People Who Most Influence Us

I know that I've pretty much just written stories about my family in this blog, but it is my story, so this one is more or less about me.

Reading was always a challenge for me when I was younger. I spent my beginning years in a Catholic grade school. The nuns felt I was being lazy and just didn't care to learn to read. This was not true. I would try and read out loud, but it just didn't go well for me. My mom would try and help me at home and she did help. As time went by, I learned to read to myself, but I really couldn't read out loud. As difficult as it was to learn to read, I loved it. I would read almost anything if it looked interesting. Reading was and is hard because this is how it looks to me most of the time, (unless I'm concentrating): “Pain suffering and are alwyas inevtiable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really men must, I think, hve great sadness on earth.”

― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

This is where the story for this blog begins. It was late summer before the beginning of my freshman year of high school. I was at my favorite place - the book store on Hwy 70W going out of Eagle River. The store keeper and I had become friendly over the summer and suggested I try a look section of books and pointed me towards classic literature where I found this book.

Fast forward to the first week of school, when I walked into the basement classroom in the "old” high school of freshman English being taught by Ms Kathleen Hnath. I walk by her desk and she gives me a copy of the textbook "English 2200". At that time Ms Hnath sees the book I'm reading and asks me; "Who asked you to read that book?" I told her no one, it just looked interesting to me so I bought it. She asked a few questions, “How far was I in the book? Who was Rodion Raskolnikov? What did he do for a living?” etc. I answered her and she liked my answers. Then she did something that totally surprised me. I was told that as was long as I was reading this book and understanding it, I didn't have to do the lessons in the textbook, because what I was doing was beyond what the book was teaching. Ms Hnath, was one of the first teachers, who encouraged me to think outside of the box. That not all things to be learned were in textbooks, and that my thoughts and abilities were equal to some students and better then some others, that I was smart. You see, up until this time I thought that because I didn't read out loud or didn’t do math as well as others, I wasn't as good or as smart as they were. After finishing "Crime and Punishment", I did have to go back to doing the same work as the rest of the students in my class. Ms Hnath, always asked me about what books I was reading and what I thought about them. While in her class I opened myself up to reading JRR Tolkien for the first time (I've read the trilogy several times since), Vonnegut, and Andre Norton to name just a few. I realize that Ms Hnath doesn't probably remember me, but I would like her to know how much she influenced me to feel better about myself and that she opened a door for me which lead to worlds within so many other books.

Up North

Some of my earliest memories of "UpNorth" come from my grandparent's  cottage up on  Little Muskellunge lake in Vilas county.  My grandparents Piekarski bought the cottage some time back in the 1940's or  early 1950's. When they first bought it, it was a little rough inside.  No paneling on the walls and that sort of thing.  It was a three season cottage.   I remember it being a little small,  2 bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, living area,and a porch with an old gas space heater for the heat on chilly or rainy days.

Grandpa and Grandma went up there a lot with their sons. Dad enjoyed it more then my uncle Gerry.  Mom and Dad even went up there once before they were married (chaperoned of course).

We spent a lot of Dad's vacations up here.  He and Mom would pack the car the day before and we go to bed and then they would wake us up early - and I mean early!  It seemed like the middle of the night.  I don't know if it was because dad wanted his time up north to start or if it was because we kids would sleep most of the way up there and Mom and Dad wouldn't be listening to us say "Are we there yet?"

Although small it was cozy.  Mom and dad would be in one room, my sister and I, because  we were the youngest got the second bedroom and my brothers would sleep on the couch in the living area and the porch. Mom would cook us breakfast inside, but dinner if it wasn't raining was always dad grilling something us, mostly fresh caught fish.

We would catch the fish in grandpa's wooden row boat with mercury outboard on it. The same row boat that he and dad went  fishing in.  As you can see dad and grandpa caught many fish on their trips.  In that boat, with four small kids, my dad would teach us how to fish.  I can't believe that he could bait our hooks, get all of us casting in different directions (so we wouldn't hook or snag each other), and still cast and fish for himself.

The lake had a sandy beach area and swimming was fun, but I remember that when we swam by the cottage, Mom would always have to check us over  for leeches - yuck!

Treadle Sewing Machine

This might seem like an unusual post, but I think of treadle sewing machines quite often.  The first reason is my Grandma Beck.   She had one. I think it was a singer, but I don't remember.   I also don't know when she got it.  I don't know if Grandpa give it to her or if she had it before they married. She may have, as she did go to Milwaukee's School for Women and graduated as a milliner and seamstress. Her sewing machine was one of her most treasured possessions.  She taught her daughter how to sew on this machine, she even tried to teach me to use it, but I was a pretty scrawny kid, I couldn't push the treadle to make it go.  Grandma could sew pretty much anything on her treadle.  Some of her own clothes, mending and a lot of my Barbie doll clothes.  She even "fixed" my Red Baby a few times so that I would have her so I could sleep.  When I would visit Grandma and I'd be off playing, I could hear the steady rhythm of her feet moving the treadle and the needle making wonderful things.  Sometimes I would sit on her bed and just watch her make her creations or mend a blouse.
Later on in life I got a job with Ashley Pecka at Shu-craft and learned how to repair shoes and other leather goods.  I learned a lot from Ashley.  Working as his apprentice was probably my favorite job.  He had two treadle machines, one treadle machinewas converted to electric, but the other was an old Singer treadle machine.  It was both ours favorite machine.  You had so much control on it, speed, and felt wonderful. It was comfortable, and when I used it in the shop I  always thought of grandma .  I used that machine to fix everything from shoes, purses, customs holsters, to saddles, I even restored a McClellan military saddle, that I used, and still have.                      (this was a Red Baby)

Mitchell Park Domes

courtesy of Alamy.com

I read a news story this week that really saddened me.  The Mitchell Park Domes in Milwaukee have closed indefinitely because of falling concrete.
This park holds so many memories for me, all good.  One memory goes to a song written by Joni Mitchell in 1970.
 "They took all the trees 
Put 'em in a tree museum * 
And they charged the people 
A dollar and a half just to see 'em ".  

The second is field trips.  When I attended grade school in Mequon, we would make a trip to the domes in the spring.  It was fun because we were out of school.
All of the other memories belong to  Grandma Beck and me.  For so many years, the weather didn't matter, when they lived on South 33rd Street, we would walk down to the domes and spent most of the day there.   It was most fun in the winter, when you could walk through the domes and forget that it was winter outside.  All three domes were special.  First Grandma would want to go through the "seasonal dome" and see what special display they would have out.  For Christmas the dome would be filled with thousands of poinsettia.  Then we go through the desert dome, see all the catcus. It was so dry in there.  I swore that I saw lizards there. Lastly we'd go to the tropical dome. It was like walking through a jungle,  Walking over the bridge and looking at the koi fish in their river. Looking at orchids hanging from trees. It was the first time I ever saw orchids and still love them to this day. 

Sometimes we'd stop in the gift shop, Grandma and I would pick out a catctus to take home.

It was just enjoyable to walk through this fantasy land with my Grandma.

Godparents

What are Godparents? 

The Godparents are generally composed of both a female and male member, not necessarily from the same couple. However only one Godparent is actually necessary. One of the Godparents often needs to be a practicing member of the faith into which the child is being baptized and they must be sufficiently well-connected to the family of the child to be able to exercise the responsibilities they undertake in the service. When an infant is baptized he/she can't answer the questions for him/herself, so someone needs to answer on his/her behalf.

Godparents may be asked to perform ritual functions during the ceremony, such as holding the child, praying over the child and to make promises for the child's religious growth. After the ceremony, the role of the Godparents is to look after the child's religious path.

Godparents (also called sponsors or proxies) were originally introduced into the baptism service for this reason.  In the history of the church godparents also promised to bring the child up in the Christian faith, and took responsibility for this.

This is one of the more common definitions of a godparent. I never really thought about my godparents as I grew up. Their names are Bernice and Harry Berth. They were there for my first communion, they always sent birthday cards and Christmas cards to me all during my childhood, (sadly I rarely wrote back) then when I became an adult I lost all contact with them. Mom and Dad would bring them up once and awhile telling me they asked about me. All I knew about them was that Harold K. Berth owned a lot of George Webb hamburger stands in the Milwaukee area and that he served with dad in Korea. Bert – Benice Berth was Harold's wife. After doing a little research I learned a little more about Harry. Sadly Harry passed away in 2008, a year after my mom. Harry was classmate of my parents at Messmer High; he was also a war buddy of my dad's. Harry was quite the man on campus acolyte, class officer etc. Because I don't know Bert's maiden name, I still don't know much about her. What I do know is that Bert is a very loyal friend to the end. Both she and Harry made it to my mom's funeral – only Bert to my dad's. Bert was late to my dad's because she got lost, this is when it hit me as to what a godparent is. It was important to Bert to see me, pay her respects to my dad, and give back a photo Harry had of dad and Bill Borman, right after they had been MIA behind enemy lines in Korea for 3 days. When Bert had caught up to us at the gravesite, it hit what a godparent and a friend is. I will never forget Harry or Bert. Bert is getting old now, I write her and send her cards on holidays as she did for me when I needed and didn't know it. I'm not sure if she gets them, but I will continue to do so as long as I can.

I had the opportunity to be a godparent once. I failed miserably. I was too young and immature. My best friend at the ime choose me chosen for all the wrong reasons. Unfortunityly I didn't really understand what was being asked of me. My friend thought this would be a good way to keep me and my boyfriend at the time togehter, because we were on the verge of breaking up. By the time I understood what I needed to do, I had lost all contact with my godson and his mother. I'd like to try and mend bridges, but I'm not even sure where they live. I was not there when my godson needed me most. I would have to say this is the one reget I have in my life.  

Mother's Day

This photo is of my uncle's Rich and Johnny, Grandma Beck and my Mom. On the back of the photo Grandma wrote:

“May 13^th 1933 Mother's grave and Lena's in the background part of the lot monument Cedarburg” My mom is on Grandma's lap.

This is how my Grandma spent some of her Mother's days after she lost her mother.

Mother's day used to have a different meaning for me. When I was much younger it meant finding something special for my mom and making her feel special. As I grew older it meant remembering to phone home and wishing her a happy day and catching up with her.

Now Mother's Day is mostly an empty day. What I mean by empty is that I have no one I can call or see in person anymore. Now I mostly spend part of the day thinking of the two women who meant the most to me in my life. Even though this might sound sad it isn't really. The thoughts I do have of them aren't sad ones. The thoughts always bring a smile to my face or even a laugh.

Of Grandma – a lot of the the time I'll think of one of our trips to the Milwaukee Museum or walking to the domes and one of the beautiful flower shows we saw there – Easter and Christmas are always breath taking.

Mom, I mostly just think of everyday things, like remembering being a young girl and watching her make sage dressing for the thanksgiving turkey, or her driving me and my siblings to the city pool for swimming lessons.

For those of you who have your Moms, remember now is the time to make memories for when you can't make anymore and you need a smile that feels like a hug.

Happy Birthday Dad

Happy birthday Dad.


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