I called my dad today and had him re-tell his rowboat story that I mentioned in this post. I think it was built up in my head a little. He used to tell it to us when we were kids, and we found it very exciting. It’s not quite as good as I remember (sorry, dad!) but still a fun memory. This was recorded and edited only slightly for flow.
Dad: So…it was, I’m going to say, like a Saturday night. Friday night, Saturday night…evening-ish… and my cousins- my cousins had this little cabin. We couldn’t afford it, we were at this cheap motel down the road. And each cabin came with its own rowboat. There were five cottages in a row, each one with its own boat, and my cousin’s cottage was called…can you guess?
Me: No, I don’t remember.
Dad: It was called Bluebell!
This is what the story was known as when I was a kid, the Bluebell story or the Rowboat story. Young D.M. Zolt thought the boat was called Bluebell, for some reason.
Dad: This was off of Glen lake, near Traverse City. There was Big Glen and Little Glen, we were on Little Glen Lake. And…that evening, that rowboat… I was, I don’t want to say the strongest, but I didn’t complain, I liked rowing a boat…it was with my cousin Bob, I think it was Patty, my brother and I. I don’t think Lynn came (she was sort of peculiar, but I don’t think Lynn was there.)
So going down to the lake, there was this park on the lake shore, called Settlers Park, and it’s maybe…quarter mile. So we got in the boat, and we rowed out there. It’s getting to be evening, and we went to Settlers park. It’s the first time I’d actually been there. There wasn’t much really to do, just a place to park your car and picnic.
Me: How old were you?
Dad: Ooooh…eight? Nine? We were real small kids, but I was strong enough to row a boat. Not real fast, mind you. I knew how to swim. Not real good.
So okay, it’s getting dark, we all get back in the boat, and rowing the boat-especially when you’re that young in age- it’s slow. So I remember, we’re going back, going back…and then the fog hits. And it’s not like Lake Michigan, where there’s waves, just like one huge pond. So we’re paddling in the fog…where’s the shore? Where’s the cabin? [Mumbles] I don’t know… We had no idea which direction we were going in, it was that foggy! And so we were like, uh oh… [Laughs.] This sounded like a good idea at first, but it wasn’t real good…
And so, eventually, it was my father and Uncle Gene were on the shore yelling for us. And by the sound of their voice, we figured out where the shore was and what direction. We had absolutely no clue. We were in the fog, we could be going further out in the lake. I remember us getting back. We didn’t get yelled at that much, really… it was sort of by accident, we weren’t, you know, expert navigators…but I remember us going to Settlers Park, and we made it back. But when you’re that young, and you’re in this lake…it was a big rowboat. You have four small kids in it, reasonably small kids, it seemed like a big yacht, you know, but it’s a small boat. Like I said, I couldn’t row really fast, I was a kid.
Me: I thought you told me you stole the rowboat.
Dad: No! We told them we were going to Settlers Park, and they said okay.
Me: Really? I could have sworn you told me when I was younger that you snuck out.
Dad: Well…they sort of discouraged us. You know how that goes. “We’re going to Settler’s Park!” “Well, it’s getting awfully late…I don’t think you should do that.” But somehow…I think my dad was eager to say ‘go!’ and my Uncle Gene was really against it. Somehow, we got Bobby and Pat to come, so that was good.
We got way off topic from there, but dad has done some Google Maps exploring since we talked. He sent a link to the ice cream store located near the cottage from this story, and this quote:
“This is the General Store that my cousin Patty and I walked to from the cottage. My dad gave me a buck or two and we ordered chocolate shakes. They gave you the whole metal container that they used to make your shake, it was a shake and a half. They had the old ice cream counter with the round stools. It was across this street that there was an old abandoned house. This is where the locals claimed a ghost resided there. Pat was spooked walking across the street from it. Ahh… the good old days of imagination.”
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