The St. Mary's River may not be over five miles long as it pours out of Whitefish Bay and heads for the Soo Locks where it passes through into a much narrower, but still navigable waterway for worldwide shipping. In front of the Mission it is one of the widest rivers in the world. It is also one of the most beautiful views in the area, whether you are at the Mission Hill Lookout or behind the King's Club.
I manage almost daily to look at the river and Canada and the many colors of the water, as the river responds to a variety of weather and wind-induced patterns of rippling art. Some days there are waves or white caps that make the whole waterway white, and then too are the days where you can see all the sandbars in the area. There are days when just to look is all that one needs.
An occasional boat heading up or down can occupy your vision for several moments before it passes into the vastness of Lake Superior or merges into the narrowing river approaching the locks. On some days you cannot see Canada, or any boats that may be passing by and then you can remember when the boats used their whistles to let other boats know here they are. And not too many years ago, the foghorn at the lighthouse kept up a running conversation with all the ships as they sought a safe passage though the mist covered waters.
The foghorn and the boat whistles are high on my list of things that I would like to hear again. I remember on nice sunny days that there would almost always be someone crawling along the shoreline looking for agates. Many hunters of that day kept their finds in two-quart sealers displayed prominently in their home.
Another summer find was the two blackberry patches that grew in the sand among the reeds. They were big and tasty and seemed to provide everyone at least one serving of this special treat.
Once in awhile in the summer months there was kind of a field day. There were a variety of contests, races and a "special" pie-eating contest. Mrs. Marshall made the rhubarb pie for the pie eating contest and I like pie and was first in line to enter this event. I don't know how may others got into this contest, but I know that whoever got even a portion of this pie down deserved to win.
I took a bite, a big bite. I was going for the prize, but then my taste buds started yelling, "Hey, stop, something's wrong," and with that, I put my mouthful of pie back on the plate and deposited the whole thing under second base and just stood there trying to figure out what happened. When the judges saw that my pie was gone, they started to give me the prize, but fortunately for my honor and that of the community, Doris Parish squealed on me.
For the next few years I sort of skipped Mrs. Marshall's house on New Year's Day. She was a good cook and this pie looked real good, but she had purposely omitted the sugar.
Sometimes a long time ago seems like the best of all times and getting back there doesn't take long at all. I'm not too sure where I want to go next, but I do want the memories of wherever my imagination takes me. So have the kind of todays that will give you pleasure as you dwell on them in the days and years to come.
Bill LeBlanc is an elder of the Bay Mills Indian Community. He is retired from State government where he worked as an Indian advocate. He currently resides on the Bay Mills Reservation.
