Today is Trout Creek Day

Part 1

Memorial Day, the 4th of July and Labor Day were picnic days. Those who could came from Chicago, Detroit, Trout Creek, and Minnesota. I loved being able to sleep on the floor at Grandma's, along with the men. The women all slept together or got the couch. We did the same thing when many were at Trout Creek at the same time and I got the living room floor or the couch. The men slept upstairs.

Uncle Dave and Aunt Doris lived in Negaunee about 6 months when Dave worked in the mine.  He didn't like working in the mine and Mr. Weidman gave him his job back. They had plenty of visiting relatives in Trout Creek and so many of us have wonderful memories of Trout Creek. For many of us, it was like a second home!

One time we had a big dinner with lots of relatives in Trout Creek, Davey and I were told we had to do the dishes. Aunt Doris had a whole collection of  Autumn Leaf dishes sold by Jewel Tea. Davey was washing the dishes, and I was wiping – I think I stacked some dishes on top of the refrigerator – and many plates and saucers were broken. I don’t think we were ever asked to wash dishes at a large gathering of the relatives again.

Aunt Doris telling jokes, laughing so hard by the time she came to the end she could hardly talk. And how often she told me "Smile -- it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile!"

The breakfasts that Aunt Doris made when the men came in from fishing -- fresh caught and fried brook trout, potatoes, eggs, fresh baked bread or cinnamon rolls (all cooked on her wood stove) and orange juice.  If I close my eyes, I can still smell that wonderful breakfast.

Eugene as a toddler just beginning to talk, asking constantly “What’s ‘at?” “What’s ‘at?” and more “What’s ‘at?”

Davey remembers Uncle Marlin, being 9 years older, wrapped or rolled me in a heavy blanket called a "robe" with my arms at my side and wouldn't let me up.  I believe that was the 1st time I experienced "claustrophobia".  I still get that feeling in very confined spaces.  Marlin doesn't remember that.

Dad was hunting with Grandpa Lundwall on the Mallad Tower road and they saw about 15 to 20 partridge, all sitting on a log facing the same way and by the time they got out of the car, they all flew into the trees and away and they never even got one.  That's when there were a lot of birds.

I have many, many fishing and hunting memories of Uncles Bill, Ward, Marlin, Earl, Kenneth, Ray and Lloyd that are too numerous to put down, however, there are some that stand out more than others and as I reflect on them, it turns out that most are of Uncle Lloyd. These are some of them in no particular order--

The evening gatherings at our house in T.C. when all of the uncles would talk about the day's hunt - memories of a great and happy time.  Many times it would be about shooting deer out of season.  The word "violator" was commonly used many times in the discussion.  I looked forward to the times that the "Lundwall" families would come to visit, fish, hunt or whatever.  It was a very enjoyable experience.

One deer season, Uncle Lloyd found a dead buck with a nice rack in the woods and the guys put it on the car, without a tag attached, and brought it to the house.  They cut off a hind leg, but it smelled bad when fried, so they brought it back and propped it up a couple of miles outside of town.  I was at Koski's store a couple of days later and a man by the name of Ted Bessen was relating the story to someone in the store, maybe for me to hear, telling of him seeing this buck facing the road and he got out of his car and shot 7 times at it and it never moved only to find out that it was already dead and that somebody had propped it up.  I recall all of the uncles laughing about that.

The time that the uncles (when I say uncles, I don't know how many or who, except the ones in the story) went hunting after dark and uncle Bill, who was in the Army, was to shoot the deer.  After 2 very rapid shots, it was found that 2 holes were in the deer, only an inch apart.  He was an excellent marksman!

The time uncle Bill, and I don't remember who, unless it was Billie, were deer hunting east and north of T.C.  Darkness came and they still hadn't gotten out of the woods.  We fired 2 shots and he responded with 1 shot.  They came out of the woods and uncle Bill said that when the shots were fired, they were heading in wrong direction, so they turned around to get back.

The time uncle Ward, my dad, Gerald and myself were fishing at "Black Pat's".  Our vehicle was parked at the end of a dead end road in the middle of the woods and when Gerald and I started back, Gerald saw dad and uncle Ward heading up a hill in the wrong direction.   We hollered to no avail, so Gerald had to literally run and catch them.  They were going in the right direction to T.C., which was about 4 miles, but the vehicle was only 1/4 mile away, 90 degrees to the right. 

The time that the uncles would stop at Mike Silk's for a beer during partridge season and I being 15 or 16, I wanted to go hunting. Or another story at Mike Silk's.  Whatever the occasion or why my dad was wearing a tie, I don't know.  Anyway, uncle Earl cut off my dad's tie, just below the knot, with his hunting knife.

I spent a week in Hibbing at uncle Ward & Margaret's when they had a store there and I remember riding my bike up the road to look at the deep open pit mine.

Also, spent a week at uncle Lloyd & Joyce's and I had my bike.  Only remember going down Stambaugh hill and hoping the brakes would hold or else I would run into the building at the bottom.