| Museum Week: Into the Record Book
This year's Museum Week began with great fanfare. Fifteen colorful, creative posters were put up on Beaver Island and in Charlevoix, most 11" x 17" but three measuring 36" x 44". The Charlevoix Courier and Petoskey News Review ran articles about it. Radio stations and two TV stations plugged it on their Community Calendars. And beaverisland.net posted the schedule (and a sound clip of the band) for viewers to download.
On Monday afternoon, Jayne Bailey opened the week-long bash with a well-attended talk on, "What Beaver Islanders Do in the Winter." She approached the subject alphabetically, alternating between generally popular activities and those in which she has a particular interest. On occasion she asked the audience for suggestions, such as at the end, when she came to "Z". One member of the audience muttered, "fight the Zoning laws," but this was below his breath and the response she accepted, to the crowd's applause, was, "catch up on your Zzzs."
The second program saw some last-minute juggling. The idea had been to invite the pre-adult musicians to perform on the Print Shop's porch. With ten days to go, Doris Larsen backed off. Sherri Timsak gave it a go, but unfortunately, many of those who had been involved in her Spring "Talent Show" were working, and the many talented visitors felt unprepared. With two days to go, Sherri couldn't find anyone. Cindy Gillespie volunteered to help, on one day's notice, and even procured the help of Kevin White. They conducted a group "sing along" for the modest but pleased audience.
The traditional adult "Music on the Porch" also had to overcome a few small problems. At 7:00 p.m. Monday evening it was learned that the sound system that had been promised by Gerald LaFreniere was unavailable; he himself was off the Island.) Luckily Bob Hamil was able to allocate an alternate system, which, by reacting with almost maniacal speed, he had operational by 8:01. Then it was learned that the School Board had called a meeting, so that some of the acts people had come to expect could not be present. A crowd at the Old Rectory also prevented Claudia from making an appearance (she more than made up for this by joining Murphy, Paige, & Smith on stage Saturday night.) But unanticipated help moseyed up, and Doris Larsen was able to present a full slate of musicians. Perhaps the most-appreciated act was Phil Lange's "Beaver Island folk songs," which addressed the idiosyncrasies of our life style.
On Tuesday, Diane Foster and well-known photographer Ken Scott arrived to sign copies of their book, Charlevoix, which has 32 pages of photos and text on Beaver Island. Ken also brought matted prints of some of his photos to sell. The initial plan was to hold this signing party in the Parish Hall, but the day was so nice that it was moved to the Print Shop Porch. Diane was prepared to give a talk about her experiences gathering material, searching for a design team and a publisher, and then fighting through the details of the printing process, but people crowded around her from the onset to meet her and buy books, so she and Ken wound up talking individually to their fans. There were two or three lulls in the stream of activity, during which they signed a few copies of their book to leave at the Museum for those who had called them to say they would be there but had been prevented from attending. She sold 20 copies of the book and two $65 prints.
At 3:00, Jim Willis and Rolly Cull showed a video and delivered a talk on Beaver Island's Commercial Fishing Business. Ernie Martin was on hand to introduce them, answer questions, and sign copies of Volume IV, which concluded with his article about his family's experiences. The presentation was well-attended, although at times noise from the Parish Hall reroofing project was a mild distraction.
On Tuesday evening, Alvin LaFreniere introduced Tribal leader Frank Ettawageshik, who addressed a nearly-packed house. He opened (and closed) with a Native American song. A man of many talents (from national politician to artist and teacher), he decided to illustrate the importance of family in Native American culture by talking about his own ancestors. He described the life and times of his father, grandfather, great grandfather, and great great grandfather, citing some of the challenges they faced and the wisdom of the strategies they chose (in particular, when facing government-mandated transportations) -- which resulted in his people having the presence in Michigan that they enjoy today. Frank might say that one of the things he does best is tell stories, and he told some about Native American folklore that held the audience spellbound. Afterwards, he was besieged with questions, not all of which there was time to answer. When he finally concluded his talk, he was saluted with a rousing round of applause.
On Wednesday morning, the first of the sold-out Nature Walks departed from CMU. A few people gathered at the Print Shop for prearranged rides. The Walk was interesting and informative, as always, and everyone came away with fresh insight. The next two mornings, the "Nature Walk for Kids" was completely sold-out.
The four-day Art Show opened at noon in the School Gym's foyer. Paintings, carvings, varnished mounted driftwood, polished stone assemblies, prints, and jewelry by such Island artists as Ray Denny, Bruce Struik, Cindy Ricksgers, Mary Blocksma, Kay Masini, Katy Bonesteel, Margaret Reibel, Mary Scholl, Ed Casper, and several others were on display, as well as a Native American model by Sheryl Padgorski. There had been a discussion beforehand about whether or not to open the show to non-Island artists, such as those who place work in the Charlevoix Art Fair. As it turned out, local artists completely filled the available space.
The Protar House was open Wednesday (and Saturday) afternoons, with Dorothy Chichester and Antje Price present to answer questions. Dozens of people stopped by. Each year it takes more and more effort to get this aging structure ready for the public, and once again an off-season minor construction project is being organized, primarily to repair windows and the porch. The continuing interest in this man's caring and meditative life justifies the expenditure.
Bill McDonough spoke on Wednesday afternoon about the sequence of events leading up to the new Emerald Isle arriving as our ferry. He began with the events of the early eighties, in which the "renegade South-African newspaperman/financier" (as he was called at the time) bought control of the Boat Company, emptied its bank account, let service diminish, and threatened to sell off the assets so that Beaver Island would be left with no boat. Thanks to Billy (and Ed Wojan) the Boat Company was saved, but as Beaver Island's popularity grew, it became apparent that a new ferry was needed. The real story of the political maneuvering, hard work, and lucky breaks that produced the Emerald Isle corrected some of the inaccurate gossip that has become so prevalent. The audience was equally interested to hear about some of the anomalies of its operation (such as the inexplicable "drift" that occurs a mile outside the harbor, and how the particular cargo on the Beaver Islander always affected the compass heading in unpredictable ways) and the plans to expand the service, possibly by including runs next summer to Manistique. The reroofing project was a minor distraction.
That evening, Phil Gregg presented his always-popular talk and slide show on the changes that have occurred to Beaver Island during his forty years here. Marilyn Clark opened for him with a discussion of the plans to convert the old Dockside Market ("If we don't have it, you don't need it.") into a Community Center. She had diagram boards and a model, and mentioned the first large grant to have been acquired (upwards of $75,000), which her Board feels will "prime the pump" and lead to several others.
Phil was very well received. A natural speaker and storyteller (the following Tuesday he was selected by Lynx Productions to appear on camera for the film, Mysterious Islands of the Great Lakes), he was able to see the wry side of such occurrences as a record snowstorm and the ice heavings of his dock. As time marches on, it becomes ever more poignant to see him and his family as they were when they moved here in the late fifties. He also paid tribute to Walker Hill, his long-time partner who was in attendance with his two daughters from California.
The next afternoon, Jim Gillingham and his assistants appeared before a packed house of excited children and adults to talk about reptiles and amphibians. Floss Frank set the stage with an enthusiastic introduction. His booming voice reduced the reroofing noise to an inconsequential part of the background. As he spoke, his assistants toured the audience, holding live specimens. No one objected to the immense frogs, but a half dozen spectators grabbed a little fresh air when the snakes were carried down the aisles -- all of these phobics were adults.
At 3:00, BIHS member Jim Combs (from Lexington) introduced Clare Adkin Jr. (from Durham) to speak on the subject that first became his obsession when he went to work on his Master's Thesis over twenty-five years ago. Clare lived in Benton Harbor for some time, and got to know many of the survivors of the Israelite community. His polished talk about their life on High Island was a mixture of anecdote (gleaned from conversation) and fact. After a question-and-answer period, he signed copies of his book, King Ben, which was on sale, as well as Volume IV of The Journal of Beaver Island History, for which he wrote an article.
Thursday evening held a talk and slide show on the Lighthouses of the Beaver Archipelago by Steve Harold, curator of the Manistee Museum, introduced by John Runberg. Steve related anecdotes about Lighthouses on the Foxes and the Manitous, and about Lansing Shoals and Squaw Island, and spoke extensively about the history of Beaver Islands two Lights. He told the story of the Beaver Head Light being built on the wrong land, and how often their dock (which they needed for fueling the light) washed out in the days before roads and electricity. He went into the poor construction of the Whiskey Harbor Light, and the sequence of governmental agencies that played a role in this vital operation.
On Friday afternoon, Jim Mullin-Norgaard delivered two presentations on Celtic History. In the first, he discussed his belief in the timeliness of an ancient world view he calls "the Celtic Spirit," which has been in retreat since the days of the Greco-Roman Empire. He has researched the tribes that lived beyond the advancing circle of rational civilization --the Celts-- and described the beliefs they had in common: a respect for the earth's natural endowment; an understanding of the vital role women should play in guiding a community; an acceptance of the body as being of equal value to (and not to be disconnected from) the mind; and a willingness to trust the apparently irrational and non-linear urgings of the heart.
His second show, introduced with aplomb by JoAnne Cashman, was about his visits to Celtic sites in Ireland, England, and Europe. (He has found the same approach to life in Native American culture, and has delved into its roots and current practices.) He believes that Beaver Island is developing the same energy of which he found traces (perhaps because of our Celtic origins; or perhaps because of our apposition to the mainland, and consequently to the mainstream.) Some of those present were surprised to hear his view, but for others it rang true, and they signed up for the "Beaver Island Pilgrimage" he will be conducting in late August.
Friday evening had been reserved for Keewaydinoquay, but all spring there were questions about her health. At 84, she was in bad shape, and one report claimed she might not survive. Dr. John Boatman, from the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee's Native American Studies program was asked to stand by in case she could not attend, and that proved to be the case. There was some controversy about who should take her place, and it was decided that the ethnobotanist Lee Olsen (whom she recommended) should share the stage.
Lee Olsen, introduced by Alvin LaFreniere, spoke first. He had spent the day gathering samples of the plants he intended to discuss, and had them arranged on two tables in front of the packed room (we had to set up more chairs to accommodate everyone.) He divided them into groups based on their chemical make-up, listed their uses, and discussed variations. He referred to thirteen particular studies of the medicinal uses of plants in particular tribes, and then identified the plants found in multiple investigations (for example, one plant was called "thirteen fold" because all thirteen of these tribes used it; another was called "six fold" because only six tribes were aware of its properties.) A dozen hands shot up when questions were allowed. Lee answered them all intelligently, which brought a fresh flurry of hands. Eventually he realized he had gone past his self-determined time limit, and turned the floor over to his friend.
Dr. Boatman took a deep breath and began an energetic, mesmerizing monologue on "The View from Garden Island" that captivated the audience -- although at times some of those present wondered if they were really hearing what was being said. For years, Dr. Boatman has been bringing his students to Garden Island, and has developed the ability to see the world from its perspective. He wanted to talk about "The Sleeping Sisters," the stone circle below Beaver Island's bluff about which there is some archaeological controversy: is it an artifact to rival Stonehenge, or is it an accidental glacial deposit? When he arrived on Beaver this year, he discovered that the "center stone" had been hit by a plow and damaged: a large crack now runs through it. This became the dominant image of his talk.
He began by mentioning that he had stopped to visit Kee on his way to Beaver Island to obtain her blessing. Then he began to relate Native American folk legends that, to the audience's surprise, involved visits by aliens in flying saucer-like craft. The singed earth, the circle of fire, and the transportation of Native Americans to another star system (Arcturus was named) echoed our stone circle, with the charred ground found underneath the stones: was our circle, he seemed to ask, not so much a method of predicting the equinox as a map to where these visitors had come from and gone? There was more: another folk tale had it that these (or other) visitors from the stars felt that the stubborn and backwards humans had some potential, but they needed guidance. Consequently, some of these strange beings remained -- not to tell us things directly, to which we would not take kindly, but to hover on the edge of our vision, to offer symbolic clues, available only to the most persistent seeker. These little people (harkening to Professor Norgaard's mention earlier in the day of the "wee people" of Celtic legend), these creatures of light, could at rare times be seen dancing at special, magic places: the shores of High Island, Garden, and even Beaver. When asked later if he had ever seen them himself, Dr. Boatman answered forcefully in the affirmative. "The view from Garden Island," he concluded, "is that you on Beaver have a treasure so vast it defies description, but that there is a danger you will be so caught up in the economic pursuit of development that you will miss the chance to avail yourself of what it offers. Cracking the center stone should be seen as a warning: proceed with caution, or you will miss this opportunity to acquire some true wisdom. Any questions or comments?" When he concluded this way, the audience was momentarily stunned.
It took them a moment to free themselves from the spell of his rhetoric; once they had, the questions began to appear. He answered them for another half hour, but for many, his talk was such a surprise that they needed much more time to digest its broad implications. The following day, opinion was divided: some felt this had been a unique and insightful presentation, but others thought it was over the top, too fanciful, speculative, and far-fetched. In either case, it would be fair to say that he had provided us with an unusual degree of food for thought.
Saturday's 16th Annual Pet Show was such a hit with the kids that those who didn't have any pets improvised, dressing up as animals themselves or bringing, as a girl from Texas did, their animal-like Beanie Babies. Eric Albin brought the cedar waxwing he's been nursing back to health. Hammy the Hamster was there. A cat won the title of "Pet with the most beautiful eyes," of course. There were several dogs, one of which was awarded a certificate for "Best Dressed" because of its bandana. There was a snake, and it didn't eat the frog or the toad. Even a stuffed animal made an appearance.
The evening concert was quite a success. Rich Gillespie MC'd, introducing the opening act, his good friend Barry Pischner, who sang four of his songs as people were still filing in. Then the band came on, Murphy, Paige, & Smith, with Tommy O'Haloran on the accordion. Tommy took a song to figure out the acoustics, which were different than in Dublin, where he'd played last, and then provided a beautiful sea of sound on which the other instruments, the guitars, mandolin, banjo, and various drums, floated to weave a rich harmony. Almost immediately dancers began spinning in the aisle. The band did its best to pop the roofing nails John McCafferty had so recently and so carefully nailed in, but the next morning the shingles had not slid to the ground.
During the intermission, the Talking Threads Quilting Guild sold the last few of its tickets and then asked a member of the band (the only one present not related to one of the hopeful chance-buyers) to pull out the winner. The collective breath was held as he rolled up his sleeve and dipped his talented fingers into the outstretched jar, and pulled out the name of Skip McDonough. The ladies of the Quilt Guild rushed over to wake her up and tell her the news. She was a fitting winner, having just that day sent the BIHS a $50-bill and a note, "Wish I could have been there for all of your events."
During its second set, Cindy Gillespie was called on stage to sing two songs in her powerful, liquid smooth voice. Then Claudia Schmidt was able to steal a break from the hectic pace of the Old Rectory and lead the band in "Shanendoah," which brought tears to some eyes.
This concert served as the "Release Party" for the band's first CD, which had been advertised on the radio and the internet (beaverisland.net) and was for sale. Their CD opened with a stirring number, The Barley Corn, and this was the powerful song with which they closed. Nobody wanted to leave, but everything must end and so leave they finally did. The word the next day was that most attendees had fallen asleep that night the moment their head touched their pillow.
During the festivities, large numbers of people also toured the Museums. Several became members of the Historical Society (during this week, membership grew from 14% over last year's to 19% over), and book sales, particularly of Volume IV, were brisk. In addition, chapters were offered for Volume V, due out next year, and long-promised manuscripts on such topics as the Indians of the Beaver Archipelago were presented to the Historical Society for publication. |
