It was just that way one spring night a few years after World War II ended.
A fierce ground hugging tornado sped across Granddad's land including the waterfront, toppling several yellow pine, decorative pine and weeping willow trees and even ripping the porch clear off my parents small cottage.
The pines laying nearly on their side sprouted branches growing skyward. About a year later my father righted some of the yellow pine trees with a huge block and tackle tied to Granddad's 1947 Dodge using a very long one inch diameter manila hemp rope. Today some of the pines still stand, one with a loop in its trunk where it grew skyward.
But three of the tall decorative spruce by the boathouse were gone forever as well as the peach and plum trees at the base of the steps that led down to our family dock.
Also some other trees were far far too big to be righted. Among those were several weeping willows along the waterfront just north of our dock.
These water fed giant willows had been planted 25 or so years before and two of them had toppled over into the lake. One beside our neighbor Rockwell's house and their dock, the other stretching outward into the lake along our dock.
Luckily the willow that stood at the end of our dock was somewhat smaller (Granddad had trans planted it there in 1938) and it wasn’t so severely damaged.
Over the months and years with saws and axes we slowly hacked, chopped and slowly cut away portions of the 2 giant willows extending out into the water. Meantime the bases of the two fallen willow trees had or were rotting near their roots, some of which were exposed and pointing upward.
One hot August day my Uncle Howard Haller showed us kids how to dig the grubs out of the rotting wood, telling us they could be used as great fishing bait.
Uncle Howard had been the target of my mothers and some of my Aunts unending gossip and criticism for years.
Somehow in their one time affluent pampered sadly spoiled perception Howard was too lazy and didn't work nearly hard enough. Somehow, to them at least, he was simply not ‘good enough’ for my Aunt Hazel (who I never ever heard complain).
In reality Howard had an illness called narcolepsy and tended to occasionally drowse off.
But to us kids he was the greatest. In fact, he was one of the only two uncles that ever took me (and my cousins fishing) and showed us how to really catch fish. When I think about it, not even my own father took me fishing although he spent a great deal of time fishing.
So with our tin cans full of squirming grubs and our homemade twelve foot long bamboo fishing poles, we climbed in the boat and Howard slowly rowed out to 'his favorite fishing spot’ repeatedly warning us 'not to tell anyone about this secret location'.
Photo: Looking north from our Dock about 1952. The white boat in the foreground is parked about where Howard found all the fish.
Sure enough, as fast as we adjusted the corks and splashed the grub baited hooks into the lake we had a perch or rock bass hooked and flying into the boat. We happily threw lines and yanked those poles for hours.
I don’t know if there was a limit on fish caught by kids in those days, but if there was, I bet we were over it. But then, ours was a large family, and the fish would be gone in one meal.
Howard entertained us by teasing us and telling humorous stories as we pulled in more and more and more fish. Then he helped us clean them on Granddad’s old fish cleaning log next to the chicken coop in the apple orchard.
Never had so much fun fishing in my life as those days with Uncle Howard. An incredibly kind and patient man with us kids, languishing in a not yet understood illness, condemned by his sisters in law's as the 'laziest man on earth' but very much loved and appreciated by us kids.
Howard had married Hazel, my Grandfather's oldest daughter (of five daughters) in 1930, but they rarely came to the lake after the war ended. But when he did we'd run to meet him and his old black La Salle which he bought used from Granddad in 1947.
Hazel and Howard had a somewhat hard time but they did a really great job raising three fine kids.
Combined, on both sides of my family, I had eleven uncles, not including great uncles. Howard was one of my favorites.
The fallen willow trees are completely gone now but I'll always remember Uncle Howard with a special fondness .
His warmth, kindness and patience with all of us kids stands
very strong and has a special place in my memories.
