Talahi Diaries, September 10, 1966 / 2005

In a fitting piece of irony, synchronicity, coincidence... or whatever you may call it... the very first entry in the Talahi diary was written on the same day that the very last entry was entered, 39 years later:

September 10, 1966

Drove to Lake Geneva to look at property for a summer home. Went to Joerm [?] Realty. Mr. Clifford showed us several. We fell "in love" with a house in Indian Hills. [Grandpa]

That's the house they put an offer on two days later (according to the diary). The offer? $14,000. I don't know if that offer was accepted, but the house was purchased, and they closed on October 14, 1966:

Closed deal on purchase of property in Fontana. Will name it "Talahi" (our T.C. annual) which is Chippewa Indian for "Under The Oaks." Very appropriate w/ our oaks. [Grandpa]

"T.C" refers to St. Cloud State Teacher's College, as it was called then, and is where my grandparents met. Here's a picture taken just three or so months later, early in 1967:

Fast-forward 39 years to September 10, 2005. My grandparents were now living in Dallas, but were spending the summers at the lake house. However, we didn't want my grandfather to make the long two-day drive, so the last couple of years I'd drive them up there and fly back home. At the end of the summer I'd fly back up there and drive them back. After 2005 we didn't think it was a good idea for them to be up there for three months by themselves, so they stayed year around in Dallas. This particular September day was the last time my grandfather was at Talahi, and, as usual, I made a diary entry:

September 10, 2005

Breakfast at Hot Diggity Dog. Today we'll make the house ready for the winter. Will leave tomorrow in the AM. [Hank]

"Hot Diggity Dog" was a hole-in-the-wall eatery of the type that my grandparents were so fond. It was in Walworth, and was open from 5am to 1pm, basically serving breakfasts to local farmers and the occasional hot dog to tourists.

Now, I was up at Talahi last summer (2008) to load up a U-Haul full of furniture and boxes that I then drove back to Dallas, but I was unable to make a diary entry. I really wanted to, knowing that it was the last day I'd ever be at Talahi, but unfortunately the diary had been packed in one of the boxes and I couldn't find it. I contemplated "faking" the entry, adding it after the fact, but in the end chose not to. The entry of September 10, 2005, coming 39 years to the day after the first entry, thus, is the final entry.

Here's a picture of the house from 2004. (Click on it to see a larger version). In almost 40 years the pine trees at the front of the house have grown from about 3 feet high to about 40, and the new edition that we built onto the house is visible on the left. The composition is kind of odd, but I wanted to capture the feeling of the tall, majestic oaks that surrounded the house and property. They were, after all, the inspiration for the house's name:

Talahi Diaries, July 28, 1967

In a previous Talahi Diary entry, I erroneously stated that the May, 1967 entries were my grandfather's last. As it turns out, there was one more, and this was his actual last diary entry:

July 28, 1967

Hankie, w/ popgun, basket of grapes & jar of fire flies, goes to sleep by himself in tent @ 8:00pm - Awakened at 1:30 am, & came in. [Grandpa]

The tent in question, here, was a small, two-man pup tent. I remember this night well, and I remember it was thunder that woke me up and frightened me enough to want to go inside. What I didn't realize then, however, was that evidently my grandparents were very concerned about me sleeping alone in the tent (in the front yard, mind you... not even in the back) and kept wanting to go out and tell me to come inside. My mom, however, was one of these "let him learn things on his own" types, and kept telling my grandparents to let me be, that I'd be okay, etc. Followed by my grandmother doing some more worrying and asking again if maybe I should come inside, followed by my mother getting more aggravated with them and forbidding them to "rescue" me.

I find none of this surprising in the least, as it fits with everyone's personality traits to this day.

Not mine, of course; it's not like I'm still afraid of thunder. Just so we're clear.

Talahi Diaries, May 5-7, 1967

In 1966, when my grandparents decided to purchase a summer house near Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, they were given a little red diary by their friends Grace and Army. They were to use this diary to record all their time at the cottage. My grandfather made several entries at first, but then stopped after about a year. Several years later I found the diary and started to make entries every time I was up at the lake, and this continued for the next 30 years or so until my grandparents decided to sell the house a year ago (it's still on the market, by the way). I'm going to transcribe all of my grandfather's entries here, in chronological order, but I'm going to start with his entries from the weekend of May 5, 1967, because this is where I randomly opened the diary just now. As it turns out, these were the last entries he made, so it's sort of appropriate. I'll offer any associated memories I have with a given entry. Won't this be fun? ;-)


May 5, 1967 (Friday):

Drove up from O.P. [Oak Park] w/ Grandma & Grandpa Toti & Hankie. Fixed nice fire in fireplace. Arrived about 7:30 pm after having burger @ Marengo. [Grandpa]

When we'd make the two-hour drive from Oak Park to the lake house in Fontana, Wisconsin (one of three villages on Lake Geneva, the other two being William's Bay and Lake Geneva), we'd often stop at a burger joint named "Yum-Yums" in Marengo, IL. If ever a place warranted the "joint" moniker, it was this joint. A hole-in-the-wall right across from the local high school, it served shakes, malts, and "char-broiled" burgers, including my favorite, the "pizza burger" which of course had mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce on it. The color scheme was late 60s "harvest orange" and brown, and it had the requisite booths with faded vinyl seats in said color with rips where the stuffing was coming out, cigarette burns on the tabletops, and a juke box in the corner. It was great.

Grandpa and grandma Toti were my grandmother's parents, and thus my great-grandparents. They lived about 800 miles away in Eveleth, MN, but my grandfather would drive them down to the Chicago area once a year or so to visit.

May 6, 1967 (Saturday):

Hankie woke up about 5:45 am. Built kite for Hank. Broke 1st time but Hankie got to fly it at College Camp Field. Poppy did a lot of yard work - Nice day. [Grandpa]

My grandfather made this kite out of a paper bag from Carson Pirie Scott and strips of wood, and some rags for a tail. The night before we'd glued and tied the sticks together in a cross and the cut the bag to a kite shape and glued it to the cross. I was anxious to play with the kite right then, but my grandfather told me the glue would have to dry first. I was very impatient. He also made a kite string caddy and wound what seemed like miles of string around it in preparation for the next day's event. I of course was so excited to fly the kite that I woke up really early; I remember the sun wasn't up yet, and see now that it was 5:45 am. My poor grandfather. I still can clearly see my grandfather struggling to get the kite aloft in the relatively calm morning. I still don't know where College Camp field is in Lake Geneva, maybe someone can enlighten me.

I'd never heard my grandfather refer to my great-grandfather as "poppy" in my life; it was usually "Fred", and occasionally "papa", rarely "Bona Fede" (his real name), but never "poppy". I don't know what that was about.

May 7, 1967 (Sunday)

Left for O.P. about 7:00 pm on May 6th [Grandpa]

I don't know why he entered this on the next day rather than on Saturday, but I include this entry for completeness.

And yes, my grandfather called me "Hankie" his entire life.