by David Odziana, ThumbPrint News Staff Writer and Field Reporter
This article on Sleder’s Tavern was originally published in the January 2017 issue of the ThumbPrint News, a wonderful publication filled with history, insight, life-hacks and just plain fun. We are indebted to theeditors of ThumbPrint News and author David Odziana. Read and subscribe at their website: http://www.thumbprintnews.com/
Image provided by David Odziana.
For many residents of Michigan, a vacation often consists of driving a few hours north until they reach one of the many popular tourist destinations throughout the state.
Traverse City is one of the more popular vacation spots in the Lower Peninsula, enticing visitors with an array of year-round activities. The area once known as Slabtown and Little Bohemia has an extensive history, which is a big part of the beloved city’s charm.
Interior of Sleder’s, ca. 1885, with the famed spittoons resting on the floor. Image courtesy of the Bensley Collection, Traverse Area District Library Local History Collection.
Sleder’s Tavern is one of the most established buildings in the area with the prestige of being one of the oldest restaurants in the state. A Bohemian wheelwright named Vencel Sleder came to the area in the second half of the 1800s, and soon made the decision to construct a local tavern where residents could visit with friends over a home cooked meal after a long day at work. Since most able hands were busy working in the mills or on their land, only Sundays were available to work on the restaurant. This caused construction to complete the building to drag on for three years. The building was manufactured using rejected wooden slabs from the local sawmill; Sleder’s Tavern was finally finished in 1882.
Vencel conducted his business with the mentality that goodwill is good business, later becoming the company’s slogan that allowed the bar to survive many dark economic times. The second generation of the Sleder family to work at the tavern was Polly Sleder, who was well known for offering her household medical advice with each $1.50 case of beer. It was also said she gave patrons a free beer and a double shot of liquor for each case of beer purchased. Prior to inheriting the tavern, Louie Sleder’s first job at the bar was to clean out the 21 spittoons throughout the restaurant, receiving 25 cents for each one. By 1920, Sleder’s Tavern was faced with a great deal of uncertainty, as everyday life began changing drastically during this time.
Results of a Grand Traverse Prohibition-era raid with officers and sheriff’s deputies. G.T. County Sheriff David R. Campbell at the far left. Image not included in Ordizana’s original article, but Your Editors love this photo, courtesy of the Traverse Area District Library Local History Collection.
When Prohibition was enacted in Michigan, Sleder’s Tavern was already established for nearly 40 years, which gave the company a better chance of surviving the state’s dry period that lasted more than 15 years. Sleder’s secret for thriving during the country’s ban on alcohol was his special root beer, which was well known during the time. The mixture, which was actually a blend of rye and bourbon, was served in tea cups free of charge to all visiting law enforcement – this allowed the family business to flourish when a majority of taverns were forced to close their doors. Throughout the 1920s, local law enforcement mainly focused on out-of-town bootleggers who were bringing alcohol into the area. This continued until the 1930s, when state police decided to enforce the laws local police were ignoring. Sleder’s Tavern was quickly raided, and police discovered two stills, 231 pints of beer, 50 gallons of mash used to brew alcohol and six quarts of moonshine. Due to his clean record, Louie was only charged with possession, which resulted in a $600 fine, instead of the much stiffer punishment that came with a bootlegging charge. This raid was most likely a result of pressure from citizens, who collected 450 signatures to get local police to “exercise a higher regard for the moral protection of the youths of our city and a more thorough enforcement in dealing with violators of city ordinances, federal and state law.” Despite the fact that the petition didn’t mention alcohol or prohibition, it was assumed the paperwork was referring to the lack of enforcement on alcohol in the city.
Interior of Sleder’s Tavern today. Image contributed by Brooks Vanderbush.
During the 1930s, the building underwent a few structural changes. Prior to this time, men and women were not allowed to frequent the same area of the bar. Instead, the men drank in the main bar, while the women had their own section in the back, which they would enter through a separate door. After Louie opened up the two rooms to make one large bar and renovated the second story ballroom into living space, many of the regulars who frequented Sleder’s were not happy about having women in the same area of the bar.
The original, 21-foot mahogany bar of Sleder’s Tavern, as it looks today. Image contributed by Brooks Vanderbush.
Although some things have changed in the building throughout its 134 years of business, many original features still remain. Time-appropriate stamped tin adorns the 12-foot-tall ceilings, original light fixtures still hang on the walls and much of the historic collectibles still decorate the walls, but one feature tends to grab the attention of thirsty patrons more than anything else. The original 21-foot mahogany bar, equipped with an old brass foot rail and embellished with cherry wood on the sides, has remained in the same spot since 1882.
Exterior of Sleder’s Tavern today. Image contributed by Brooks Vanderbush.
Louie Sleder was the last family member to own the tavern before it was sold. After changing hands a few times, Sylvia and Bob Classens purchased the restaurant in 1975. The couple’s main goal was to ensure the historical aspect remained. Renovations they accomplished were uncovering the original hardwood floors, redoing the paneling on the walls and constructing a Victorian style porch on the side of the building. In 1992, Brian and Deb Cairns purchased the restaurant from the Classens, and shortly after, the couple tied the knot on the recently constructed porch. When the Cairns took over, they changed as little as possible – all five of the Classens’ children, as well as many of the previous employees, remained employed at Sleder’s after the tavern got new owners. Today, Michigan’s oldest continuously running restaurant sits in the same spot at 717 Randolph Street in Traverse City. While much has changed throughout the city from the time it was known as Little Bohemia or Slabtown, Sleder’s Tavern stands as proof that some things can truly stand the test of time.
By Deborah S. Kohn, Life-long friend of Maud’s and historian of Mesick, Michigan
Transcribed and edited by Richard Fidler
Maud Miller Hoffmaster’s epitaph reads, “She toiled for beauty.” Her personal motto was this: “Wherever you go in this world, may that place be more beautiful because you have been there.”The two statements summarize the life of a remarkable person.
Maud with a snowscape, from the “Chicago Sunday Tribune” article, North Woods Artist, by Norma Lee Browning, February 3, 1952.
In Manistee, Michigan, on December 29th, 1883, Maud was born to William H. and Sarah Adelaide (Helfreick) Miller. The eldest of five children, she took care of her brothers and sisters, her ill grandmother, and, later, her father.This responsibility had a profound effect on her future.She first studied music and wanted to be a musician, but, in the end, was forced to express herself in a quieter way, sitting beside her family members, sketching or painting scenes around her home.
Maud attended school on Old Mission Peninsula and in Traverse City.She was able to attend the Chicago Art School for six weeks after she was able to sell some of her paintings.Aside from that meager formal training, she was self-taught.
Maud’s father was a “doctor,” and her mother practiced nursing.In those days, her father may not have been a trained in medicine, but practiced as someone who could help injured or sick people.Her mother had to maintain the home after her husband became ill and bedridden.There were five children: Maud A., Harry E., Mabel E.(Palmer), William J. (Bill).(I am not sure about the fifth child)Many of Maud’s early experiences influenced her later paintings, especially “The Country Doctor,” a world-famous (and her best-known) painting.She had been offered a lot of money for it–and did sell it once, but bought it back and never let it go again.
From the 1900 census records, Maud was a laborer in a basket factory before she was married.The factory, Wells-Higman, was located near where the family lived on East Eighth Street.It was one of the largest manufacturing establishments in the city at that time, manufacturing “Climax” grape and peach baskets, bushel baskets, berry crates, and veneer.
The brother of Mrs. Henry Ford is said to have bought her first painting for one dollar.It was a small watercolor of a pine tree along Grand Traverse Bay.
At the age of 18, she married Havillah Clive Hoffmaster on May 25, 1904.He was a clerk and manager-buyer for the home furnishings department of Hannah and Lay for 25 years.
Havillah’s parents were Uriah and Mary E. Hoffmaster.Uriah served in the Grand Army of the Republic as a Union soldier in the Civil War.He enlisted in Company 1, Eleventh Cavalry on Nov. 9, 1863 at Kalamazoo for three years at the age of 15, then mustered on Nov. 24, 1863.Uriah then transferred to Company A, Eighth Cavalry on July 20, 1865.On Sept. 22, 1865 he was mustered out at Nashville, Tennessee.He returned to Traverse City.
Havillah’s parents are buried in the same lot as Maud and Havillah in Oakwood Cemetery, Traverse City.A GAR (Grand Army of the Republic) stone is on the lot, indicating a Civil War veteran soldier is buried there.
One of Havillah’s first gifts to Maud was a set of oil paints, a present she put to good use.Her ability to portray realistic landscapes, trees, snowstorms, and nature was recognized right away.You could stand in front of any one of her paintings and feel like you were right there as part of the scene.She was able to tell a story through her creations also.
Maud, Villah, and their dog Muffetti, near their iconic home on Aghosa Trail.
Together, they built a rustic home (cottage, as they called it), a unique building in that the outer surface was made up of stones found in the area.She designed the house so that she could have her gallery connected to the main living area.You can’t help but remember the stones they assembled because of their large size.
In her design for the house she had two fireplaces, also constructed from the stones, one in the living area and the other in the gallery.For many years this was the only source of heat for the gallery.The door to the gallery was blue with a latch that she made.There were note cards of this door with a poem by Estelle C. Koch inside.“The Country Doctor,” which was painted in 1922, had a very special place in the gallery.She would recite a description [of it] that Beth Parker told over the radio on her program called the Beth Parker Hour.
Her home was in large part a gallery of her art.Most of her paintings were done at an easel that was located so she could look out over the Grand Traverse Bay.Many who knew her recognize this view in her paintings.It is said she did over 400 large canvases and countless smaller ones.
There was also an outside fireplace built of stones where there were many picnics and neighborhood gatherings.This was on the southeast side of their property.This is where the “litterbug crew” of young boys had their pancake suppers.It was a beautiful natural setting to be out among the tall pine trees and wildflowers.
Picture postcard from the 1940s of the Ahgosa Golf Course, operated by Havillah.
Havillah left working for Hannah and Lay after 25 years, eventually opening a golf course across the street from where they lived off Munson Avenue and near Airport Access in 1931.He owned it until he sold the land and retired in 1952.Many people from this area have memories of golfing at Ahgosa, the name he gave to the course.After the land was sold, the Osteopathic Hospital was built upon the fairways, having moved out of what is now the Elks Club on Grand View Parkway.No longer the Osteopathic Hospital, the building is now known as the Munson Community Health Center.
Georges Bal, an art critic for the New York Herald described Maud’s exhibit in Paris, France, presented at the Bernheim Jeune Galleries in his article dated November 7, 1928.Bal placed her among the greatest landscape painters of the day, emphasizing her poetic touch, calling her works “picture-poems” of Michigan.Even the French art critics were impressed with her ability to capture the landscape with such color and perfect drawing.So important that show was to her, she traveled to Paris for the opening.The next year, another prominent exhibition of her paintings took place in New York City at the Helen Hackett Gallery from February 22, 1929, to March 2, 1929.
Maud was active in the American League of Professional Artists; several garden clubs including the Board of the State Federation of Garden Clubs and the Friendly Garden Club in Traverse City; the Traverse City Women’s Club (past president and life member); and was Chairman of Fine Arts, a position that led to her work with Joseph Maddy at Interlochen.She helped him raise money for his music camp, then organized the Fine Arts department at the National Music Camp.
She was supervisor for 14 years in that department—most of the time serving in an unpaid position.Maud helped design and build the Fine Arts building as a memorial to the Federation Golden Jubilee, and even collected some of the large stones that were used in the building.She was not merely interested in supervising or delegating, but was involved in the actual construction.She even carried stones to help the builders.
Picture postcard of Maud’s oil painting, “May Morning,” from the Traverse Area District Library image collection.
Artists from all over the world traveled to her Traverse City, Michigan home for instructions on how to paint landscapes, trees, and especially blizzard snowstorms/scenes.People would see her paintings or hear about her, and want to meet her.Maud also traveled all over the United States for one-man or juried shows to places like New York City, Chicago, Detroit, Dallas, Pasadena, Laguna Beach, Carmel, Pebble Beach, Sacramento, Crocker Memorial Museum, Flint, and most major art centers.People who had seen her work in Paris, France, came.She did all of her exhibitions by invitations only.In her presentations across the United States she correlated her painting with music, an art very important to her.It helped her many times to get in the “mood” to paint, especially if she had an interruption while she was painting.
Getting the paintings ready for a show was a joint effort for Maud and Havillah.Sometimes pictures needed frames, bought or made by Havillah.Invariably, they had to be finished so that they would accent the picture in the right way.The size, color, and design had to be just right for each picture to make it emphasize what it was saying to viewers coming to the show.Pictures then had to be packed and gotten ready for the show, or to be sent to the new owner.
Maud specialized in landscapes and oil, but did almost every kind of art such as block prints, pastels, and etchings.She reproduced many of her artworks on postcards, stationery, bridge tallies, prints, and other useful articles.Reprints of “The Country Doctor” hung in many doctors’ and medical offices across the United States and may still be there.
During one of the many trips to Monterey, California, Maud got some editorial help with her “litterbug” idea by suggesting that gas stations hand out litterbags as a way to advertise.It captured the public’s imagination when the Grand Rapids Press and the Record-Eagle’s Jay Smith wrote about it in Michigan.The State and National Federations of Garden Clubs responded, and the fight against “litterbugs” was well on its way.
Picture postcard of Maud and the litterbug crew. Maud coined the term “litterbug,” which has since come in to national use.
Maud even worked with a group of local neighborhood boys who became her anti-litterbug crew.They had a picture taken which was printed on a postcard, selling them or giving them away to remind people not to litter.These boys were Kim Tinker, David Stradinger, Randy Oliver, Tom Keith, Bruce Hume, Paul Wardwell, Earl Hamilton, and Dick Cobb.All of these boys lived within a two-and-one-half block area near her home on Ahgosa.They picked up along the beach and everywhere they could, then would go back to the Hoffmaster home where she would fix pancakes for supper.Some of these “boys” still live in the Traverse City area.This experience had a life-long effect on them.
On May 25, 1954, Maud and Havillah celebrated their golden wedding anniversary with an open house at their home.
Many people, local as well as from distant places, took art lessons from her.She loved giving art lessons to youth, but people of all ages learned under her keen eye and tutelage.She was always willing to share her talents and develop those of others.
In 1952, Maud wrote The Path of Gold, a novel dedicated to the membership of Beta Sigma Phi, of which she was a charter member.This is the story of the struggle for decency and honesty against evil.Jane Hamilton is the main character, a woman who just happens to be a painter.It is a story of love, emotions, and intrigue about the Michigan area.
Nee-Na, The Wild Flowers Good Fairy is a children’s book, but appealed to a wider audience than just children as many adults loved it.The stories and illustrations teach nature lore that was very dear to Maud like respecting the birds and wildflowers of the woods and understanding their enemies.She used the pen and brush to create the illustrations in the story.
Mrs. Godfrey Lundberg was a very good friend of Mrs. Hoffmaster.She was an art critic for the Chicago Tribune from1917 to 1957.Mrs. Lundberg’s pen name was Eleanor Jewett.During the 1930’s Maud illustrated Eleanor’s poems for the Chicago Tribune.They then decided to put some of Eleanor’s poems in a book with Maud doing the illustrations for each one of them.The book was titled Make Believe.The subjects of these poems range from the seasons in the Midwest to personal events in the life of a child.Most of these poems were inspired by her own children over the years.
“Jewels from the Garden,” one example of a notecard created from one of Maud’s print blocks.
Maud was also a business woman in that she created notecards from her block prints, had postcards of many of her pictures, and sold paintings and her books as long as they were available.
Many honors and recognitions were given her.She is listed in Who’s Who in American Art, and Who’s Who in the Midwest, her name appearing in the editions encompassing her life as a painter.The Mark Twain Society gave her an honorary membership in 1952.The Michigan Indians adopted her and named her “Princess Ahgo-sah.”The Michigan Federation of Sheriffs Association recognized her.In fact, a wife of a Clare County (Harrison) sheriff started a drive to get the funds to buy her pine tree painting and place it in the state capitol.The Michigan Sheriffs had a convention here in Traverse City in 1963.One of the tours was of the Hoffmaster Gallery.This had been one of Maud’s dreams but she did not want to just give the painting so felt she had to ask a modest sum (though its value was about ten thousand dollars).The painting was taken on a state tour to try to raise the funds after the Michigan legislature failed to come up with the modest funds.It remained in the Hoffmaster studio after this tour.
Maud’s paintings can be found all over the United States–and even the world since she sold several when her paintings were in Paris, France.Her shows helped sell paintings and this, in turn, would bring people from all over to her gallery and home.Her gallery was always open to the public.Many groups would arrange a tour of her studio whenever they met in Traverse City, still another way she met people.
She would give lectures across the United States.With her husband, she traveled to California several times to visit family but also to do shows.She did several paintings of the Carmel, California area, as they wintered here until they were not able to do as much traveling because of their age and health.Her brother and sister as well as nieces and nephews lived in California, so she would visit them there.
Few of us think that no one person can accomplish the impossible things that will make the world a better place for everyone, but Maud Miller Hoffmaster was always working at doing this.When she saw a need, she was there doing whatever was needed—whether it was constructing a building or an art program, cleaning up a community, fundraising, selecting a cherry queen, teaching about the environment and preserving the beauty of nature, entertaining hundreds of groups at her home and studio, or starting the expression “litterbug” that became a national slogan.
Her talents were not just in painting.If not standing at her easel, she could be found writing; reading about politics, current events, world and national events; tatting, knitting, crocheting; writing letters to voice her opinion on any topic; or writing about her family history.She never was idle in thought or deed until she fell and was hospitalized months before she passed away.
Havillah Hoffmaster was fatally hurt when a car hit him on Munson Avenue near his home.He was chipping ice from the gutter on the road and the driver did not see him.He died a short time later at Munson Hospital of injuries on January 8, 1964.His funeral was held at the Reynolds Funeral Home on Sixth Street on Saturday, January 11, 1964.Dr. Kenneth Hance of East Lansing and Dr. Howard Towne officiated.Burial was in the family lot at Oakwood Cemetery in Traverse City.
A committee of local friends was formed to try to plan a lasting gallery of her home and paintings as a landmark to Traverse City.Dr. Glenn Loomis, Lt. Governor William Milliken, Representative Arnell Engstrom, along with some of her extended family members hoped to accomplish this.After her death, however, the fundraising effort failed, so her estate eventually went to a nephew, Julian Hoffmaster, her brother William, and her sister Mabel.
Maud passed away October 2, 1969, at the Grand Traverse Medical Care Facility.She had fallen in her home in March and had been in failing health ever since the fall.Her funeral was held on Sunday, October 5, 1969, at the Reynolds Funeral Home on Sixth Street with Dr. Kenneth Hance of East Lansing officiating.Dr. Hance was a close friend of the Hoffmasters.Marjorie Exo was the organist and Melvin Larimer was the soloist for the service.The burial was in the family lot at Oakwood Cemetery in Traverse City.
You can still find a part of her here in Traverse City as many of her paintings hang in homes and businesses.Anyone who knew her has memories of her and her tireless efforts to improve and maintain the natural beauty of the Grand Traverse area.
Sources
BOOKS
Who’s Who of American Women, third edition (1964-65); Chicago, IL, A. N. Marquis Publications Co; p. 476
Artists in Michigan, 1900-1976, A Biographical Dictionary, Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press, 1989, p. 137
Browning, Norma Lee, Joe Maddy of Interlochen, Chicago, IL, Henry Regnery Co, 1963, p.273
Hoffmaster, Maud Miller, Nee-Nah, The Wild Flower’s Good Fairy, New York, The William-Frederick Press, 1949
Hoffmaster, Maud Miller, The Path of Gold, New York: Exposition Press, 1952
Jewett, Eleanor, Make Believe “Milkweed Babies and other Poems,” with illustrations by Maud Miller Hoffmaster, Traverse City, MI: Myers Printing Service, 1962
Record of Service of Michigan Volunteers in the Civil War, 1861-65; published by authority of the Senate and House of Representatives of the Michigan Legislature, p. 50
Who’s Who in American Art
Who’s Who in the Midwest
OTHER
Exhibition of Paintings by Maud Miller Hoffmaster, New York City, Helen Hackett Gallery, Feb. 22, 1929 to Mar. 2, 1929
Exposition Maud Miller Hoffmaster, Paysages du Michigan, Galeries Bernheim-Jeune, 83 Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, Paris, Du5 au16 Novembree, 1928
Funeral Program by Kenneth Hance on Oct. 5, 1969
Grand Traverse County Probate Records
Oakwood Cemetery Records
1900 Census of Grand Traverse County
1900 City Directory for Traverse City
Traverse Area District Library
NEWSPAPER ARTICLES
Traverse City Record-Eagle
July 17, 1948, p. 7 Dec. 6, 1949, p. 1 Jul. 18, 1952 Sept. 10, 1959, p. 5 July 8, 1961 June 8, 1962 Jan. 9, 1964, p. 1 Jul. 2, 1964, p. 4 Feb. 20, 1965, p. 7 May 5, 2966, p. 8 Oct. 3, 1969, p. 8 Oct. 4, 1969, p. 11 Oct. 10, 1969, p. 4 Dec. 12, 1974 April 22, 1991
Grand Traverse Herald
Feb. 25, 1897 Mar. 4, 1897, p. 6
The Flint Journal
Oct. 29, 1939
Grand Rapids Press
April 21, 1953 May 27, 1962 March 21, 1965 Oct. 6, 1969
by Joshua G. Cohen, Michael A. Kost, Bradford S. Slaughter, and Dennis A. Albert, published by The Michigan State University Press, 2015
By Richard Fidler
Naturalists get excited whenever a new book appears that waters their interests: For me, this volume does exactly that—it fills a gap in knowledge I have long wanted filled, the natural communities of Michigan.A natural community, according to this field guide, is defined as “a natural assemblage of interacting plants, animals, and other organisms that repeatedly occurs under the same environmental conditions across the landscape and is predominantly structured by natural processes rather than modern anthropogenic disturbances.”Examples help to clarify the academic language: a Marsh describes a group of natural communities; a Dry Northern Michigan Forest is commonly found where we live, wherever soils are dry and well-drained; Open Dunes, commonly found along the lakeshore, is a community that features few tall woody plants.I have always been sloppy in applying terms to natural communities, often loosely referring to “habitats” or “ecosystems.”Now I know better.
It is important to note that the communities described in the book do not include agricultural land, whether in cultivation or abandoned relatively recently.It does not include any land that has been disturbed by humans—a roadside ditch cannot be classified as a sort of marsh or swamp.Because so much land has been cultivated and developed during the period of white settlement over the past two centuries, many natural communities are imperiled, their existence threatened by planned interventions that do not always respect natural places.Conveniently, this field guide indicates which communities are most endangered.
Each natural community is described by its soils and geology, its hydrology (how water moves), its distribution, and by the plants that live there.A general map of Michigan indicates where they are to be found—and, even better, specific locations are given to those who would care to pay visits.Now, with the book informing where to go, I must get to Drummond Island to see the alvar natural community, the community that occupies cracks on bare limestone rock. Existing in only a few places on Earth, it might be compared to an endangered community in remote Africa.Lacking the wherewithal to get to that place, my safari will begin a hundred and forty miles from here, on Drummond.Exotic travels can begin close to home!
Photograph from the “Field Guide,” by Joshua G. Cohen.
The Field Guide, it must be said, will be most useful to naturalists with a background in plant identification and with a knowledge of terms that relate to natural communities.Commendably, it does have a glossary with terms defined gracefully in a language all can understand.Still, it would be a good idea for explorers to latch onto a naturalist for a guide.I do that whenever I can, even though I am someone frequently latched onto.
Keeping in mind Traverse City is a thoroughly disturbed landscape, still, let us look about for remnants of its natural past.In fact, it is comprised of several recognized communities, among them, the Mesic Northern Forest (found around the hills near the Commons), the Dry Northern Forest (most of the city proper), the Rich Conifer Swamp (mostly around Kids Creek); and the Sand and Gravel Beach (by the Bay shore).
Great beech trees of the Mesic Northern Forest grow on the hilly moraines above the former State Hospital grounds, on Madison street, and at Hickory Hills.They predate white settlement by many years, but are now doomed by Beech Scale disease, an affliction that should destroy them within the next ten years.Ashton Park on the West side of town presents a similar array of massive hardwoods.
Traverse City was mostly Dry Northern Forest, but the bulk of its giant white and red pines were cut down in the nineteenth century.However, large white oaks survived the onslaught of loggers’ axes and survive in neighborhoods to this day.
The street names Cedar and Spruce point to the trees that lived along Kids Creek (formerly called Mill Creek and Asylum Creek).The land survey of 1851 tells us exactly what kinds of trees lived here at that time: white cedar and white spruce were often recorded.The Rich Conifer Swamp that occupied this place disappeared long ago, replaced by occasional black willows and invasive plants of many kinds.
Finally, along the Bay front, dune grasses persist on the grounds of the Hagerty Center, a gift provided by landscapers who pay attention to natural plant communities.Though much degraded from former times, natural communities like the Sand and Gravel Beach can still be found within the City limits.
A Field Guide to the Natural Communities of Michigan is a treasury of information for all who love Nature.It is profusely illustrated with color photographs of 77 communities, often featuring aerial photographs and pictures of indicator plant species.The Traverse Area District Library purchased a volume using funds dedicated to the remembrance of Bob Rudd, local teacher and naturalist.Readers may find that they need to own a copy as they explore the glorious wilderness around us.
This bar is the only remaining building of the largest employer in Traverse City in 1917. What is the name of that company?
Congratulations to reader Larry, for his correct answer!: “That is currently ‘Side Traxx’, located at south end of Franklin street. I believe the company was ‘Oval Wood Dish Factory’ which left Traverse City in 1917.”
A causal exploration of the grounds by Your Editors yielded little evidence of the building’s former use. Should you visit, take a look for yourself! A number of interesting features, including frames of windows visible on the outside but not on the inside, and layers of wood paneling, gives us much to speculate on.
“The Dennos Museum Center – 25 Years and Growing,” talk delivered by Eugene Jenneman to the OMPHS
The Old Mission Peninsula Historical Society will meet at 7:00 p.m., February 2, 2017, at the Old Mission Township Hall, 13235 Center Road, Traverse City.
A short business meeting will begin at 7:00 p.m., followed by a
presentation by Dennos Museum Executive Director, Eugene Jenneman, on “The Dennos Museum Center – 25 Years and Growing.”
The meeting is open to the public, and visitors are welcome. Donations are encouraged, as the Historical Society maintains many spots of interest on the Old Mission Peninsula.
For further information, please e-mail President Barbara Berthelson at bbrthlsn@gmail.com , or telephone Judith Weaver at 231-947-0947.
“Steamers of the Grand Traverse Bay Line,” Steve Kelsch to address TAHS
“The Missouri,” at a dock in Traverse City, undated.
On the 3rd Sunday of every month, the Traverse Area Historical Society presents a program on local history. This month, we welcome Society favorite Steve Kelsch, who will speak on Steamers of the Grand Traverse Bay Line.
Program is free and open to the public. Program will take place Sunday, February 19th, from 1-3pm, at the Traverse Area District Library, McGuire Room, 610 Woodmere Ave.
Women’s History Project hosts program on “Reliving the Women’s March”
All are welcome to participate in an informal discussion hosted by the Women’s History Project of Northwest Michigan on the Women’s March on Washington, which took place on January 21 in Washington, D.C. Several attendees, including local organizer Becky Beauchamp, will answer questions about their experience.
Attendance is encouraged for all those who participated and those who wished they could, and anyone who has ideas about the March, women, and our place in history. The WHP Souper Sunday is an annual event for the public, featuring camaraderie, a casual and delicious soup luncheon, and a thought-provoking program.
Program will be Sunday, February 5th, from 12:30-2:30pm, in the McGuire Room of the Traverse Area District Library, 610 Woodmere Avenue. Your $5 donation gets you entrance, as well as a hearty lunch catered by Centre Street Café. To reserve your place, contact Sandy at 231-421-3343 or at sansep19@earthlink.net.
Swimmer’s Itch plagues many Michigan lakes. Children are especially affected as itchy red bumps appear on legs and torso, soon after swimming. Little can be done to alleviate the itching—the old remedy of baking soda is probably as good as any. In a few days it disappears on its own, anyway.
This historic 1942 photomicrograph revealed some of the morphologic details displayed by a schistosomal cercaria, which is the larval stage of a parasite that causes “swimmer’s itch”, and was magnified approximately 150x. This was one of a series of instructional images used by the Minnesota Board of Health to train its state public health workers. The purpose of the images and the accompanying training was focused on protecting potable water supplies from contaminants including toxins, and pathogenic organisms, such as the parasite pictured here. This material was obtained from Professor William A. Riley, of the University of Minnesota. The sample itself was taken from Lake Owasso, Minnesota. Image made available on Wikimedia Commons by the CDC/ Minnesota Department of Health, R.N. Barr Library; Librarians Melissa Rethlefsen and Marie Jones, Prof. William A. Riley. This media comes from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s Public Health Image Library (PHIL), with identification number #8556.
The cause of the itch has been known for many years: a tiny parasite inhabits snails of the lake, shedding them into the water on warm summer days.These cercariae are neither bacteria nor viruses, but a member of the flatworm phylum.In short, they are worms.Many years ago, at the University of Michigan Biological Station, I remember seeing them emerge from snails confined to a watchglass under a low-power microscope.Compared to other such water creatures, they weren’t that small.You could see them with your eyes if you cared to look.
After leaving the snails, apparently tired of the pace of life there, they swim around looking for a secondary host, frequently diving ducks such as the Common Merganser.Finding one, they bore through its skin, somehow finding one another in the circulatory system to mate (I believe the animals are bisexual).Afterwards, they migrate to the digestive tract where they produce eggs ready to be shed into the water with the duck’s feces.Gaining the freedom of open water, they locate snails to infect, thereby completing the cycle.
An eruption of cercarial dermatitis on the lower legs after having spent a day getting in and out of canoes in the shallows of a lake, 21 September 2007, en.wikipedia. Image courtesy of User:Cornellier
We humans should be bystanders to this unwholesome series of events, but for one thing: the cercariae mistake us for ducks.Only after entering the outermost layer of skin do they realize their awful mistake, but it is too late for them: our body’s immune system reacts to kill them off, that response leading to an angry, itching bump, swimmer’s itch.
Various methods have been used to control the pest.At least two of them have been tried locally: copper sulfate and removing duck populations.Copper sulfate kills snails, one of the hosts, but that method has been largely abandoned because it is not particularly effective in the long run and because it has harmful effects on other life.
Getting rid of ducks is easier said than done.You can’t shoot them all—after all, there are game laws and many of us (including me) like them.One technique is pyrotechnics.At first I thought this had to do with firecrackers and bombs to drive away flocks, but that is not exactly so.As applied to duck control, pyrotechnics has to do with firing a variety of noisemakers including propane cannons, thunderboom sticks, and bird bangers.A loud noise sends flocks flying, no matter what the source.
Glen Lake has tried this method for several years with inconclusive results.The Glen Lake Association on its website reports the itch still is bothersome, but not as bad as at Higgins Lake, where no such control has been attempted.For some persons, the intermittent detonations may prove as annoying as the itch.
A friend whose family owns a cottage at Glen Lake for many years tells me that the lake has always had a swimmer’s itch problem.The red, itching bumps were a rite of summer.Usually, they do not discourage children to the point they will not go in the water.Swimming and splashing in the water are just too much fun.
Female Common Merganser, Sylvan Heights Waterfowl Park, Scotland Neck, North Carolina, January 2011. Image provided by DickDaniels through Wikimedia Commons.
There are some things you can do to avoid swimmer’s itch (aside from scaring ducks and poisoning snails).There is some evidence that the cercariae are to be found more often on sunny, warm days, especially close to shore.Onshore winds drive them close to beaches where children are likely to play.Shorter swimming sessions might make infection less likely, too.Unfairly, suntan lotions often contain compounds that attract the itch organisms.Parents cannot catch a break—they must protect their children from the sun and from annoying creatures in the water.Apparently you cannot do both at the same time.
Common Merganser (male). Image taken in Cobourg, Ontario, Canada, February 2007. Image made available through Wikimedia Commons.
My reaction is that we will probably have to use these common sense measures of control—at least for now.As a duck lover, I hate to see flocks constantly chased off lakes by loud noises.Besides, how long will it take for them to get used to booms and pops?After all, the sounds of traffic in New York City used to be so quiet that they were ignored in 1850.Now, in 2017, it is no different, only we accept 70-decibel noise as normal.Wouldn’t the ducks do the same as we did—learn to ignore the noise?
Richard Fidler is co-editor of Grand Traverse Journal.
Here are two images of the Queen City No. 2 Steamer, separated by more than 200 years. Traverse City’s second Steamer is still preserved at a location near Lansing, Michigan. Where would you go to view the two steamers? Extra credit if you get both!
Sorry, readers! No one gets the accolades this month. So where can you find both of these standing relics, true testaments to the ingenuity of our historic fire fighters! The Traverse City Steamer is located at Fire Station No. 1, on West Front Street.
The Steamer in Lansing is on display near the Michigan Millers Insurance entrance drive, on Grand River Avenue. Restoration for this steamer was completed by Paul J. Baker, Vice President, an expert in the restoration of antique automobiles. The restored pumper was first placed on display for the public to see in early 1958, according to the Michigan Millers Facebook page.
By Richard Fidler, Co-Editor of Grand Traverse Journal
An archives can reveal hidden treasures to investigators with the patience to wade through boxes of records often as uninspiring as ledgers of collapsed businesses and minutes of fraternal organizations.Marlas Hanson uncovered one of them recently: a stack of newspapers never before recognized by historians as a resource for local news.There were about twenty copies of them, all dated in the year 1881.What could they tell us about the area that our other paper of the time, the Grand Traverse Herald, did not?This is a question that sets a historian’s heart racing—a new source of information.
Image by Amy Barritt, January 2017.
Alas, upon examining issue after issue, it became apparent to us that the Tribune had precious little in the way of stories about the Grand Traverse region.It was a political paper favoring the Democrats, perhaps a counterbalance to the Herald, athoroughly Republican outlet.Most newspapers of the time were explicitly Republican or Democrat: neutrality was not common.The later merging of the Evening Record, a paper with links to Republicans, with the Morning Eagle, a Democratic organ, formed the Traverse City Record-Eagle, a newspaper less partisan than most others.
Unlike the Herald, the Tribune dwelled mostly upon party conventions held elsewhere and descriptions of the nasty things Republicans were doing to the country at the time.It carried no long, detailed accounts of fires, weather events, and happenings about town, and little in the way of editorial reflections on local issues of the day.In short, it was a disappointment.
Still, one can find gold among the dross.Editors at the time had a gift for story-telling, a gift seldom displayed by present-day editors who use the dry, formal language of today’s news rooms.They frequently wrote about their feelings and things that happened to them, spinning complex sentences that astound us today with their style and expressiveness.By contrast, when editors raise their voices these days, it is only about their views on issues, local, state, or national.They do not let us know about their lives, unlike newspapermen of the 1880’s.One personal story captured from the Tribune’s editorials moves us to tears even now, more than a hundred and twenty years later.Though unsigned, it was probably written by Albert H. Johnson, editor and founder of the Tribune.
For background, Johnson previously had started the Leelanau Enterprise, but moved on to tackle the Traverse City market after that venture.We do not know how long the Tribune, lasted in the city—perhaps not long, given the preponderance of Republicans in the area at this time.Since the area has voted quite consistently for Republicans, a Democratic newspaper would not do well in such an environment.However long it lasted, the paper did leave us this story about Johnson’s grief at the death of his young son.It speaks to us across time about the universality of human suffering.
“In the Bottom Drawer
H. Johnson, editor
I saw my wife pull out the bottom drawer of the old family bureau this evening, and went softly out, and wandered up and down, until I knew that she had shut it up and gone to her sewing.We have some things laid away in that drawer which the gold of kings could not buy, and yet they are relics which grieve us until both our hearts are sore.I haven’t dared look at them for a year, but I remember every article.
There are two worn shoes, a little chip hat, with part of it gone, some stockings, pants, a coat, two or three spools, bits of broken crockery, a whip, and several toys.Wife, poor thing, goes to this drawer every day of her life and prays over it, and lets her tears fall upon the precious articles, but I dare not go.
This is not an image of Jack, but of an unknown boy holding a fish, at the northeast corner of Wellington & State Streets. Did little Jack like to fish? We suspect so, as it was a popular pastime. Image from the Historical Society Collection at Traverse Area District Library.
Sometimes we speak of little Jack, but not often.It has been a long time, but somehow we can’t get over grieving .He was such a burst of sunshine into our lives that his going away has been like covering our every day existence with a pall.Sometimes, when we sit alone of an evening, I writing and she sewing, a child on the street will call out as our boy used to, and we will both start up with beating hearts and a wild hope, only to find this darkness more of a burden than ever.
It is so still and quiet now.I look up at the window, where his blue eyes used to sparkle at my coming, but he is not there.I listen for his prattling feet, his merry shout and his ringing laugh, but there is no sound.There is no one to climb over my knees, no one to search my pockets and tease for presents, and I never find the chairs turned over, the broom down, or ropes tied to door knobs.
I want someone to tease me for my knife; to ride on my shoulder; to lose my ax; to follow me to the gate when I go, and be there to meet me when I come; to call “good night” from the little bed now empty.And wife she misses him still more; there are no little feet to wash, no prayers to say, no voice teasing for lumps of sugar or sobbing with the pain of a hurt; and she would give her own life almost, to wake at midnight and look across to the crib at midnight and see the our boy there as he used to be.
So, we preserve our relics, and when we are dead we hope that strangers will handle them tenderly, even if they shed no tears over them.”
Many school groups from Traverse City and Leelanau traveled to Innisfree, a camp for environmental education, on Pyramid Point within the Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore. The program operated year-round within sight of the Manitou Passage, and the fifth- and sixth-grade student visitors would stay for four nights at the Camp. Students were led on beach and wood hikes by a crack team of naturalists. In the winter, there were snow shoe hikes and ski trips. Canoe trips on the Crystal River was a staple activity as were “get lost” hikes.
Gus Leinbach and group, on a hill at Innisfree Camp, ca. 1970. Image provided by the author.
Gus Leinbach bought the camp in 1970 and started the Innisfree Project which was named after a William Butler Yeats poem by that name. Gus was an educator from Ann Arbor who set up the camp with the concept of self-direction for the campers and counselors. If you had an idea, a skill, and interest then you could form your idea, pitch it to a mentor or guide to help, propose it to the rest of the campers and get a group together to do what you wanted. There was a bike shed with tons of parts to work on building bicycles, an old car to learn how to fix engines, a frozen zoo of found animals that were preserved, and an old orchard with apples to pick. The kitchen always seemed to be open for campers to come in and help. It was a true community experience that offered endless possibilities to explore, create, invent, and express.
Gus and his wife Paula operated Crystalaire on Crystal Lake before establishing Innisfree. Camp Lookout “spun off” from Crystalaire and still carries on the tradition of self-directed camp life, where campers and counselors create their own inventive activities. Gus died in 1988, and Innisfree was sold and is still operated as “Camp Kohana.”
During the summers at Innisfree, trips were offered and campers traveled on bikes along the roads of Leelanau and to faraway places such as New England and Isle Royale. I have recently been in touch with Carolyn, my co-leader of a small group of campers to Isle Royale. We both still agree that it was the best trip ever.
Campers at Innisfree. Photograph provided by the author.
In the summer of 1984, we loaded the van with campers and equipment, and we were on our way to meet the ferry boat at Copper Harbor. The trip to the ferry gave us the opportunity to get a sense of the cast of characters within the group. Our first stop was on the Keweenaw Peninsula where I parked the van and made everyone hike up a giant hill to an old fire tower. I insisted that the view was worth it. Everyone was stiff from the long trip across the Upper Peninsula and needed to stretch their legs.
We ate delicious thimble berries along the trail, as I regaled the group with stories of the awesome view from the old fire tower. We got to the top and all we saw was a big block of cement with some metal pieces sticking out. The Forest Service had removed the tower. From that low point, on a high place, it was all downhill to Isle Royale.
The ferry boat at Copper Harbor was surprisingly small. We loaded our backpacks and were off. Lake Superior was very rough that day and many in the group were sick. The water calmed as we approached Isle Royale, and were greeted by a blast of warm air. Camper Emily said: “It smells like pine air freshener!”
We were warned about foxes that would steal food by the Rangers as we unloaded our gear. Willy, a short boy from the Philippines, and Steven, a lanky Inuit, were captivated by the idea of seeing a fox. They rigged up an apparatus for tricking the fox as we set up camp at Rock Harbor.
1978 Isle Royale camping expedition by Innisfree campers. Photograph courtesy of Beth Leinbach.
After being splashed by the water of Lake Superior, it was surprisingly hot at the campground. Emily emerged from her tent and informed Carolyn and I that she had changed her mind about the trip. She demanded a helicopter. She wanted to go home. After some tears and anguish Emily was ready to listen. We explained there would be no helicopter and she was with us for the duration of the trip.
Somehow we had ended up with a large cache of frozen hot dogs. Everyone had eaten their fill so Steve and Willy decided that a hot dog would be perfect fox bait. While foxes stole food we informed Steve that he was not allowed to feed them due to park regulations. Not to be thwarted in his quest to see a fox Steve rigged up hot dog on a bungee cord on a string that he could pull just before the fox grabbed it. He was up all night swatting mosquitos and outfoxing the fox.
The water of Lake Superior is known for being frigid, but late summer sun beats down for long days on the inlets and coves of Isle Royale. The water there becomes delightfully swimmable. Large slabs of granite warmed by the sun made fine places for our group to rest after a plunge. The balance of our trip was spent hiking and swimming in Royale coves and inlets.
One afternoon, when we made it to camp on the early side, we decided to build a sweat lodge out of our tent poles and fly tarps. We were near the end of our week on Isle Royale, so by this time all the campers were pretty good friends and didn’t mind trying something new. We built a fire and found some upland cobbles to heat up.We all got on our bathing suits and crawled into the makeshift lodge.The hot rocks were placed in the center and we all sat and sweated until we couldn’t stand it anymore.With lots of hollering, we all ran through the busy campsite and past the families quietly camping. As a group we all jumped off the dock into the deep Lake Superior water.It was then I knew that we had changed the campers’ lives.
Gus and Big Pig, at Innisfree, undated. Image provided by the author.
After dropping off all of Steve, Willy, Emily and all the rest, Carolyn and I returned to Innisfree where the late summer band camp was underway.The Big Reds were blasting fight songs out into the Manitou Passage and Big Pig was watching the band maneuvers from his sty near the football field.
The site where the Camp was on Pyramid Point is amazingly beautiful.The high bluff above Lake Michigan was lined with trees to sit in and among and gaze at the sunset. And the beach below with the rustic waterfront was a wonderful place to play. But the real beauty of Innisfree was in the people.
S. A. McFerran is a graduate of the National Outdoor Leadership School and has led six, 24 day wilderness courses in addition to an Antioch College Environmental Field Program. He has led outdoor programs for Northwestern Michigan College, Appalachian School of Experience, Group and Individual Growth and Traverse Area Public Schools. He worked as a naturalist and trip leader at Innisfree.
Locally-produced digital magazine featuring nature and local history from the Grand Traverse Region.
