Chesterton, Indiana was not quite ready for us and we were not quite ready for Chesterton. We were a little too modern for Cheese town. I did what I always did. I changed, I adapted. Soon, I was at all the football games and working on the prom committee and that kind of thing. I probably would not have been involved in those activities in Bloomington. I accumulated, for the first time in my life, a group of “girlfriends”. To the beach, shopping, to the movies and hanging out uptown at the park or at The Port...a root beer drive in.
My mom and dad decided to settle in Chesterton. It was close to family, something we had never been around, and centrally located for my dad’s work. My parents bought a house. A real house, on a street, with a garage and a big backyard. It was a new experience for all of us. 101 Westchester Court. A great home.
I finished my junior year with a lot of memories and friends. There was a big group of girls that boycotted prom. I can’t remember why, but we did. We had a MORP party instead at one of the girls houses. It was great fun. I also had decided to run for an office in my Senior Class...mainly because I didn’t think the other two people who had announced the were going to try for Vice President were very exciting. I was elected. My senior year was perfect from beginning to end. We had a great homecoming float, we had fun at football games and after game dances. We loved our basketball and track teams and our swim team was always highly ranked. I did go to prom my senior year and had a wonderful time. We partied in corn fields and bean fields and out at the dunes. We went to the 49er Drive In and snuck by the ticket booth in trunks of cars.
I love Chesterton still. Its changed, its bigger, it has a little different vibe than it did in 1972 when I graduated from high school. Soon, it was too small for me and wasn’t bringing me the satisfaction I sought. My dad was traveling to jobs a lot and since I graduated, and Kevin was very independent, my mom started traveling with Dad again. I moved back to Bloomington with the intention of going to college but that never really worked out. My parents weren’t of the mind that girls get college educations and they didn’t really know how to help me out with that plan. So, I worked in Bloomington, was considered a “townie” in the bars and got really tired of being asked what my major was...and grew up.
I moved back to Chesterton to my parent’s home in the fall of 1976. By Christmas of that same year, after shopping for a Christmas present for Kevin in the local men’s store, I had met Chris and we began dating. Our first date was just after Christmas 1976 and by March we were engaged, married in October of 1977. I was satisfied indeed, and a new life was beginning for me.
Soon I would be in LaPorte and in a big family, where everyone knew someone in Chris’ family. His family had a small grocery store and there were always people who commented on the store, or the lake or one of his brothers. We would ride through town and he referred to houses by the family name of who lived there when he was growing up. “The Jones House” or “The Muratori House”. It was foreign to me, those kinds of memories. He knew everyone it seemed to me. I realized how different my life had been than his. It didn’t bother me, in fact I have always been grateful for my childhood, the travels, the things I’ve seen and done. However, I had not really thought about the memories I did not have. When Chris’ grandmother passed away, we went to lunch after the funeral at St. Joe’s school. He and his brothers and sister were reminiscing about their school days there. I thought “Wow, except for Chesterton High School, and Bloomington and faded memories of the school in California, I have absolutely no recollection of schools”. They could talk about lunch money, lunch ladies and how much milk cost, what kids looked like, who the teachers were and recess. They knew the bathrooms, the tile on the floor. They had spent years and years there. It was not something I could wrap my head around. I didn’t think it was better or worse mind you...just so unfamiliar to me.
Years later, after Adam was born, I was taking a babysitter home. She lived on Small Road and as she pointed out the driveway I realized I knew the people who lived there before. Who her parents had bought the house from. I knew why they left town and where their new home was located. I was probably close to 30 years old and was as happy as I had ever been. I had roots!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Bloomington Indiana. What a wonderful town. It was just the right spot for us to be after the wild and crazy free love environment of San Francisco and the laid back Happy Camp. When we hit Bloomington High School, we were too cool for words. We LOVED going onto IU’s campus where we could find more of our kind of “crowd”..a little older, a little more “hip”.
The kids at Bloomington High School (now Bloomington South) were a good mix of kids..farm kids, townies, stoners, jocks. There was a second high school in Bloomington, University High School...which was just off campus and the kids there were a little edgier. Their parents were professors, grad students or international guests and instructors. We liked University High School but attended Bloomington, which was on the outskirts of the southern edge of Bloomington. Still located there today, its no longer in a country setting. University High School does not exist and was transitioned into Bloomington North. It does still have more students that have campus affiliations but doesn’t have that same “mini IU” that University did when we were there.
My sister and I were considered “hippies” then. I guess we were. I wore long, flowered “granny” dresses and had a pair of lace up suede boots that I loved. I also wore shawls, no coat. We were clean, however, so I’m not sure we qualified as true hippies. Kevin was in junior high..at Central which was right at the intersection of 2nd Street and College and is now a park area just on the edge of Kroger parking lot. He became a pretty good athlete.
As a side note, at some point in time during the mid to late 60s my dad turned down two assignments. The first was to Portugal. He and my mom decided they did not want to do an international assignment. The second was a long term assignment in Orlando, Florida. You guessed it. Disney World. Much construction. But, my mom’s dad had passed away, and she did not want to be that far from my grandmother in southern Illinois long term. So, Dad turned that down as well and requested to be assigned to midwest projects from here on out.
We had moved in to a new mobile home in Bloomington. It was awesome, spacious and modern. Still in a nice mobile home park, close to the high school. Micki was dating, I was flirting and secretly “dating”. Maybe it would be called hanging out these days, but, it was fun. I had a nice boyfriend named Parker.
As stated in an earlier post, my dad was working on Assembly Hall which wasn’t a very long assignment for just the steel work. We weren’t in Bloomington long but like all visitors to Bloomington, we loved it and hated to leave. But, soon we were being transported to a small town in northern Indiana. Chesterton, which would end up being the longest we had ever lived anywhere. I started my junior year in Bloomington, and we got to Chesterton in about October of 1970. Micki was a senior and by December, she had dropped out of school, left home and headed back to Bloomington, having not fit in to Chesterton. She would be turning 18 in January so my parents did not try to get her to come back. I can’t say that I missed her but worried about her. There had been so much turmoil and trouble between her and my parents that I welcomed the quiet.
The kids at Bloomington High School (now Bloomington South) were a good mix of kids..farm kids, townies, stoners, jocks. There was a second high school in Bloomington, University High School...which was just off campus and the kids there were a little edgier. Their parents were professors, grad students or international guests and instructors. We liked University High School but attended Bloomington, which was on the outskirts of the southern edge of Bloomington. Still located there today, its no longer in a country setting. University High School does not exist and was transitioned into Bloomington North. It does still have more students that have campus affiliations but doesn’t have that same “mini IU” that University did when we were there.
My sister and I were considered “hippies” then. I guess we were. I wore long, flowered “granny” dresses and had a pair of lace up suede boots that I loved. I also wore shawls, no coat. We were clean, however, so I’m not sure we qualified as true hippies. Kevin was in junior high..at Central which was right at the intersection of 2nd Street and College and is now a park area just on the edge of Kroger parking lot. He became a pretty good athlete.
As a side note, at some point in time during the mid to late 60s my dad turned down two assignments. The first was to Portugal. He and my mom decided they did not want to do an international assignment. The second was a long term assignment in Orlando, Florida. You guessed it. Disney World. Much construction. But, my mom’s dad had passed away, and she did not want to be that far from my grandmother in southern Illinois long term. So, Dad turned that down as well and requested to be assigned to midwest projects from here on out.
We had moved in to a new mobile home in Bloomington. It was awesome, spacious and modern. Still in a nice mobile home park, close to the high school. Micki was dating, I was flirting and secretly “dating”. Maybe it would be called hanging out these days, but, it was fun. I had a nice boyfriend named Parker.
As stated in an earlier post, my dad was working on Assembly Hall which wasn’t a very long assignment for just the steel work. We weren’t in Bloomington long but like all visitors to Bloomington, we loved it and hated to leave. But, soon we were being transported to a small town in northern Indiana. Chesterton, which would end up being the longest we had ever lived anywhere. I started my junior year in Bloomington, and we got to Chesterton in about October of 1970. Micki was a senior and by December, she had dropped out of school, left home and headed back to Bloomington, having not fit in to Chesterton. She would be turning 18 in January so my parents did not try to get her to come back. I can’t say that I missed her but worried about her. There had been so much turmoil and trouble between her and my parents that I welcomed the quiet.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Happy Camp
After we lived it up in San Francisco, we were on our way to Northern California to a charming little village named Happy Camp. Way up in logging and Indian territory. My dad was going to be doing a short term assignment on the Indian Reservation there. Yes, we were the minority. It was an interesting and rugged and wonderful place. It was indeed happy.
We had a great house in Happy Camp. I still wonder why it was there and why it was available for us for about 4 months. The town was small and there was a general mercantile there. I’ll never forget it. It had stacks and stacks of original red tag button fly Levi jeans. The kind of jeans that was all the rage back in the southern part of the state and difficult and expensive to find. But this was also the jean of the logger. The mercantile was exactly like you would suspect...a little of everything. It was fantastic.
Behind our great house in Happy Camp was a creek. The creek would be dammed by a couple downed trees and a pretty nice swimming hole created. Cliff on one side to jump from. Not bad. Populated on most days by other kids, including some native american kids and young adults. Our first day there, before it was dammed up, Kevin, Micki and I were walking along the creek. Somehow my footing slipped and I was being carried downstream. Quickly. Kevin ran along...he was all of 12 or so....and at some point was able to get to me and snatch my butt out of the creek. I was banged up, wet and forever grateful.
Soon, the kids came and got the creek dammed up, the rope swing tied up and all was great in Happy Camp. My sister was restless and we sometimes had Indians at our window at night, enticing us to come outside. Micki often did, and that’s all I know about that.
We were happy in Happy Camp. It was an adventure, a time warp, another world. It was beautiful and rugged and rough. We left there in October, sorry to go but headed to Bloomington, Indiana where my dad would be the superintendent to build the great Assembly Hall, which has a roof line that is patterned after a suspension bridge. After San Francisco and Happy Camp, a college town was about the next best thing! It was 1969, man had walked on the moon and the times, they were a changin’.
We had a great house in Happy Camp. I still wonder why it was there and why it was available for us for about 4 months. The town was small and there was a general mercantile there. I’ll never forget it. It had stacks and stacks of original red tag button fly Levi jeans. The kind of jeans that was all the rage back in the southern part of the state and difficult and expensive to find. But this was also the jean of the logger. The mercantile was exactly like you would suspect...a little of everything. It was fantastic.
Behind our great house in Happy Camp was a creek. The creek would be dammed by a couple downed trees and a pretty nice swimming hole created. Cliff on one side to jump from. Not bad. Populated on most days by other kids, including some native american kids and young adults. Our first day there, before it was dammed up, Kevin, Micki and I were walking along the creek. Somehow my footing slipped and I was being carried downstream. Quickly. Kevin ran along...he was all of 12 or so....and at some point was able to get to me and snatch my butt out of the creek. I was banged up, wet and forever grateful.
Soon, the kids came and got the creek dammed up, the rope swing tied up and all was great in Happy Camp. My sister was restless and we sometimes had Indians at our window at night, enticing us to come outside. Micki often did, and that’s all I know about that.
We were happy in Happy Camp. It was an adventure, a time warp, another world. It was beautiful and rugged and rough. We left there in October, sorry to go but headed to Bloomington, Indiana where my dad would be the superintendent to build the great Assembly Hall, which has a roof line that is patterned after a suspension bridge. After San Francisco and Happy Camp, a college town was about the next best thing! It was 1969, man had walked on the moon and the times, they were a changin’.
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