Going Home

Originally Written Between 2017-2020

 

How do you answer when one asks you, “Where are you from?”  When Norm and I were on our European river cruise in August, I heard that question several times.  Each time, I would answer, “Minneapolis” or “Minnesota.”  But, when I’m around new friends – say, at church or in our neighborhood, and I’m asked, “Where are you from?” I answer, “Forest Lake.”

 

“They” say that, “you can’t go home again.”  Well, I beg to differ with “they.”  Because I can…. go home again.  I only live 25 minutes away from Forest Lake.  And so… the other day, I purposely went home again to see my old house, my grandparents’ homes, the supper club my parents owned, and Skateland – my real “home away from home.”

 

I drove past the “big white house” where I lived from age 4-1/2 to the day I got married.  It looks almost the same – except the screened-in porch has been enclosed.  Our house was next to the railroad tracks that ran through town all the way to Duluth.  Naturally, we were not allowed to play on the tracks.  But, of course, we did.   I still remember my day walking down the long dirt driveway and my best friend’s dad walking down his long dirt driveway to the tracks.  Phyllis and I were spanked all the way home and believe me, we never played on the tracks again!

 

The tracks were on a big hill.  Several years ago, the city got rid of the tracks, leveled the hill and made a bike or walking path that goes north for several miles.  To this day, whenever I cross the road where the tracks were, I slow down and look both ways.   Old habits are hard to break!

 

My grandma and grandpa lived on the lake.  Sort of.  They had a pie-shaped lot that started on the lakeshore where they had a cabin.  In the middle of the lot, they built a two-bedroom bungalow that they rented out for years.  At the widest part of the pie-shaped lot, grandpa built a large home that faced the road that when through town.  All of our holidays were celebrated in that house.  And, our summers were spent at the cabin.  My parents inherited the cabin, the bungalow, and the house after my grandparent’s died.  They sold the house – and the “big white house across the tracks” was also sold and they moved into the bungalow.  They then remodeled the bungalow.  Mom sold the cabin and bungalow after dad died since see could no longer stay by herself.  The man who bought the homes tore them down immediately so he could build some townhomes.  He never did.  The property is still empty 15 years later.

 

When my parents married in 1940, did was a bartender.  He ended up bartending at a café/bar/hotel on the southeast corner of Main Street (Highway 61) and Broadway – in the middle of town.  He eventually bought the business and renamed it Vogel’s Bar, Café and Hotel.  After a few years, he remodeled and it became Vogel’s Supper Club.  There have been many businesses on that property since the supper club burned down in the early 1960’s.  It is now called Vanelli’s.

 

As I said before, my “home away from home” was Skateland.  Skateland was located next to the park/lake in town and my folks owned it from 1955 through 1969.  It was eventually torn down by the new owners and is now a SNAP Fitness Center.  My parents literally “raised” a generation of youngsters and young adults who considered the rink as their home.  A bench and plaque to honor mom and dad were placed in the park next to where Skateland stood for those many ears.

 

I don’t have a picture of Norm’s and my “first” home which was in St. Paul at 179 Colborn Street – near West 7^thand St. Clair.  We tried finding it a few years ago and discovered that many homes and buildings had been torn down to make a larger street.  We lived in one of the two apartments that were on the second floor.  The bottom level was an abandoned store.  The dwelling was 100 years old.  We entered on the east side and walked up 23 steps to our apartment.  Our apartment consisted of one bedroom, one bath, a living room with a large picture window, a dining room, and a kitchen.  It had beautiful wooden floors and high ceilings.  The rent was $70 a month.  We loved it!  Now and then, someone would hold auctions in the abandoned store.  Norm would go to the auctions and stomp out the cigarette butts on the dirt floor to make sure our home wouldn’t catch on fire in the middle of the night!

 

Well, we discovered that we really did have a second exit.  Behind our clothes in our bedroom closet, we found another door.  Yes – a door that opened up into the closet of our neighbors!  It seems that our neighbors were really good friends with the couple who used to live in our apartment and that mutual door was always unlocked and they jut visited back and forth all the time.  As soon as we moved in, however, our neighbors locked the door.  Gee, was it something we said?

 

We were in our apartment for a year and then moved into our first home.  A large, old, three-bedroom, triple-story home on the southwest corner of Ashland and Fairview Avenue in St. Paul.  Oh, how I loved that house.  We lived there for almost five years.  We brought little Michael as a newborn to this house and David joined us three years later.  However, we also had someone else move in with us shortly after we bought the home.  Norm’s father, Clarence, had sold his house in which he raised six children and he needed a place to live.  For some reason ,we offered to let him stay with us.  Clarence was a very kind man who tried to stay out of our way.  But, after two years, four months and two days, it was time for Clarence to move.  He moved to Norm’s sister’s home (Catherine) for over two years and then on to Norm’s brother’s (Bill) home for another two years.  Then, it was time for an assisted living facility.

 

A few years after we sold the Ashland Street house, my sister-in-law called me and said that it was for sale.  We went to the Open House.  The blue-flowered wallpaper that Norm and I placed in the bathroom was still there.  Same carpeting.  Same yellow-painted kitchen cabinets.  But, we kept saying, “Gee, wasn’t the living room bigger than this?”  “The pantry wasn’t ever that small, was it?”

 

Norm and I moved to Spring Lake Park when it was time for Michael to enter kindergarten.  Why did we move?  Several reasons.  One:  I wasn’t used to city living and I didn’t like neighbors parking in front of our house.  I didn’t like the idea that little five-years-old Michael would have to walk almost a mile to school and back every day.  I think the real reason, however, was because our house needed new siding and we just couldn’t afford it.  It was easier to buy a new house with a new mortgage!

 

We lived in our Jackson Street house in Spring Lake Park for 34 years.  All four of our children went to the same schools and had the same teachers.  It’s fun now to listen to them reminisce about their adventures and teachers.  Now and then they’ll tell me something that I never knew before and I’ll put my hands over my ears ‘cuz I don’t want to hear it!

 

So – one can still go home again.  Even if it’s only in one’s memories!