An Okoboji Goodbye

The Marina at Village West had boats, jetskis, paddleboards and Maui Mats for rent. Enjoying it here are cousins from our group. Photo by Heidi Johnson.

When our niece, Wendy, titled her farewell e-mail, “An Okoboji Goodbye”, I thought it was so poetic. We had missed her family’s departure from the Neary Clan 2023 Reunion, where 130 people arrived and departed at all hours. It was a 10 day get-together at Village West Resort in NW Iowa’s glacial lake region, specifically at West Lake Okoboji.

Happy Wendy, Carlos and some of their family, Village West Convention Hall, June 25, 2023.

Wendy and Carlos. There’s a lot to tell about them, (too much for this blog post). They have always wowed us! It was really astonishing to have them attend from AZ, along with 5 of their 6 boys, and 1 daughter-in-law. You see, an illness has invaded their lives for more than a year. It is near miraculous that the afflicted person is still with us, here on earth, partying and talking and dancing. A true reward of intense faith and spiritual practices.

Every person who came was celebrated. Those who could not were remembered and thought about often. This is where the Neary reunion was held almost 40 years ago, in 1984. It (and we) looked a lot different then. Attendees this year remarked on how fabulous it was to have their 10 year old kids experience this place that they remember so fondly as a 10 year old.

Matriarch Betty Neary, with her 12 children, 1984, at what was then called Vacation Village.

Great pic of the cabins (now gone) and Peg with Kendra, 1984.

For this reunion, people stayed in timeshare buildings, where the owners had given up their week. It was all co-ordinated by Marne, at the resort, and our daughter-in-law, Amy. A super feat of organization.

Oh what a week it was! Highlights and special memories for me were :

Taking 5 year old Liam down the steps to the dock, where he hadn’t been for a year, and having him say, “I remember the spider webs.” Funny! I thought he’d say the water, the fish, the swimming. Spiderwebs are everywhere near the lake. Gus got a “face plant” as he entered the fishing boat early one morning, and Jess had to do a “limbo” move to get under a horizontal web over the steps.

The broom we use constantly to clear out webs.

Meals were catered in for most nights, as the resort’s restaurant has not re-opened since 2020. Wednesday night was Texas BBQ. We received an appreciative note from one of the kids, which I passed on to Back Alley Texas BBQ.

Standing in line for dinner one evening, I found myself behind a teen from AZ. I asked him if he went out at night to see the stars. He said, “Yes! We went into the cornfield, chasing the fireflies.” It was the first time he had seen them, in person! Before, he had only seen them in cartoons, ha ha. Note: we call them lightening bugs in the midwest.

No fireflies in this photo of family enjoying an Iowa corn field, near Village West. I’m tempted to draw them in!
Photo by Amanda Stoft, June 2023.

Seeing the young kids and adults enjoy the music of @DJNateT (our nephew on my side of the family, a Thelen). So much splendid dancing!!!

Heavenly. I now think of “Shout” as a Gospel tune.

Having a Catholic priest friend attend for special blessings. We need them.

Meeting a young reader from Oklahoma. We became instant friends on Goodreads.

Spilling the tea, the coffee, the wine, the beer, the water, and wiping it all up with old beach towels. Everyone helped. Speaking of clean up time, it was fun to see this crew dancing through the job!

Brandon, Bryan and Dan, serving Brats and Bob’s Dogs (sloppy joes over a hot dog) to Tammy and Charlotte. Dan bought this roaster pan especially for this.

Conor, Gus and Sam.

Trash. No industrial composting site is available in the area, and we couldn’t send it all back with Leigh (she composts everything-for herself and her customers-through@hillsidesolutions). We tried not to have too much waste, using a set of metal eatingware for some of the utensils, and steel cups, which were all put in the dishwasher at home each night. For plates, we used disposable ones made from palm leaves (said to decompose in 2 months). Forks were made from birch trees. Bryan said that using these was like eating with chopsticks, ha! He is so funny.

In our quest for non-plastic, we found these online. Made from palm leaves and birch trees.

Steel cups from @exist_green in Omaha. Planning chart by Shirley.

Mistaking Jason for the Hy-Vee breakfast delivery guy, saying, “Just put it over there”. He looked at me quizzically, and said, “No, I’m Jason, your nephew”. Ha ha. Oh well, it was early, and he did have a hat on, somewhat hiding his identity. Still, how embarrassing.

Solving the online NYTimes Sunday Crossword with Leigh and her husband, Brandon, on the dock, and getting an answer from a boat filled with Nearys passing by. “Try HOWDY DO” Jane yelled in answer to the clue “Old time country greeting”. It fit!

An Okoboji trip is not complete without a stop at Arnold’s Park for rides and amusements.

Kids loved the arcade at the resort, earning these tickets for prizes.

On another day, we had an impromptu Lemonade Stand at the end of our dock, calling over the pontoon carrying our relatives. Actually, Amy zipped out on the speed boat to make sure they heard our invitation. Conor quickly made and served 2 pitchers of freshly sqeezed lemonade.

Peg and Jean hosted an ice cream social, with the works-a good idea! They bought so many toppings and so much ice cream that it went on for 2 nights.

Jean even made a batch of hot fudge sauce in the crock pot, which went fast.

From the oldest to the youngest, we bonded.

Here I am (not quite the oldest) with the youngest attendee. Photo by Shannon Meyer.

So, to paraphrase the Irish writer, James Joyce, they came “and laughed and loved and left”, leaving us with shadows of their heartwarming presence.

And, leftovers, in our freezer and pantry still. And, many, many photos, YAY!

Enjoy your family. Here’s a photo of some of ours:

By The Des Moines Photo Booth Co., (owned and operated by another nephew, this one married to a Thelen), set up the same night as our DJ.

Shirley

On Holiday Lights

This is our 5th day of cold and clouds and not melting snow. The days and nights of December need lights, and I’ve never realized it more than during this cold spell! Staying inside a lot, I catch myself looking out, and glimpsing, (or staring at) the simple clear, and lush lights of Turner Park, or a neighbor’s lit up Christmas tree in a condo window, always a delight!

Some of the park lights that I look out at.

Corner condo dwellers’ Christmas trees, Dec. 2020

I tend toward moderation and simplicity. Less is more, to me.

Here’s something I wrote on December 22, 2015:

Today, I read an essay in OUR IOWA magazine about a Californian recalling her growing up days in small town Iowa (Red Oak). She wrote about how, at Christmas-time, she could see the town square from her grandma’s 2nd floor apartment, and how they sat there at 5 PM to see the very first Christmas light come on, and then all of them, the reds, yellows, blues and greens.

An image flashed through my mind of Breda, Iowa’s (population 500) downtown holiday lights strung across the street, row after row. It was very simple, yet so effective against the night sky. I loved it then, and I LOVE thinking about it now!

Contrast that with the fancy, flashy light displays—which are very special really for their once a year occurence—in retail areas and home neighborhoods, or such as The Holly Jolly Lights in Des Moines, (a drive through fundraiser for Make A Wish). All very nice, but maybe trying just a little too hard.

This week, 2020, I searched online for a historical photo of those lights in Breda, and Carroll, IA, and in Omaha, with no success. So, I did a quick little watercolor sketch to express what I’m missing.

Still searching for Christmas lights like these.

Here it is! The magnificent simplicity of Breda, Iowa’s holiday lights on Main St.
Photo by my cousin, Virginia Kennebeck, Dec. 2020.

Enjoy the brilliance, whatever kind, and wherever you are!

Merry Christmas,

Shirley

On a Stone Bench

This summer, it all began with a trip to the Maritime Museum in Arnold’s Park, Iowa. I saw this arched structure made from rocks. The sign said it was on loan from Clark Museum in Milford, Iowa. It did not say who made it, or when.

The maker’s name is “Anonymous”, as many pieces of folk art are unsigned.

It made me think of my Great Grandpa Goecke who made stone sculptures. The one I specifically remember was a big stone basket in front of Grandma and Grandpa Schelle’s farmhouse. Grandma, Mary Ann (Mamie) Goecke Schelle, was his daughter.

Linda Schelle Johnston has inherited this stone basket, the smaller of the two I remember. It now sits in her yard.

I wondered if he was inspired by the rocky shorelines of Spirit Lake, Iowa’s largest natural lake, where he spent many years, or if it was a popular craft of the time.

Mom (Jean Schelle Thelen) talked often of her Grandpa Goecke’s cottage on Spirit Lake. She gave me a photo from 1981 of her and our 2 older sons, Bryan and Brandon, on a rock bench at that cottage (now with a new owner). She told me that her Grandpa Goecke tied his boat to it.

Brandon, Bryan, and their Grandma, 1981. The rope shows that it’s still being used to tie down a boat.

I LOVE that picture and the idea of an ancestor making the bench. I wanted to see it, but I had no idea where it was located. I guess Mom had never taken me there, that I remember! And now, I couldn’t ask her, because she went on to her heavenly reward in 2014.

So, I asked around. I asked my brother Ed first. He’s a long time resident of Spirit Lake, and Mom and Dad visited him often, renting a cabin each spring and fall (the unbusy times), near him.

No, he had no idea either.

Next, I asked my Kennebeck cousins. They come to The Iowa Great Lakes (Okoboji) every summer for a week of pure fun, and their Mom was my mom’s sister, so she must have talked about it also.

No, they didn’t know where it was!

My Uncle Ron (Mom’s brother) had done a detailed family history for our files. That’s where I found information on William Goecke. He was married and lived in Carroll, Iowa. A few years after his wife died (in 1930), he moved to Spirit Lake (in 1934), and lived there until 1956, when he returned to Carroll. In Spirit Lake, he owned a house in town for the winter, and a lakehouse for the summer.

My Great Grandpa Goecke, at his Spirit Lake cottage. Photo sent to me by Ron Schelle, in June 2019.
I love that he named his fishing cottage!

I went to the courthouse with that information, sleuthing my way to the cottage with the stone bench. The helpful workers led me to the basement, through a dark corridor into a large bright room, and left me there.

It was quite fun! Searching through a massive, tabletop sized index of handwritten deed transfers (today, they’re all digital), sorted by year, and alphabetized, I found one address really fast—the one in town.

It was energizing to see his name written here.

The lake cottage was pretty easy too. He bought it in 1941.

Then, I went upstairs to the offices to get the actual address, after finding the division name and year of the sale. I got both addresses, and the current owners’ names. The lake cottage has an Omaha owner, and I knew the name!

After contacting my Omaha friend, I learned that her husband’s brother had purchased the property 3 years ago. They weren’t staying there until the weekend, and encouraged me to go have a looksee, although they couldn’t recall a bench.

I went the next day, very excited and hopeful. My imagination saw it along the shore, and I thought we could maybe take a new family photo there, with grandkids and myself, to hang on the wall, alongside the other.

Great Grandpa Goecke’s cottage, 12885 253rd Ave. My own photo, June 2019.

Well, it had been 38 years since the stone bench photo was taken. I really thought it would be there, but it was not. A sea wall, several feet wide has been built, taking over the original shoreline.

So disappointing.

However, I’ll always appreciate hand crafted stone sculptures, and think of my Great Grandpa Goecke, who gave me joy long ago, when I gazed at the basket on my Grandparent Schelle’s farmhouse steps, near Breda, Iowa.

Just for fun, here are a few stone photos from my walks, along West Lake Okoboji.

Icy rocks, West Okoboji shoreline, Nov. 2017.

I hope you enjoyed this little story, and can go sit on a favorite bench somewhere in your world!

Shirley

On Country Lanes

Grandma and Grandpa Thelen’s Home Place, west of Breda, IA, in the 1960’s. I spent so much time here with my Aunt Nancy and cousins galore.

There once was a farm that is now no more. Over and over, many farms are now no more.

It must be that as we get older, things from the past become more valuable, like my childhood farm, near here.

I pride myself on not being too nostalgic. The present is just so exciting!

We chose this quote for our water bottles at Cupcake Island, in Omaha, in 2006.

I thought of this quote, (along with the more familiar “You can’t go home again”, from the Thomas Wolfe book title) as Dan and I searched this past August for the farm of my youth, near Breda, Iowa. Our family moved from there in 1961, to Carroll, about 15 miles away, when I was in 4th grade.

We didn’t find it. I was so disappointed! Still, it was a gorgeous day, and worthwhile for the change in scenery.

We did see the land where my grandparent’s farm was. All that’s left of it today is everyone’s favorite tree. I think it was saved by the farmer (a relative) for our enjoyment.

The tree, looking to the west, from the road by the Snappy popcorn bins.

Another view of the tree, along with a windmill, from the north, near where the lane used to be, judging by the mailbox.

We also saw a familiar farm, now planted with exquisite wildflowers in a huge swath of it.

I knew the farm (and the lane) we were searching for was nearby. Dan patiently tried so hard to find it for me. We drove around in circles (squares actually). He remembered every intersection, telling me often, “We’ve already gone that way.” Patience was wearing thin, so we called it a day, and moved on.

Later, I asked Nancy, who lives nearby, “Will you please check out our old farm? And, do you know if the lane is still there?” She soon reported back that the lane is gone. The crops have taken it over.

Next, I enlisted my younger brother, Ed, to help. He would remember our years there. The first thing he did was to sketch out the location from the flower farm. It was so close, 1 mile north, and 1/3 mile west. Dan said, “We didn’t go that way.” I couldn’t believe it!

Then, Ed showed me a website that had a Historical Aerial Photo Project, and he found our farm! This was fantastic! Warm feelings ensued as I saw the very long lane leading to the cluster of farm buildings in 1960.

Here is something I wrote on July 1, 2012:

This is the lane that our Aunt Janet called a “roller coaster” lane for its hills and valleys. Back then, in the 1950’s, it seemed so long!

On Friday (June 29), my brother, Ed, and I drove onto that lane and it didn’t seem so long. But it was a country lane packed with memory and emotion.

This is the lane where a parade of honking, headlighted cars came down on a July night long ago to surprise Mom and Dad on their anniversary (July 2) and to celebrate in the yard, where I saw Mom and Dad kiss for the first time, ha ha!

This is the lane that Dad carried me down in multi-foot deep snow to catch the car pool to school for first grade.

This is the lane that the oil man came down to deliver our heating oil, and to give us kids candy or gum. His name was Woody. My brothers and I would run up to him, shouting his name. We were so excited to have this visitor arrive!

Now, with the lane being no more, these stories, (and more), are just a memory.

Shirley