $7 each are able to irrigate a garden that receives little or no rain water. The bucket is filled twice a day from “gray water,” water that has already been used for washing or cooking. Hoses connected to the bottom of the bucket run through rows of plants, and each plant receives water from tiny openings in the hose that drip a drop at a time. Drip irrigation was introduced in the United States by Dick Chapin, chairman of Chapin Watermatics and Chapin Third World Products in Watertown, New York.

Chris has set up a mock situation in his own North Coast Nursery near Maple City. In the small greenhouse, no water other than the water from the bucket can reach the plants, thereby simulating a “little Africa.” The garden is filled with corn, tomatoes, watermelon and other staples of the food pyramid that people in developing countries often lack. The plants are doing just as well as any others at North Coast Nursery, thriving and nearly ready to be harvested.

Chris and his wife Sue have already traveled to Honduras and Belize in Central America to distribute these kits and instruct the “on the ground” (or year-round) organizations on how to use them. Next they plan on going to Lesotho, the small landlocked African nation surrounded entirely by South Africa. Chris says, “Central America is a popular place for organizations to go, but we’re trying to get to areas that are considerably less developed and where starvation is a daily threat.” Although he admits that in Latin America he was surprised by “the level of poverty, the lack of government involvement in reducing that poverty, and how many on-the-ground organizations from all over the world were working there.” But at the same time he, “thought it would be more physically dangerous in terms of anti-American attitude. That turned out to not be true, people everywhere where just wonderful.”

The Skellengers first became involved with the bucket drip irrigation system through an article in Guideposts magazine, prompting them to start their own non-profit organization called 11 Oaks, whose website, www.11oaks.org, outlines the importance of nutrition for a healthy human and reports on recent fundraising events and trips to the sites. To raise money last year Chris and his buddies played music at the Hayloft Inn on M-72 and raised enough for he and Sue to take 40 buckets to Belize. This year they’ll begin fundraising in November or December with their sites set on Lesotho.

Chris stresses the importance of a balanced diet and the effect this has on people. He says that, “in places where there is little water, it’s like eating oatmeal for six months.” And oatmeal doesn’t provide enough nutrients to stimulate the brain properly. “When people are healthy they don’t develop a culture of hopelessness.” The website states, “in order to learn, you must have access to information and a balanced diet so that the mind can grasp concepts and retain information. The concepts of nutrition and hygiene must be introduced. In other words, the brain can’t learn if the body’s not healthy. Some cultures think it’s normal to get sick once a month and lose half of their children by age 5.”

What a perfect way to really help people in need: by stimulating their own thought process rather than blasting them with ideas from the developed world. Being members of Safe Passage and owners of a plant nursery, Chris and Sue Skellenger are the perfect people to promote bucket drip irrigation.

Posted by editor at 03:15 PM | Comments (0)

Female brewers reclaim their art

By Debra Townsend
Sun contributor

Stacey Block isn’t about to let big beer companies tell her what kind of frothy ale she should fancy. Stacey is a brewster, as female brewers are referred to, and along with only two other brewsters in Michigan, she is reclaiming the craft that originally began in women’s hands thousands of years ago.

In its earliest days, beer was made only by midwives and nurses that brewed medicines and tonics from plants and roots. In Europe, during the industrial revolution, commercial breweries began to sprout in cities when governments saw the opportunity for taxes and revenues. By 1445, the first “men only” Brewer’s Guild was established. In the years that followed, being a brewster offered a good chance of being hung or burned at the stake. A majority of the women who were condemned to death as witches were listed as brewsters, alewives or midwives. By the mid-nineteenth century, brewing had become a man’s world. In Europe, brewmasters, or male brewers, are trained in schools where processes are standardized, contributing to the comparatively bland homogeny of European beers in contrast to the robust and varied flavors of American micro-brews today.

When President Jimmy Carter legalized home-brewing in the 1970s, people began making beer at home, which increased the diversity as home brewers experimented with various grains, hops and yeasts. The resulting array of brews is broad enough to appeal to all tastes. Just in the last decade, micro-breweries began to pop up in downtown urban revival areas and are quickly spreading across the country.

Stacey, peering into a massive stainless steel kettle where the “mash” begins its journey to the taps in the front room, is currently brewing at Arbor Brewing Company in the college town of Ann Arbor and The Corner Brewery in nearby Ypsilanti. The owners of each of the two establishments, Matt and Rene Greff, say they were thrilled when Stacey came to work for them. Having started home-brewing in five-gallon buckets in their own kitchen 20 years ago, they appreciate the fresh mindset that an early brewer has, someone who’s not afraid to try new things and break away from tradition. Matt and Rene say, “we hoped to find someone with professional brewing experience ... but not too much.” Having known Stacey for some time, they hoped she might apply for the job. “Wouldn’t it be cool to have a female brewer?” Rene asked Matt. The idea fermented into a successful brew for all.

Arbor Brewing Company starts a new batch four to six times a week, with Matt scheduling the order of beers to be made. Letting their palates decide how strong the brews should be, they critique the batches with the taste buds of connoisseurs. The strains of hops and grains chosen will affect the finished beer, as do temperatures, process times and any spices that are used. Though the micro-brewery and brewpub together currently offer 22 beers, including the favorites, the cask-conditioned I.P.A. Sacred Cow, the lighter Brassiere Blonde and the Special Bitter Red Snapper, their minds are always brewing up new ideas.

Last October, Stacey (Roth) Block was married on the stage of the Great American Beer Festival in Denver. She and her husband Tom decided to wait until spring to have their wedding reception at northwest-lower Michigan’s own Short’s Brewery in Bellaire. Stacey and Tom have been friends with Joe Short since they worked together at Michigan Brewing Company in Webberville near Lansing, and continue to get together to collaborate on new ideas. Joe worked with Stacey and Tom to make Dan’s Pink Skirt Pale Ale, a 6.7 percent I.P.A., to serve at their celebration and Joe has kept the batch on tap until it sells out. As a model of Stacey’s preference towards a beer that makes your salivary glands sing for more, the Pink Skirt was named by fellow brewer Dan Rogers, and is defined as “not a beer for wussies.”

Stacey’s been in the industry for five years, beginning as a bartender at Michigan Brewing Company, where she says Dan influenced her palate and style. While working in the business, she enjoyed tasting different beers. Although she was studying limnology (water) and entomology (insects) in college, she says she realized her science background was leading her to be curious as to how the beers were made, and not long after it became evident to her that brewing was her passion.

“I love it because its hands on,” says Stacey. “You know at the end of the day you’ve done something ... you get to enjoy what you’ve made and watch other people enjoy it too.”

Stacey continued to work in the field in bottling operations, and hanging out with other brewers to learn in her spare time. Eventually, she was offered the opportunity to test her skills at Grizzly Peak in Ann Arbor, where she first began brewing. Stacey admits that she had to prove she could handle the job before she was hired; be able to take on the physical aspects of brewing despite her gender and small stature, including lifting the 50 pound bags of grain to fill the hopper and cleaning the tanks. Her desire to prove herself hasn’t changed much since then. Says Stacey, “I feel like I have to be better than any other male brewer because I may only get one chance to prove myself ... and not just be some chick.” Stacey believes it is passion, not gender, that makes a good brewer, and her co-brewers definitely agree.

Now she splits her time between the Arbor Brewing Company brewhouse and the Corner Brewery with Matt and one other brewer, Ryan Hale. With six 10-hour days being the norm, Stacey says she’s glad they not only get along so well, but they all find it easy to pick up where the other has left off. Watching them from just inside the brewhouse, a glass enclosure filled with the kettles and tubing that are the updated version of the traditional cauldron, it’s easy to gauge their respect for each other, and fun to watch how excited they get when they collaborate on a new project. The beers they make are now available at the Grand Traverse Resort, Oryana Food Coop in Traverse City, Shop n Save in Benzonia, and will soon be on tap at other northern Michigan establishments.

The owners of the brewpub and microbrewery say that their clienteles, a diverse and growing group who want more than just average beer, are mostly 20- to 40-year-old urbanites. “Some are here because they have defined tastes, and others are here to taste what defines a good beer,” says one aficionado. The atmosphere is like a community gathering, with as many women as men milling around the room, having friendly conversations about good food, concerts, and of course ... beer.

It’s interesting to think that when prohibition ended, beer distributors advised big breweries to make milder beers. Those who are savvy on the subject insist that women were the driving force behind prohibition, and that only by appealing to women’s tastes for smaller beers, could the market be regained.

Stacey might have something to say about that.

Posted by editor at 03:00 PM | Comments (0)

July 26, 2007

Tom Fordyce rocks

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

Call it cabin fever or, as Tom Fordyce recalls, “I wanted something to do to keep myself busy and thought it was really cool.” After building his last contracted home through Thomas Fordyce Construction a couple of years ago, he discovered he had some idle hours beyond the 40 to 50 hours per week he spends doing home repair around Glen Lake and the two to three nights per week he performs with the local bluegrass band Cabin Fever. So, Tom began burning a little after-hours fossil fuel in his former woodworking shop, now metamorphosed into a workspace for stone cutting and polishing, with a bench for jewelry making.

“I get carried away out there,” he says of his new hobby. “I glance at the clock, and it’s 2 or 3 a.m., and I think, ‘Oh, geesh, I have to get up at six!’”

Tom’s obsession for rocks and gemstones began in earnest almost two years ago at the Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral Show in Traverse City. Meeting like-minded people, joining the club and attending classes gave him the nudge he needed to turn one large rock collection he inherited from his grandfather, Perry Fordyce, into truckloads of natural treasures — mostly North American fossils, minerals and gems obtained from the estates of collectors.

Perry Fordyce’s agates and crystals, including a beautiful specimen of Desert Rose, a.k.a. sand rose, from Oklahoma, had always fascinated his grandson, who remembers gazing at the contents of a three-foot wide by four-foot tall display case in Grandpa Fordyce’s house in the little town of Vermont, Illinois. Tom also remembers his grandpa’s place had lots of stones in the sidewalk and rocks in the gardens. After retiring from 55 years as station master for Burlington Railroad, Grandpa Fordyce liked to travel to Florida in his RV. One of his favorite stopovers included Crater of Diamonds State Park in Hot Springs, Arkansas, the world’s only public diamond mine. For a whopping five dollars, a person can still hunt for diamonds in a rainbow of colors, as well as 40 rock and mineral varieties. Whatever the value of the find, it’s finders keepers for the mine’s serious collectors, vacationers or retired visitors.

Tom, not ready to retire at 58 but, in his own words, “slowing down,” says he’s forever taking his dogs Jake and Ziggy for walks at Empire beach. He also takes trips with the Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral Club to places like Thunder Bay, Ontario, to comb the amethyst mines, or to the Upper Peninsula’s Keweenaw County for copper or dolomite. He shares that the best time to go rock hunting above ground is during or after a rain, when it’s easier to see the patterns and colors. Local beachcombing efforts have netted Tom some nice slag, such as “Frankfort Green” and “Leland Blue,” remnants of past iron-smelting operations. He’s even found a couple of mysterious pieces at the Empire beach he dubbed “Empire Green.” The smooth specimens of dark, variegated green are thought to be a type of basalt from north of the Arctic Circle which were deposited here by a Canadian glacier, or so says Kevin Gauthier, one of the area’s notable rockhounds, author of “Lake Superior Rock Picker’s Guide” and owner of Korner Gem in Grelickville.

In fact, it was Kevin who taught Tom how to cast pieces in sterling silver and another Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral club member and silversmith, John Matz, who trained Tom in flatwork techniques he uses to fashion his jewelry. From jade to jasper, opals to fire and leopard skin agate, rainbow petrified wood to Fordite, (layers of paint from the River Rouge Ford Plant), Tom’s list of cabochons he cuts himself from slab or rough goes on and on. “What’s not so good, anything with fractures, becomes a display piece or goes out to the garden,” he said, matter-of-factly.

With three five-pound coffee cans of fire agates alone, Tom’s in no danger of running out of stock anytime soon. Pieces of equipment (slab saws, trim saws and polishing machines) for cutting and polishing his wares have outgrown the shop and are quietly appearing in the garage. Tom’s eyes light up when he talks about someday expanding 20 feet out the back for a separate display room for his collection, a “clean room,” he calls it, with an outdoor courtyard. He thinks about hanging a simple sign on the highway in front of his house that reads, “Petoskey Stones.”

Of pounds and pounds of gloriously colored and patterned stones, many he found on the beach, many from astounding collections, and special, smaller crystals from a Munising friend’s visits to Hot Springs, what is it that most people ask to see and want to use in jewelry? “Gosh, Petoskey stones. Always,” he answered. If people don’t find them on the beach, or they want ones they did find polished or mounted in a piece of jewelry, they tend to find their way to Tom.

“A lot of the stuff I get, I get it so cheaply. I trade a lot with my rock club partners or people who have stones I don’t have.”

One of Tom’s prized possessions is a fossil John Boomer found in his cherry orchard down the street. He also loves the agates: Lake Superior, red plume, fire, leopard skin, crazy lace. He’s also partial to rainbow petrified wood. “It’s hard to have a favorite when they’re all so beautiful,” he said. He’s particularly proud of his collection of Centuryite, the only of its kind in the world. Centuryite? Tom breaks into a wide grin as he explains that the striped slabs are layers of paint from the famed, former Century Boat Works of Manistee. “People will say, ‘There’s my boat!’” Tom says with a mischievous laugh.

A fellow obsessee wants to know how he can bear to let any piece, nevermind his favorites, become someone else’s property. “It’s hard to part with, sometimes, but you see people wearing them. That’s even cooler.”

He does have some favorite moments in his shop, such as the time he opened a geode and found mammoth-sized crystals inside. Then, there are new ways of doing things that bring surprising results, such as the discovery of a buffing compound that puts a shine on Petoskey stones like no other he’s seen. New ideas have come to mind there, as well. As a homebuilder for 30 years, Tom envisions other uses for his colorful slabs. He’s talked to local people about creating custom, gemstone accent tiles. Tom’s kitchen island is decorated with stone, as is his bathroom vanity. A mosaic of pebbles and stones surrounds his garden tub.

“It’s a great hobby. You can stay at home, learn with others or take trips.”

He’s an enthusiastic ambassador for the local geology club, too. “It’s a lot of fun,” he says. “These people are great; they taught me a lot.” With a membership fee of $15 per year and $10 classes of three to four sessions, it’s well within the average person’s budget, too.

For more information about the local rock club and the annual Rock and Mineral Show at the Grand Traverse Heritage Center on Sept. 29-30, visit www.tcrockhounds.com Great information about Michigan rocks and rock-hunting opportunities can be found at www.dayooper.com.

Posted by editor at 02:11 AM | Comments (0)

A Day in the Life of a family at Le Bear Resort

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

For Marty and Judy Ulrich, Le Bear Resort seemed too good to be true. How else could the couple from downstate Grand Blanc, with three busy daughters between the ages of eight and 13, buy a luxurious second home in the Glen Arbor area and enjoy vacations “up north” without the hassles of cooking, cleaning and finding kindling for a beach bonfire? How else could they enjoy the amenities of an upscale resort within cherry pit spitting distance of Lake Michigan, while still being able to walk into town and enjoy all the shopping, dining and culture that our tourism industry has to offer during high summer?

The Ulrichs had been coming to the area, and usually renting at The Homestead, for 25 years, so when Le Bear opened on the north end of Lake Street in early 2005, they jumped on the opportunity to become fractional owners in Glen Arbor. Marty and Judy, an ear, nose and throat physician and a part-time nurse, respectively, paid approximately $325,000 for a 2,600 square foot luxury apartment with three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the ground floor. For six weeks a year (though usually not consecutively), the couple in their mid-40s can sit on their circular couch in front of the fireplace and enjoy the view of Sleeping Bear Bay through the north-facing windows, or soak in the resort’s heated pool that’s open year-round. Or Marty and Judy can stroll the beach while their girls, Lauren, 13, Amanda, 11, and Emily, 8, skip into town to buy ice cream at the Pine Cone.

They take advantage of the amenities their wealthy, gated community provides, while enjoying life in Glen Arbor, too — all while avoiding their car while on vacation.

“The location for me is what sold the deal,” explains Judy, who remembers sitting out on the deck eating pizza delivered by the concierge, while the kids swam in the pool, and she and Marty signed the papers. “We can park here for a whole week and walk around. I love the location and the beach access, but I love the town access just as much.”

Marty believes that Glen Arbor has retained its rustic feel and controlled its growth unlike, for example, Petoskey, where the Bay Harbor resort makes Lake Michigan off limits to the public for miles and miles, or parts of Traverse City, where fast food restaurants and sprawl litter the landscape.

“Here you truly feel up north,” he says. “More people have come to the area and homes have gotten bigger, but all these years later Glen Arbor still has places like Art’s Tavern and the Pine Cone.”

What is a typical day in Glen Arbor like for the Ulrich family? In the morning they go to Barb’s Bakery for cinnamon twists or to Thyme Out for smoothies, and then they make the shopping rounds to staple locations like the Totem Shop, the Cottage Book Shop, Tiny Treasures, T’nT Video and the candy shop at Boone Docks. The afternoon might yield a couple hours kayaking in the bay, on jet skis that Le Bear has delivered on request, or horseback riding. While on vacation the Ulrichs typically don’t eat dinner until 7 or 8 p.m. About half of the time they eat at one of the area’s fine dining locales (“In Grand Blanc we don’t have the choice of restaurants that we do here,” laughs Judy) and half the time they order in, because Judy would prefer not to cook while on vacation. The concierge at Le Bear will pick up from any local restaurant, or Windows Restaurant at Le Bear will also deliver to their apartment.

In fact, what doesn’t Le Bear do for its residents? Judy can email concierge Lisa Rahe with a grocery list before the Ulrichs arrive up north, and they’ll open the door to a fully stocked refrigerator. The cleaning staff will come at a prearranged time every day and take care of the dishes and dirty laundry so that the family can avoid household choirs while on vacation. And yes, of course they leave mints on the pillows.

For the kids, the concierge coordinates pie eating contests, or arts and crafts one day and an ice cream social the next. How about kite flying on the beach or a group roasting s’mores every evening on the beach? The resort provides a detailed itinerary of local events, art openings, concerts, farmer’s markets and anything a family in vacation mode might enjoy. As Judy says, “that encourages us to patronize and spend money locally.” The family recently stopped by Great Lakes Tea & Spice and asked owner Chris Sack to send tea packages to Grand Blanc. They did the same at Cherry Republic.

Last year the Ulrichs spent Christmas in their home at Le Bear, and when they arrived the staff had set up a Christmas tree — a real tree, which the kids hadn’t had before — with the lights already arranged on it. All the family had to do was hang the ornaments. But perhaps the most memorable evening for Marty and Judy was the anniversary they celebrated up north. Chef Randy from Windows came to their kitchen with white linens in hand and prepared a delicious perch fillet with crab puffs and a salad while the spoiled couple drank wine at the counter. For dessert they dipped fruit in a heavenly chocolate. Then, Judy remembers, they walked the beach while the staff cleaned up.

“We are creating memories with our time here,” Judy explains. “We don’t want to work while we’re up here. We want quality time with each other because it will be gone by in a flash. Another four years and the kids will begin heading off to college.”

Posted by editor at 02:08 AM | Comments (0)

Glen Arbor’s crowned prince tickles the ivories

This story, about the late Andy Anderson, who passed away earlier this month, originally ran in the Glen Arbor Sun on June 19, 1998

Here in Glen Arbor Andy Anderson’s suave demeanor makes him the local icon. This is the man who owns not one, but five cars that most locals consider luxurious. And he softens women’s hearts every time he churns out ragtime tunes from a piano bench. His storytelling of years past made a lasting impression on me the first time I met Glen Arbor’s most popular man …

You see Andy has yarns to tell from plenty of different places. He fought in the Pacific in World War II; He went to Harvard for a degree in business and played piano with Leonard Bernstein. He started his own business in Akron, Ohio, which has since expanded nationwide. But my favorite stories of Andy’s are from his sailing days in the Caribbean since his retirement.

Listen: “I retired about ‘71 or ‘72 because I had an objective. I always wanted to go back to sea, but not on a light cruiser. So I bought a Ketch. I talked my wife into going along and I convinced my kids to become the crew. We took off and sailed down to the Caribbean. We were fascinated by Costa Rica — the people, their system of government — so we stayed the maximum allowed 90 days. But by the end of the 90 days I knew the immigration guy. He was nice, spoke pretty good English, so I bought him a bottle of rum — a present so I could stay a little longer.”

Andy once dreamed of circumnavigating the globe, but the engine on his boat broke down and he never bought a new one. Anderson has taken more to land toys since then and he’s best known in Glen Arbor for driving classic cars. On any given day Andy might be seen in his ‘84 Mercedes Benz station wagen, his miniscule ‘71 convertible, his ‘80 four-door sedan or his ‘80 Toyota which he’s been restoring ever since he got it. Andy also owns a 1951 Chevy truck, which he only uses to haul furniture.

But mostly he uses a car to come play the piano at the Leelanau Coffee Roasters, where he stops by sometimes four or five times a day. Andy is such a fixture at the Arens brothers’ place that they bought a piano — an antique 1912 Grinnel Brothers piece just for him ... and then moved it to their new location on Western Avenue just for him.

“Moving the Coffee Roasting Company and not the piano would be like moving the U.S. Archives and not the Constitution,” John Arens said.

Posted by editor at 01:57 AM | Comments (0)

July 12, 2007

Empire’s yoga instructor stretches body and mind

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

The one question Jessica Sharry hears more often than any other is, “What is the purpose of yoga?” The Empire Community Center yoga instructor has had plenty of practice answering. “It’s a method to work out all of the kinks, to stretch and strengthen,” Jessica says. “It’s a great physical workout.”

When she isn’t bartending or waiting tables at The Friendly Tavern, Jessica is teaching Ashtanga yoga on Wednesdays at Empire’s town hall, as she has for the last 18 months, or at Sacred Space in Traverse City. As far as she knows, she’s the only person teaching this particular type of yoga in the area.

Ashtanga yoga is a physical and mental exercise or practice that synchronizes breathing and physical stretching in a series of poses called “asanas” that generate heat and sweat, just as other workouts do. It also focuses the mind.

“Asanas are just as beneficial as any sport or exercise,” Jessica says.

The difference, she explained, between other types of workouts and yoga is, anyone can do yoga — young or old, slim or corpulent, injured or sick. Her contagious laugh bubbles forth as she recalls the one type of person who cannot do yoga. In the words of the grandson of the oldest living Ashtanga yoga master/instructor:

“…a lazy man,” said Sharath Rangaswamy, with a wide smile. “A lazy man cannot do yoga.”

There are eight limbs in Ashtanga yoga, and the third limb is the asanas or postures that Jessica’s class teaches. A person who is not lazy may begin learning a primary set of poses, (such as those taught in Empire), and, once mastered, (as determined by an instructor), consider progressing to the next level. In all, there are six levels of postures ranging from primary to advanced. Most people, though they spend a lifetime practicing Ashtanga yoga, never reach the more advanced levels. Many are comfortable to practice and perfect the primary level of postures.

Unlike other yoga classes, where the instructor leads the class by doing the poses with the students, Jessica said the Ashtanga instructor gives commands verbally while making numerous hands-on adjustments to each student’s pose, correcting postures and reminding students to breathe. After the physical workout, students are encouraged to sit still in meditation. Her students tell her that they leave the 90-minute class feeling better than when they came in, both physically and mentally. The “coolest thing” about the Empire class in particular, she said, is that many are now doing just exactly what they thought they couldn’t do in the beginning.

“It quiets the mind, so you can realize your full potential. Some people say ‘self-realization’ or ‘enlightenment.’ Yoga is not a religion, it’s a practice. It’s a physical and mental practice that can also be a spiritual practice — that doesn’t adhere to any one god or religion — but it doesn’t have to be spiritual.”

Ideally, class would be two-and-a-half hours long, Jessica says, to accommodate a period of meditation that follows the intensity of the workout — but no one today can devote that much time, including the instructor.

In her free time, she enjoys practicing her yoga postures, which she calls her “daily vitamin,” learning Reiki (a Japanese healing art) or playing bass guitar with a friend.

“For a yoga instructor I’m kind of weird, because I like heavy metal music,” she says with a belly laugh.

One of Jessica’s other loves, running, was supplanted by yoga when she found that the vigorous and engaging exercises satisfied her need for a physical workout and balanced her energetic personality.

“I do have a lot of energy, and yoga gives me more, but it’s a more even, balanced energy,” she says, adding that her nickname at work used to be “Stressica.”

A quote by Patanjali, who wrote the yoga sutras, one of the oldest yoga texts, is among her favorites: “Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.”

She says yoga helped her through the deaths of her father and grandmother, a marriage and a divorce. She was so taken with its grounding influence on her life, that she trained as a teacher at the Yoga Hawaii studio in Honolulu with instructors Anthony Carlisi and Rupali. Once, during the 30-day intensive workshop, Carlisi was “so into it” that he led his class in mediation for an hour past time to go home.

“That’s a good example of where yoga can take you,” Jessica says, emphasizing that any style of yoga can confer this type of benefit and many others. “Find a style that suits you,” she says.

Drop-ins are welcome at her Empire class, held at 11:15 a.m. on Wednesdays during the summer and Saturdays the rest of the year. “Be ready to sweat,” Jessica says. The free class is offered through the Community Center, and in-class donations are gratefully accepted. Outside of her regularly-scheduled Empire and Traverse City classes, she offers private instruction to small groups in people’s homes. For more information, call 228-7835 or email her at yogagrrl75@yahoo.com.

Posted by editor at 06:22 PM | Comments (0)

The path of Laughing Waters

By Ian Vertel
Sun contributor

Carol Laughing Waters: “[that’s] a name I received in a waterfall in Yellow Stone National Park.” During a trip of camping and traveling, Carol of Maple City says, “it was very clear that that was my name. It was my first real experience of connecting with the Earth.” At first, Carol only used the name in circles of close friends or gatherings. However, she says that it became even clearer that Laughing Waters “was my legal name and I had to claim it.” She describes how, according to Native American tradition, names often change and are something one has to grow into. For Carol, it was for her to become a “laughing person [with] more lightness and joy.”

But it wasn’t always easy for Carol to use her true name. It was “difficult to use that name; I was feeling fear which was mine to overcome,” remembers Carol, filled with apprehension that native people would judge her. However, her fears were dispelled when native elder John Bailey told her at a Bioneers Conference that “there are many ways of knowing,” quotes Carol. She was giving a workshop on natural dyes and weaving — one of her passions — when John cast out her fear.

For 10 years, Carol has been a weaver. Initially, she used harsh, chemical commercial dyes, but became concerned when she saw other dyers who used the same products fall ill. At this point, “[I became] curious about the plants” and the dyes they could offer. Simultaneously, she immersed herself into the medicines of the plant world, and as a member of the Weaving Guild, she “met other women interested in the medicines.” Soon after, she decided that it “was time for us to get together and explore the medicines of the plants. We were small in number, but strong in passion,” describes Carol. As a result, the Herbal Alliance of Northern Michigan was organized, with Carol as one of the guiding members on the “Steering Wheel,” a group of the original herbal enthusiasts who wanted the power of directing the group to be shared equally rather than distributed in a system of hierarchy.

Fascinated in the healing power of the herbs, Carol has allowed the medicines of the plants to come to her when they are needed instead of seeking them out. “I watch what grows around my door and my land,” she comments. She remembers how she fell in love with the perennial plant boneset, a remedy for flu, fevers and viral infections. In turn, she harvested much of the enchanting plant. That winter, Carol, who will turn 70 in September, became ill, plagued by high fevers and intense night sweats. The sickness held onto Carol, reoccurring in severe bouts. She finally researched the properties of boneset and discovered that it was the perfect medicine for her condition. The remedy found her before any sign of illness manifested, as “it would have been pretty hard to find in the winter,” Carol now says in a lighthearted tone.

While Carol practices her own herbal medicine or receives alternative medical care from other practitioners, her true passion is for healing the Earth. “I have huge amounts of grief because of what’s happening” to the Earth, she says, due to all the harm human beings are incurring on the planet. But Carol will not allow the sadness to consume her and cloud her vision. “I can spend the rest of my life grieving, or I can see what I can do to be a part of the solution.” Along with working with the herbs and natural dyes, and teaching how to return to natural ways of living, Carol directs most of her energy to the formation of a Community Land Trust. “I’m concerned with the land in Leelanau County and how fast it is disappearing,” she explains, which has a profoundly negative effect on the community, deterring young families from starting their lives here.

A Community Land Trust “is about giving the land back to Herself (the Earth); this ownership thing is something we made up,” says Carol. In a Land Trust, a person can put a piece of land in it, but the Trust holds the title. Homes, farms, etc. can be built on the land affordably while still insuring that “it will never escalate” in terms of development, explains Carol. Another advantageous result of the formation of a Community Land Trust is that “land will never be used as a commodity.” The Trust can also stipulate whatever parameters it decides are necessary to preserve the pieces of land. For instance, one such stipulation could be that the farming done on a particular parcel of land must be organic to promote sustainability and extend protection to that ecosystem.

But while some support exists for the Community Land Trust, Carol encourages people to become motivated and active, as the current proponents are just a “handful of people,” she says. The proponents of the Land Trust have met with the Michigan Land Use Institute and have had extensive interviews posted on the website. Furthermore, this group has also approached the Leelanau Conservancy and the Grand Traverse Conservation District, and are currently “seeing what types of collaboration” can occur. Carol invites anyone interested in learning more about the Community Land Trust or who wishes to become involved to contact her at (231) 228-6591. She is confident that support will grow like the herbs, appearing when the time is right.

Posted by editor at 05:59 PM | Comments (0)

June 28, 2007

Puppets airborne, and hands in the soil, at Little Artshram summer camp

By Corin Blust
Sun contributor

The first thing that strikes me about the Community Garden in Traverse City is the creative ways that people have outfitted their respective garden plots. There are trellises made out of hula hoop-like wire structures, a lovely bean support made out of poles scavenged from the forest and an impressive variety of different vegetable and flower bed shapes and mulching styles. There are also loads of healthy-looking plants tended by members of our community.

It is inspiring to see such enthusiasm for gardening. In an era when it is normal for us to eat fast- or frozen food on a regular basis, it’s easy to forget that the carefully packaged items we put in our shopping carts did not just fall from the sky. Knowledge of the impact our food has on the earth is more important than ever.

Penny Krebiehl, an area resident since 2000, is trying to spread community awareness of the footprints we leave on the earth through the Little Artshram Summer Art-Farm Camp for children in first through sixth grades. The program rents five garden spaces at the Community Garden and implements the Permaculture practice of careful observation of natural patterns, cycles and diversity. It is held in partnership with the Art Center of Traverse City, which sends over visiting artists to make art with the children as well.

Penny’s children examine their connection to the earth through the creation of art prompted by the basic concepts of food, water, shelter, and community During their week at the Art Farm, they get to paint and draw nature outdoors, make puppets, write and perform their own puppet show and sing and dance, all while tending and learning about the plants that live in the Art-Farm gardens.

The Permaculture principles for agriculture are important ideas, especially for young minds that are just beginning to examine their place on this earth. The concepts include catching and storing energy from the earth, producing no waste, integration rather than segregation, implementation of small and slow solutions rather than large and fast ones, creative use and response to change and placing value on the margins.

These concepts are evident all over the program. For the basic garden need of irrigation, Penny and her assistants have a modified rickshaw-like cart that they use to haul water from a nearby stream rather than using a well. They also collect rainwater in rain barrels scattered throughout the garden, and will soon have a water-catching system off the roof of the Art-Farm barn. A composting toilet is also on their wish list.

One of the most refreshing things about Penny’s approach to gardening is her creativity. She ran a community art center for children in Lansing for several years prior to moving to Leelanau County.

There, Penny “really liked the community element of people being able to walk, bike and come to the art space without driving their cars. It was more localized.” Unfortunately, at the Art Farm in Traverse City, “the approach is a little different because we are outside and we have to drive to get here, but I think it’s a really valuable experience for the children to learn to adapt to their environment and make art even though they aren’t indoors in a classroom,” she says.

Penny is known for her amazing ability to organize children’s programs at music festivals such as Dunegrass, Blissfest and Earthworks, as well as her involvement with the Earth Day Parade in Traverse City and her commitment to being a positive force in our community through Little Artshram Farm.

Her large papier-mâché puppets are a beautiful surprise to find floating above a children’s parade at a music festival, and the things she can put together with items that most people would consider garbage are fun to create and play with — even for adults. My favorite so far are her cardboard and coat hanger chicken puppets she taught us to make for the children’s activities at the 2006 Blissfest and Dunegrass festivals.

Andrea Hemphill, one of the teachers-in-training at the Art Farm and a frequent festival volunteer, told me that the best part of working with Penny is the way she shares her knowledge. “We learn a lot in a creative way, and the way we learn things makes us go “Ohh! Yeah!” when we figure it out because it’s a more self- directed learning process. The most important thing we lean is that we can all do it. It’s a big learning process, and it makes us feel really good,” she told me while pulling out invasive Star Thistle from the garden plots.

Penny will hold four sessions of Art-Farm Camp this summer: June 25-29, July 16-20, July 23-27 and August 6-10. To register, contact the ArtCenter in Traverse City at (231) 941-9844. There are also many other fun events being held by Little Artshram Farm throughout this summer and fall. For more information please visit www.littleartshram.org.

Posted by editor at 11:16 AM | Comments (0)

Music: Balm for the Mind

By Codi Yeager
Sun contributor

Only around 20 people sat in the small, flag-decorated hall at The Leelanau School on June 8. The doors, open to the summer afternoon, ushered in only a tiny breeze, but the small audience focused not on the heat. Their attention was on the young pianists whose muscle-memory fingers whizzed across the keys to release the joy of Mozart, the passion of Bach and the haunting melodies of Chopin. It was the culmination of another year of musical dedication, and from the rookies to the seasoned veterans, the pupils of Yvonne Daly once again earned the mom-baked cookies that waited at the end of their performance.

Many of the students have been playing for years, and the end-of-the-year program was nothing unusual, whereas others, such as Chloe Gribbin, only began playing this past January. Chloe, who plays the trumpet in the Glen Lake High School Band, has “always liked the piano. It looked so fun to do, and it’s a lot more relaxing than the trumpet,” she says.

Playing musical instruments in general, and especially the piano, “takes stress away,” explains Yvonne, a longtime piano instructor, “it’s a change in pace after a busy day; a departure from the job or school that lets you get out of that world and have time to yourself.”

After working on a piece of music for a time, there is a period of pure release when “you have it figured out and it all goes smoothly. You can play it easily because you’re just playing it for fun,” says Maura Niemisto, a student of Yvonne’s for 11 years.

This is the feeling that the teacher encourages her students to strive for, when “they can enjoy it instead of making it a labor.” Yvonne’s ‘playing for fun’ approach to piano lets her do what she loves, which is “helping young people discover the emotional and musical side of the music. It’s fun to see everyone grow musically because everyone develops differently,” she says.

Yet piano does more than offer a refuge from daily troubles: it exercises both the mind and body in ways that aren’t accomplished by any other pursuit. Yvonne says that there is a “section of the brain that gets developed that doesn’t otherwise. It’s been shown to help in math and science.” Many of her former students have gone into technical fields such as engineering, and one even attended Harvard Medical School and is now a cardiologist.

Dane Hillard, whose last performance as Yvonne’s student was the program at Leelanau School in early June, will follow this path when he attends the University of Michigan this fall to major in Computer Science. Dane’s musical experiences are vast, as he also plays guitar, saxophone, bass and drums, but “piano is the basis of everything,” he says. Though he is not pursuing a career in music, Dane says he plans on “definitely continuing piano just for fun. The things I’m into, like math and science — they’re all in the same part of the brain as piano. If you do one, it helps the others.”

Playing the piano uses hands, muscles, eyes, ears, everything all together in a way that the body doesn’t do on its own, and, as another student, Stephen Wurst, explains, it is truly a “workout for the mind,” albeit, an enjoyable workout that is made even more enjoyable when taught by Yvonne.

“She’s a good teacher, she’s funny, she’s got quite the personality,” says Chloe. Noted for her sense of humor and interesting stories, Yvonne herself began playing at the age of five. Taught by her mother, who was a concert pianist, she went on to attend the American Conservatory in her hometown of Chicago, and then Northwestern University for music. Her family had been coming to Glen Lake “since before I was born,” Yvonne remembers. “It started when my uncle got hay fever and the doctor told him to head north. He went to Little Traverse Lake at first, but then they heard about Glen Lake and took the horse and wagon over and fell in love with the place.” After that, they came up every summer and “my mother bought the land I’m on now.”

Later, her music would take Yvonne to the Venezuelan city of Maracaibo, where she taught piano and music theory at a newly formed music academy. “I was the only American and the only woman,” she remembers, and was in charge of “two choirs: a children’s choir of 40 voices and an adult choir of 40 voices.” During her three-year stay, Yvonne took part in a trio on a radio program called Leche Polvo (“powdered milk” in English) and also met her husband. She was married in Traverse City and then moved to Pittsburgh and taught piano to about 40 students there. After the death of her husband, Yvonne says she, “decided to move back to Glen Lake, teach whoever was around, and spend the rest of my life here.”

She has done just that, sharing her talent with those who wish to learn and continuing her legacy of music. Most of the students she now teaches perform once or twice a year in the Leelanau School hall, happy to play a piece or two for family and friends, while others perform and play simply for “the sheer enjoyment of being able to do it,” says Yvonne. The wonderful part is that piano is there for everyone, no matter how old or young, and it is a skill that can provide pleasure for a lifetime.

Posted by editor at 10:54 AM | Comments (0)

June 14, 2007

Looking East for the answers to addiction

By Ian Vertel
Sun contributor

Buddhism is a philosophical theory about the mind. It is a “precise science of the mind,” says David Hendricks — a science of nature, and of consciousness. With this understanding of the nature of the mind, locals Sharon and David Hendricks have applied their Buddhist teachings and philosophy toward healing individuals afflicted by addiction at their facility, Another Path, in Traverse City. But before opening the addiction treatment center, a journey of exploration and learning to Asia was necessary.

Photo courtesy of the Hendricks family

David, Sharon and Will Hendricks (seated in foreground) traveled to India and studied with Tibetan Buddhist Geshe Rinchin (background) on addiction treatment.

Originally, David practiced addiction medicine in Madison, Wisconsin. Coming to the realization that each individual possessed unique reasons for addiction, reasons that could not be broken by generic treatment, he turned to a more “intuitive, developed understanding,” to identify methods and means of treatment for these unique individuals. David saw the problem in a completely Western approach, and sought an alternative method. The solution he found was in Eastern philosophy. His wife Sharon recognized the same need to integrate an intuitive, Eastern understanding into the treatment of addicts. Sharon received a Master’s Degree in social work at the University of Wisconsin, and has been practicing psychotherapy for 20 years.

In 1989, David and Sharon met with the Dalai Lama, who suggested that they incorporate Buddhist teachings into addiction medicine to provide the dimension of intuitive mental evaluation they were seeking. Compelled by the request of His Holiness, David and Sharon began to pursue the development of such a practice.

Interested in learning the ancient Tibetan script necessary to translate sacred texts, David studied at Wisconsin in 1990, and “enrolled as a graduate in Buddhist studies.” He spent five years there, and later became Chairman of the Department of the Wisconsin medical school.

In 2000 the Hendricks family and their children built a home in Empire — retracing the steps to Sharon’s northern Michigan roots. David resigned as Chairman in 2003, and Sharon also resigned from her job in Madison.

Free of their occupations, David, Sharon and their 12-year-old son Will left for India in January, 2004. They had “no grants, no letters of recommendations; we were complete unknowns,” when they arrived in Katmandu, says David. Will had just finished sixth grade when the family began their journey to India. Initially, they toured Southeast Asia, as David had traveled there during the Vietnam War with an economic development organization. Arriving at Dharamsala on March 1, 2004, David, Sharon, Will rented a shepherd’s hut in the mountains. Living a short distance from the Tibetan library and archives, the family attended teachings, and learned from the highly respected Geshe Rinchin.

Sharing their mission about incorporating Eastern philosophy into addiction treatment medicine, Geshe Rinchin suggested that David and Sharon seek out a Tibetan text titled, Mind and That Arisen from Mind or Mind and its Mental Functions, “a core Buddhist text of mental functioning,” explains David, In developing this new methodology of treatment, it became Sharon and David’s duty to translate the sacred text.

Both Sharon and David worked to translate the text, but each took an individualized approach. David says, “Sharon and my minds don’t think alike.” She took a more “general” approach, while David intended to translate the text “precisely”. The information and knowledge it revealed would later have a powerful influence on the formation, structure and practice of the Traverse City addiction treatment center Another Path. But while the text was translated, a “translation is not the same as understanding,” emphasizes David, which meant that the material had to be taught to them. However, the Hendricks family would soon discover that the language barrier was strong, though not impossible to cross. Even if a teacher was found, a student would also need to find a translator.

The Hendricks family’s journey continued, as the Himalayan winds guided their steps. Due to a regulation that requires visitors to leave India every six months, the family arrived in Katmandu, Nepal, where they were delayed because of a “corrupt consulate,” which demanded preposterous monetary compensations. However, their stay at the Varaja Hotel in Katmandu had a hidden purpose unbeknownst to the family: the hotel had its own library for guests. Prevented from leaving for three weeks, the family studied the texts the library offered, accepting the knowledge that would also contribute to the vision of Another Path.

Still seeking a teacher for Mind and That Arisen from Mind, the Hendricks family sought out a Tibetan monk from the Institute of Buddhist Dialects, Gen Gatso. Sharon and David would listen to Gen Gatso, receive his teachings, and then transcribe the text. Once Sharon and David had a complete version of the text that satisfied their spiritual pursuits, translated into English, they each had a copy bound in India.

Traveling once again, Sharon and David journeyed through India and then visited Sri Lanka. While traveling and providing medical care to monks who heard of David’s medical background, David sought to “develop a technique used as a framework to devise a new way of understanding human psychology.”

Seven hundred thousand people die from addictions each year in the United States. If David could connect what he was learning to his work in addiction medicine, thereby improving addiction medicine and treatment, “it could result in the single biggest way to save lives,” he hopes.

One remarkable product of the Hendricks family’s journey was that Will entered manhood during their stay in Asia. He was tempered and hardened by sickness from unclean water and high-altitude exposure. Combined with the teachings he received when he attended sessions with his parents, Will was home schooled, and focused on writing, algebra and science. “Will would spend two or three hours a day playing guitar,” recalls David, as well as receiving an education. He began to “take responsibility for his education,” and learned by studying independently. Growing up in India, “Will is partly Indian.”

After fulfilling their spiritual missions of discovery, exploration, learning and personal healings, the Hendricks family found that the transition back into American life and culture required a large adjustment. However, the vision was clear as to how to integrate Buddhist philosophy into a center of addiction treatment and medicine. Both Sharon and David shared the thought that “if addicts can be made, they can be unmade.”

The product of their journey to Asia and their studies there were to develop “a unified concept about mental health, healing and addiction,” says Sharon. This unified concept would address the fact that addictions result from a severe trauma in adolescence, as “the mind influences the body,” says David. Events in the consciousness are transmitted to the physical brain that carries out order-like objectives. Because the “brain follows orders,” addiction results from such experiences. This is a central component in the approach Another Path undertakes to understand the reasons behind a person’s addiction and then address that addiction to promote healing.

While Sharon and David work to heal individuals with addictions, Another Path must be sought by the individual who has decided that he or she wants, or needs, treatment. The individual must realize that they are the lotus, emerging from the mud that is the chaos, negativity, obstacle and hindrance to healing and growth. But once free of the mud, the lotus blooms, revealing its true nature of spiritual beauty.

Posted by editor at 11:00 AM | Comments (0)

Chef Mario brings gusto Italiano to Homestead resort

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

Mario Deruda has a food motto: “keep it fresh, keep it simple.” That blends well with the cuisine at America’s Freshwater Resort, where Chef Mario arrived in mid-May after The Homestead resort hired the native of the Italian island of Sardinia as its executive chef. “I’ll be making traditional central Italian dishes to fit the lifestyles of the people on vacation here, with food that’s not too heavy,” says Mario in his delightfully thick Mediterranean accent. “I’ll use as much fish as I can get. My sauces are very light, so the meat retains its flavor. Everything must complement the main flavors of the meal.”

Ask the Chef about his favorite food, and he’ll answer with a melodious ode to pasta: “I’m very proud of my risotto, as well as fresh gnocchi, ravioli and fettucini, which I combine with a variety of traditional Italian sauces.” Chef Mario sank his teeth into the culinary arts 35 years ago, following in the footsteps of his older brother, whose trips to cook at famous and wealthy locales around Europe made him jealous. Mario trained at the world-renowned Peck restaurant in Milan, and came to the United States after being recruited to work at Alfredo in the Italian pavilion at Disney’s Epcot Center in Orlando.

New York became home for 15 years, where Chef Mario worked at Tre Scalini, Cipriani, F.illi Ponte and Mazzei. Twice he was awarded the high distinction of being invited to demonstrate authentic Italian cuisine at the James Beard House, which showcases culinary artists from around the world. As his reputation skyrocketed and he was recognized as being one of the Big Apple’s top chefs, the rich and (in) famous sought out Chef Mario. Leona Helmsley, the notorious tax dodger reputed to be a “boss from hell” claimed regional Italian cuisine as her favorite, and hired him as her personal chef before she went to prison. “Helmsley loved the fresh pastas and fish, especially salt-encrusted sea bass. She could eat an entire fish by herself,” Mario remembers. His personal experience with her? “I’m sure there are many people in this world worse than her. I never had any problem with her.”

Once the time came to find a quieter home, “Michigan presented itself as a good future spot.” Chef Mario and his wife Laurel moved to Grand Rapids, where he worked as the Executive Chef at Tre Cugini and Noto’s Old World Italian Restaurant. One Sunday he opened the newspaper and saw an advertisement looking for a chef of Adriatic cuisine at Nonna’s restaurant at The Homestead. Just a few weeks ago Mario moved into the resort’s central village, within steps of Nonna’s, “so I don’t get lost,” while Laurel and their eight-year-old daughter Marina (with whom he tries to speak Italian, though she always replies in English) remain downstate.

Nonna’s is open Thursdays through Tuesdays from 6-10 p.m. throughout the summer. For reservations call 334.5150. And its food is now bellissimo!

Posted by editor at 10:57 AM | Comments (0)

Center Gallery opens with clay-based art

from staff reports

Pottery has returned to the Lake Street Studios after a hiatus of half a decade. And for the first time, ever, it is on display at the Center Gallery in Glen Arbor. Thirty-two-year-old Matthew McGovern, a native of Vermont who has also lived in Maine, California, Wisconsin and South Africa, and just completed his MFA in three-dimensional art at Bowling Green State, arrived for the first time in northern Michigan for his opening at the Center Gallery on Friday, June 8, and he hopes to stick around until the weather turns sour or, he jokes, until silversmith Ben Bricker chases him out with a machete. McGovern’s pottery will be on display at the Center Gallery until June 28.

Photo by Joanne Rettke

“My work is all based around the idea of it having a context outside of the cabinet,” Matthew explains, “Allowing it to function in way that’s synonymous with a painting, or also on a utilitarian level.” His work displayed in the Center Gallery includes teapots and cups, vases and whiskey boxes.

“We talk about what a handmade teapot means to you and me if we sat down with it. Not so much aesthetics but how you spend time the thing. Objects pick up baggage based on the experiences that happen around us … that’s what really interests me … how we build a relationship with the object through experiences, and how we allow that object into the moments of our lives. The tea shared between you and your father as you told him you were getting married, for instance.”

Posted by editor at 10:25 AM | Comments (0)

A Rose by any other name

By Helen Westie
Sun contributor

Kay and Tom Rose are two extraordinary Empire citizens … well, as all know … they are an integral part of the town’s activities. Both Kay and Tom are devoted, indefatigable workers for their favorite organizations: Tom for the Empire Lions Club and Kay for the Leelanau County Democratic Party.

Photo by Mimi Wheeler

Kay is concerned with politics and issues. She writes letters to politicians and newspapers, notably to the Traverse City Record-Eagle and the Leelanau Enterprise on matters that concern her. When asked about her hopes for our nation’s political future, she replied, “I have days when I find it hard to stay positive, with the mess in Iraq still going on, and so many other problems, it seems we never hear any good news. Still, I have faith in mankind, and I think the world will someday work together for the good of the planet. I have high hopes that with a new leader in 2008, the United States will begin to mend relationships at home and abroad, and begin to go forward in a new, positive direction. Peace, love and understanding are my hopes for the future of the world.” In the past Kay has been the Hospitality Chairperson for all Democratic Party meetings. She is now co-Chairperson for all dinner meetings in the area.

In 2004 the Empire Lions Club elected Tom “Lion of the Year”. He is always helpful at Lions events, and the Asparagus Festival Lions Club Dinner and Wine tasting on May 19 was no exception. Empire’s Johnson Park is leased out to the Lions and Tom takes care of the maintenance and grounds. He collects rent from the families and organizations that hold events there. The Lions Club also owns a large barn under Tom’s guidance that has space rented for automobile storage in the winter. The Lions meet regularly and Tom bartends at these events.

Tom and Kay were married in 1958 and will be celebrating their golden anniversary in October, 2008. They have five children, seven grandchildren and two great-grandsons. Kay worked in the credit office of Grants Department Store downstate in Ypsilanti and later drove the school buss for Van Buren Public Schools in Belleville for 21 years. She was active in Michigan Education Association activities and belonged to a running group called the Belleville Striders. With the help of a friend from this group who now works for Northwest Airlines, which sponsors marathons, she was able to travel to Malaysia and Prague.

The Ford Motor Company in Ypsilanti employed Tom for 30 years. Tom’s roots go way back to Empire. His grandfather, Dr. Delbert Rose, practiced medicine in Empire years ago in an office on Front Street. Tom was born in the Frankfort Hospital and lived in Empire until he was three years old.

Tom and Kay purchased a house on Aylsworth Street in the 1960’s from Tom’s aunt who owned it after Dr. Rose and his wife Gail passed on. They came north to Empire for vacations in the summers and winters, and finally moved into an adjacent house.

Kay and Tom’s family is scattered, but they manage to travel downstate to Cincinnati and other parts of the country for visits.

Posted by editor at 10:22 AM | Comments (0)

Park volunteers lend a hand

By Jane Greiner
Sun contributor

Eleanor Comings, a retired teacher from Frankfort, is approaching her ten thousandth hour of volunteer work at the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore (the local branch of the National Park Service), a fact that she didn’t readily share. She was more comfortable talking about her work.

“I started because I loved the outdoors,” Eleanor says. Her first assignment as a volunteer was checking trails. She walks a trail every day and reports on problems like trees down or loose dogs, and helps lost people find their way out. In the winter she does the same thing on cross-country skis. The volunteer trail work is organized by the Friends of Sleeping Bear.

In addition Eleanor volunteers at the Philip Hart Visitor Center in Empire and the Maritime Museum in Glen Haven, helps out with the Park’s Artist in Residence program, lends a hand at the annual Port Oneida Fair, assists with the Saturdays at the Lakeshore program, tour guides the senior citizen buses on the scenic drive and occasionally participates in search and rescue operations. Most of these activities fall under the Volunteers In the Park program.

She enjoys all the people she meets in her work as well as the opportunity to be outdoors and learn more about the outdoors.

“I love doing the senior citizen bus tours. It’s a chance to meet many interesting people, including many from foreign countries.”

“One time I had a busload of Russian visitors,” she says. “Only one woman on the whole bus spoke English and she was the interpreter. I would say a few words and the translator would say several long sentences. I never knew what she was saying, but they were all screaming with laughter.”

“It’s been wonderful volunteering for me because I am outdoors and they have me doing so many different jobs.”

Eleanor is just one of more than 800 people who volunteer at the Lakeshore each year, annually donating around 30,000 hours of work to enhance the Park experience for millions of visitors. The Blacksmith Shop, Boat Museum, and Life Saving Station in Glen Haven, for example, are almost completely staffed by volunteers.

Next time you enjoy the Sleeping Bear Dunes, whether on a park trail, at the Visitor Center, camping or attending one of the Park special events, look around you. Many of the people helping out are likely volunteers. And Eleanor may be there with them, quietly lending a hand.

Posted by editor at 10:07 AM | Comments (0)

May 24, 2007

Profile Ann Oberschulte: A fashionista returns to her roots

By Nadine Gilmer
Sun contributor

From her Italian brown leather boots to her equally hip jacket, Ann Oberschulte looks every bit the part of the local boutique owner: fashion savvy and comfortably trendy. She walks around The Cottonseed apparel like the fond owner of a small paradise. The racks of earthy garments and displays of artisan jewelry become a maze she walks through, expertly taking inventory of her hand-chosen goods.

Ann inherited The Cottonseed from her parents, Marc and Diana, when she moved back to Leelanau County. After living abroad in cultural meccas across the western world — from Sweden, to Ann Arbor, to Chicago, to Portland — she returned to ease the workload of her parents and their transition into retirement. They have finally hung their hats after selling the Totem Shop to Doug Thomas and Richard and Stacy Roberts, who also own the Harbor House in Leland. “I grew up on my mom’s back in retail,” Ann says of her childhood spent in the Totem Shop, The Cottonseed and the Sleeping Bear in Empire, which her parents also owned. (The Sleeping Bear recently took the name Bear North and kicked off its new era with an energetic parking lot square dance as part of the 2007 Empire Asparagus Festival.)

When it came time for college, Ann chose the University of Michigan for a degree in Arts and Ideas in the Humanities. After graduating from U-M she moved to Portland, principally to study photography, and then to Chicago where she worked as a traveling saleswoman in a fashion industry apparel showroom for three years, traveling all over the Midwest and occasionally to New York. “In my travels I got to see all of these boutiques and I realized that my parents had one of the best retail environments I had ever seen,” Ann remembers. “It had a lot of potential.” So after years of moving from big city to big city she returned to Leelanau County. “I would always come back for visits, (but I tired of) having to leave my friends and return to Chicago.”

So this hometown girl returned to her roots for good after time had worn away youth’s impatience. “I had my experiences and learned what’s out there,” says Ann. “But this is my home. There’s no better home than with your family and with the people you grew up with.” In doing so she bucks the trend of many upwardly mobile local young people who move away to the glitz of this country’s cities and suburbs, and usually only return for visits.

Early last year Ann purchased and remodeled a delightful home near the New Neighborhood in Empire, where she now hangs her hat. Like the Cottonseed, her home is also a fashionista’s paradise. What was her inspiration? Imagine a Parisian settling in California, she says. But most important of all, her northern Michigan roots are outside and all around.

Posted by editor at 05:38 AM | Comments (0)

November 09, 2006

Local passionate environmentalist fights on

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

Watching Bob Grooters mingle with the baristas at Glen Arbor’s Leelanau Coffee Roasting Company and greet the few folks seated outside on a typically quiet fall day, he looks as unassuming as any northern Michigan year-rounder. You wouldn’t think Bob is worth $150 million.

But that’s the amount of increased revenues he’s generated for the State of Michigan’s natural resources trust fund from oil drilling since 1979 — and $150 million is only as of 2002. Grooters is an environmentalist who won’t quit. He’s no policy expert, but an instigator who has accomplished missions with his voice and his passion, his letter-writing campaigns and his long drives.

Now Grooters is about to turn 70 years old and he has embraced a new cause, or rather one that hasn’t yet gotten the recognition it deserves. Grooters owns pristine land just outside of Grand Rapids dubbed the Bear Creek Nature Preserve. For the last 10 years he and his partners have been trying to sell the 42-acre parcel to an organization that will preserve it long after they’re gone, but so far they’ve come up empty. The Department of Natural Resources Trust Fund wouldn’t agree to sponsor it, and after expressing interest early on, the Land Conservancy of West Michigan seems to have dropped the ball, or at least it won’t make an offer within Grooters’ ballpark.

“It’s long past time to get this preserved,” he says. “If I have to form a new land conservancy, I’ll do it!”

Bob Grooters should be taken seriously.

Turn back the clock to March of 1979. The Michigan Supreme Court had just handed victory to environmental groups fighting to stop oil companies from drilling in the Pigeon River near Gaylord. But attorney Roger Conner, then a rookie lawyer and now executive director of the U.S. arm of Search for Common Ground (one of the world’s largest nongovernmental conflict resolution organizations), told Grooters not to get his hopes up, for “the oil companies would challenge everything, drag it out and narrow any victory we got. Anything they didn’t like, they’d go to the legislature and get it overturned.”

No sooner had the state Supreme Court made its decision than a proposal to lease one million acres all around Pigeon River dropped onto the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) desk. Without contest the deal made it onto the DNR’s agenda for approval at a meeting to be held in Detroit on March 16.

From 10 p.m. on Wednesday evening until 2 a.m. the next morning Bob Grooters sat and penned a letter he would deliver that morning. At 5 a.m. he climbed into an old Plymouth Station Wagon (he called it his Plymouth 7 because he could never get the eighth cylinder to work) and left Grand Rapids. After breakfast he went straight to the office of the Detroit Free Press and asked to speak to an editorial writer named Barbara Stanton. On the eighth floor he told the receptionist that Roger Conner had sent him.

“What do you want to see her about?” the receptionist asked.

“Oil,” said Grooters.

Stanton flew out of the meeting she was in and Grooters briefed her that Michigan was about to authorize a million-acre lease to oil companies. He asked for an editorial to run in the Free Press the next day.

“Mr. Grooters, do you hear that pounding going on?” she told him. “That is tomorrow’s paper … But I’ll see what I can do.”

At the DNR commission meeting in the Detroit Veteran’s Memorial Building Grooters wasn’t penciled in to speak until late in the day, and he spent the buildup lobbying everyone there to “please stay strong and listen” to what he was about to say.

When Grooters finally spoke, he told the commission that Michigan’s 1/8 (12.5 percent) royalty share from private oil companies drilling on its lands was miniscule compared to what other states, and other countries, received. His correspondence with Premier Lougheed of Alberta, Canada two years earlier had revealed, for instance, that Alberta received shares ranging from 28-45 percent.

Grooters was asked by a Mrs. Wolfe whether pools of oil in Alberta are much larger than here in Michigan, and would thus lend themselves to far greater efficiency. The moment she asked the question Grooters knew that he should not be debating the topic. After all, he was no scientist. Strategically, he answered that the answer was very complex and that he would need 30 days to study it.

Grooters then weathered an attack by a Dr. Tanner who sought to put him on trial and not the initiative to lease a million acres for oil drilling. Strategically, again, he backed down and apologized unconditionally, “because I hold you and the commissioners in the highest esteem.” The passionate environmentalist knew he had planted the seed. He took his seat and watched the mudslinging begin. Shortly thereafter the meeting broke up in chaos without even a motion to adjourn.

“I was so excited that I left a gas station in Detroit with the gas hose still attached to my tank and I ripped the tank loose.

“The next morning I awoke at 5 a.m. again and went to a news stand to purchase the Detroit Free Press. The headline to Barbara Stanton’s editorial read: “Oil and gas and pitfalls underline Michigan.”

Michigan eventually increased its state royalty rate from 12.5 to 16.66 percent, meaning that Lansing has Bob Grooters to thank for a full quarter of the oil and gas royalties it has collected since 1979.

“On that scale I’m the biggest producer of oil royalties for the State of Michigan — even bigger than Shell Oil!”

Twenty-seven years later Grooters has picked another fight. This time it’s about the Bear Creek Nature Preserve, a setting every bit as close to his heart as Pigeon River. And he won’t stop fighting until he wins.

Posted by editor at 11:42 PM | Comments (0)

September 15, 2006

Time to migrate south for Empire’s snowbirds

By Helen Westie
Sun contributor

A veritable little Empire exists in South Florida every winter. An enclave of snowbirds go to their winter homes in this attractive, well-kept mobile home park, named Holiday Park, which is Northport, Florida, about 100 miles north of Naples. It all started with Caroline Balmer who bought one of the mobile homes after her mother had moved there. Mary and Max Wendell moved in the following year. And then within a few years, in the late 1990’s came Theresa and Ray Sullivan, Mae and Dale Van Houzen, and later, Mary and Jim Dailey. A few downstate friends are now a part of their community.

On hearing of the great fun this group enjoys, the writer of this article tried to rent a home a few years ago in this park but there was not one available. Now rumor has it that there are rentals to be had because the seller’s market is depressed.

When asked to comment on their winters, Ray and Theresa Sullivan penned this joint comment: “There is no place in the world like Empire. It will always be home. But it is a blessing to be active all winter with fellow Empirons in 70 and 80 degree weather.”

At times the whole group enjoys a day at a nearby beach for a picnic or a cookout. They may attend a movie or a dinner together. All are involved in some activity, be it a Mah Jonge, tennis or bridge.

When asked why she enjoys Northport, Mae Van Houzen said, “It’s the people first and the great weather second. Our Empire extended family of friends challenges us to stay in shape physically through sports and exercise, mentally through reading and playing games, and spiritually through our shared love of our Lord. It’s a great time in life and we are grateful for these friendships in Empire and Florida.”

Every member of the group talks about how they help each other. It may be with building or repairs. It may be an emergency such as the bad fall Jim Dailey had on the tennis courts when he was rushed to the hospital by Mary and Max Wendell with a compound fracture of a finger. It may be to help with food and encouragement when someone is ill. All birthdays are celebrated together, often with joke gifts. When Mary and Jim, the newcomers, arrived, a big stuffed parrot was hanging from a dining room ceiling. Also, a bottle of a wine was there to greet them.

“We have spiritual, emotional and physical support from each other,” according to Mary Daily. “We hate to leave Empire but Northport, Florida is our home away from home.”

Sometime in October the Empire snowbirds will be on their way. By November 1, all are settled in at Holiday Park.

Posted by editor at 07:08 PM | Comments (0)

August 24, 2006

A new breed of Leelanau farmer

By F. Josephine Arrowood
Sun contributor

In an era of declining family farms, both in Leelanau County and nationally, it seems almost astonishing to encounter individuals willing to carry on the ancient and honorable traditions of tilling the soil and caring for animals. Maple City sheep farmer Alesha Ashley — intelligent, energetic, and determined — is one of a new generation of agricultural stewards gracing Leelanau’s landscapes.

The 26-year-old grew up in small-town Albion; her father works for Post, and her mother is a lab technician in nearby Battle Creek. Although she majored in economics and accounting at the University of Detroit-Mercy College, she has always enjoyed working with animals. In 2004, she decided to pursue her early dream of farming, and familiar with this region through vacations in Benzie County, Alesha chose work as an intern for several months at Forest Garden Organic Farm near Maple City, owned by Jim Moses and Linda Grigg. Poultry farming is one of her interests, and Jim and Linda’s advice proved valuable as she established her brood of 20 hens and three roosters this spring.

Alesha also bought a pair of male goats, Nibbler and P.B., when they were about three weeks old, both for companionship and lawn-mowing duty. She cheerfully bottle-fed the kids every four hours for a month; however, the rambunctious duo eventually proved too much for the budding farmer. “They got into trouble all the time!” she laughs, somewhat ruefully. “Goats are acrobats, and they work as a team. They’ll definitely teach you where your fencing needs are.” She sold P.B., but keeps Nibbler, whose sunny social disposition is testimony to the farmer’s positive yet disciplined approach with her animals.

With her passion for the fiber arts, especially spinning, knitting, felting and touring yarn shops, Alesha has acquired several sheep, the sole survivors of a flock that had been savaged by stray dogs. Her white ram Aragorn is a Rambouillet, a breed prized for their fine wool, while Nemo, a young male, and Hershey, a pregnant older ewe, are Suffolk stock. Anne and Willow, two Corriedale-mix females, round out the flock. The sheep were sheared in April by an itinerant shearer, and their fleeces sent to upstate New York to be cleaned and made into roving (fiber prepared for spinning). Alesha frequents the farmers’ markets in Glen Arbor and Leland, selling her wool and demonstrating spinning and knitting techniques.

Partner Hoyt Dunkin provides the pastureland on 40 acres just east of Maple City, as well as much-needed helping hands for the many and diverse chores that a new farming operation entails. This quiet, easygoing son of the 1960’s grew up in urban Royal Oak, near Detroit, studied computer-aided design and drafting, and joined the Army, where he served as a peacekeeper in Egypt, enforcing the Camp David Peace Accord. Later, as a National Guard member, he was called into battle during Desert Storm. Returning to civilian life, Hoyt worked as a cellular tower designer, before returning full-time to Leelanau, scene of many childhood weekends at his grandparents’ farm.

In 1947 his Detroit-area grandparents had bought 80 acres one mile east of Maple City, part of which they planted in cherries. Hoyt recalls with amusement, “My grandpa was a reformed character, so when my grandma kept stealing apples from the neighboring farm, he decided to buy the 40 acres across the road,” to make her an honest woman again. In addition to their orchards, they planted corn, and built “Corn Cottage,” where they would stay when they came up nearly every weekend from downstate. He explains that, for his hardworking German ancestors, farming was — incredibly — their recreation, their hobby. In the 1980’s his grandmother sold the 40 acres of apples and corn, and Hoyt eventually inherited half of the original cherry farm, although the outbuildings and water supply are long gone. He seems pleased that his land has returning to agricultural use, albeit in a different form.

Hoyt met Alesha two years ago, and they began to talk about letting her chickens run on his land. “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into,” he laughs, looking around at the busily pecking poultry, amiable Nibbler, and the small but growing flock of sheep vigorously tearing at the spotted knapweed that grows so abundantly. By a curious coincidence, his mother had owned a yarn shop for many years, although Hoyt never plied the needle arts and vows never to learn to knit. However, he’s definitely in the agriculture game for the long-term, and the pair is already planning for autumn and beyond, including erecting fences and winter shelter for their ovine charges.

Despite a demanding lifestyle of caring for many animals, without the benefit of buildings for shelter or storage and without running water nearby, Alesha and Hoyt seem to be thriving as well as the animals. “You can’t have a bad day with animals, so you have to take care of yourself,” Alesha explains. She rises around 5:30 a.m. each day to the accompaniment of her roosters, feeds the animals, waters them with buckets hauled from Maple City, takes dog Pinky for a walk, then heads to one of several part-time jobs at the Rustic Inn, Cedar City Market or Pleva’s Meats. Hoyt releases the cooped chickens in the early afternoon — “so they’ll get used to laying eggs during the morning,” Alesha explains — and the two return in the late afternoon or early evening to complete their farm chores.

She also acknowledges the encouragement and assistance they’ve received from family, friends and neighbors. “All the people who’ve helped us are amazing,” Alesha enthuses. “The chicken coop was framed all in one day with donated materials from Terry Weber and John Wall, except the door and window,” which they salvaged from a Traverse City curbside. Weber helped move the coop to its present location, while Terri DeFilippo donated fencing and posts.

The young farmer has many ideas for future expansion, which include expanding her flock with multi-horned, variegated colored Jacob sheep; growing and selling organic produce from a road stand; and offering freezer cuts of lamb, as well as Boer goats for the ethnic and gourmet meat markets. She’s straightforward in her philosophy on the life cycles of farm animals.

“My whole thing is educating people about where their food comes from. I remember butchering day,” during her internship. She continues: “I wouldn’t want my children to grow up thinking chickens came from the grocery store.” Her customers, too, appreciate her efforts. “If anyone wants to know my growing practices, I’d be happy to let them see. Once they see all that goes into my product, they value it so much more.”

Posted by editor at 08:37 PM | Comments (0)

The Petty’s departure is ripe in the Land of the Sleeping Bear

By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor

It’s the end of an era at The Leelanau School in Glen Arbor as Duane and Fiffy Petty are heading to Wichita, Kansas. Since 1990 both Pettys have been fixtures at the private high school from which all three of their children, Jason, Michael, and Erin, graduated.

In more than 16 years at Leelanau, Duane Petty wore numerous administrative hats: he has been the coach of a successful tennis program for all of those years, as well as serving as Athletic Director and Director of Summer Programs for 12 years, Dean of Students for 7 years, Director of Building & Grounds for five years, and Director of Admissions for five years. Duane also coached Junior Varsity basketball a couple of years, and has worked for five school presidents during his long tenure.

As a gifted and successful coach, Petty fondly recounts the statistics and the players that highlighted his career here. Duane was on Bill Hollenbeck’s football coaching staff at Glen Lake along with Mike Hill in 1994 when the Lakers won the state championship. “We had guys like Jamie Mazurek, Todd Ciolek, Mike Depuy, Jason Butz, Rob Semple, and they all played their roles perfectly,” Petty recalls. “Our German exchange student (Tom Brendelberger) kicked 51 of 53 extra points.” Coach Petty worked with the defensive backs and the offensive receivers on that team. “Mike Hill and Bill Hollenbeck really energized that team,” he adds. “Those guys really love football!”

At Leelanau, Petty’s tennis teams accumulated an unofficial dual match record of 89-76. “People race toward 100 wins in a coaching career,” he explains. “We had tremendous success in the 90’s, and in recent years we’ve had developmental teams.” From 1991 to 1995, Petty’s players went to the State Finals six times, once in number one singles (Derek Paquette) and five times as a team. “We won the Regionals here from ’91-‘94, and came in second in ‘95. Our best finish at State’s was eleventh out of 17 teams.”

In Duane Petty’s early years at Leelanau when the enrollment was around 100 students the school fielded teams in 13 competitive sports in the Cherryland Conference. “We had some great basketball teams in the ‘90’s,” Duane remembers, “and one year the Trent Duncan, Brian Monroe, Jason Nargis team went 22-2.” One of the highlights of those years was the ’96 District Soccer title. “Over the years the biggest successes were teams with a predominance of locals,” Petty muses. “On that soccer team 8 of the 11 starters were students from this area, like Nargis, Dan Herd, Jordan Bates, Adam Navarro, Michael Petty and Jacob Wheeler. In tennis that was also true, but there we also had a good compliment of outsiders.”

One of the characters Duane Petty particularly remembers is Brian Monroe. “He spent five years at the school because we had an eighth grade then, and he accumulated 27 or 28 varsity letters. Brian played on every boy’s team we offered, usually two or three teams per season. He was an incredible athlete, and that is one of the most amazing accomplishments I’ve every seen.”

As a footnote it should also be noted that Duane was the chairman of the Glen Arbor Township Park Commission from 1995 to the present. In that role he has been instrumental in the expansion of the awesome playground and the hugely popular tennis courts in the middle of town. Thanks, Duane!

As Director of Alumni Relations at Leelanau, Fiffy Petty was instrumental in the tremendous growth of a languishing program. “At my first reunion in 1991 there were only two people,” she laughs. “At the school’s seventy-fifth anniversary in 2005 there were 150!” Fiffy fondly remembers working with Willis Hawkins from the first graduating class of 1932. Willis was an executive at Lockheed for 65 years. “He designed the C-130 transport plane and worked on either the F-14 or F-16.” When Willis passed on in 2004, Fiffy was asked to speak at his memorial service. “I spoke to his Lockheed colleagues at Van Nuys Airport. That was my greatest honor.”

Other Leelanau School notables whom Fiffy counts as friends include the late Lane Smith, class of 1955, the Hollywood actor who played Perry White in “Lois & Clark” and Nixon in “The Final Days,” and who appeared in “My Cousin Vinny” and “The Mighty Ducks.” There’s also Dr. Martha Seeger, class of 1950, the first woman to be appointed to the Federal Reserve Board, for a 14-year term, by Ronald Reagan. And Walter Netsch, class of 1938, is the architect who designed the famous chapel at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.

Fiffy particularly enjoyed working with Arthur Huey during her tenure at Leelanau, and she communicated with Cora Beals, who co-founded the school with her husband Skipper Beals. “The alums are family to me,” she says. “More than alumni, they have become friends, and that’s what happens with 15 years of calls and gatherings across the country.” Fiffy will continue to volunteer for the Leelanau Alumni Organization, attend gatherings, and help edit the newsletter “Manitou Passages.”

Duane Petty has already headed out to Wichita to become the Dean of Students and to do some coaching at the Wichita Collegiate School. “It is a private day school for pre-kindergarten thru twelfth grade,” Fiffy explains. “Arguably the top private day school in Kansas, Wichita Collegiate has top-notch academics, with 20 Advanced Placement classes, and athletics second to none. There are countless state championship trophies in their trophy case.” The school serves 1000 students, 260 in the high school, on a 42-acre campus.

“This is a great opportunity for Duane,” says Fiffy, who will stay on at Cherry Republic into the fall before joining him in Wichita. “We may just keep our house here in Glen Arbor so we can spend the summers here. Now, suddenly, Duane will have his summers off!” Godspeed and good luck, Duane and Fiffy Petty, and thanks for everything.

Posted by editor at 06:54 PM | Comments (0)

Dropping pounds like they’re going out of fashion

From staff reports

Linda Ihme posed the challenge last winter, and Dave Baxter answered. The proprietor of Leelanau Vacation Rentals promised a free elliptical machine to the employee who could lose the most weight between January 1 and July 1, and all winter and spring the slimmer-trimmer Dave resisted offers of free beer and pizza from his fellow colleagues who wanted to block his road to victory. As of July 1, Dave Baxter had lost a whopping 59 pounds, and is the proud owner of a new elliptical machine.

“Sometimes you just need a big incentive,” says Ihme. “We worked together and that made it easier. I’d encourage other businesses to do the same with their employees.”

Posted by editor at 06:33 PM | Comments (0)

From China to Empire, diplomats make a local home

By Helen Westie
Sun contributor

A diplomat couple residing in Beijing is the new owners of the former Bed and Breakfast on South Bar Lake just off LaCore Road in Empire. Bruce Quinn and Teresa Howes, former attaches at the American Embassy in Beijing, purchased the property from William and Susan Chamby, who bought the house and land from Dave and Shirley Thorogood 20 years ago. Before that, Tim Barr had moved the house from the National Park and sold it to the Thorogoods. At one time, five cottages were on the property and were occupied by Air Force personnel. These are gone now, but a single building still stands toward the lake, and the new owners hope to convert this into a sauna.

When these world travelers were confronted with the question, “why Empire?” their response was immediate. “Empire offered us everything we were looking for, both in a vacation destination as well as a permanent home,” according to Bruce. Teresa’s response was, “having grown up in this area, Kaleva and Brethren, I feel at home in Empire because everything is so familiar – the forests, the wildlife, the tranquility and the strong sense of community. It is completely opposite to our life overseas.”

At present, Bruce is the vice president for Rockwell Automation, Beijing, China, a division of a Milwaukee company that provides automation systems, power control and information solutions to factories. Teresa is an agricultural consultant for her own firm, Howes Associates.

Having spent the summer in Empire with their children, Conor, 14, and Caroline, 11, (Bruce’s from a former marriage), they are due to return to their present jobs. The children say they enjoyed the beaches. Like their parents, they also hold diplomatic passports and speak Chinese. Bruce and Teresa had the house remodeled somewhat, and painted themselves.

Bruce and Teresa have had remarkable careers. A few years out of high school, Bruce joined the military and, before long, was part of the U.S. Special Forces Division. He was often required to work independently in high stress or hazardous environments. He trained Special Forces medics and became an advisor to foreign militaries in Latin America. He earned his bachelor’s degree at the State University of New York in Albany and a master’s degree from Fitchburg State College in Massachusetts. On leaving the army, he taught social studies in junior high and high school for two years at the American-Nicaraguan School in Managua. He also taught evening and weekend courses in U.S. history, culture, and English as a second language at a national university. After this, he became an attaché at the U.S. Embassy in Beijing. He advised U.S. companies and exporters on doing business in China. He traveled extensively throughout China; here he became acquainted with Teresa, also an attaché at the Embassy. After this, he became a Trade Negotiator for China in Washington, D.C. He had to monitor and enforce compliance with the World Trade Organization agreements among many other duties.

Teresa’s life also took her to faraway lands. She was an exchange student to Sweden when in high school in nearby Brethren. She graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in German and sociology, and received graduate assistantships to teach elementary and conversational German. After her undergraduate degree, she volunteered for the Peace Corps and was sent to Thailand where she designed, obtained funding for, and implemented projects on sericulture extension, clean water catchment and diversion systems and dry season irrigation in remote villages. She edited a monthly Peace After Volunteer publication. Interestingly, her mother Beverly Howes volunteered for the Peace Corps at the same time. She said she wanted her “own country” and was sent to Swaziland in Africa. Beverly, who lives in Oregon, visited Empire this summer.

After the Peace Corps, Teresa earned a masters degree in agricultural economics and landed a job with the U.S. Department of Agriculture. She served as the agricultural attaché in China for three years, joining the U.S. Trade Representatives Office on her return to Washington to help negotiate China’s entry into the World Trade Organization. It was during this stint that Teresa and Bruce became an item, a couple so to speak. They moved to India together in 2003 where Bruce worked in the U.S. consulate and Teresa did consulting.

With 10 years of China experience under their belts, Bruce and Teresa were sent back to China last year. Before going, they “tied the knot”. They plan on remaining in China for the next two to four years. But the most exciting part of each year will be coming back to Empire. The whole family agrees.

Posted by editor at 05:53 PM | Comments (0)

Tutoring New Orleans’ students after Katrina

By Joanne Bender
Sun contributor

One year after the Gulf Coast fell victim to the most destructive and obvious effect of Global Warming that has hit the United States to date, the Glen Arbor Sun brings you the story of another local resident who traveled to the Deep South to help.

Answering the call for academic assistance from Hurricane Katrina-ravaged New Orleans, 30 graduate and undergraduate students from Michigan State University, including Maria La Cross, 19, of Cedar, formed New Orleans Summer Project (NOSP) in June of this year and drove in vans from East Lansing to help. Faculty members accompanied them as well, led by director and organizer Dr. Joyce Grant who is a member of MSU’s music school faculty.

Maria graduated from Glen Lake High School in 2004 and is a junior at Michigan State. She is an Education major and plans to teach secondary English after graduation.

The tutors were assigned to a New Orleans school now called “MAX”, a combined institution of three uptown schools — St. Mary’s, St. Augustine and Xavier Preparatory, all of which have been out of operation since Katrina’s devastating hit on August 29 of last year. The principal is named Father Raphael.

The New Orleans students waiting for educational aid had been shifted to out-of-state schools or had not been in school at all for an entire school year. So the job of Maria and her co-workers was to teach a lot of material in a very short four-week time span.

Fortunately, the tutors from MSU were prepared and ready, dividing into six sub-groups and going right to work. “It was so sad to see the signs in the MAX school still in place for the 2005-2006 school year which read ‘Welcome Back’ and ‘We’re Going To Have a Good Year’,” she remembers.

“New Orleans looked like a war zone frozen in time.”

Maria’s tutoring assignment was with middle school children, and she assisted with two English classes and two Test Preparatory classes (for the SAT and ACT tests). She studied the material and was able to present her own lesson plans covering the established requirements.

Maria bonded with several of her students. Two of her favorites were Greg, a high school senior seeking a college music scholarship as he plays the tuba, and Daron, also a senior. Both boys were catching up on their studies in English III. They were unable to write a paper properly with an introduction, body and conclusion when Maria first met them. “They knew no mechanics of writing, but by the conclusion of the four-week class they both accomplished this,” she reports.

“Southern hospitality remains alive and well in New Orleans and we had some time to experience the culture there,” Maria adds. “‘Donna’s,’ a jazz club across from Louis Armstrong Park was one entertaining part of our trip.”

The group received a warm welcome from many Michigan State alumni during their stay, attending dinner and pool parties, another happy result of their tutoring trip. And they attended the inauguration of incumbent Mayor Ray Nagin and also saw Reverend Jesse Jackson.

While in New Orleans the group stayed in the St. John Birchman Orphanage, which is under the auspices of the Sisters of The Holy Family. The sisters live in FEMA trailers behind the building.

About her heart-warming experience Maria says, “I felt a loss when we left. We all enjoyed a real sense of belonging during our four weeks in New Orleans with the students. I wish I could have done more.”

She also hopes that when she visits again, the “piles of thrash, including hundreds of cars underneath will have been removed. These have been there for almost a year.”