I don't know why I did it ….perhaps it was the mention of another subject that triggered the idea in my mind...but I found myself sitting in front of a computer, watching Google Earth come to life.
Technology has a way of sneaking up on us....just look at what we see and hear today that we could never have experienced a few short years ago, but what I was about to experience took me by surprise...a surprise that I wasn't ready for....and before long...my mind and my spirit were far, far away....I had lost all conscious thought.....transfixed in a time long gone.
Driven by an idea from “God only knows”....as Google Earth came to life on my computer I found myself typing the name in the search box: “Seven Mile Lake, Three Lakes Wisconsin”.
It wasn't long before that “blue swirling ball” we affectionately call earth started a downward spiral to a pinpoint on the planet …....Seven Mile Lake.........Wisconsin...we had arrived.
I've used this program to take me all over the world.....places that I have actually visited and places that hopefully, will soon show my footprints. Like my own neighborhood, small as it may be nestled between the mountain ridges of the Guyandotte River valley here in Southern West Virginia. Or, the more exotic places in the world like the day I walked the path beside the Zambezi River as it plunged over a 300 foot cliff into the river gorge called Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. The roar of the falls creating a mist that rises nearly in a mile into the air. What a blessing to just say ….......”I've been there”!
I've retraced my flight paths up and over the eastern seaboard over the tip of Iceland...down the western coast of Europe over my “father's land of Ireland” touching down in England. Then off once again over France, Spain, …...........the Mediterranean Sea with its deep hues of blue and green only to be soon contrasted by the dark browns,tans and yellows of the Sahara desert.........a magic carpet ride indeed.
But, this time it was different and it caught me by surprise...hurling me into my past as a young boy. Time spent with Grandma .....Aunts........Uncles........and cousins. There it was....as I looked down on the expanse of the lake via a satellite photo taken in early March......remnants of ice still floating on the lake's surface.
Before I realized it I was with my Grandmother sitting in a boat...with a cane pole in hand......it was my first ever fishing trip …......I can see it all so clear.....my Grandmothers face...the checkered lumberjack jacket she was wearing....the bonnet on her head...the sun dancing off the water like diamonds...the tug on the pole held tightly in the small hands of a sever year old boy. I had hooked a Perch!
Spending summers with Grandma in the 1950's in the pine woods of northern Wisconsin as I look back at it now was a “priceless treasure”. Living in a log cabin that had been built by my Grandfather, a man I never knew as a child as he had died before I really understood who he was. Years later it was explained to me that the strange man with the big circled eye glasses and the missing thumb was none other than my Grandfather.
I didn't realize it but we were rich even though we had no electricity, gas or indoor plumbing; the "privy" was down the path. There was a fresh water pump that needed to be primed sitting outside the cabin....the old cast iron wood stove.....the water bucket with the “dipper” at the ready to refresh a young lad who would come charging into the cabin desperately needing a drink.
That old cabin sat on hillside looking down toward the lake...it only had two rooms....the front half was the kitchen and dining room while the back half was the large bedroom separated by a wire that ran the width of the room....holding a cloth curtain that afforded my grandmother her privacy.
It was Grandma who taught me how to load the cast iron stove with split logs and kinlin.....and to carefully light a match to the news paper and wood scraps. The table in the kitchen sat next to the big window that faced the lake and mornings would be spent watching the sunlight bounce off the lake....casting reflections upon the ceiling of the room.
The fragrance of the wood burning in the stove while Grandma put the finishing touches on “Buttermilk Pancakes” ...working with the batter she had prepared the night before. I remember the old spoon she used to stir the batter....it had been used so much that one side of it was worn down to the curved shape of the mixing bowl.
Grandma used an old cast iron platter to cook the pancakes. I remember being mesmerized as I watched her test the heated platter by dropping, droplets of water on it as they danced, sizzled and popped. Only Grandma knew the secret of exactly when the platter was just right....the “molten moment “ that her old worn out ladle would be used to pour the batter on the hot platter.
Eating those “golden circles of delight” with my Uncle Walter's homemade maple syrup poured out in generous amounts was indescribable as we discussed the day that awaited us.
Hanging on the wall, was an old calendar with a picture of a young boy laying in a field, piece of straw sticking out of his mouth....big bright cumulus clouds over head....it said it all. That was my world........only I was surrounded by “tall, stately pine trees whose tops seemed to touch the sky”.
Even though it was just Grandma and me our days were full. Just up the path was my Aunt and Uncle's cabin where my cousin Jerry stayed. Jerry and I were almost the same age.....a mere two months apart. His birthday was on New Years Eve...and it was so exciting to be with him during those celebrations......so long ago.
Jerry had two older brothers and two sisters. Sometimes we were all up there....”at the lakes”....spending our summers like only young children know how to do.
Our days flew by so quickly....there was the required trip to the mail box every week day...a mile and three quarter walk down a forested road as it meandered through the woods...over the swamp, a couple of hills and finally to the main road....there we sat and waited with great anticipation for the mailman to arrive.
Those daily trips were often fueled by the anticipation that our parents would be sending a letter with money in it or maybe even a package with a new toy...... “a care package from mom and dad”.
We never wore any shoes...it was "barefoot bliss"...everyday.... cotton wash paints with suspenders....no shirts.....it was wonderful! Special occassions, like trips into Three Lakes, required a shirt....handcrafted with a "custom fit" by a loving Grandmother and Aunt out of flour sacks. Nothing but the best!
Parts of the old road crossed a swampy area that had been filled in with dirt and gravel. To protect our feet from the sharp rocks, we thought, we would wet our feet and the walk in mud puddles...building up a “short lived muddy pad” on the bottoms of our feet.
The trips were always different....crossing the swamp we looked for turtles sunning in the warm morning the sun. Jerry always wanted to throw rocks at the ones we saw. Often one of us would run ahead and peek over the hill to see if there was a bear near the mailbox. All kinds of other animals...squirrels...chip monks....the sounds of chattering red winged black birds....Blue Jays calling out our presence....the sound of wood peckers hammering away at the bark of a birch or pine tree.
Then there were early morning trips down to where the boats were tired off. Slowly and carefully we would push them to one side hoping to find a bullfrog hiding beneath the boats. We caught literally hundreds of those frogs over the years.
On special days there were trips when Grandma, with all the others, would put us kids in a boat and row us across the lake to a naturally sandy beach for a swim while she and her sister picked berries....blue berries....raspberries...oh they were so good....especially when they made them into jellies and jams....or cooked them and served them with fresh homemade bread...dipped into the berry juice... "oh Lord...it was so good"!
The cabins were a good distance from any kind of store in those days....even gas for Uncle Walter's truck had to be purchased at a resort across the lake. This required a trip that would find us kids packed in the back of his canvas covered pickup for an extended ride thru the woods. Sometimes he was a 'grumpy old rascal” and I can still see my Aunt giving him “ a piece of her mind.....about his driving”.
Oh how the memories flooded my mind...before realizing it I had been transported off the planet to a place that I had never been before...it was untouchable! It was like I was watching it all unfold from Heaven. There it all was....I could see the spot that Grandma took me to catch that “first fish”....the cabin that still stands on the side of the hill....there's the road to the mail box....crossing over the swamp....the distant resort where gasoline was purchased out of a hand pump with dancing balls that tumbled as the fuel was first pumped into a large glass container.....and then emptied into the truck.
Little did I realize that "this flight",courtesy of Google Earth, would take me back so far into my past. It was a wonderful journey deep within my memory...filled with the sounds and faces of one of the best times of my life.....a time that will never be repeated again.
Grandma would pass away within 5 years of those wonderful days...my Aunt and Uncle would follow a short time later. The shocker would be that my cousin Jerry would likewise pass due to a medical test "going all wrong".
My Mom and Dad are gone....so are Jerry's. They are almost "all gone"...yet the blessings each of these remarkable people gave to me remains....I have these precious memories that bring nothing but smiles to my face and warmth to my heart. And thanks to Google Earth I can return to my "heavenly outpost...anytime to look down on my childhood any time I want to".
What a Blessing.........I'm so Blessed.....Thank You Lord.......Thank you for putting all those wonderful people in my life....I have,over the course of time,come to realize....You Lord,...... my Heavenly Father, are the source of all blessings.
Thanks Dad!
