I really hate change...

I really hate change.

This all being said, I am changing course after putting all my effort to becoming a Medical Assistant.  

What was I thinking?

Well, I was thinking about finishing what I started many years ago. I went to college right after high school. I went to get away from home. This was successful in that I was 900 miles from home out in Allentown, Pennsylvania. This was unsuccessful because both years, someone from Benzie came with me. The first year it was Tom, now my husband but then one of the people I was trying to leave behind. The second year, Chris, another friend from my hometown, came out.

I went to college because I had some grand ideas of what I could be. Needless to say, I didn’t make it very far, was not very driven, had a whole bunch of baggage that I allowed to trip me up, and I dropped out after my second year.

I left college because I really had no idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up. At fifty-two, I still don’t have the beginning clue. Oh, wait, I do. I want to be a writer. I want to hear people’s stories. Will that pay the bills? Hmmmm.. possibly, but I have a long way to go.

When I went back to college, I entered the Medical Assistant program after researching it. It is a growing field. It is expected to continue to grow, and certifications are becoming more and more important in the medical field for everyone. It was not wasted time or effort. The facts are real. I am richer for the experience by far. I have a degree, an Associates of Applied Science degree. I passed the certification exam. I have achieved this goal and overcame many, many obstacles.

So, what happened? Why am I leaving my job? 

It mainly has to do with the drive to Traverse City and back. I have always wanted a chauffeur, but these days, I don’t think I would even want the luxury if I had to be out on days like last winter gave us or in the traffic where the Most Important People have to get where they are going, very important you know, and of course, they don’t have to follow the traffic laws.  I am old enough to choose not to risk life and limb for someone else’s rushing about and lack of attention.

The cost has been high. I have gone through multiple vehicles, multiple sets of new tires, and am always finding unexpected bills such as the ER bill from Tom’s bee sting. I have got to repay the student loans, and so far, I am having a pretty rough time keeping every day bills up to date.

There are some things I need to step back and look at a little better: Like, what is the deal with health care? Please explain how to get the patient to the referral they need to have when insurance is more of a stumbling block than a life-saver. Why are insurance programs being promoted in areas where there are no practitioners or specialists in the area the person lives in who will accept that program or at least, courtesy bill that program? I really thought health care reform was going to be for the benefit of the people. Boy, was I naïve!

Oh, this reform has done good work. People who have been routinely abusing and selling prescription drugs are getting caught. Health care providers have more awareness of how their patients are using their prescriptions and are tracking the effectiveness of the drugs more carefully. People who have abused their health care to get non-medically necessary goods are getting thinned out too. The doctors have to spend more time with paperwork and having to prove necessity. (This, of course, means less time for other patients. But it is necessary.)

It is all about the people. The people need a LOT of hands on care, a lot of babysitting. These same people are the ones yelling at their primary care provider for the federal law changes that has them getting into the doctor’s office to pick up their prescription and have office visits that verify the effectiveness of their treatments. They say we are invading their privacy. The same privacy that they gave permission to the doctor to invade in order to provide for their health care way back when they became patients at a doctor’s office. The flip side is the people who need to ask their doctor about everything, can they wipe their bottoms and is it ok to blow their noses?

People are fragile.

It is maddening. I am good at my job. I have been told by patients and coworkers how well I do my work. But I feel like I am rotten at my job and that people’s lives will be harmed if I make mistakes. So, now I am going either into another aspect of the medical field and gaining even more knowledge and experience in the healthcare field. I can do phlebotomy, did it in the classroom. I will need training, and training is available.

Or else, I will go to another kind of work altogether and rest my brain and heart for a while. 

Adventures with Old News

If you have the desire to, going to the Benzie Shores District Library’s website and looking over the old Benzie County newspapers that are scanned in is both fun and somewhat poignant.

I really miss the old papers, with all the so and so visited such and such, and Mr. and Mrs. Jones just visited Mr. and Mrs. Smith down in Detroit. Who was in the hospital? Who was in trouble with the law? Whose barn burned down? It was maybe too nosy for today’s folks, but it was comforting to read up on things. These days, more information is shared much more publically on Facebook and similar places.

Here are some of the gleanings I have found:

April 4, 1920 The weather was really bad for Easter with drifts that were several feet high.

A humorous quote: The hard think about making your money last is making it first.

November 28, 1940 There is a great story of how City Superintendent Perry Mauseth finding a single ox shoe embedded in a big oak tree that blew down in a storm near the American Legion Hall. “The shoe had been nailed to the tree and was grown over by three inches of growth.”

In the same paper, an advertisement asks you to “remember when light was bought by the gallon?”

March 20, 2013 Small things make big news. “We have a new pencil sharpener in the hallway” reports one of the county schools.

As I read on through these old, sometimes tattered, papers, I see names of places that I am unfamiliar with. Where was Liberty Union? Pleasant Valley? Was Homestead Station up where the high school is now? What about Smith’s Corners?

April 3, 1902 “Vern Barber sold his place last fall, shook the sawdust out of his clothes and bade Honor good bye. The other day he made his appearance in our streets looking like thirty cents. Said Honor was the place of all others, bo’t his property back again, moved in and is as happy as a coon in a corn field.”

A surprisingly modern idea is rumored in the November 24, 1927 paper. Ford was promoting the idea of the car lease. “you pay a deposit of 150.00, get your car, and pay a rental fee of 10.00-15.00 a month. When you want a new car, merely turn in the old one and continue to pay the monthly fee. Nice if true!”

Talk of war, soldiers, and world news filled our little paper’s up as well. From multitudes of stories on the Philippines to brief mentions of Japan stockpiling scrap iron to Jack Dempsey being cleared of charges of draft dodging, you just won’t believe what you might find. Why, one paper even had an Edgar Rice Burroughs story running as a series in it back before 1920

It seems like we cared more about how our neighbors were doing and how our community was growing. Some of the articles were blunt, certainly none of the political correctness occurred. But there was respect and empathy in many of the stories. Humor, too. I just read about a really bad fishing trip in a paper from the 1960’s. They did not mention the chief player’s name, but they did have it at the end, all scrabbled up for folks to guess at.

It makes me grin how different the personals were from what they are now.

The advertisements are awesome: The oldest papers have tons of adds for medicinal goods such as Lydia Pinkham. The number of cures for various diseases of both human and animal are daunting! The papers I grew up with mention business names long gone. The Village Shoppe and the Village Squire, Dort's Shoe Box. Walter L. Heaths! The car prices are mouthwatering, so are the old brand new model adds. I even found an add for a sixty acre farm on the north shore of Crystal Lake for undre $5000.00, complete with hardwoods, barns, and a nice house with running water!

Extra! Extra! Read all about it! 

The Story of Frank's Fort (Frankfort)

No one has an ego like my husband's.

When we were kids together, Tom told me this big fish story about how Frankfort got its name. He said the town is named for his great grandfather Frank Martin who lived in a trapper’s cabin in what is now Elberta. 

I was so mad when I found out this was true.

According to Blacklock’s History of Elberta:

In the fall of 1855, Joseph Robar, sixty years of age, and Frank Martin, his son-in-law, arrived at the entrance to lake Aux Bec Scies in his small schooner the “French Girl” ….”Young Frank Martin and Amelia (Robar) took up temporary residence in Joe Oliver’s trapper cabin on the north side of the outlet from Lake Aux Bec Scies and spent the first winter there.”  (Blacklock, 1975)

Historic marker at Gilmore Township Cemetery on Grace Road

That was the cabin that was called Frank’s fort. What made it look like a fort? Well, the sand would blow in from the beach and drift against the house, which still happens in Frankfort on windy days. To fight the sand, Frank built up a wall around the cabin, which made it look like a fort.

Frank’s father –in-law built the very first frame house in Benzie County. Joseph Robar also gained son-in-laws Joseph Oliver, first settler, and George Greenwood, brother of the first businessman who was a blacksmith. Benzie County’s first wedding was in that same frame house. This family must have been something!

There are no photos of Frank Martin. These are the Robar  girls.

Another story Tom liked to tell is about how the Beaver Island Mormon folk stole his great, great grandfather’s cow.  Joseph Robar, with his son, William, Frank Martin, and John Greenwood brought home a team of oxen and four cows from Manistee. They saw a boat pass by as they wear headed for home. They got home in time for lunch, and turned the animals out to graze while they ate.             

“After dinner, Robar asked Martin to look after the stock to make sure they did not stray too far. Martin soon reported that one of the oxen and one of the cows were missing. They immediately began a search and found the grail leading across the river and to the north through the woods. About two miles north of the river mouth, the trail turned toward Lake Michigan. As they came near the beach, they came upon the ox’s head, and when they got in sight of the water, and interesting but disheartening scene burst into view.” (Blacklock, 1975)

Gilmore Township Cemetary

They had butchered the ox, but intended to take the cow home alive for good milk. They managed to get her on their boat and on Beaver Island. She was identified as Robar’s cow, but King Frank Strang never paid for the ox or the cow.

When I married Tom, my daughter was in a class where she had to talk about three war heroes of the past. Tom talked her into writing about Frank Martin, who entered the Civil War at age 38 October 27, 1864.  Frank’s unit went from Munroe, Michigan to Tennessee and then joined General Sherman, marching on foot all the way to Atlanta Georgia and engaging in many of the major battles along the way. After that, the regiment (marched over two hundred miles in a month following General Hood and fighting more battles. Frank received an honorable discharge, was not wounded in action, but did suffer from hearing loss due to the constant cannon and gunfire around him.  With the information provided by Tom and his sister Pat, Jess got some good marks on that paper and awe filled comments from the teacher as well! 

Frank and Amelia’s son Raliegh Martin continued the Martin legacy in this family line. Raliegh loved all kinds of sports. According to my sister-in-law Pat White, and he loved to play baseball and hunt. He loved women. This was his downfall. Raliegh was married three times. He had children by his first wife, Ethel Hensey, who he married in 1902. Their names were Robert and Mildred. Robert Martin was my father-in-law.

Raliegh used to drive snow plows for the county.

“ He told stories of drifts so high that he had to get a running start to tunnel his truck through them. His son Bob rode with him often and once ended up under the truck seat after hitting a huge snow drift.” (Pat White, 2010)

Raliegh kept a pet raccoon named Petey. Pat shares that one day Raliegh went out and when he came back there was toilet paper strung all over the house. Petey came to live with Raliegh’s grand children after that.

My mother had worked with Raliegh in a factory in Benzonia. She told me often that Raliegh was quite a  flirt! Raliegh was a little guy with a big sparkle in his eye. Apparently Raliegh also had a motorcycle, as did his son and grandson, although not the same bike. That would have been awesome.

This story will continue with the stories of Robert Martin.

Begin With What You Know

Well, I know my own story best, so I will share about Tom and I. We seemed to have been connected over the years no matter how I felt about it. Dr. Kamp delivered both of us, at Paul Oliver Memorial hospital on our respective birthdates. 

 

At age two and a half, I went to my first birthday party ever. Little Tommy Martin’s fifth birthday. The ties between the Maginity and the Martin families lasted for years. Tom’s big sister Debby was my baby sitter for a while. Dad and Bob made souped-up cars and dune buggies from VW Beatles. My sister was friends with Tom’s sisters Pat and Robin. Tom must have come over to play, but I don’t remember. I do remember Deb’s horse, Flash, though, that horse was a giant! I remember trick or treating at the Martin’s house on US 31. Candied apples! Yum!

We went to the same churches as little kids, first Grace Bible and then Blaine Christian.

We rode bus together some years. But it wasn’t until I was in eighth grade that we really met up again. As a lowly eighth grader, I got to sit at Tom and Board’s table at lunch. Sitting with upper classmen! Tom was real quiet and intense. I was just a dorky kid who hadn’t stopped playing with her Barbie dolls that long ago. 

Tom was a bass in choir, and I was soprano. He tells me that choir was where he first noticed me and thought I was cute. I was clueless. We were in musicals together. In Oliver, Tom was the poor orphan Oliver’s long lost grandfather. I was the traitorous nurse who gets shaken to death by the widow Corney. This was before the invention of white hair spray. I had dumped a fair amount of baby power in my hair and nearly choked to death after dying.

As a teen ager, I was kind of a loner while being able to fit into many different groups. I had friends who were smokers, friends who were band and choir people. The preppie people and jocks didn’t mind me. Tom was never one for being in groups at all except for his bunch that included Board, Bernie, Kevin, and himself. He was quite the brain, though, and was consistently on the honor roll.

I was always a church goer, especially since Mr Deemer would come around and pick us up to go to Frankfort Wesleyan Church. It was something to do. I didn’t think much of it until June 23, 1977, when things I was messing with got really scary and God sounded like a safe haven. I made a conscious decision to believe in Jesus as the son of God. I didn’t manage to keep out of trouble after that. I was just a teenager who loved rock and roll and disco and dancing. I didn’t have much good sense.

But I did make an impression.

After becoming a Christian, I approached life with the crazy zeal that sometimes follows such decisions. Tom describes my greetings to friends at this time as boingdy boingdy boingdy “HI!” I was different. More friendly, I think. Less dark and superstitious.

But not 100% good. Not by a long shot. 

Another friend, Pat, and I wanted to skip school. This was after Tom had graduated but we three were friends. Tom picked us up at the high school, and off we went in his old work pant green truck with the removable stick shift. After going swimming in Lake Michigan in our jeans and in November (told you I didn’t have sense, didn’t I?) Tom took us back to his house to dry off and prepare to go back to the school and catch the bus.

Not "the" truck, but a similar one.

As we were heading down the road to go back, something very nearly bad happened. On a hilly nearly one lane dirt road, Tom saw a utility truck coming our way. He put on the brakes. Nothing. The truck was getting closer and we weren’t slowing down much at all. He put on the brakes again, and the right side locked up. We went nose first down a pretty steep ravine narrowly missing trees and stumps.

Oh, golly it could have been so much worse. As it was, the truck was good and stuck but we weren’t bad off from the experience. Tom called a friend to take us back to school and the day concluded as planned with only one other person the wiser of or narrow escape.

Sometime after that, Tom accepted my invitation to come to my church. I don’t think it was because of this accident. Tom had survived much worse in his past. (being on fire, jumping off a moving vehicle, sword fights, you name it.) He went just because I asked. And he decided to become a Christian that day.

The same summer I had become a Christian, there was a music group from United Wesleyan College in Allentown, Pennsylvania. One of the fellows was a pilot.  I was determined to go to college at United Wesleyan College and enter their aviation program. I really stank at math back then because it scared me, so… You had to have good math skills to fly… and, well, even though I went to UWC, I didn’t go into their aviation program.

Mainly I went nine hundred miles away from home to get away from home. That never works. Tom came with me the first year, and another Benzie person came with me the second year.  I was still clueless about Tom’s feelings.

Then I quit college and tried a different direction. That path ultimately led me to meet my first husband, Doug, and have my wonderful daughter, Jessica. I would not trade her for anything in the world. Doug and I began all right, but I was a mental mess and still clueless about things. He had his own demons. We split up after 911, after the World Trade towers fell. The pain and horror and awfulness of that day still feels really personal to me.

On the day before my phone was scheduled to be shut off, in the time I was trying to keep my head on straight and find Jess and I a new home, Tom left a phone message out of the blue. He knew I had married, knew I had a daughter. I called him back, told him what was going on. He was sympathetic to me while inside, he told me later, he was doing a happy dance because he had been waiting for me since I was sixteen, in choir, and now he had a chance to get me.

We have now been married almost twelve years. Tom and Jess get along pretty well. We have been through a bit since then: The loss of Tom’s dad Bob and later of my mom Ruth. Saying goodbye to our beloved pets Bud, Piglet, Coffee. Losing the house that Tom built himself. Job changes, life changes. Almost losing Tom to bee stings.

You have maybe heard the song “The Broken Road”? That song suits Tom and I well. All these years, being friends and being in and out of touch, Tom and I have a good life together. We finish each other’s sentences. He understands me when I speak Linetteanese (otherwise known as gibberish). He lets me be a little girl, tries to understand me when I read books to cry or window shop. I trust him. There is so much us about our history that it confounds people who have known us for years. “What took you so long?” people would ask. After all, our first “wedding” was in 1979.

Benzie Quiz For Fun

Here is a brief quiz with different landmarks and items of Benzie County and area.

Photo courtesy of the Benzie Area Historic Museum. They have  a great collection of photos related to the carferries!

How many car ferries can you name that went out from Betsie Bay, MI?

 Where Where were you heading when you saw this barn?

Where was this gas station/party store?

What house is this? (hint-there was a noose hanging out front with a slogan. extra points for quoting the sign)

Where is this picture taken?  For a good solid hint, visit the website!

This has been a church and more. What is it today?

This was a functioning power dam on what river?

People would come from all over to pick this. What is it called?

What did this used to be?

Established in the 20's, what is the location of this building? What can you expect to see and hear there? (It is near Benzie, but not in Benzie.)

I apologize that this quiz was incomplete when I first posted it, and hope everyone will enjoy the new quiz.

Benzie Area Historical Museum

Living in the Pinky, an introduction

I was born at Paul Oliver Memorial Hospital in Frankfort, Michigan. I attended Benzie Central schools from kindergarten through graduation. Learned how to swim at Crystal Lake and the mouth of the Platte River. I went to church at Grace Bible, Blaine Christian Church, and Frankfort Wesleyan Church. Lots has changed over the years, but I still love my home.

There is much about Benzie County to love. All the rivers and lakes, for one thing, The views, for another. Cresting archway hill into Frankfort. Stratton Hill. The overlook on M 22 just above Arcadia. The view from Eden Hill.

How about the history? The Catton books about the Civil War. Archibald Jones and the draining of Crystal Lake. Trains, lumbering, ghost towns, mysteries. The rumors of Al Capone and others who summered here, and those who fought prohibition and earned a living the hard way.

The people catch my interest the most.

My southern relatives in Beulah, MI 1965

What used to be familiar stories are fading away with time. What about the old soldiers who used to stand at attention as straight as their backs would allow on memorial day, saluting and soberly hearing Taps play once again, after hearing it too many times before. What war did they fight in those uniforms?

The foundation of Benzonia was the college, and all that remains of that is Mills Community House. What about the students, the instructors?

What part did Benzie County play in the wars? This was the national soaring and hang gliding capital, but there was much more than that at wartime. How about signal hill? The car ferries, the Lake Michigan coast?

Here is where I want to dig deeper, find the stories that aren't getting told enough anymore, and remember those who are gone, who we still miss, and to whom we owe much.

As well as our history, I also want to remember old times, how we played and shenanigans we were involved in. First jobs, first cars, movies we remember seeing at the drive in, the Garden, or the Crystal Theater. Some may even remember watching movies outdoors behind Hoadley's store, now the Wesco at US 31 and Hoadley Road intersection.

I would love to put of photos and memorabilia. Keepsakes and treasures that were kept for a reason, faded though they bee, they are worth remembering again.

If you are from Benzie County or nearby, or have family or friends here, please share your memories. If you are interested in being interviewed (a fancy word for telling stories), please email me at LinMartin02@gmail.com.