Tuesday, September 27, 2022
My name is Sally Meyer and I grew up in the Hiawatha Location with the Johnson Family. Carol and I were in the same class and we graduated with the Stambaugh High School Class of 1964.
We had some wonderful, fun and exciting times - much of it spent in the Johnson's yard or basement. Spring meant playing jacks, marbles, or jumping rope on the pavement in front of their house. Summers were spent under the shady tree on blankets playing card games, reading comics, coloring, playing long games of Monopoly or matches of Badminton and Croquet - evenings of Kick-the-Can, Captain May I, Hide and Seek, and Tag. Sometimes trekking to Stambaugh or Iron River to watch a movie at the Perfect or Delft Theaters. At the end of summer, we would go to the Dime Store in Iron River to buy school supplies together. In the fall, a designated house was picked for our annual Halloween party and the guest house basement was the place we all met after the door-to-door begging to compare our loot, bob for apples and tell spooky stories. Winters were the times when we met to build forts, sled or skate. On cold or gray days, we would get together in someones basement to play or dress up. (We all coveted Joanne's blue skirt.) If we met at our house, we might crank up Grandpa Grailer's Victrola and play some of the old songs like "Yes, We Have No Bananas" or dance some waltz or polka. There was never a dull moment and we were very resourceful. Dress up was fun and playing school never got old.
I loved books and I had a nice collection of various books collected at the annual book sales at Couzens Grade School. Sandy played the piano well and admired a particular 'red' music book of mine. I agreed to give her the book in exchange for piano lessons. Unfortunately, this was near our parting at the Hiawatha and I only recall one lesson. Needless to say, I never learned to play.
When we were told the Location was to be dismantled, we had one last fun outing at the not-quite-finished Johnson's Camp Lake cottage. Sandy, Carol, Mary Lou Bialik, my sister Karen and I spent one long nostalgic weekend together with Aunt Billie Wisuri. We didn't sleep much but it helped us get over the shock of having to leave our childhood behind. My family moved out on M-189 and the Johnsons moved to Camp Lake. Everything changed that summer.
Sandy kindly came to pay her respects when my sister Karen's husband Carl passed away. Our friendship was rekindled and we sent notes with our annual Christmas cards. Hers was returned by the Post Office last year. My note to her - "Remember trekking across the golf course to sled on the big hill. And in summer- riding down the embankment by the Smith's house on broken down cardboard boxes. What fun!!! Sweet memories!!!"
God bless you and your memories of a wonderful lady and cherished friend.
Sally Meyer Kirkpatrick
