I had made plans to meet my friend and boat captain Dan Nelson on Medline Island, a quick ferry ride from Bayfield, WI. As this was pre-cellphone days I was using the 800 number through C&K to make plans, so communications were somewhat delayed. I made my way across the upper peninsula of Michigan, through Spread Eagle WI. Once on the island I located Dan's cousin Tommy, who directed me to town beach where I set my tent.
Spread Eagle, WI
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Nelson family Town Beach, Madeline Island, WI
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Dan's actual arrival date was open, and the delayed as his son Owen needed to get checked out for a medical issue he was having. As it turned out, Dan didn't make it because he needed to stay with Owen in Boston. In the meanwhile I made the most of my time, helping out at Leona's Cafe doing odd jobs in exchange for food and beer. I explored the island, making friends along the way. I met Blaze one morning, who wanted to know if I was really from MA and if so, why was I on the island off-season? I explained about my intent to aimlessly wander about letting the wind direct me as it pleased... She said that she wanted her girlfriend to hear my story, and would I come by their campsite for dinner the following day? I agreed.
The walkway across a lagoon to where I met Blaze
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Blaze and Glory, my new friends
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When I arrived the following day to their campsite, they told me that because of the rain they couldn't start a fire, hence no meal (Shepard;s Pie was the plan). Recalling the days of boyscout camping, I gathered a bunch of dry wood and dinner got underway. We had a fine meal and shared life experience stories.
Early morning view from my campsite
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Tommy's vessel, the Eric
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with Mag, on a rainy camping trip somewhere in New England
Somewhere along the way, I got to thinking about my time in boyscouts and more specifically about our leader, Norm "Mag" Magnuson. While my brother and I didn't stay in scouts for very long, my father did. Eventually out of scouts grew a group of fathers and sons who focused mainly on camping. Through it all Mag remained an important person in my life. I distinctly remembered the lesson he taught us about finding dry wood in the rain. "Squaw wood" was the term he used to describe the dead lower branches of Pine trees. I was recalling how Mag filled in in the years when my father was sick. A John Wayne-like presence with the heart of a lion. I decided that I needed to write to him, to thank him for his friendship, and his guidance. I didn't needed to search very far for his address... I had been using him as a personal reference for more than ten years and on every job application I filled out (106 Jason St Arlington, still got it!). I sat down and wrote to Mag a nice five page letter thanking him for everything I could think of worthy of mention, and then a few more.
Another note about Mag, he was a WWII veteran who had received the Purple Heart.
I next saw Mag at church on Easter Sunday, April 19th, 1992. He, of course, was a church deacon, an elder serving communion. We shook hands, and he pulled me aside. He told me that the letter meant a lot to him. His exact words were "One letter like that makes 50 years as scout master that much more meaningful". Through his smoke colored glasses I noticed that like me, he had a tear in his eye.
Mag was the catalyst for me becoming more involved in the church. I joined the Diaconate committee and became a deacon. Once the church learned of my wicked ways I was given the keys to the kingdom and asked to leave the church.
Mag was diagnosed as having cancer and passed the following year, on March 25th, 1993.
Another note about Mag, he was a WWII veteran who had received the Purple Heart.
I next saw Mag at church on Easter Sunday, April 19th, 1992. He, of course, was a church deacon, an elder serving communion. We shook hands, and he pulled me aside. He told me that the letter meant a lot to him. His exact words were "One letter like that makes 50 years as scout master that much more meaningful". Through his smoke colored glasses I noticed that like me, he had a tear in his eye.
Mag was the catalyst for me becoming more involved in the church. I joined the Diaconate committee and became a deacon. Once the church learned of my wicked ways I was given the keys to the kingdom and asked to leave the church.
Mag was diagnosed as having cancer and passed the following year, on March 25th, 1993.
Dan Nelson on Doric in Boston, black and and blues harp!
Tom Nelson owner of Leona's black hat and blues harp
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Troy (Nelson?) server at Leona's, on my last day there.
That's me at Leona's!
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