Although I had been whisked away from the comfortable surroundings of home for a brief weekend getaway at Woodland Altars during the Spring of 1972, my first big vacation didn’t come until mid-Summer later that year. My parents and I traveled along with Bill and Dottie and their kids to a tiny cottage owned by Dottie’s parents located on Manistique Lake in Curtis, Michigan. From July 29 – August 4, we spent the week boating, fishing, picnicking, and from what I understand…freezing.
Mom recalls that she had assumed that it would be nice and hot like it was in good ol’ Ohio so she packed very little in the way of warm clothes. Unfortunately, when they arrived they found that it was quite chilly on the lake so they had to go out and find some cheap warm clothes to wear for the rest of the week. This was strike one.
The little cottage on the lake
Dottie and Mom prepare the cabin for habitation
Me with the last traces of my black eye
A side view of the pier
Mom was freezing
Dad actually had the good sense to get into some of these photos instead of just snapping them
She also remembers that since I was a first child and only ten months old, she was desperately trying to keep me on a strict eating and sleeping schedule. This wasn’t so easy with three other adults and two kids sharing the same little cottage. So it was quite stressful for her to be my caregiver for the week, but have no control over what was going on. That was strike two.
Robby is ready to take on the open seas
Robby and Lora crouching like jackrabbits waiting for their prey
The craft seems seaworthy, but it’s not very comfortable
Mom takes me, Lora, and Robby in the boat. Good thing it was still tied to the dock as we had no lifejackets.
And I suppose strike three which clinched this vacation – my very first – as her version of the week from hell was that because I was so far off schedule, I didn’t want to sleep at night, which meant that she would be up until all hours trying to keep my quiet so I didn’t wake everyone else in the cabin up.
Other than that, everything seemed to go well – unless you count seeing some live bears when we ventured into Saulte Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada for a nice picnic. But I wasn’t eaten, so you can hardly count that. Significantly, this foray across the border was my first time outside of the United States…and my last time until 1996, two dozen years later, at which time our cruise ship took us into Cozumel, Mexico.
Dad took lots of nice slides of both scenery and several of the people on the trip. He also took about ten minutes worth of Super 8mm footage which revealed a few other things we did – like Bill and Dottie passing ball around the yard, me inside a kiddie swing, our group hanging out at the U.S. Army Locks in Saulte Ste. Marie, walking around Mackinac Island, and observing the majesty of the Upper Falls at Lake Tahquamenon.
Mom and me
Dad and me and a horde of ducks
While strolling by the lake one day…
Now this is a real boat…
Canadian picnic
Proof positive that I was in Canada once – the resting place of Colonel John Prince in Saulte Ste. Marie – and the beginning of my obsession with famous graves
Dad took lots of lovely photos – like this one that hung in our house for many years
Mom and me (or possibly a small dog) silhouetted against the lake at dusk
1972 will continue as walking becomes the next big thing in my life…
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