Snowmobiling Little Bass Lake

Sometimes the smaller Little Bass Lake takes a back seat to its older brother, Big Bass Lake, yet it too has its own charm and fun things to do upon it. Yet snowmobilers are running out of time this year to practice their art and speed upon it. Soon the ice will be breaking up on both of these lakes and the snowmobiles will be put away for yet another year giving way to speed and row boats.

While one has to take notice of the five islands on Big Bass Lake, here at Little Bass Lake, that is not a problem as the whole lake stands before them. Yet I wonder how many snowmobilers test their mettle on each lake using the channel between them? Is that channel used to get to each lake or is the over the road method wider used? Care to lend a comment on that topic?

Sleeping Bear Dunes

how would you like to climb this sand dune? Better still, how would you like to run down this one on that hot sand? At least you have a cool Lake Michigan to run into. That would cool off your feet in a heartbeat. To go up that dune you’d better be in pretty good shape. But just look at the view you’d have at the top? All the colors of Lake Michigan are at your disposal.

My Dad and Goodrich

For about a year, my dad tried his hand at owning a Goodrich Tire Store in Elmhurst, Illinois. I was in the fifth grade at that time. But that basement was pure heaven to me as stacks upon stacks of tires laid before me and I was ever ready to explore them. I climbed down them and had the time of my life.

Perhaps that is why, later in life, I created a game at boys clubs called Tire Endurance where kids would have to climb in and out of five stacked tires in the quickest time possible. They needed to do that five times while being on the clock.

My dad found out that the tire business was NOT for him and after a year sold the store. He went back to his comfort zone in the printing business and his firm was just a block from Wrigley Field home of the Chicago Cubs. However, while he was a life-long Cubs fan, I rooted for the better team, the Chicago White Sox.

My dad, Adam Norris, was a genius in his printing field but tires were NOT his forte but then he had a son who loved those tires.  Oh swell, it was fun for a year!

Martin Johnson’s Camp Legacy Betrayed! Part Two

In 1976 Camp Martin Johnson celebrated its 50 anniversary and things were going quite well at that time with up to 500 campers attending CMJ and then a scant four years later it was sold. The Hyde Park YMCA came up with these reasons:
(1) Dwindling Enrollment: That reason I find hard to comprehend given what was said a mere four years earlier.
(2) Financial Problems: Funds for transporting the kids 350 miles to camp but the problem always existed. They also cited stiff and rising real estate taxes as well as strict Michigan Building Codes. Yet these all existed in previous years too.
(3) Too expensive to Operate. A slight raise in fees would have solved that problem.
Four years earlier NONE of these were mentioned as problems. Mike Reynolds has informed me that schools in Ludington and Scottville often rented the camp for various purposes in the off season and that was additional income. The Hyde Park YMCA also gave an alternative option of using Pinewood Camp in that area but would not that camp have the same financial problems? The real culprit in all this was the Chicago Metropolitan YMCA which had the final say on CMJ.
Initially, in 1926 the camp was sold by Martin Johnson himself for the fee of $9,000 of which he was to receive a 6% annual annuity of about $545. Johnson’s lawyer urged him to sell the camp to the YMCA for $50,000. But Johnson had a God inspired vision for his property to be used by boys and girls for camping. He was also to retain his personal house to live in at the camp. His dream became a nightmare when the Metro YMCA saw the chance to financially benefit from that property. Johnson had earlier stated in his history that initially the movers and shakers of Lake County, Michigan, have also become greedy in their quest for timber and now the same greediness had reared its ugly head again!
If the camp was in financial distress, why not sell some of the land off of Bluegill Lake or even Little Bass Lake to pay for the taxes and upkeep while retaining the main camp area around Big Bass Lake?
I would also be interested to learn about the will of Martin Johnson and if it allowed selling the camp for any reason. Did the Hyde Park YMCA make every effort to try and sell the camp to another YMCA, perhaps in Michigan, or even a Boys Club of America organization? Perhaps the Detroit Boys Clubs might have been interested? I would like to know how diligent the Hyde Park staff were in trying to keep the camp with another youth organization. Or what steps were taken by the Chicago Metro YMCA to connect with other youth organizations in Michigan?
Why not also raise camper’s fees slightly to attend camp or add a gasoline fee? I do believe that if Hyde Park had tried to just sell parcels of land on Little Bass and Bluegill Lakes they could have kept operating Camp Martin Johnson for several more years if not much longer.
I also don’t buy that dwindling attendance argument as in 1976 the camp was full of over 500 campers for their 50 year anniversary. And, what about Martin Johnson’s will? It was his vision for this property to remain a camp for kids even if those kids were no longer from the Hyde Park YMCA.
No, I think the Hyde Park YMCA took the easy way out and destroyed not only a man’s dream but also the dreams of countless campers that could have enjoyed this camp for decades to come. Now the area is full of residential mansions and even the boulder over Martin Johnson’s grave has no marker to it. One would think that something could be done about that for a man with such a vision as Martin Johnson. Perhaps his gravesite could be moved to the property or the Camp Martin Johnson Heritage Museum in nearby Irons, Michigan?
It just doesn’t seem right that Martin Johnson’s dream of a youth camp has now been turned into an area for luxury homes known as the Heritage Bay Development Company. Johnson had an alternate “heritage” in mind for his beloved property whose vision has now become non-existent.
Perhaps one day Four Winds Island could be purchased from its present owner for use for a wilderness camp as many of CMJ’s structures are still intact yet today? In that way, Martin Johnson’s heritage could still live on into perpetuity in some manner.

Martin Johnson’s Camp Legacy Betrayed!- Part One

This two part series will highlight the beginnings of the dream that Martin Johnson had for his beloved land on Big Bass Lake and speak also of the faith of the man.

Condensed from Martin Johnson’s History

I struck out across the country to find Bass Lake or the Saubel Lakes. I found the Saubel Lakes in the afternoon and next day brought the young man, Herbert Bromen, and we camped a few days until I got our supplies packed in. At that time lumbering operations were at their height, and Peter’s headquarters were at Saubel Lakes, with a crew of 100 men. In a few days, we moved to Loon Lake, where we camped the rest of the summer. At that time Loon Lake was surrounded with virgin pine which was in its beauty, wonderfully majestic, the tall dark forest for miles around darkly solemn.

After we were well settled at Loon Lake I started to find Big Bass Lake. In this oak and pine forest it was pretty thick and dark; one could not see far ahead but I finally found it. I came to where the school house now stands and started to walk around the lake, but I could not see more than a small part of it at any time. I did not know that the lake was as big as it proved to be.

I could see the north part of the lake and some of the land I had seen when I first struck the lake, which proved to be islands. I sat down on a fallen tree to meditate and realized that this was the place I had been dreaming about all the time. In the fall of 1893 I put up a little log cabin and stayed all winter and did some chopping and clearing way of brush around the cabin where I intended to build my house.

In January, 1901, I said goodbye to civilization and came up to my little cabin and began to cut timber for my house. The snow was deep and the weather was bad, and it took me until March before I had enough material for the house. Before the ice went out I hired a man with a team to haul logs and poles to the place where I wanted to build. Afterwards I hired the same man to help me hew the logs. It took me all summer to build, as I worked mostly alone and as everything had to be made with the ax.
It is work that invigorates and gives one a good appetite. I think working in the open and learning the smell of smoke has added very much to my health and strength, as I was not nearly as strong when I first came as afterwards. The work was so slow that it did not look as if I would ever make any headway. If timber was as scarce as it is now the lumbermen would have taken all of it and my work would have been less, but then I would not have had anything handy to build with.
The third year I bought a team of horses and commenced to plow among the stumps. It was discouraging work; the plow caught in the roots and snags and I would have to pull and tug and the next minute would be caught again. So it was all the while I kept on clearing. I generally put in from 12 to 18 hours a day, and was many times discouraged but kept at it. If it had not been for this beautiful lake I could not have endured it, as many times I felt like giving up and would sit down and watch the water and shadows and reflections, and think and dream; then I would get at it again. I really never felt I wanted to give up and quite, so little by little the place was cleared.
People that have to be alone lose their reason in a short time they said. But I felt that I could because it was my calling, and if God sent me he would go with me. I can do all things with God in whom I live and move and have my being. The trouble with some people is that they have lost track of a personal God. The deeper things of God are revealed to man by the spirit of God.
Many people have given up the idea of a personal God because they can not work him out by an intellectual process. Can they by any such process help us to understand two of the oldest and most elemental mysteries, the mysteries of time and space? Can they make clear to us how time can be without beginning and end? They cannot. Nothing seems to have been put inside the skull of man that makes it possible for him to understand these mysteries. God has to be taken on faith, a faith that is grounded in instinct and reinforced by experience and common sense. God cannot be proved like a mathematical formula. One of the needs of our time is to have the simple faith of our fathers poured into a twentieth century mold. We feel the old fashioned religion dressed in a free and flowing robe and not in a straight jacket in which bigots would be encased. We need more sincerity, more simplicity, more tolerance, more reverence, and less smugness. We need more people who can say, “Our Father Who Art in Heaven” and really believe it.
I can’t understand how anyone can be lonesome in this beautiful place. It is God’s country. I see his wonders every day. But I pity those who have Nature for their God because although Nature is great and wonderful in its greatness and its beauty and majesty, Nature is cold and cruel Nature can teach us many things about God. It can teach us that he is a great and all powerful and noble father, but Nature can’t teach us all we need to know and what we know it is necessary to know about him, namely, that God is love.
At this time the lakes were full of fish and I could have all the fish I wanted without spending much time. I did not see a boat on the lake for years as the roads were not in condition so that people could get here easily and there were no cars. And so I lived on fish and potatoes, and would have fish and potatoes for dinner and potatoes and fish for supper. I lived cheaply and simply but well at the same time.

I had an awful time with rheumatism in my left hip which was so bad I could not rest night or day. It was no use to lie down; I could not lie down for five minutes and had to sit up for two weeks. Some times when I was completely worn out I would fall asleep for a while and wake up and feel as if I were on fire but I finally got well. Suffering does not spoil our lives it only raises us to a higher altitude, bringing us nearer to one another and nearer to God.
When I built my house I built a sky light in the roof against the time when I could do some painting again. I knew I would not have any time to paint for a number of years but I had a good opportunity to study the beautiful things of nature and at the same time find that although I have not handled a brush for more than a quarter of a century I have not lost anything but gained much if my eyes and mind were always on the beautiful things in nature. Of course, the hands became stiff and hard, and it required a little time to get them broke in again, but they would soon limber up and respond to ones will when I quit using them for hard labor.

One day I heard a most wonderful song of peace, it was like a choir of thousands of angels singing praises to God. The sound seemed to come from the skies in a southeasterly direction and every note had a beautiful color like the color of the rainbow that increased and diminished in volume as the sound increased or diminished. It was wonderful, at times soft and gentle and at times like the sound of many waters and indescribable. Most of this time I was travelling through space with beautiful lakes and rivers, and all things were perfect. All the waters were so very pure and clear.
From the day I heard this beautiful and wonderful song I commenced to get better and could soon sleep. After that I recovered fast, and in a few days felt better than ever, although I was weak. Although I believe God has something to do with this I don’t claim anything supernatural about it. After I got well I set to work to clear it up so that I could explain it to my own satisfaction. I always loved music and had in my soul the subjective starting point, also perhaps the birds singing and my imagination doing the rest. As for the colors, I know there were tears in my eyes as I looked in a southeasterly direction, having the sun on a slant I saw the colors of the rainbow and my imagination did the rest. The curve of the eye lid gave it the circle shape of the rainbow across the sky for a background. What wonderful gifts the Lord has given us, especially our imagination; but how often do people misuse and abuse this great gift by letting it run wild and on unworthy things.
In 1923, Mr. Ralph Cooke and a committee representing the Young Men’s Christian Association in Chicago came and looked the place over and wanted it for a summer camp for boys, and they wanted the whole place. Then I knew what I had been working for. I was willing to sell the place for very much less than I had been offered, but I finally made up my mind to take a life lease on the point where my house stands and give the Young Men’s Christian Association the whole thing. I took an annuity sufficient to keep me as long I live and when I pass away they will have it all. And now may the good Lord bless “Y” work here and may all the boys and all who come here be blessed. God grant that these boys may grow up and attain strong, clean, healthy manhood.
The world has need of strong Christian men, more now than ever before. What a blessed thing it is for boys to get away from the city where there is so much noise and so much that is misleading. So much deceit, shame, and temptation, and to be able to get out to God’s country where they can be nearer HIm and see more of truth and less of untruth and evil. May the beautiful things that they have a chance to see here in this wonderful place inspire them. May it inspire them to a love for God and humanity and all that is beautiful and noble and true. What a happy world it would be if from sin and unbelief people would turn to God and praise him for his wonderful works with the children of men. Most people are like the bees and grub worms, they live for today and tomorrow without desire for the deeper, broader, higher, and fuller life. The life they are living is not worth being called life; it is only existence.
Part Two on the Betrayal of Camp Martin Johnson

The Guiding Light

I personally don’t care much for  sailing especially in Lake Michigan. The waves are too unpredictable. But here you can see in the lone  sailboat it’s Unique Guiding Light. And what a light! My wife Darlene would love this picture. I hope you do as well.

The Hard Rock Bottom of Shanty Creek

for the moment, examine the top of shanty Falls. If You observe closely, you can see a hard rock bottom of the creek. That extends about 200 yards further back from the falls. I have walked that bottom of Shanty Creek during a time of low water often. That sure beats a Muddy Bottom. That makes a walk easy on that kind of surface. The Marion YMCA took many trips here with me and they were always astounded as to the hard rock bottom of the creek. We finished our walk just above the falls and then make our way down to the bottom. And this is what we saw at that point. if you look closely here you can observe some of that shale at the bottom of the Falls. Aside from everything else that Shanty Falls has to offer, that hard rock bottom of Shanty Creek is something else to observe firsthand.

Camp Martin Johnson Heritage Museum Needs Your Help

June 1, 2018

 

To:                   All Camp Martin Johnson Alumni

From:              Tom Curtin, Jr.
                        President
                        Martin Johnson Heritage Museum

             My involvement with Camp Martin Johnson (CMJ) began in 1951 when my father (Tom Curtin Sr.) became camp director.  That fortunate turn of events allowed me to spend the first six years of my life at Bi gBas sLake, giving me a somewhat unique perspective on CMJ.  Dad was eventually transferred and in the 1960’s I returned and spent the next few years as a camper, Counselor In Training (CIT), and Assistant Trip Director, completing my CMJ experience.   

            The developers who purchased Camp from the Hyde Park YMCA felt that Martin Johnson’s house was a liability to their plans and needed to be torn down.  A group of seven women who lived on or around Big Bass Lake stepped up and raised the money necessary to have the house moved to Skinner Park in Irons,Michigan in 1989.  It was placed on a forest plot planted in the 1930’s by the Civil Conservation Corp (CCC). The house was donated to the Irons Area Tourist Association (IATA) and opened to the public as a museum.  The Museum was operated by a separate Board of Directors known then as the Heritage Park Council who completed the initial renovation. 

            I joined the Board of Directors when I retired and moved back full time toLake County,Michigan, and was elected President a year later.  Since then we have worked to improve the Museum exhibits and most importantly to incorporate as a 501(c) 3 non-profit organization.  The name of the now separate organization is the Martin Johnson Heritage Museum (MJHM).  Over the last 2 years I have worked to negotiate the transfer of the deed for the house to our organization.  During the summer of 2010, MJHM took ownership of the Martin Johnson house along with the 2 ½ acres of property where it stands.

            Although CMJ as a place no longer exists, the home of the man who made CMJ possible still stands as a touchstone to our own personal version of Camelot.  It is open for all to wander through and remember what Camp meant to us then and still means to us today.  A number of artifacts from Camp and Martin Johnson’s life have been acquired and are on display. 

            We have accomplished much since the house was saved from the wrecking ball, but there is still much more to be done.  We are actively tracking down more paintings and photographs by Martin Johnson to add to the collection that is currently housed in the Museum.  We are also working to obtain the original stockades that formed the entrance to Camp and are trying to locate one of the CMJ cabins that we could move to the site.  A number of photographs, including some from the “old CMJ website” are on display in the Museum, but additional pictures depicting camp life and other CMJ memorabilia would be appreciated.  The attached mini photographic summary of the Museum will give you an idea of what has been accomplished and is on display to date.  

Currently there are no utilities run to either of the structures.  Electrical service and heat in the buildings would allow us to better serve the public.  Several of Johnson’s paintings need conservation.  And, there is always continuing maintenance to be done, insurance to pay, etc.  We have many items identified on our short and long term plans.

            The Museum needs your help to continue to grow and expand.  One of our long term goals is to raise funds for an endowment to ensure that the Museum continues in perpetuity.  I feel it is important that our grandchildren and great grandchildren are given the opportunity to visit the Museum, not only to get a sense of how we became who we are, but to also gain a historical perspective of a man who was a true pioneer in Northern Michigan. 

            TheMartin Johnson Heritage Museum is funded solely by membership dues, donations and grants.  I would hope that you would consider becoming a member and possibly send along an additional donation.  It is only with your help that can we continue to preserve this last tangible piece of Camp Martin Johnson.

MEMBERSHIP LEVELS 

“CAMPER” One Year Membership Single – $30.00
“COUNSELOR” One Year Membership Family – $50.00
“PROGRAM DIRECTOR” One Year Membership Sponsor – $100.00
“CAMP DIRECTOR” Life Membership – $500.00

And, most important – come and visit us!   Museum hours currently are Saturday afternoons from Noon to 3:00 p.m. in July and August, or by appointment by calling me at (231) 745-8505.

|            Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions you may have, either by phone at (231) 745-8505, E-mail at lumberjacklodge@msn.com, or US Mail atP.O. Box 363,Baldwin,MI 49304.  

 Sincerely,

        Tom Curtin

Tom Curtin, Jr.
President
Martin Johnson Heritage Museum