Poetry

Photographs of Grand Marais
Weather NOW in Grand Marais

Every summer from 1953 to 1966, my sister and I were taken to Grand Marais, in the upper penninsula of Michigan. Our mother was taken there by her parents, when she was a little girl. We lived in a tent and a log cabin on property that now belongs to the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore Park system. The old farm belonged then to friends of our grandparents. It included part of Sable Falls, lots of Lake Superior shoreline, sand dunes, a stream, and fragrant jack pine forests with carpets of crispy, sea-green lichens.

Susie and I were wild girls in the wilderness. There always was a crowd of bohemian writers and environmentalists who would take my sister and me on picnic expeditions over old logging trails. These people and experiences had a profound influence on us as we were growing up.

I remember vividly the summer idylls of bathing nude in a freezing stream, washing my hair under the waterfall, fetching drinking water in a pitcher from a spring. We spent an entire day catching rainbow trout and picking blueberries for an unforgettable meal of sweet fish and pie. We walked on the beach and filled our pockets with agates. The long solitary hours in the dunes were refreshed by the evening company of adults who demanded that all participate in poetry and limerick contests.

One of the most remarkable of these interesting people was Wade VanDore. Wade was a most wonderful person, gentle, playful, inspiring. My sister and I loved him dearly. He was honored once as the American Poet of the Year, and I am afraid that now he is remembered by no one. Except for me, my sister Susie, and a few other people...and by those who read old, musty books.

I will put the best of Wade's poetry here, if I can decide what is the best of something so rare and fine.