By DAVID GREEN
I was applied for and was granted a mini-vacation last weekend.
It’s been a busy month with two brothers visiting at different times and all three children passing through town—all three at the same time for one night.
When daughter Rosanna (and Taylor) headed back south, Colleen and I delivered son Ben to his wife in the north country, and daughter Maddie went along.
Ben’s wife, Sarah, went to high school in Suttons Bay northwest of Traverse City. Her family also has a cottage across the bay in Elk Rapids. That’s where we traveled, to meet up with Sarah who arrived in the north a few days earlier than Ben.
It was a short-but-sweet journey. Kayaking in Grand Traverse Bay, swimming in Grand Traverse Bay and sailing in Grand Traverse Bay. Not a bad way to spend a day away from home.
I got a lot of writing done in the car while someone else drove, but I never had the time to write a By The Way tale. Back to the archives I go to find something from the past.
This tale is from a visit to Steve and Brenda Begnoche’s house in Ludington in July 1989. It was 20 years ago, but I still remember this incident very well. It almost chokes me up.
July 26, 1989
We made our annual trek to Ludington last Friday (an abbreviated version of a mini-vacation) to visit the Begnoches. As some of you will remember, Steve holds the record among former Observer employees for longevity as the editor here.
The whole weekend was rather uneventful except when Brenda Begnoche made that big man throw up in a restaurant. More about that later.
Uneventful is a very good word to describe the three fishing trips my son went on. Steve taught him the thrill of perch fishing off the Ludington breakwater, with a side trip to a sparkling river apparently devoid of life but for one water snake. Was that river upstream or downstream from the big Dow chemical plant? I don’t recall any specimen of wildlife attaching itself to a hook.
That’s not exactly true. A loose bobber and hook accidentally sailed downstream after getting cut from a big entanglement of fishing line. There were some exciting entanglements. Something was pulling that bobber under as it floated on down the river.
The final tally for the weekend stood at about seven hours of staring at bobbers in trade for seven perch. Ah, the joys of fishing.
But back to Brenda.
We went out to dinner at Maria’s Restaurant, a very long and thin eatery. You could have lunch at the front door, then sit down for dinner by the time you reached the back. We hiked into the middle and were seated next to a table of grownups. We were four adults with tolerable table manners and six kids.
We were minding our own business—and wishing the kids would do the same—when we noticed a man choking on his food. It was rather quickly decided that Brenda would do the honors of applying the Heimlich since she was a hospital employee.
It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. The victim soon returned to good humor, saying he would do anything for a hug. Brenda was then hugged by Maria and by the man’s wife, and soon everyone was applauding. If I remember right, a good time was had by all. But we passed up dessert.
The man thanked Brenda (“I’m surprised you even heard me with those loud kids”) and his wife complimented us on our well-behaved children (“I liked it best when the little girl got her hand stuck in the water glass”).
On the way home to Morenci, Ben asked when I was going to retire and whether we might ever move to Lundington. But at the Begnoche household, Michelle and Renee still have fond memories of growing up in Morenci, and they want to move back.
What? Give up Lake Michigan for Bean Creek? You bet! That’s what they want, so I guess it’s time to trade children.