For me taking the South Shore Line from Oak Park area to Tower Hill Camp was a great ride. The camp is located in Sawyer Michigan right on Lake Michigan. It was associated with the First Congregational Church of Oak Park.
This was the camp office and dining room and the food of this camp was fantastic. For a kid they have great desserts. I was in a cottage group with a counselor and four other boys.
A great selling point of this camp was Lake Michigan. I will have more to say on this in part 2.
Once per trip two of the older boys liked to campout by themselves just off the old logging trail about a quarter of a mile in from Noreika Road. A tent was erected with stipulations that no fire be built in that area. The test, if you will, was for a one nighter by themselves in the forest.
Rarely, if ever, did the kids venture outside that tent once it was erected until the next morning. Somtime during the night I would check them out but not to scare them. I instead wanted to make sure they were okay. I didn’t have to worry about scaring them by way of the evidence that the boys never left their tent.
The older boys always like the concept of taking on the woods by themselves only they never really allowed themselves the opportunity to do so as I can’t remember any of them venturng out of the tent once I initially left the area. The darkenss and stillness of the forest always kept them inside. Still each twosome did manage to spend the whole night but were most eager for me to gather them up in the morning to rejoin the others at the wooded beachfront for breakfast.
Oh, for that lone camping experience!?
I enjoyed walking the tree-lined hilly shoreline from Big Bass Lake Road to about one hundred yards north of our barn. The trees concealed much of Big Bass Lake from the very beginning as I walked northward. I would cross our farm field and then past our orchard. In those days, our new cottage was not yet built so I passed that location and moved just behind our old cabin. Even closer to my position was the two room cottage which stood just above the trail that led down to our pier.
From that point northward I entered our forest which continued to lead me above our tree-lined hillside. After about 100 yards it gave way to another field which led to the Matson’s property that my grandparents had sold to them. All the way to that point, though, was that tree-lined hillside. Now, sadly, much of that hillside is gone as new cottages have graded all the way down to Big Bass Lake taking many of those trees with it.
Even our new cottage was greatly concealed from boaters on Big Bass Lake by the many trees that lined that hillside. Through our several windows in the dining room, we could make out boaters speeding by or even those that were casually fishing just below us. They could make out the cottage but little else.
There was even a trail from just below our new cottage all the way to Big Bass Lake Road along the shoreline of Big Bass Lake down that tree filled hillside. I often took that back from our mailbox at Big Bass Lake Road. It was a great walk with a fantastic view of the lake.
This is what you would see as you enter the new gymnasium from the outside doors. They also connect in the central part of the gym to the second gymnasium. They have a concession stand in between the buildings.
On one side of the entryway is a trophy case or promotional case. It contains certain Awards and news events along with clothing of the boys club.
This is what you would see when leaving the gymnasium to the outside parking lot. I can Envision one day a refreshment stand to one side of the entryway. I don’t have more of the new gymnasium in a future post.
my grandmother enjoyed old things and was heartbroken when the old Cottage was torn down. It had been her home since coming from Lithuania. My aunt couldn’t wait to move into the new Cottage. My grandmother missed her old kitchen and so did I. She slept on the second floor among bats. These bats are not Louisville Sluggers. It is hard to understand grandmothers. Aside from her kitchen argument everything else about the new Cottage was much better. The bed was sure softer . But to my grandmother that first cabin was her only true home . She never came to accept the new one .
First night imagination was great on any camping trip and with the Marion Boys Club it was no exception. The imagination starts to flare up after the evening campfire as the embers provide little light. Now and then the boys would hear sounds coming from Big Bass Lake that they could not identify. Add to that, the evening campfire spoke of a monster lurking beneath the darkness of the waters.
Then every sound the boys heard was amplified according to each of their vivid imaginations. Calvin Little heard what he thought was a splash in the water so he headed right for his tent. One boy was sitting on the portable potty and a nut fell on his head and he thought the sky was falling.
Then there was Kenny Huffman who thought he saw something surfacing out in Big Bass Lake while he was soaking his feet in the lake. He quickly withdrew to his tent. I often wondered how the boys could think that a canvas tent would protect them from their imagined monsters? Even the croak of a frog sent boys scattering in every direction in the thick darkness.
Of course, when offered, no one wanted to go rowing that evening. I sometimes wondered what those frogs, squirrels, and other living creatures thought about how those great big boys were so frightened by them? I think I know now what creature comforts means. Or to be a boy again with all that imagination!
Big Bass Lake & Beyond 