Who's on Your Block?

By John B. Anderson

After I left Manistique, it seems as if I moved a lot. When I graduated from Western Michigan University, the three of us, (Sally, Eric and I), moved to Parchment, MI, into our first home. From there, I decided to climb the corporate ladder, which required that we move to Springfield, IL, this time Peter joined us in our journey. What we discovered in central Illinois was that, if you liked corn and soy beans, Springfield was a wonderful place to live. With Christopher in tow, we moved back to Michigan to the village of Sherwood. From there, we quit making kids, and moved to Allegan, MI, and that's where we stayed for the next 30 years. Each of these moves happened every three years, and we lost some of our household goods each time that we moved. For the kids sake, we characterized each move as a new adventure, but they were really a pain in the butt.

When I grew up in Manistique, I only moved once. I started out at 552 Manistique Avenue, at my grandmother's house, born into my Aunt Marjorie's bed, (Aunt Marjorie wasn't in the bed at the time, which was good. My aunt was cool, but my mom was a whole lot cooler.) My grandmother, Alice Bretz, delivered me, as she had delivered many Manistique babies. She was a licensed midwife in the State of Michigan. She kept records of all of the babies she assisted with, but I can only recall Bernie Fish and Myrna Fish. Many moms didn't go to Shaw Hospital to have their kids, they just called the doctor and my grandmother.

My grandfather, Charlie Bretz, operated a general store in Rudyard, another in Engadine, before coming to Manistique. He had a greenhouse which yielded many blue ribbons at the Schoolcraft County Fair. He also worked for the city, keeping the flowers around all of the monuments fresh. Grandpa's true love was his eighty acres near the Seney Game Refuge. Grandpa would go to his cabin three weeks at a time, sometimes stealing my dog. I loved it when Grandpa would take Sandy and me to the cabin. The deer would show up in the morning, and we'd let the dog out to chase them. Grandpa could shoot a penny out of the air with his .22, and, at 50 paces, he could shoot the tines of a fork, one tine at a time. Mom worried about what we kids would do, if Grandpa had a heart attack, while we were at the cabin. He said, “Don't worry, Faye, McCauley's cow comes by once a day, and I've trained John to follow the cow.”

My folks rented a house at 538 Manistique Ave. from Mrs. McCauley. The main furnace burned large chunks of coal, and the kitchen stove was a wood stove. We would get a load of wood from the handle factory, and, in later years, it was my job to keep the wood boxes full. I did my grandmother's wood box as well. That's when I learned the expression, “Lazy man's load.” I loved to fill grandma's wood box on the days that she would make donuts. I got the holes. She fried them in lard.

Next door, to the west, were Leona and Jack Williams. Jack was the Miller High Life distributor and you remember Leona, the eighth grade English teacher. Leona and Jack had an old garage that they didn't use, so Pat and I would steal carrots from my dad's garden, haul them to the roof of the garage, and eat them. We dubbed the roof our, “Carrot Company.” The back part of the roof was harder to climb, so Pat and I removed a few shingles to make it easier to climb. On day, we ran into Ray Roussin and Duncan Reese. We invited them up to our carrot company. Just then, Leona and Jack pulled into the driveway, and spotted Ray and Duncan on the roof of their garage. Pat and I were still on the ground, so we hid behind some trees next door. Ray and Duncan got a tongue lashing from the Williams for ripping off the shingles.

Mrs. Williams got me back a few years later. When I was in the seventh grade, I went to my first dance at Lincoln School. I stayed on the sidelines, (typical seventh grade boy's behavior,) as I was too scared to touch a girl, let alone dance with her. Mrs. Williams grabbed me, and paired me up with Ann Cowman. I must say that Ann was gracious, and didn't make me look bad. After that, I didn't mind dancing the slow ones.

Ann and her family lived just past the Williams, before they moved across the street from us. Ann's parents were Earl, (“Turk”) and Nora. Her brothers were Jackie and Jimmy. When World War II ended, Mr. Cowman took out his hand gun and shot it many times into the air. At the same time, I remember the town's siren blasting continuously. On another day, Jackie was hitting pop flies to Jimmy when I got too close to Jackie. When Jackie swung the bat, it conked me on the head. (I haven't been the same since.) Jackie and Jimmy were popular with the young ladies. I remember “Newsy” and Mary Ann used to come sniffing around once in awhile.

Most of my adventures on Manistique Avenue included Pat Radgens. I've known Pat for 73 years, he says 72, but who's to quibble. We wiped out on our trikes coming down the pump hill. We put together concoctions in our kitchens to poison the ants. One day, Pat fell out of a tree, hit a wire fence, and bounced back up, caught a limb, and avoided breaking his back on some rocks below. Pat and I had two hideouts, one behind Robertson's garage, and on behind our garage. These provided good places to pee, so we didn't have to go into the house. We never wanted to into the house, as our moms would put us to work.

We stayed on Manistique Avenue until I was eight years old, when we moved to Arbutus Avenue. That was also the year that Grandpa died. We purchased this monster house at 644 Arbutus, from Art Drevdahl for $8,000. The Drevdahl family was related to Liz Orr. The house was a three-story house, if you counted the attic. The only way to get to the attic was up a steep ladder, but the attic ran the full length of the house. We didn't go up there much, as it would disturb the bats. Upstairs was a three-room apartment, complete with its own utilities and a shared bath. The living room was huge, a perfect arrangement for parties.

I'm going to tell you about the 600 block of Arbutus Avenue, but that really wouldn't cover the whole neighborhood. I have to include part of Cataragus, Stuben, Michigan and Garden Avenues to be complete. The west end of the 600 block of Arbutus was the Kelly residence, but, kiddie-corner to them was the Lakeside Grocery. John R. Kelly and I used to sit on the front steps of the grocery to eat our “Dreamsicles” and our “Dixie Cups.” Toward Michigan Avenue was the Bernier's basketball hoop. Almost all of the neighborhood played basketball at Bernier's. This included Kenny Bernier, Fran Bernier, Wayne Gunderman, Connie Anderson, John R., Bill Malloch, Ron Provo, Lloyd Miller, Sharon Sitkoski, and Janet Ott. One time, Sharon got really pissed at Bill, so she threw the basketball at him, catching him just below the waist. Just before Bill pounded the crap out of Sharon, he realized that she was a girl, so he just groaned for awhile.

Berniers had a mean German Shepard named “King.” “King” was tied near the basketball court. Whenever the ball was knocked over by “King,” we had to get one of the Berniers to fetch it. “You go get the ball” “No, you go get it” One time, Chris Curran got a little too close to “King,” and “King” bit Chris in the cheek. Chris ran to Malloch's, where Mr. Malloch got Chris to medical assistance.

John W. Kelly, (dad), Monica Kelly, (mom), Mary Ann, John R., and Frankie, lived in the corner house. John W. sold insurance, was a Colonel in the army, and was Manistique's postmaster. Monny was an excellent bridge player. At one point, the older boys called John R., “Little D.I.” John used to say, “Damn it” all of the time. We had a clubhouse in the rafters of Kelly's garage. Members included Wayne Gunderman, president; Bill Norton, vice president; John Anderson, secretary; and John R. Kelly, bouncer. When Frankie was in the 6^th grade, he was the captain on my St. Francis basketball team, which went undefeated against every elementary school in the county, including Cooks elementary.

Grandpa and Grandma Malloch lived next to Kelly's. Grandpa Malloch smoked “Marvel” cigarettes. He would give Bill a quarter, and send us to Lakeside Grocery for some “Marvels.” Bill was allowed to spend the change, which he shared with me. Mr. and Mrs. Cook lived in the next house. Their son, Dave, “Young Muff,” used to hang out with us younger guys sometimes. Wayne Gunderman lived right behind the Cooks. The families had a passageway among the cedar trees, so the kids could pass through from Arbutus Avenue to Michigan Avenue. Apparently, too many kids used that passageway, so one of the families ran some cord across the opening. Following that, on a dark night, Steve, (“Skinny) Jewett and I were throwing rocks a the streetlight by Kelly's corner. Suddenly, we noticed a car coming up Arbutus with its lights out. Cops! Steve and I ran through Cook's yard. We made our way through the cedars, knowing the opening was wired, and we headed for my place. Joe Davis, the cop, hit the cords that covered the opening. Such language! Steve and I laughed all the way to my house.

Next to Cook's were the Vassau's, Deal and Fran. Deal was a sister to Mrs. Eugene Johnston across the street. Mrs. LaFranier was next. Mrs. LaFraniere was really hard of hearing. Her telephone number was 181-W, when ours was 181-J. She was the other end of our party line. We would be on the phone, when we would hear, “122-J, please.”

“Mrs. LaFraniere, we're on the phone now.”

“Eh?”

(Louder) “We're on the phone now!”

“Eh?”

Mrs. Swanson live in the next tiny house. I accidentally broke her window, when I threw a snowball at Billy Allen. That cost me 50 cents.

Gus and Myrtle Hahn lived next door to us. They were family friends from Engadine. Gus was terribly gregarious and generous. It was midnight when Gus fired up his snowmobile and did circles around our house and his. Mom said that she would deal with it the next day when Gus was not in his cups. He had a wonderfully prolific garden every year, and he shared many vegetables with us. Gus also shared his smelt. He would catch a washtub full of smelt, and we would get a pail full. Super good eating. When Myrtle died, Gus became pals with Ray (“Dude”) Ranguette, who lived around the corner. “Dude” was a good pal, as he was the Hiram Walker distributor for this part of the woods. After palling for awhile, the lady who lived behind Gus befriended him; they got married, and she straightened his ass out. I guess “Dude” straightened out too.

You know who lived in our house, but you didn't know everyone. Our three-room apartment was first rented by Ernie and Betty Kralic. When baby, Kenny, came along, the family built a house on Riverside. Our next renter was Ward and Arlene Goodney. When baby, Anne, came along Ward and Arlene bought a house in Marquette. Much later, Ed, (“Butch”), Carlson stayed at the Goodney residence in Marquette the night we lost the basketball game to the Escanaba Eskimos in the regional finals. Ed and I had to take the college entrance exams, (the S.A.T.), in Marquette the next day. Ed and I shared a bed. After discussing the game and the upcoming test, we turned out the light. Ed coughed, then spit. I ducked my head under the covers, when he farted. He said, “Don't hit me. That's just an old Swedish trick.”

“You're still a son-of-a bitch!”

The Johnstons were the next apartment dwellers. Myron, “Pike,” Johnston and his beautiful wife, Laura, took up residence there. “Pike” had to go to Germany to serve his time in the army, so Laura became part of our family. Laura complained to my mom that I didn't clean the tub very well. I couldn't remember cleaning it at all, so, to keep peace in the family, I added tub cleaning to my repertoire. When “Pike” returned from Germany, he hauled lumber out of the woods with a pair of Clydesdales. Then he operated the gray Inland buses to and from the quarry and Port Inland. One bus would pick up Mr. Anderson and Mr. Gunderman at the Lakeside Grocery.

Glen Johnston and his wife, Carolyn Nelson Johnson, rented the apartment for about a year. Carolyn was a beauty as well. She had been football queen a couple of years before. One day when Carolyn was about six-months pregnant, she came downstairs during breakfast time, when I was eating my usual bowl of oatmeal. She said to my mom, “When my baby is born, I'm going to feed it oatmeal every day, so it can turn out as smart as John.” There it is – validation.

The corner house had a lot of different families with different kids. Billy Allen lived there for awhile. His family was followed by Jack, “Puss gut”, Rorick's family. I didn't like Jack so much. His dog bit me when I was beating up Jack. Jack's dad ran the Studebaker dealership in town. Margaret Arrowood and her family lived there. Clyde Strassler was their milkman. He called Margaret, “Tootsie.” An indignant Margaret replied, “My name's not, “Tootsie!”

Bernard “Skeezix” Tobin lived there, as well. Doctor and Mrs. Chauvin moved in with Jimmy, Peter, Bobby and Mary Pat. The last family that I remember were the Jorgensens. Ellie was their daughter. Mrs. Jorgensen was on the Selective Service Board. When I was in college, she called my mom to tell her that the board couldn't honor my college deferment any more, so was my wife, Sally, pregnant? It turned out that Sally killed a frog, and my orders to report to Fort Wayne were rescinded.

I'll drift away from the 600 block of Arbutus. Helen McLaughlin lived on the next corner. She and Mrs. Pointer from downstate, were sisters. Mrs. Pointer had two lovely daughters, Hope and Rae. Donny was their brother. I was smitten by Hope. I ran into her at WMU years later, but the infatuation had waned. She was a sorority girl and I was a G.D.I., (an independent).

Across from Mrs McLaughlin was an empty lot, next to Weber's house. We played baseball in that lot with Bob and Fran Weber, until Ardith Nelson's uncle and aunt bought the property and built a house on it. We moved the baseball field to next to Chauvin's house on Park Avenue. Doc and Stella had purchased the St. Francis parsonage, and had it moved to Park avenue.

At the corner of the 700 block of Garden Avenue, the Eck/Ott family resided. This was too many beautiful women in one place. Lloyd Miller and I used to serenade the girls. The theme from “High Noon” was a good choice. We weren't singing to any particular girl, “Punky, Pee Wee, Janet, or Joann,” were all good choices. Kiddie-corner and down the street were the two neighborhood bad asses, Jimmy Stewart and Bob Archambeau. Fifty percent of that combination is now a friend. Down Garden Avenue to the west, were Ronny and Roberta Johnson, a good pitcher and another georges girl.

Going down the street was the Davis house, Joe and Irma, JoNell and Joey. Irma was another on of our many moms. We went out by the Big Spring, picked 6 quarts of blackberries, and brought them to Irma, who made us two blackberry pies. Good mom.

I peddled the Milwaukee Sentinel to Ivan Slough across the street from the Davis house. Ivan was in the hospital getting his plumbing repaired at the same time that I was in for my appendectomy. I puked a lot following the surgery, so they kept me in bed for two days. Ivan stopped by to see how I was doing. I told him that I was in serious pain in my gut. He said, “Start running in bed.” I did. I farted so long and so loud that, if there were ever a farting marathon, I would have won. Thank you, Ivan.

Back to the north side of Garden Avenue. Bill, “Goat” Norton lived there. He was part of our gang, until his family moved up to Terrace Avenue. Then came the McDonough's, with their kids, Ronnie, Joann, Jimmy, and Danny. Joe, the dad, would hold poker sessions in the basement with uncle Gerald “Giggles” Walstrum. It was tougher to win there, because, unlike the poker games at Radgen's house, the older guys weren't drinking. I dated Joann in the spring of my senior year. Joann was my date at the senior prom, (“Theme from a Summer Place”). Both of us had been outside on that gorgeous spring day, and got really sunburned. In all of the pictures, we were both red-faced. After the prom, I spent the night with Joann, (No, not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.) Joann and I stayed up all night watching family movies. Funny thing, all of the movies showed someone eating. It was probably because they kept the movie camera in the dining room.

I left Joann's house at 5:00 am the next morning. I walked home, washed my face, then I left for Riverview, MI. John and Mary Moffit picked me up, along with Bill Grace, to participate in mayor exchange. Riverview is down river from Detroit, so it was a long journey. I missed a lot of the trip, because I was sleeping. I represented the senior class, and Bill represented the junior class. When John and Mary went off with city officials to tour city hall, Bill and I were taken on a tour of Riverview High School. We met a quarter-miler who could run the oval in 49 seconds. We also met the student body. She lived up to her moniker. We joined the Moffits for a tour of a plant which stamped wheel rims from a sheet of steel. Impressive, but loud.

After a great lunch, we toured an Ajax missile site. They let us touch the rockets, but not the controls. With our mayor exchange duties completed, we headed north. We stopped at the giant crucifix at Indian River, then it was on the St. Ignace for a juicy steak. Thanks to the taxpayers of Manistique.

…....but I digress. The corner house on the south side of the 600 block of Arbutus belonged to Chet Rivers. Chet drove a snowplow for the State of Michigan. He got up early many a morning. The next house was Leach's, when we first arrived on Arbutus. Chucky and Elizabeth were the Leach kids. Chucky was sweet on my sister, Sandy. Following them were Jim Sangraw and his wife. Jim took over Barney's grocery when Barney retired. Jim was almost as nice as Barney.

The Burrells owned the third house from the corner when we moved to the neighborhood. One day, Pat Burrell set up a movie projector and a screen in his garage, and showed me movies of our dropping the atom bomb on Japan. Pat's dad was assigned to take movies of that horrible event, and he had kept a copy for himself. Later residents of this house were Wes and Arlene Turan. George, Anise, and Rodney Carney were in the next house. George worked as a mechanic at Lunstrom's Garage. Rodney had a sister, Anise Hinkson, who lived in Escanaba. She was pretty. When Ronnie Provo said that he had a girlfriend in Escanaba, I told him that I did too.

House number five sheltered the Woods, Mr. and Mrs. They went to our church. Next came the Johnstons. There was Eugene Sr., Marvel, Eugene, Jr., Myron, (Pike), Glen, Myrna and Milton, (Mootsie). We hung out with Myrna and “Mootsie” a lot, playing hide and seek, among other games. Grandma Malloy lived in the next house. That's how I met Pat Malloy. We traded comic books. “Bud” Ulyses Malloy, (Pat's dad), had his sign shop behind Grandma's house. “Bud” would stack up his old signs against the barn, and we kids would hide out there.

Herliks lived in the next house. There was Vic and Vickie, Johnny, Bobby, and Eddie. I'll tell you a story or two about Johnny in future publications. I think the last house on the block was DeHuts, but I don't know. I just didn't have contact with those folks.

Sorry, if I murdered your name, but I don't have any reference books with me in Florida. Let me know and I'll correct them when I get home.

Who was on your block? Write me a story.

[Coming up: “Further Adventures with Pat”, and “Elementary Sex”]