Keep A-Pluggin' Away

The Wright Brothers are not the only iconic sons of Ohio’s Miami Valley. I remember seeing his face on a postage stamp in 1975, but never really knew all the details of his interesting and inspirational life. I only recently discovered his home is part of the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park, which meant I could learn more about the famous poet AND score another stamp in my National Parks Passport. Sign me up for the tour!

Paul Laurence Dunbar was born in 1872 in Dayton to former slaves. His parents instilled in him a love of learning, and he began reading and writing poetry as early as age 6. He was nicknamed “Deacon” for the solemn manner in which he recited.

Paul was the only African-American at Dayton’s Central High School, which he attended with classmate Orville Wright. Though he often had difficulty finding employment because of his race, he actively participated in school as a member of the debating society, editor of the school newspaper, and president of the school’s literary society. He also published a newspaper for the African-American community, the Dayton Tattler, which the Wrights printed for him. After graduation, however, Paul faced the realities of racism.

Paul worked as an elevator operator in the Callahan Building and wrote on the job between calls. His break came when he was asked to address the Western Association of Writers when the organization met in Dayton. A poet in the audience was impressed by Paul and penned a newspaper article about him. It was read by James Whitcomb Riley, the “Hoosier Poet.” Both he and Paul wrote in Standard English and dialect. With encouragement from Riley, Paul’s first book of poems, Oak and Ivy, was published in 1892. He continued to work as an elevator operator to help pay his debt to the publisher and until he could establish himself nationally as a writer. He sold his book for a dollar to elevator passengers. As more people came in contact with his work, his reputation spread.

His second book, Majors and Minors (1895) garnered him the support of literary critic William Dean Howells. Howells ultimately wrote the introduction for Lyrics of Lowly Life, a publication which combined Paul’s first two books. Paul’s essays and poems were soon widely published in the leading journals of the day.

After Paul returned from a literary tour in London, he married writer Alice Moore in 1898 and took a job at the Library of Congress. In 1900, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis and moved to Colorado with his wife on the advice of his doctor. Paul and Alice separated in 1902 but never divorced. He returned to Dayton to be with his mother and, in 1903, purchased a home for her. They resided there together until he succumbed to his illness in 1906; Matilda maintained the residence until she passed in 1934. The house at 219 North Summit Street (now Paul Laurence Dunbar Street) would become the first public memorial to honor an African American.

In 1936 the Ohio Legislature dedicated the house to commemorate Paul Laurence Dunbar and delegated its care to the Ohio Historical Society. Two years later, it was opened to the public. In 1962 it was declared a national historic landmark and became part of the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park in 1992. A major renovation in 2003 restored the house to the way it appeared when Paul lived there with his mother.

The Italianate turn-of-the-century structure exhibits Paul’s literary treasures, personal items and family furnishings. Among items on display are his bicycle built by the Wright brothers, the desk and chair where the poet composed much of his work, his collection of Native American art, and a ceremonial sword presented to him by President Theodore Roosevelt.

Paul authored four collected volumes of short stories, five novels, three published plays, lyrics for 13 songs, 14 books of poetry, 400 published poems, and uncounted essays on social and racial topics over a 13-year period. Although he only lived to be 33 years old, he became the first African-American writer to gain national recognition and international acclaim.

As a wannabe writer, I was moved by the story of Paul Laurence Dunbar and inspired by his works. The following especially spoke to me. Literary history. Good stuff!

KEEP A-PLUGGIN’ AWAY

I’ve a humble little motto

That is homely, though it’s true,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

It’s a thing when I’ve an object

That I always try to do,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

When you’ve rising storms to quell,

When opposing waters swell,

It will never fail to tell,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

If the hills are high before

And the paths are hard to climb,

Keep a-pluggin away.

And remember that successes

Come to him who bides his time,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

From the greatest to the least,

None are from the rule released.

Be thou toiler, poet, priest,

Keep a-pluggin away.

Delve away beneath the surface,

There is treasure farther down,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

Let the rain come down in torrents,

Let the threat’ning heavens frown,

Keep a-pluggin away.

When the clouds have rolled away,

There will come a brighter day

All your labor to repay,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

There’ll be lots of sneers to swallow,

There’ll be lots of pain to bear,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

If you’ve got your eye on heaven,

Some bright day you’ll wake up there,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

Perseverance still is king;

Time its sure reward will bring;

Work and wait unwearying,—

Keep a-pluggin away.

Look! It's a Bird! No ... it's an airplane!!!!

When I said we were getting up at the crack of dawn to road trip I wasn’t kidding. Dayton was our destination of choice and a 2.5-hour drive from the Toledo area. Add to that an hour of morning primping and the desire to arrive at the Aviation Heritage National Historic Park when it opened at 8:30 a.m. I’m calculator dependent; you do the math. Let’s just say I was neither bright-eyed nor bushy-tailed when we hit the road at o’dark thirty. True to form (and without harboring even an iota of guilt in shirking my navigator responsibilities with trusty Bernice Garmin leading the way), I snoozed for most of the drive down. When we arrived I was ready to soar through the birthplace of aviation.

The Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park was established to commemorate the lives and legacies of three exceptional Daytonians: Wilbur Wright, Orville Wright and Paul Laurence Dunbar. The park consists of four sites: The Wright Cycle Company Complex, Huffman Prairie Flying Field, the John W. Berry, Sr. Wright Brothers Aviation Center and the Dunbar House. I’ll save the latter for the next post and stick to the brothers Wright and their flying machine.

Wilbur and Orville were the third and sixth children, respectively, of Milton and Susan Koener Wright. The family often moved due to their father’s ministry in the Church of the United Brethren in Christ, but they eventually settled in at 7 Hawthorne Street in Dayton where they stayed for 30 years. The Wright brothers’ interest in aviation was first piqued in 1878 when Milton gave them a toy helicopter after one of his trips out west.

From childhood the Wright brothers tinkered, built and displayed an entrepreneurial spirit. In 1889 they formed a business partnership and opened a printing shop. They moved their business to the second floor corner suite of offices in the Hoover Block of West Dayton when it opened in 1890 and continued to operate there until 1895. This historic building is now the location of the main visitor center for the park.

In 1892 they responded to the bicycle craze sweeping the nation and also opened a repair and sales shop. Business boomed and soon overtook their print shop to become their primary livelihood.  They began manufacturing and selling bicycles of their own design, the Van Cleve and St. Claire, named after their ancestors. This became the first step on their path to the invention of the airplane. The building at 22 South William Street was the fourth bicycle shop operated by the Wrights and is the only building remaining as testament to their bicycle business. It was designated as a National Historic Landmark in 1990.

The news of German experimenter Otto Lillenthal’s death in a gliding accident in 1896 rekindled the Wrights’ interest in solving the problem of flight. Recognizing parallels between controlling a bicycle and an aircraft, they ultimately adapted bicycle technology to aeronautical design. Wilbur wrote to the Smithsonian Institute to discover what was already known on the subject of human flight. As soon as they received a reply, their work began. Their airplane was born in the back of their cycle shop.

On December 17, 1903, at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, Wilbur and Orville became the first in the world to make a controlled flight in a powered, heavier-than-air machine. This, however, was only the beginning. They would have to begin the long, laborious process of building a machine that could make lengthy, routine flights and safely land. This second phase in the invention of the airplane may not have been as well known as their first flight, but it was just as important. The Wright brothers decided to continue their flight experiments closer to home. Local banker Torrence Huffman offered them a cow pasture eight miles northeast of Dayton.

The first attempts in 1904 were less than impressive, but Wilbur and Orville worked on perfecting their airplane. To take off by engine power alone in Dayton’s light winds, the Wright brothers had to lay out as much as 240 feet of wooden rails. If the breeze shifted, the track had to be moved and pegged down again to face the new wind direction. But after they built a catapult, they could launch their flyer with only 60 feet of rail. A team of horses pulled a 1600-pound counterweight to the top of a wooden derrick. When the weight fell 16 feet, it added enough speed to get their flying machine airborne, regardless of wind direction and strength. They flew their first circle in September 1904 and had been airborne for five minutes by December.

The brothers were big on secrecy in the competitive race for aviation claim to fame. They even went so far as to paint their airplane components silver to lend the impression that the aircraft was constructed of metal instead of wood. They had originally built a hangar at the far end of the field in 1904 to keep their progress under wraps, but dissembled it at the end of the season. The following year they constructed a new hangar to store essential tools and house the invention that would change the world.

When spring arrived in 1905, the Wright brothers were at the flying field every day. Their hard work finally paid off in mid October when Wilbur amazed a small crowd with a 40-minute, 24-mile flight. He only landed because he ran out of gas. Although not the first to build and fly experimental aircraft, they had mastered the principals of controlled, powered flight and had perfected their machine into the world’s first practical airplane. They were ready to stop test flying, secure a patent and start marketing their invention.

Wilbur and Orville launched the Wright Company in Dayton in 1909 where they began making airplanes and training pilots a year later. Sadly, in 1912 Wilbur contracted typhoid fever while on a trip to Boston in early May and ultimately passed at the end of the month. He was 45 years old. Orville made his last flight as a pilot in 1918. In 1920 he was appointed to the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, a federal agency devoted to research and development for the nation’s aircraft industry. He remained on the NACA’s board for 28 years.

The Wright Memorial in Dayton, Ohio, a stone obelisk of pink granite from North Carolina, was erected by Daytonians in 1940 to honor the Wright brothers’ achievements. Orville attended the dedication of the monument on his 69th birthday, which overlooks the Huffman Prairie Flying Field.

The John W. Berry, Sr. Wright Brothers Aviation Center at Carillon Historical Park houses the original 1905 Wright Flyer III; it is the first airplane designated as a National Historic Landmark. In 1948 Orville assisted with the planning of Wright Hall. He wanted to show the plane below ground level so visitors could see it from above to understand how the controls operated.

Shortly thereafter, flags throughout the U.S. flew at half-staff after the nation learned he had succumbed to a heart attack. He was 75 years old.

Wilbur and Orville Wright never graduated from high school. Neither married. They were not wealthy nor were their experiments funded. They withdrew from the world and devoted themselves to their work. People thought they had taken leave of their senses. Yet, as inventors, builders and flyers, they further developed the airplane, taught man to fly and opened the era of aviation. Not bad for two brothers from Dayton, huh?

Taste of Maumee

You know I try to avoid chain restaurants like the plague, but I’m game if it’s done with a bit of a twist. The City of Maumee definitely knows how to shake things up a bit.

Maumee is located directly across the river from Perrysburg. Mark admittedly had forgotten all about its Summer Fair until we were en route back to his place and noticed signs. Kicking off the weekend was the Taste of Maumee. Nearly two dozen local restaurants (some of which were chain) were not only competing for the best decorated booth, but also tempted us with food and drink. We took a vote. Our growling stomachs won.

Things were in full swing by the time we parked the car and followed our noses. There were many mouth-watering delicacies to choose from, but we ultimately settled on ribs from Smokey Bones. You also know how I feel about ribs. In a word: Yum!

And we had arrived just in time for the lot party. Classic rock band After Midnight was on stage that evening. Since we were getting up at the crack of dawn for road trippin’ the next morning, we didn’t need to indulge in the beer fest. We saved ourselves the $5 cover fee and instead sat in the family area near the stage. It was the perfect place to people watch and jam to our favorite hits from the 70s before calling it a night.

Totally unplanned, great fun.  I love when that happens!

Luna Pier

I was once again off to Ohio for the weekend, but the first thing on our agenda was ironically back in Michigan.

In his travels for work Mark had stumbled upon an antique store in LaSalle, but only had time then for a quick look-see. When I arrived in Perrysburg, we turned around and traveled north to the American Heritage Antique Mall. After poking around for an hour or so, we both were successful in walking away with unique treasures. For just a few bucks I scored two tall, uniquely-shaped bottles to use as vases. Turns out they were made in Italy and used to house Galliano. Can you say Harvey Wallbanger? Oh the stories I could tell … if only I could remember them! But I have once again seriously digressed, haven’t I?

On our way back to Ohio, we detoured to Luna Pier. Located just this side of the state line along the coast of Lake Erie, it was one of the places Mark has briefly considered for his new home. Back in the day Lakewood, as Luna Pier was known in 1926, was considered the best spot for dancing under the stars. The lakefront community could be reached by regular street car service from downtown Toledo. It thrived during the Roaring 20s and remained a mecca for dancers through much of the Depression.

Though it initially functioned as a resort, the sleepy little town is now home to many year-round residences. Its most prominent feature is a large crescent-shaped pier which juts into Lake Erie. As much as we would have liked to check it out, the waves were dancing there today; we would have been drenched. But the sun bounced off the boogieing waters and we were treated to a series of mini rainbows. A bit difficult to capture in photograph, but lovely nonetheless.

We instead strolled down the walkway which parallels the beach. Beautiful scenery and small town atmosphere.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh … doesn't matter if it’s on the west side or the east side of the state.  I just love Michigan’s coastline!

Sing Your Own Song

Use what talents you possess ... the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.

~Author unknown

A Grand Reflection

Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.

~ Hans Margolius

Ambitious

The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

~ William Shakespeare

The Grand Spanner

The hardest thing in life is to know which bridge to cross and which to burn.

~David Russell

A piece of Grand Rapids history:

The Massillon Bridge Company of Ohio built the $31,000, four-span Sixth Street Bridge for Grand Rapids in 1886. The rust-resistant wrought iron used in its Pratt trusses accounts for its durability. In 1975 the bridge was slated for demolition, but concerned citizens convinced authorities to save it. This structure is the longest, oldest remaining metal bridge in Michigan, and was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1976.

Portal to Another World

There are things known and there are things unknown and in between are the Doors.

~ Jim Morrison

I see a red door and I want it painted black

When I saw this door and the rest of the interesting architectural detail of a south side church I frequently pass, I knew I had to photograph it in some, way, shape or form.  Though it wasn't my intent to paint it black, I had post-processing software at my fingertips and wanted to try something different. That’s part of what this blog is about, after all.

Shadows and highlights still baffle me when it comes to photography, and I don’t particularly care for the way the sun washed out the ends of the alcoves. Next time I’ll have to get up at the crack of dawn to rectify the light situation.

Yeah, you’re right. Like that’s gonna happen ...

Ah well, what’s a little trial and error in the spirit of experimentation?  The saving grace is that I am totally in love with the sepia tone.  You know, I do believe Mick Jager did say it best …

You can’t always get what you want

But if you try sometimes you just mind find

You get what you need

(read: Photoshop is a beautiful thing!)

A New Leaf

You will turn over many a futile new leaf till you learn we must all write on scratched-out pages.

~ Mignon McLaughlin

On the Fence?

Throw your heart over the fence and the rest will follow.

~ Norman Vincent Peale

Things are Looking Up!

Sometimes life has a way of putting us on our backs to force us to look up.

~ Charles L. Allen

Waiting for Love

It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.

~ William Carlos Williams

Color My World

Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the eight-color boxes, but what you’re really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I’ve got a few missing. It’s okay though, because I’ve got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the eight-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean, there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation. So when I meet someone who’s an eight-color type I’m like, “Hey girl, magenta!” and she’s like, “Oh, you mean purple!” and she goes off on her purple thing, and I’m like, “No, I want magenta!”

~John Mayer

Indulgence

Since, as a single girl, it’s just me in this wacky world of unpredictability, I’ve learned not to squander my hard earned pennies and to keep an eye on my checkbook balance. Even though I’ve found ways to cut corners and save a few bucks, every now and then this girly girl must splurge to do what she has to do. Yes, it may require eating macaroni and cheese for a week, but in my humble opinion the expense is well worth it.

Pedicures are my self-indulgence. I love the pampering: flipping through fashion magazines while succumbing to the vibrating chair, a foot massage and a fresh coat of OPI Red.

And wouldn’t you agree that it’s a much lovelier shade than the purple hue I’m yet again sporting on my little toe after going mano y mano with a wall this week? Ouch! Did I happen to mention I also dropped a file cabinet drawer on the same foot last night? Just call me Grace. Fortunately, while the floor may have chipped, my polish did not!

Not to worry. I’m healing and slowly but surely returning to the ranks of the stiletto clad. Hobbling around in flip flops does nothing for a girly girl’s image, after all.

Old Barns and Old People

Old Barns and Old People

Author Unknown

A stranger came by the other day with an offer that set me to thinking.

He wanted to buy the old barn that sits out by the highway.

I told him right off he was crazy.

He was a city type; you could tell by his clothes, his car, his hands and the way he talked.

He said he was driving by and saw that beautiful barn sitting out in the tall grass and wanted to know if it was for sale.

I told him he had a funny idea of beauty.

Sure, it was a handsome building in its day. But then, there’s been a lot of winters pass with their snow and ice and howling wind.

The summer sun’s beat down on that old barn ‘til all the paint’s gone and the wood has turned silver gray.

Now the old building leans a good deal, looking kind of tired.

Yet, that fellow called it beautiful.

That set me to thinking. I walked out to the field and just stood there, gazing at that old barn.

The stranger said he planned to use the lumber to line the walls of his den in a new country home he’s building down the road.

He said you couldn’t get paint that beautiful.

Only years of standing in the weather, bearing the storms and scorching sun, only that can produce beautiful barn wood.

It came to me then. We’re a lot like that, you and I.

Only it’s on the inside that the beauty grows with us.

Sure we turn silver gray too .... and lean a bit more than we did when we were young and full of sap ...

But the Good Lord knows what He’s doing.

And as the years pass He’s busy using the hard weather of our lives, the dry spells and the stormy seasons to do a job of beautifying our souls that nothing else can produce ...

And to think how often folks holler because they want life easy!

They took the old barn down today and hauled it away to beautify a rich man’s house.

And I reckon someday you and I’ll be hauled off to Heaven to take on whatever chores the Good Lord has for us on the Great Sky Ranch.

And I suspect we’ll be more beautiful then for the seasons we’ve been through here ... and just maybe even add a bit of beauty to our Father’s house.

May there be peace within you today. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

And I do sincerely thank God for my wonderful friends and family who care about me even though I show signs of weathering!

On the Right Track

Neither a wise nor a brave man lies down on the tracks of history to wait for the train of the future to run over him.

~Dwight D. Eisenhower

Life

Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.

~Hans Christian Anderson

Out of the Hand/Foot/Mouth of Babes

It had finally arrived. It was the day we were going to visit the Toledo Zoo, the destination which had spawned the idea for kid weekend in Toledo. Zhak and Kaden (and Faith, too!) just love zoos and were excited to see what is touted as one of the country’s finest. Unfortunately, it was touch and go as to whether we’d even make it there.

Zhak had been telling us for the past few days that his mouth hurt. When he woke up this A.M. with hands covered in a rash, Deni knew something was awry. A detour to the local med center was definitely in order, but her insurance company first needed approval from her pediatrician back home. While awaiting a return call from the doc, we telephoned our other sister Karen. Over the past decade plus she’s been through every childhood disease you can imagine and is a walking medical encyclopedia of kid ailments of all kinds. In less time than it took us to even say hand, foot and mouth disease, she had suspected Zhak’s problem was the common viral illness of infants and children. Sure enough, when Deni finally spoke with Zhak’s doctor, he confirmed Karen’s diagnosis. Since no specific treatment is really available, a trip to the med center would not be necessary. While the affliction is contagious, it is most often contracted by young children. Once they are exposed to it, they likely will not become infected again. Since we all had been in close contact for the past several days, if anything was going to result from this it had already been put in motion. Good hygiene was stepped up a notch, and sharing food and/or utensils kyboshed. Other than that, he assured us we were good to go. So go we did!

The Toledo Zoo began in 1900 with a single woodchuck donated to Walbridge Park. After organization of the Toledo Zoo Society between 1905 and 1910, it grew from there. Many of the original buildings were built by the Works Progress Administration and are still in use today.

Because the zoo is on the reciprocal list of our John Ball Park Zoo at home, Deni’s family membership afforded them, Faith and one guest free admission. Mark and I split the cost of the other adult ticket and we were on our way.

Africa was our first stop

mainly because it featured a Safari Railway and Kaden is obsessed (to put to mildly) with all things train. Had we not ridden at the onset, we would have likely heard, “I want to ride the train!” every ten minutes.

So we hopped aboard to check out zebras, giraffes and wildebeest.

We then followed the pedestrian walkway over SR 25 to the main exhibits.

It was not only Sunday, but Fisher-Price Play Weekend as well. The place was crowded and, well, a zoo! It was also hot, hot, hot. Many of the animals had sought refuge in the shade and were hard to locate. But we saw rhinos

And elephants

And camels, oh my!

Under his circumstances, Zhak was not in the best of spirits. Oy vey! While he took a time-out with Deni, the rest of us ventured on. At least Kaden was happy!

We saw hippopotami at the Hippoquarium, an underwater viewing exhibit which was the first of its kind in the world.

In the Reptile House we saw a neat Panther Chameleon

a sinister-looking alligator

and “Look Mommy! That turtle is climbing on top of the other turtle!”

Um, yeah. Apologies to all you voyeurs … no photo of that one.

My favorite place was the aquarium.

Housing 253 different species with 2,800 actual animals in the exhibit, it was one of the most diverse collections of zoo-aquarium in the United States. And it was air conditioned!

Before heading home we stopped to see Siku, the only polar bear cub in a U.S. zoo, who was under careful watch of his mom.  Polar bears are so cool!

In all honesty, I wasn’t really impressed. I admittedly have little to no patience when you combine mobs of people, oppressive heat and six-year-old meltdowns. The kids had a great time, though, which was our main objective. Mission accomplished!

Rapido Grandes

I hail from the thriving metropolis of Grand Rapids, Michigan and knew there was a Grand Rapids, Minnesota as well. Until I started making frequent jaunts to the Buckeye State, however, I had no idea there was also a Grand Rapids, Ohio.

Then I got to wonderin’ … how many other locales shared the name? So I jumped online (what did we used to do before the internet?), conducted a few searches, and discovered there are actually six cities/towns/villages in North America called Grand Rapids. In addition to Ohio, Michigan and Minnesota, they are also found in Wisconsin, North Dakota and Manitoba. Of course, all derive their name from the waterways on which they are located … though the rapids of the northern-most port of steamboat travel on the Mighty Mississippi were eradicated when a local paper mill damned the river.

How cool would it be to make a Grand Rapids pilgrimage through all six locales, starting in Ohio and ending on the northwestern shore of Lake Winnipeg? Because I was already searching the worldwide web (and, simply, because I could!), I took my curiosity a step further. Such a roadtrip would take 32 hours and 49 minutes and cover an incredible 1,861.79 miles. I’ve filed that idea away for someday when I’ve got nothing else to do … and don’t have children in tow who inquire of me every ten minutes, “Are we there yet?!?!?” This time around I was content to explore the Ohioan village nestled along the southern bank of the Maumee River.

Located just southwest of Toledo and adjacent to Providence Metropark, the restored canal town of Grand Rapids, Ohio had been a major river crossing for centuries. Before there were bridges, ferries resembling flat barges carried horse-drawn wagons and passengers across the Maumee. Amusingly, village lore relays this mode of transportation was unreliable since the ferryman weren’t always on duty thanks to their love of strong drink. Cheers!

The village was platted in 1833 as Gilead, but overshadowed by rival Providence during the canal era. In 1868 the name Grand Rapids was adopted and the town prospered with the arrival of the railroad in 1877. As I mentioned in my previous post, this actually led to the demise of the canal system.

Noteworthy sites in town include the Howard Cemetery, where members of the Howard family are buried. They were the first white settlers of this area in 1820. Also interred here is Tee-Na-Beek, believed to be the last Ottawa Indian left in the Maumee Valley. After his land was lost to the White Man, his widow had no place to bury him, and his friend Dresden Howard allowed his body to be placed among Howard relatives; Tee-Na-Beek’s grave is located outside the iron fence.

Unfortunately, spring floods have been and continue to be a threat to the village. A marker in the downtown area tracks flood records. Check out the water level in 1904 … keeping in mind that Mark stands at 6’3”!

In addition, as is the case with most turn-of-the-century villages, fires ravished Grand Rapids in the late 1890s. Major renovation of the shopping district began in 1975, and it again underwent an overhaul in 2002. The downtown area and its surrounding residences today are amazing restorations of the Victorian architecture of days gone by with fancy brickwork, elaborate moldings and transom windows.  Many of them have been placed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Of special interest was a gorgeous Italianate residence located at 24055 Front Street. Built in 1883 by Richard Housely, the first president of the Grand Rapids Banking Company, he constructed the home for his second wife, a southern belle from Savannah. It served as a private residence until the 1950s when it was converted into apartments.

In 1987 the property was purchased by Don and Audry Entenman and lavishly refurbished. After they decided to simplify, the home was sold to current owners Don and Teresa Marie Williams, who converted it to a quaint B&B. As I was roaming the grounds and taking pictures, I ran into Teresa Marie.

As much as I would have loved to sit on her porch and chat all day, remember I was keeping company with young’uns. We went on to lunch at LaRoe’s restaurant and tavern and headed to City Park.

Once home to commercial establishments such as general and hardware stores, the buildings were eventually destroyed and the land presented to the town for a park. It was the perfect place to entertain kids … and kids at heart!

The Town Hall adjacent to City Park was built in 1898 to house government offices, a jail and an opera house. In fact, the Grand Rapids structure became known as one of the finest facilities on the theatrical circuit.

Though we didn’t have time to properly tour all the amazing residences or peruse the quaint shops, we enjoyed our afternoon in Grand Rapids.  A return trip the next time I’m in the area—sans tired children, of course—is definitely in order!