"Water Problem"

“How High's the Water, Mama?”

by John B. Anderson

Bill, a friend, and I turned 21 this year. This was a good year by any young man's standards. Bill had satisfied his obligation to Uncle Sam by participating in the “Kiddie Cruise.” The “Kiddie Cruise” was a navy program where a kid of 17 could sign up a year before graduation, join the navy when he graduated from high school, and fulfill his service requirement in three years rather than the usual four years. I, on the other hand, was taking my chances with the draft.

When Bill arrived home from the navy, we decided to practice our hand at drinking, the most popular U.P. Sport. I was the day manager of a small restaurant that summer, with not too much responsibility except to be at work at 6 a.m. One particular evening, we settled in at the Barnes Hotel Bar. I'm pretty sure that the Barnes actually rented a few rooms, but I'm not really sure. I had heard that the guys who dredged the harbor stayed there, but the Barnes made its money at the bar. Bill and I were helping keep the bar afloat that night.

After a few too many, Bill and I decided to go to St. Ignace. One of us had heard that the girls were plentiful there, so it made sense to us to get into Bill's old Chevy and start for St. Ignace. I said, “Bill, wouldn't it be fun to drive all the way to St. Ignace on the beach?”

Bill responded, “Great idea!”

We drove out of Manistique onto the beach, and then proceeded east of town, on the beach, for about five miles. That's when I asked, “Bill, are you still on the beach? The waves are getting higher on my side, and pretty soon they'll be coming in my window.”

Just then, the car died. Both of us were fairly wet by the time we got out of the car. The cold water had sobered us up, so we realized that we were in the middle of George Orr, (GorGor), Creek. We, apparently, had forgotten that there were many rivers and creeks between Manistique and St. Ignace. We walked the five miles back to town. It was now 2 a.m., and I had to be at work at 6.

I met Bill the next afternoon, after I had gotten off from work. I drove him out five miles to where his car was still halfway in the surf. That frontage area of Lake Michigan was just being developed with residential lots, and we spotted some heavy equipment there. A young boy was watching us, probably out there with his parents just hanging out. He looked about 8- years- old and he was standing next to a bulldozer. Bill asked, “Can you drive that bulldozer?”

The young lad responded, “Of course I can.”

Bill said, “Borrow a chain from your dad, and help us get my car out of the lake.”

The boy fired up the bulldozer; in those days, construction workers didn't worry about someone stealing something so large as a bulldozer, so they always left the keys in them. We hooked up the car to the bulldozer, and the car came out of the surf with hardly any effort on the part of the bulldozer. The car started right away, and Bill was able to drive it back to town.

Our lesson in geography ended happily, and the girls in St. Ignace are still safe.