Mac . . . I did just that, awhile back at Swarthout Park on Brice Praire. Might've been a District 5 rondy, or a trapper ed class there . . any way, when things settled down I walked across the road to the house Fred Johnson built and we finished in 1966. The redwood house across from the point of the park. I was a sophomore in high school that year and we moved from a couple houses down from Blackdeer's to this one once we had it built. I was curious about what the inside looked like.
Knocked on the door, explained who I was and why I was there, and produced ID. I said upfront if they felt uncomfortable about it I'd understand. Actually they welcomed me in, they had a couple of questions.
There was this doorbell button in the kitchen that didn't make any sense to them. I said that's an easy one. Dad installed that and ran wire down to the far bedroom in the basement. He installed a buzzer in the ceiling so they wouldn't have to yell down the stairs to get us two boys up there when needed. We went downstairs but the previous owners had changed the ceiling and we couldn't access above the spot.
I explained how we hand dug the septic tank and drywell holes and laid piping out there with the old gauze and molten lead. Walked through the house and admired the changes. Shared stories of the neighbors we had. Walt and Ruth Hanson south of us, both in their 80s in 1966. They lived in that house when the dams were built and Walt made a map of the road that ran from there to French Island and could fish the ditches on either side of it once flooded. Was deeper there for the fish. Walt would also share stories of the POWs that were housed in the now Fish & Wildlife Center. Said those German boys would slip over the fence at night and date some of the local girls. Two he knew returned and married the gals after the war.
We walked down to the bank and I showed them where Mark and I shucked thousands of clams for bait on our trotlines. Said there's a pile of shells down there. The old oak tree was still there where we would nail northern pike heads with the jaws propped open. Wrens would make nests in 'em. Talked about the breakwater and how many cars would go through the ice where the currents met. Also talked of the islands that used to be straight out from Blackdeer's and how we would winter camp there. One time one of us brainiacs forgot the canopener and set the large can of beans on the fire. The trick was to watch the can and just as it started to bulge we should take it off the coals. We were too late and we had beans and shrapnel everywhere The islands are long gone, eroded away. The hike out to Red Oak Ridge in the dead of winter across the ice. Dad was scoutmaster of troop 21 at the time. His idea. Thought for sure we were going to freeze to death . . .
The neightbors to the north of us I shared and talked about their boats and who did what.
The 60s on Brice Prairie were magical times. Lake Onalaska was in its prime, the fishing was out of this world, and duck hunters for the most part were considerate of one another. Talked about Arnie Haugen and how he ran 400 hooks a day on 4 lines all out of this handbuilt rowboat. Loaded his catch in the old truck and drove to Epstein's fish market in LaCrosse, same place Mark and I sold our catch. Catfish 27 cents a pound on the hoof, buillheads 8 cents, carp 2 cents and buffalo a nickel.
Showed them where we had the family freezer and how Mom let me wrap muskrats up in newspaper before I learned how to skin and point them to the back wall stacked like cordwood. She said she never wanted to look them in the eye when using the freezer.
Talked of the hobos that would camp up by Lytle's and we knew when the gypsies were also camped 'cause all the toilet paper in the outhouses in the park would be gone. Talked of the '65 flood when we lived just upstream by Blackdeer's and the critters that came out of the bottoms that year.
Talked about Alton White who built Cozy Corner Cottages and what an inventor he was. Told 'em about his daughter I dated and how she lost her life in Africa while in the Peace Corps.
Spent an hour there easily. Was good for me to see and feel the old house I called home for just a short while in my life. A very magical time in my life.
I hope it was good for them also. It appeared to be so.
No seriously, I bought the neighboring farm and let two ladies that grew up there take a tour. I would like to tour my Grandparents old farm. Those that stop and ask are never the problem.
