Beyond Belief- Myths of Put-in-Bay

Monument or Lighthouse?

It’s fascinating how little people from this general region really know about our Bass Islands. We are still one of the best-kept secrets in the Midwest. Some “mainland” people are surprised to learn that there are islands in Lake Erie, which is why it is so much fun to learn about the myths and yarns that have developed over the years about the Lake Erie Islands.

I remember having a conversation with someone in Buffalo, New York, that had visited a “private island” with a huge lighthouse and a winery near Cedar Point. It is these juicy bits and pieces of information that feed the tall tales and myths surrounding Put-in-Bay.

Myths are tall tales, stories with unbelievable elements, related as if it were true and factual. Long time Islanders have probably heard more tall tales about life in Put-in-Bay than most. These tall tales, rumors, innuendo and myths are perennial. Islanders have probably sheepishly helped to fuel some of the myths, while others just grow and spread on their own. Some of my favorite stories include the tunnel to the mainland, the tallest lighthouse, kids can drive, and everything costs more here including the beer.

On any given weekend if you watch the ferries unloading it seems like every other person is pulling, towing, carrying or dragging an oversized cooler full of their favorite beverage. If you ask, most people will tell you that they are certain that the cost of beer on the mainland is “much much” cheaper. So for all your folks that dragged that cooler up the hill only to find our local package store sells for the same price as the mainland, this story’s for you!

This summer, with the help of young filmmaker Adam Bianchi and assisted by Jake Batt, Dan Duggan, and Elise Wallis we set out to document a few of these larger than life myths. We brainstormed on what some of the most obvious myths might be that we could investigate. So we started with “where are we?” It seems like an obvious question, but as we investigated it was apparent that even when people get here, they are unsure where they are, or even what country they are in. Many people, confused by the Border Patrol, US Customs and security check in surmise that they are leaving the country, I am not making this up. So just in case you were wondering, we are on South Bass Island, Put-in-Bay Township, Ottawa County Ohio!

The next “towering” question for us was “where’s the Monument” or “have you seen the big lighthouse? “ The War of 1812 is still a vague history story for many Americans. Shockingly, “The Battle of Lake Erie” does not even glean a flicker of recognition for many visiting adults queried. Sometimes if you drill down on the subject of The War of 1812, Commodore Perry, and the Battle of Lake Erie you get some sense of recognition when you mention the famous slogan and flag “Don’t give up the ship”, though many are surprised to hear about the connection with our island history!

So we set out to clear up this myth and establish once and for all that the tall tower is in fact the monument, aka Perry’s Victory and International Peace Memorial. We interviewed people from The Ohio State University and the National Park Service and they confirmed that in fact the tall building near the down town is a national monument not a light house. But just incase you were wondering, there is also a decommissioned light house, called the South Bass Island Light House, built in 1897, at the west end of the island (where the tunnel to the mainland is located).

Well anyway the tunnel story is discussion for another column, but if you want to check out the answers we got, visit our website http://www.mythsofputinbay.com and watch our videos. Tell your friends. And if you have a myth you want to share please leave us a comment.

Humankind-Amazing Local Music

Eden Brent wowed the crowd!

 

As a kid I used to love to fool around on the piano for countless hours. I did not have a clue about what I was doing, but I had a great time. Then I took about 7 years of keyboard lessons trying to learn how to play the Organ. At the “pinnacle” of my ability I was able to eek out a passable version of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (The Phantom of the Opera theme).Even though I learned how to play, I really don’t know my A chord from a G these days but I still love music. I can’t seem to get enough records, cds, mp3s, (just ask my wife), of great music from just about any musical genre.

I love live music, especially when it is done well. Here in Put-in-Bay we have some great music choices. The perennial favorites like Pat Daily, JD Owen, Mad Dog Adams, Bob Gatewood, Ray Fogg, and West Side Steve keep their fans coming back to the island year after year. Popular regional bands like Mustang Sally, The Menus, The Maxx Band, The Paradise Band, Wally and the Beaves “pack the house” which is great for business. I live in the village, but not right downtown, and I know you can hear a live band just about every day of the summer somewhere. The list of bands coming to the island every summer is long, but I long for more, more bands, more choices, and more styles of music too (especially when it is free!)

This summer there are some great bands coming to Put-in-Bay that are, to use a cliché, outside the box of what we normally get. On July 6th a group from Detroit called Terrie Lea and the Mustangs came and opened the Twilight Music Series at the monument to rave reviews. A little country, a little rockabilly, with a nice tribute to Johnny Cash, Terrie provided a great sound for the Put-in-Bay Arts Council’s “American Originals” concert series. They have won the Detroit Music awards for best country a dozen times.

I search for good music, and last summer I went with friends to Cleveland Metroparks to a blue grass festival and heard Missy Raines and the New Hip from Tennessee. Her band tours the country doing festivals and concerts all year long. Missy is an amazing award winning bass player and the band plays Blue Grass jazz. I hope you didn’t miss Missy Raines and the New Hip on July 21st.

I got a phone call one day; a person from Columbus had heard that we have Eden Brent coming to the island. They wanted to get tickets. I told them the concert was free! On August 4th we are pleased and amazed to get Eden Brent, a blues piano player, from Mississippi. Eden has a sultry voice and is the real deal when it comes to authentic Mississippi blues music. Last winter she came through Cleveland, playing at the Winchester in Lakewood. You could not get a seat.
The final concert of our Twilight Music Series on August 18th is Mo’ Mojo. They are smokin’ hot and play Cajun Zydeco. I don’t remember a real Zydeco band ever coming to the island. If you are a music lover and want to dance too, bring your sweetheart. I promise you that you can’t escape the infectious sounds of Zydeco and that toe tapping feeling will certainly come over you.

One last note on local music, there is a band of real Put-in-Bay Island guys that have been seen playing at Walleyes, Tippers and the Fish Bowl. They go by the low-key name of “The Island Band” to blend in. I guarantee you will enjoy their show and may even be asked to come on stage and play tambourine.

May-vember

Finally, after the first nice weekend of the season, we can finally put thoughts of snow behind us. This past May has been the coldest rainiest “winter” I can remember. Many here on the island were still wearing hats, gloves and warm socks half way through the month of May, seriously. No tropical nights on this island. When I used to live in Vermont the local wisdom there was to leave your snow tires on from October 15th through May 15th and it felt a lot like that here this year.
I like to think of this as a weather experience bonus for the summer people however, because many of them really have no idea what they are missing here on the island during the winter months. For most coming to the island is a summer activity, one that builds memories of warm summer nights, festivals, family get-togethers, cool breezes off the lake, and wonderful nightlife. I can guarantee that with the exception of the cool breezes none of that happens here in January.
But if you have ever mentioned to a mainlander that you live here all year round, they invariably ask you about winter life, groceries, gas, and getting to the mainland. I have refined this response to a few informative sentences. “Island life is not for those with chronic health problems, we don’t have any doctors but we have a great EMS service and we use Life flight in emergencies. You need a freezer to stock up on groceries in the fall and if we need to get to the mainland we fly on and off in a small six-seater airplane, which costs $40 dollars per person each way for a 5 minute trip”.
Winter island life is defined by ice fishing. And if you like Ice fishing, winter here is really all about catching Walleye. As soon as the ice gets strong enough to support the shanties, fisherman migrate from Wisconsin, Minnesota and beyond to catch a trophy fish. Perch is my favorite to eat actually, and thankfully they just don’t look that great over the mantle. This was a good year for ice, not so much for fishing, but it still helped to provide some winter commerce here on the island.
With snow on the ground and ice on the bay Snowmobiles and ATV’s finally have real purpose. And when a new snow first falls, the main roads here become the perfect trails for the snowmobiles and cross-country skiers alike. The guys who plow have spent years perfecting “snow grooming” that helps transform our island into a winter sportsmen’s paradise. Snow tubing takes on a unique form as kids are seen trailing behind their parents ATV as they head down the road.
On one perfect winter weekend we decided to go golf carting. We have found that we can get just about anywhere on the island in our cart. This year we decided to follow go the next step further and venture out on the ice following the ATV tracks. Golf carts are amazing vehicles and with some knobby tires and careful driving we found we could navigate the ice no problem. You should have seen the reactions we got as we drove past the fishermen out by Green Island.
For many, winter evening entertainment is playing cards. Euchre at Tippers on Wednesday is always entertaining and poker and bridge can be found at the senior center and else where. And while you can play cards anytime of the year, the winter doldrums are chased away with a night out.
I guess what comes from the quiet of winter here is a time to foster the growth of “community” and build on friendships here in Put-in-Bay. Because the hectic summer leaves so many islanders over taxed and time challenged. I am thankful for the quiet enjoyment of our island in the winter and the time we get to spend with friends that disappears in the heat of the summer, so while the weather is now seasonally warm and business has begun to hum again, I will truly miss those cold days and nights of winter, even the ones in May.

Hollywood and Wine

Last summer we made the trek to Hollywood California in search of Put-in-Bay’s most famous movie star Ann Harding (who has not one but two stars on the boulevard). We saw Grumman’s Chinese Theater, the Hollywood “walk of fame” and took the prerequisite “tour of the stars”. It was horrible, the tour I mean, the guide was a really bad comedian and we did not see one star. That’s because smart stars (though perhaps not Charlie Sheen) would not be seen in the daylight at most of those “so last year” hot spots on the tour. But America continues to flock to Hollywood because we are truly star struck. We are always optimistic that the stars will come out and we will be the lucky ones to spot a famous emerging star like Robert Pattinson (Water for Elephants, Twilight).
I have to believe that every summer when folks come to Put-in-Bay they probably think they might see a star or two as well. Why not, we are a popular summer destination and it’s a fun place to visit. Back in the 40’s and 50’s sport and movies stars would go on bus tours across the country. The route was often along Route 6, from Cleveland to Chicago. In fact the Island House Hotel and Restaurant in Port Clinton was a very popular lunch spot along the way. But few ever made it to the island then and fewer still do today.
Last summer while giving tours I did not see one famous person, though there are always rumors. The “soup Nazi” Larry Thomas made famous in Seinfeld is the most often mentioned. I know of one actress, Mary McCann, who grew up on the island and has a very successful career in New York Theater and television, but we have not had any big stars reside in Put-in-Bay lately. The last “star” of that magnitude would have been writer and playwright Shel Silverstein in the nineties.
I understand that Paul Lynde (center square on Hollywood Squares), who grow up in Mt. Vernon Ohio, was employed at the Boat House one summer, but that was before he was a “star”. I have been told that character actor Jack Murdock spent some summers on the island. A sci-fi regular he was in many films including “Rain Man” and “Big Top Pee Wee”. Most of our brushes with fame are really fleeting these days. Unless you count Mike Rowe from “Dirty Jobs” filming the two segments about our Snake Lady Kristin Stanford or MTV “Cribs” that came to the islands this spring, we are not on the Hollywood tour any more.
Truth is that the island has not been a hot spot for Hollywood ever, but perhaps back in the 20’s and 30’s especially during prohibition Put-in-Bay was a destination of choice for vaudevillian actors. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the location, but In 1918 America’s sweetheart Mary Pickford (who?) the most popular silent screen actress ever may have spent a summer on the island. Then in the 20’s Ann Harding (who stared in over 60 Hollywood films) and her husband Harry Banister were on the island for about 9 summers. They came here because of that vaudeville connection, (or was it the wine, hmm). And in 1940 Ann came back to Put-in-Bay for a day with “Philadelphia Story” star Katharine Hepburn. But anyone younger than 40 probably does not even have a clue who these stars were.
Sadly, we are not on the Hollywood “a” list anymore, so lets do something about it. I think we should start a Film festival. Invite filmmakers and their stars to the island. We’ll call it the Bass Island Film Festival. We can be like Martha’s Vineyard, Sundance or Telluride Film Festivals and capitalize on our great location and venues. We can start with an Ann Harding retrospective. I think our crisscrossed history with the glory days of Hollywood should be the springboard to fame and the new Hollywood place to be. Imagine Katie Holmes (from Toledo), who is now separated from Tom Cruise hanging out at one of our island bistros with Oscar winning actress Halle Berry from Cleveland. It could happen but I need your help. Send me an email with your brush with fame on the island, a connection to someone famous, or be a movie mogul so that we can get this going and make the island home to the hippest new festival. I know we can do it. Drop me a line at director@leifilmsociety.org. The stars are out there.

Beyond Belief-High Water Marks

The Tsunami that hit Japan on Friday March 11 was devastating, the destruction beyond comprehension. No matter where you are on earth there is or will be a natural disaster du-jour. Some force of nature that will at some point change lives forever. These 100-year events (as they’re so often called) are forgotten as time goes by. Like childbirth, the memories of pain will ease with time, but not the lasting effects. A nearly overlooked part of the recent tsunami story was the destruction that it did to the small town of Crescent City, California. It was just a blip on the bigger page of news from Japan.

My son lives in Crescent City and when trying to describe the town, I usually tell people it is near the Avenue of Giants, the Redwood Forest, on California Coastal Highway 101 just a few miles south of Oregon. But more importantly it was the only city in North America to be badly hit in the 1964 Tsunami caused by the Alaskan Earthquake.

According to a recent NPR report, on Good Friday (March 27)1964, the largest earthquake ever recorded in North America struck Anchorage, Alaska. “Shifting tectonic plates displacing billions of tons of ocean water sent tsunami waves rushing at the speed of a jetliner down the coast of the Pacific Northwest. That tsunami struck several coastal communities, but its biggest punch was saved for Crescent City, Calif., a small (bustling) lumber and fishing town of about 3,000 residents just south of the Oregon border.”

The destruction done by the ‘64 Tsunami was incredible. Four fifty foot waves that reached near sonic speeds hurled buildings and boats across the town’s waterfront. Buildings destroyed and never replaced. The community was devastated. Emotionally and psychologically scarred, it has never really recovered. This past month tsunami waves swept 4 people out to sea in Crescent City and destroyed their inner harbor, but a sea wall built after the 1964 tsunami protected the remaining downtown area. And compared to Japan it was just a scratch. Still, the community of Crescent City will perhaps never recover from the trauma inflicted by that first tsunami. But they are still very lucky compared to the citizens of northern Japan. There’s perhaps a lesson to be learned from all this.

Put-in-Bay is not immune to disaster; countless severe storms have lashed our coastline and created short term flooding and damage. Catharine Hadley of the Port Clinton News Herald reported in February that the April flood of 1930, “A Flood to Remember” ravaged Port Clinton and the islands. The level of the Portage River then, was nearly 5 feet above normal. This storm was first reported in the April 18th, 1930 edition of the Republican Herald newspaper in a story titled “Flood Damage Estimated At Nearly $100,000!”. I bet adjusted for today’s rebuilding costs that would have been in the hundreds of millions.

While that storm left its scars, perhaps nothing still compares to the high water experienced here in the mid eighties. In fact according to the ODNR in June of 1986 Lake Erie reached its all time highest recorded level ever! Many islanders may recall the summer of ‘86 and the damage done. Because the Lake Erie watershed is protected from being used as an exportable water supply, the average lake water levels have remained fairly consistent from year to year. But that summer, Lake Erie rose nearly two feet above the average mean water level.

The road from downtown to the east end of the island was intermittently under water for most of the year. The Monument was often flooded and inaccessible except by boat or high waist boots. As late as December of that year, flooding persisted across the region. A family from Monroe County Michigan was photographed on a raft floating away from their home after a winter storm caused flooding and featured on the front page of the New York Times.

While there was no one single storm or event that caused that years’ flooding, high water managed to wreak havoc on all the islands for the better part of a year. The long-term ‘86 flood effects lasted for years, including mold and mildew damage, erosion and soil contamination, and even changes in our new home construction codes. It was a year of distress now forgotten. Perhaps because of the long slow lingering effects to our community, is exactly why it has been allowed to drift way from our collective consciousness memory.

Many disasters hit quickly, headlines today, gone tomorrow. What we don’t see is the aftermath and the slow recovery. Hopefully it will be some time again before we are a featured disaster. History, like our memory, dims unless the facts are retold or relived (like in Crescent City). We are lucky to have dodged major disaster here for 25 years. In the meanwhile the American Red Cross and many worthy humanitarian organizations are still accepting donations for Tsunami relief in Crescent City, the northern prefectures of Japan, the earthquake in Haiti, the rebuilding of New Orleans after Katrina…..The list is long; our memory often is not.

GPS (Going Past Stupid)

It is my opinion that GPS (Global Positioning System) is somewhere between being a lifesaver and the most annoying technological device ever created. I first encountered GPS in 2001 while visiting Japan. Our driver was using the GPS to get us to our meetings on time. The personality of this GPS device was a young Japanese woman. A quick diatribe here, many people choose women over men’s voices to give them directions, hmmm. So any way every time the woman gave our driver a direction, he bowed to the device and responded loudly はい (hi is yes in Japanese). At the end of our trip he bowed and thanked the device.

Well this is way more respect than I have for my GPS. Last month I was on a trip driving back from the east coast. A large snowstorm was on the way and I needed to get back to the island. I often take time to research my route using Google Maps before I go and have strong opinions formed about my route selection, but it turns out so does the GPS. Somewhere many years ago a software engineer designed a program based on algorithms that determine route selection using weighted parameters including shortest distance, tolls, fastest time and road type. But common sense was not included in this equation. So here I am going down the road and the GPS is telling me to turn off the highway I am on, but I am certain that staying on is my best choice given the path of the storm. Well the GPS gets really upset and starts telling me to get off go back. It is me versus the devil. The GPS is essentially saying, “You’re going past the exit stupid”. This really annoying problem persisted for 20 miles before I shut it off and restarted it. I will NOT be told what to do by a device.

Now here is the most important thing to remember, most low-level consumer GPS devices do not account for weather or traffic delays. So here I am faced with my GPS clearly steering me towards the storm, while my instincts are telling me to go the other way. Now remember men don’t ask for directions, but we all need to at least have a map or atlas close by, because faced with being in a place we do not know and depending on a device that uses maps last updated 5 years ago, you learn that it can and will take you places you do not want to go.

Which is exactly what happened to me. With no map handy, in an area I don’t know well, I decided to “trust” my GPS. Why I let myself be sucked into its directions I will never understand. Thanks to my GPS, we could not have made a shorter “Bee line” to the worst part of the storm and biggest traffic snarl. Here I am sitting on Interstate 84, a foot of snow on the ground and the highway is closed, but at least I know where I am, marooned by my GPS!

So how does this relate to our island, well last summer I saw my first golf cart with a GPS on the island. At first, I was surprised, and then a bit worried. What if an unsuspecting user follows the GPS through the dirt roads of Victory Woods or looks for the missing portion of Erie Road or Victory Lane? Our older island maps have many roads, alleys and lanes that exist only in the minds of a few of our oldest islanders.

But the good news is if there ever was a place where GPS can’t really hurt you it is on an island. Sooner or later any man without a map can find his way to some significant place on the island and call it intentional. I have spoken with a few folks that have enjoyed long detours following their instincts while on the island. They don’t need ‘no stinking map”, so a GPS can’t really hurt I suppose. Maybe it replaces all the island maps. We can save some trees, reduce wasted “island time” (or is that “wasted island time”) and provide some extra revenue for the rental companies.

By the way, a footnote to my earlier story, I decided to get off the highway follow my instincts and finally the GPS helped me navigate around the closed highway and got me to a hotel. Which as it turned out was the best advice I have ever gotten from my GPS.

The Waiting Room- For Mom

Alzheimer’s (and/or dementia) is a disease that takes family and friends along on a journey to dark places with the afflicted loved one that they can never return from. We can only share a few brief momentary glimpses into their spiraling journey to that world. A place they can’t describe and we can only imagine exists. Inspired by existentialist writer John Barth’s “Night-Sea Journey” (from short stories collection “Lost in the Fun House”). I wanted to write my vision for what this journey is all about. Sitting here in the Alzheimer’s wing of a small nursing home bedside with my mom today as she heads to the gates of her final departure. I needed to write “The waiting Room”. In memory of Elizabeth Curtis McCarthy Huston 1930-2011

THE WAITING ROOM

Today I got the call that I am on the short list. It’s like winning the lottery. They told me to come ahead, get ready to establish my place in line, to remain near by and be ready for the call. My family has come and we have packed my apartment up, sold off the extraneous belongings and narrowed down what I need for the trip. I read that Ancient Egyptians used to plan for their astral passage, contemplating all they would need for their long journey to the next world. But this is different more real than that fictional journey. We are going to actually journey beyond the typical travel destinations. This is a trip of a lifetime.

My mother tried to take this trip but she got tired and missed the call. I will be ready and in position when they call. This is a chance of a lifetime.
I am sitting here in the waiting room today, my small quarters nearby. Food is provided and regular activities are organized to help pass the time. While life is comfortable here, days run into weeks and months. The staff tries to get us to go on “short” excursions away from the waiting room, but I know I need to be here. I’m not sure when I will get the call, but I am ready my bags are packed. Every morning I arrive early, often I am last to leave. Many sit here with me, some days we talk for hours other days we just sit in silence and contemplate our readiness. Some believe this journey is to another part of the solar system, others believe it is just a long cruise with a special guide who will take us past the known realms of our imagination. I have spent years reading and learning about the trip and I am certain that it will be all that they have promised.

It has been a very long wait. It is becoming so lonely to sit here. I have realized now that if I keep my focus I will be picked to move on. So many others sitting here have tired of the waiting and finally go back home. Some just don’t believe that anyone will get the call. They are waiting for nothing, lost their focus, and it drags down the hopes of the few who still have faith in the system. Some days I think back to my friends and life back home. I know they miss me, I miss them. We write letters back and forth from time to time. I enjoy hearing from them, but I don’t seem to have much to tell them these days. They don’t realize that this is a full time job. All my attention must be focused on being ready.

Day after day the group waiting here grows wearier. I can’t really spend time explaining to them why they need to persevere. I know the trip is worth the wait. I know this because I spent time with some of my friends and relatives who made the trip. I spent time visiting with them while they sat in the waiting room.

There are people here in the waiting room working undercover. Their job is to test us to see who is really ready to go. I am on to their tricks. I know that my actions and discerning perceptions, and insightful responses to their queries will impress them and allow me to be picked soon. Last night I had a dream, the call is coming today I know it. Then today I heard it…my name was called. It happened while I was meditating, focused on the coming journey. When I heard my name, I looked up to the messenger from headquarters. They came in person. I knew they would. I now realize that I don’t need much but my clothes and a few personal items and some photos. It was a cold journey out doors beyond the large waiting area. We have moved from that outer waiting room to the smaller inner waiting room. Just one “door “remains ahead. This is the staging area for leaving. I can tell this group has the same goals as I, to be picked for the next departure.

Time has passed now and some days I lose site of the reasons I am here. One day I had a sensation that came over me that I should go home, but it passed. From time to time someone will leave. I really don’t know where we are headed, sitting here day after day with this team of potential travel companions, we discuss the journey but only in code. The staff here in this room is still trying to weed us out, to send us away. I will resist.

I think it finally is my turn. I have been picked to make this trip. I have been preparing for weeks. I have focused on my diet and my mind is working on the task at hand. So many of the extraneous noises and distractions seem to be unimportant now. I keep my mind open and ready to leave at a moments notice. When they call my name I will be ready. It turns out that I need nothing but a positive attitude and willing spirit to go forward. No bags or clothes or special equipment is required. I spent the last few months shedding my mental ties to extraneous objects.

Mediation and determination are my main interests now. I work through the jobs at hand preparing to leave. Sorting through memories and motivation for this journey. I had no idea that this would take so long. Family and friends have come and gone. I know they linger, often hoping I will return with them. They want me to leave the waiting room. But after making such a concerted effort to be here I can see no reason to turn back. I know they love me and want the best for me. The days seem to drag into weeks, an hour like a month. Time is irrelevant. All around me has become a blur. Darkness seems to linger longer now. I lay here in my travel capsule, body and mind prepared, muscles relaxed. I can hear them coming, the count down has started.

Humankind- Shopping Roulette (or it’s Good to Give)

One of the most asked questions, (perhaps the most asked question) I get during the summer while giving tours is “What is it like here in the winter?’ It is often hard to hold my tongue and answer seriously, but usually my first response is “quiet really quiet”. Of course it must be difficult for visitors to envision that all the stores, restaurants and bars ever close. And even more difficult to imagine us out ice fishing, playing cards on Wednesday nights, or catching up on all the chores on the “honey do” list. But the weeks between Halloween and New Years are my favorite. You know just about everyone on the ferry, and if you don’t it doesn’t take long to find out why they’re on the island.

Usually a nosey question or two is all that is needed, (always a reporters best friend). Construction workers, sales people, and service providers from furnace repairmen to satellite TV make their last house call of the season before the boat stops running. There is such purpose to this time of year. Everyone is headed to a doctors’ appointment or buying supplies for a winter project or just getting all the final food shopping needed for the winter. I see parents and grandparents getting holiday presents and going shopping just because they can. It is a small pleasure for many to just spend leisurely hours in a mall or in a large “do-it yourself’ store. We get some time to indulge ourselves, or at least in the fantasy of personal gratification. For me it is test-driving new cars.

After all the rush back and forth is complete we get a minute to reflect on what is important. Perhaps it is time to catch up on letter writing or contacting friends and family. Maybe it is a time to spend sharing our time or talents with others like Joe Foutts does teaching and advising the new high school drama club (come join us for the play “Scrooge” December 9,10,11). I like to spend a little of this time thinking about how I may be able to give back to others (before tax time of course).

Perhaps before the years end you may contemplate giving to your favorite charity, making a contribution to your church or looking at ways to make a difference in our community. Last month I got to write a story about Community Foundations, like the Ottawa County and Toledo Community Foundations and the important role they play for our local non-profits. TCF is actually a collection of funds. Some provide scholarships for our children, or help local non-profits complete their specific missions, others that provide unrestricted funds for achieving good for the community. You may not realize that one of those funds does great things behind the scenes right here on the Bass Islands.

The “William E. Market Family Community Fund”, established in 2008 by Mary Ann Market as a tribute to her late husband “boss” Bill Market, is one of these special funds. The Markets have long been supporters of the arts, church and civic organizations. Mary Ann hoped that the Market Family Fund would be able to contribute a modest amount of money each year to a worthy project, non-profit, or community organization on Put-in-Bay, Middle Bass Island, or North Bass Island. In 2008 a contribution was given to the Put-in-Bay EMS and in 2010 a donation was given to the Put-in-Bay Volunteer Fire Department (there was no contribution made in 2009 due to those wonderful folks from Wall Street).

Anyone is welcome to contribute to this fund that is coordinated through the Toledo Community Foundation. There are so many great ways to give back to our community, supporting a fund like this or any of the Toledo Community funds that provide hope for our community and county are great choices for giving a lasting gift for years to come. So don’t worry, if you find yourself fearing the shopping roulette wheel of fortune, getting the right gift for that hard to shop for family member is only a stamp and envelope away. Send a gift that will keep on giving this season. And please don’t tell the mainlanders how much fun we really have here in the winter you’ll only encourage them to come and stay. (For more information about the William E. Market Family Community Fund, please contact Julene Market.)

Beyond Belief-Trashed

During the summer you may have noticed that we get trashed, and I don’t just mean the kids involved with the bar tender Olympics either. Piles of wrappers, pizza boxes, beer cans, and cups are strewn everywhere. I really don’t have to go very far at all to report this story. Almost daily during the summer I go out in our front yard and collect the trash that has accumulated in the bushes and along the street. Some of it gets there by accident, but some is deliberate toss offs. I have seen this happen more times than I care to share. Perhaps you remember the famous 70’s television public service announcement (PSA) “Keep America Beautiful” with the native American man witnessing the complete “uglying” of America. At the end of the thirty seconds he turns to the camera with a tear in his eye.

That is exactly how I feel, except I would be yelling, especially if I see another person tossing their trash on our front lawn. I am thinking of becoming a trash vigilante. Cigarette smokers seem to be the worst (forgive me I have many friends who smoke) but they ride along in the golf carts and flick their butts in and along the road. Despite what you may think it takes a very long time for the filters and paper to breakdown. Meanwhile it just looks bad. If I had half a chance I would grab the dead butt and hand it back to them.

Just go by the town parking lots, school lawn or ball field on a weekend morning and what do you see, trash everywhere. And if there was ever a pit of trash, the dumpsters along the water front, as big as they are, can’t seem to attract the plethora of trash and empty pizza boxes that end up strewn across DeRivera Park after a busy night.

People consume and dispose of their trash most of the time. While many probably make an effort to find a garbage can, a surprisingly large number don’t seem to care. I don’t think we can change this behavior, though with some signage we could probably make a few feel guilty enough to try.

During the summer season we spend many thousands of dollars and countless employee man-hours removing trash from our public places. Luckily these days much of the trash we generate can be recycled. And if we catch it before it gets mixed into a dumpster we can at least reduce the smelly garbage from the paper and plastic. So this rant is really a thank you note to all the people here on the island who do make a difference cleaning up the trash. You see them daily making their rounds. They clean up and make our island look tidy so the next group of visitors finds the island clean and appealing. From the township guys, to the Put-in-Bay employees, the DeRivera Trustee workers, the ball players and other regular folk making a personal effort trying to help keep our community looking nice. Thank you everyone!

I am not certain if we will ever overcome the trash problem created by our summer visitors, perhaps it is the price we pay for being a popular destination. But with recycling we can reduce the problem. By the way just in case you missed it, recycling hours at the Township center have changed recently. The new hours are 8-noon Wednesday and Saturday. That notice at the Post Office was what spurred me on to write this. Hope to see you on recycling day.

Beyond Belief- Local Profile, or “what about Bob?”

Benjamin Franklin once commented that “any man who would trade liberty for security deserves neither.” Now we know that there are a lot of unsavory characters out there and I guess one actually tried to get to Put-in Bay again this summer. Thank goodness we are so well protected here on America’s northern border with Canada. On any given day you have the US Coast Guard, the Border Patrol, Customs and Immigration, the ATF, and Homeland Security working hand in hand to defend our border to keep those pesky Canadians and other foreigners (like people from Michigan) from coming here by boat to visit Put-in-Bay. I want to tell you about one such character who slipped through the gauntlet two years ago, his name was , well lets just say “Bob”. Thanks to the Patriot act and effective profiling, our government has made it nearly impossible for these covert “tourists” to cross the border, but Bob managed to pierce the veil.

It was 8pm on a Friday late August, and after just having a last minute cancellation at our B&B I was a bit dejected and looking to get a beer. My story about Bob could have happened to anyone. A chance meeting in a local pub, and a subsequent conversation that led to a story of intrigue that will amaze and remind you of the evil lurking about our island…We all know that Homeland Security, which is one of America’s “black budgeted” departments, has spared no expense in keeping us all safe since they were put on the payroll in 2002, well at least on weekends. Islanders tell us that they have installed a monitoring and tracking station on North Bass that follows all the vessel traffic great and small in the western basin and they have a couple of high speed chase boats that would make any rum runner swoon with envy.

Never the less “Bob” got here on the Jet express in broad daylight on that Friday afternoon. Dressed as a tourist looking for “Margaritaville”, Bob who appeared to be about 60 years old, had made it to the island equipped only with his Blackberry® and a wallet. He was here in his words “to study the short term dating habits of single women.” But the 48 hours he spent here changed my perspective on what an undercover agent is all about, and would send shivers up the back of any dutiful protector of liberty and justice.

Bob is an Englishman, now a US citizen and said he was a CIA operative retired, ( I am not making this up), though he said “you never really retire”. While sitting at the bar finishing dinner he told me this story. He was a young nuclear physicist working at Cambridge University in the early 70’s studying the decay of certain types of nuclear fuels when one afternoon he was hastily summoned to 10 Downey Street (The office and home of the British Prime Minister). It seems that Richard Nixon had just signed a nuclear disarmament treaty and the US needed to disarm some bombs from the cold war era immediately. Bob it turned out had the exact skills to do this specialized task. So he was immediately flown on Air Force 2 to just out side Washington DC and whisked by the Secret Service to the White House. Less than 12 hours later he was standing in the oval office with Richard Nixon being sworn in as a US citizen. Bob told me he spent the next few years involved in nuclear espionage and as a covert operative in Southeast Asia. Trained as a pilot he flew helicopter gunship rescues into Laos and Cambodia before heading off to Taiwan to “negotiate” with the Chinese, then he decided it was time to retire.

After living such an exciting life, Bob told me he had decided to take up the “low stress” hobby of day trading. Bob explained that he had written a web based search program that would send specific stock trading updates to his Blackberry® on trends so he could make quick trades while he roamed about. How he had ended up on South Bass Island is still a mystery to me, but he was looking to spend the night. It just so happened that I had an empty room. Perfect timing. The next morning at the breakfast table Bob was the center of conversation. He had everyone laughing and sharing stories of first dates and overseas vacation nightmares. After breakfast Bob asked me to take him to Fox’s Dock so he could leave. The following day when I was back down at the dock I spotted Bob now in all new clothes from one of our PIB fashion stores with a youngish lady boarding the boat. It appeared that Bob had completed his primary mission and now was ready to escape the island. I am sure there have been other Bobs, but I will always wonder what Bob did with that missing 24 hours after he left our B&B. One can only wonder what possible “tourist” activities Bob managed while here.

If this had happened this summer, with Homeland Security’s beefed up presence, their helicopter with a belly mounted camera with sensitive optics and remote tracking for profiling anyone walking about on the island, I am sure Bob would never have escaped. In fact on June 20th that helicopter played a key roll hovering over the island downtown to track the “tourist” that had made it here from Canada. When they had confirmed that the “tourist” was on loose, and I am not making this up, they sent dog sniffing K-9 units to the Miller Ferry just in case he tried to leave. I have always suspected that Canadians smelled different and this just confirmed it. For all the “Bob’s” out there thank goodness for the local profiling by our government, so when you see the helicopter hovering be sure to wave and smile. you just never know who might be your next chance meeting.