Storm Clouds Gathering Chapter 11

GRANDPA JOHN'S CABIN

     Sometime in the late 1950's my dad bought a log cabin on the Flambeau River south of Park Falls.  It was his dream house where he would retire, though his ultimate dream was to move to the Canadian wilderness.  It was rustic with just a small wood burning unit in the middle of the open main room, a  pump for water and outhouse for plumbing.  There were two bedrooms with built in wooden double bunks. 

    Various family members would enjoy the cabin as a get away from Indianapolis.  I spent many adventurous, carefree summer days there throughout my adolescent years.  Once again the Tom Sawyer in me came to life as I ran through the woods with my siblings, picked wild berries, listened for

bears, swam in the mucky water of the Flambeau River, swatted mosquitos and deer flies as we ate hot dogs and beans cooked over an outdoor wood burning grill. 

(photos: 3 sisters inside cabin/sister Rosie and Mom outside by a side door/Rosie and Georgia by the river)

                            SUDDEN STORM 

     My two younger siblings, Nick and Betsy, and I were a mini-family in ourselves.  We were seldom living together but gravitated back and forth between Indianapolis and Park Falls.  Betsy attended Holy Cross high school with me 2 years.  Nick spent at least one winter at the cabin by himself and attended Park Falls high school 15 miles away. (This is remarkable since winter temperatures can plummet to 25 below zero with several feet of snow.)

(photos: Upper left Mom, Aunt Emma and Betsy about 7)

( Nick 9 and Georgia 10 with "Russian Pete", Uncle Joe and Pop)

(Nick and Betsy  with  nephew Buddy)

(Georgia in teen years)

    During my junior year of high school the three of us talked of spending the summer in Indianapolis together with the rest of our family.

     Sometime in early spring I was visiting Emma and Jack for the weekend.  During supper a conversation developed and I don't know who initially brought up the topic.   I remember announcing to Aunt Emma that the three of us wanted to go to Indianapolis for the summer.  At some point she revealed that she and Jack had bought an old stone tavern just south of town and presumed that I would be their help, even tending bar at times.  I was 17 years old, besides not having the least interest in tavern life.   

   When I held to we siblings going back home for the summer Aunt Emma flew into a tantrum.  She told me to get out, since I was a totally spoiled ungrateful brat after all she and  Uncle Jack had done for me.  While I was getting a jacket I heard her on the phone with my dad, complaining to him what an ungrateful brat I was and I couldn't stay there anymore.  I was on my way out the door while she was still raging on.   

    It was dark, but not cold.  I walked the mile to downtown, not knowing what to do.  No store was open and I wandered around a bit.  There was a public phone booth where I was able to make a "collect call" to my dad.  I was crying as I told him what he already knew, except the part about the 3 of us wanting to be home for the summer.  As he talked with me I was comforted but a bit skeptical when he said that I was facing my first major difficulty in life.  I remember thinking that I thought I had already encountered a few.    He told me some of my older brothers were at the cabin, but there was no phone there so no way to contact them.

    I walked back to Emma's neighborhood but didn't want to go into the house.  There was an old school building converted into a fishing pole factory a block away.  I huddled into a dark corner of it.  I had never felt totally abandoned as I did just then.  I sobbed a long time, asking  God for help.  When there were no more tears and my feelings were numb I walked back to Emma's.  I don't remember the sequence to events.  I don't think I went to the cabin.  I remember being back at Emma's and she hugging me.  I don't know what she or I said.  I do know that I

returned to school on Sunday and I never became a bar maid, except for one short occasion.  

   An interesting development came about several years later.  The old school building, turned St. Croix fish pole factory, was demolished.  In its place a small white wooden Baptist church was built.  To me it is a forever confirmation that our tears and heartaches are precious to the Lord and he will redeem them in wonderful ways.  Years later Louie and I moved into an old house a block diagonal from the church.  Daily I looked across the field to observe that little white wooden Baptist church and was reminded how God loves us.     

     Emma and Jack moved from the house in Park Falls and into the

Gruener Wald, the "Green Forest" tavern.  It didn't become my home, but did become a major part of my life for many years to come.  It was built by Uncle Jack's father.  My understanding is that it is constructed from the stones gathered while clearing land for farming.  It is still available to buy, if one is interested. 

            INNOCENCE AND PROTECTION

     I would routinely ride the Greyhound bus between Indianapolis and Park Falls.  I would have to transfer buses in Chicago.  The station was not in a secure, safe area.  I remember concrete buildings and alleys and a sparsely decorated open  waiting room.  

     On one occasion there must have been a long layover until the connecting bus arrived.  I remember a fellow coming over to me and starting a conversation.   To me he seemed an adult yet not old, so I suppose maybe in his 20's.  I had no sense of caution regarding him and I don't know what our conversation was about.  I do remember leaving with him and sitting under a bridge along a river.  We just talked, or rather I did most of the talking.  I was in the middle of reading a book titled, Mr. Blue.  I was excitedly explaining to him how I identified with Mr. Blue.  (Looking up the info on the story I discovered it is about a mysterious man who gives up a fortune to

the follow the example of St. Francis.)  I remember telling this man that I am a "Mr. Blue".  I don't knowhow long we talked, but at some point we returned to the station and I boarded the bus. 

     At the time I didn't think anything of the encounter but later in my adult years my mind would wander back to that experience and gulp at the thought of leaving the bus station in downtown Chicago with an unknown man.  Did God in his graciousness send an angel to watch over an idealistic, naïve high school girl? (I might still have the paperback book somewhere in my boxes.  Perhaps I should freshly read the story.)

     There was a second time in the same bus station that a man came up to me and offered to build me a beautiful house in Arizona.  I said no thanks to that one.  

                   TO THE NUNNERY

     Well, that is for chapter 12!