I went to Lincoln School

johnstreetI don’t know why, but it was so much fun today to say that to somebody who actually knew the Lincoln School I was talking about. I mean the one in Sault Ste. Siberia, right across the street from my childhood home. It was a group of Sault Boy Scouts and their leaders who came out for the monthly North Country Trail hike. One of these young men, F, is planning to build a bench for our section of trail as an Eagle Scout project.

That was all fun but a bit later on, things got even more interesting. After hiking, the Boy Scouts left and most of the rest of us meandered over to St. Ignace for the annual dinner and presentation. The GG and I put our stuff down at an empty table and wandered around socializing for a bit. Yeah, I know. Me? Socializing? You know that a glass of cab helped a bit… Then, F and his dad (who was not at the hike) came in and sat at our table. Of course this was okay but I was a little nervous. I have to make polite conversation with strangers? Okaaaaayyy…

We began with the usual small talk: where are you from, what do you do, yada yada. F’s dad married a Sault “girl”. I was familiar with the family name but didn’t really know his wife or her siblings. After some years of marriage, they moved “back” to Siberia. Here’s where the conversation got interesting:

F’s dad: my wife grew up on Young Street.

KW: I grew up on Superior St. [several streets east of Young St.]

F’s dad: we live on John.

KW: My grandparents lived at [street number] John.

F and dad in unison: That’s our address.

[KW’s jaw drops and she stares blankly.]

Wow! I talked about the nooks and crannies I remembered and bumping down the then carpeted stairs on my butt and the bedroom my brother and I slept in when our parents left us with the grandparents and how the attic was off limits because my eccentric great aunt lived there.

F’s dad told me how he’s been working to fix up the house and undo some attempts at “modernization” by some interim owner(s). The attic has been converted into a master bedroom. The radiators have been refurbished. And I forget what else. But what about the pocket doors? (Oh please say the pocket doors are still there.) Yes, they are.

Like my grandparents, this family is raising a family of four in that house: two boys, two girls. F has the front corner bedroom and being a young teenage boy, I am sure he quickly tired of hearing a baggy old kayak woman squeal, “That was my grandparents’ bedroom!”

Anyway, not to get sappy here but I feel happy that the old house seems to be in good hands in the 21st century.

And here we are back at Chloe Belle’s in Gaylord after an adventurous and snowy weekend. We’re having a gay old time here (no pun intended) and I’ll probably find about a billion typos and maybe a few frogs and newts and whatever in this post tomorrow.

G’night, –KW

4 Responses to “I went to Lincoln School”

  1. Margaret Says:

    That is an amazing story and what a small world! Glad you got to hear about the house and that it’s being well used and loved.

  2. Jay Says:

    Too cool.
    That house is just so full of memories

  3. Tonya Watkins Says:

    What a feeling that must have been! I love it when small talk turns into something magical. (It doesn’t happen very often!) What a great story!

  4. Sam Says:

    Love the happy twists life tosses our way….