tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482745925343187752024-03-12T19:50:44.202-07:00The Elf Home PageElf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-40246160845999373242022-11-18T16:58:00.004-08:002022-12-05T08:03:21.244-08:001970s - Packer Season Tickets for Kids<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> When I wrote this in 2009, the Packers Super Bowl victory in 1997 (96 season) was still fresh in my mind even though it was thirteen years ago. And little did I know we were about to win another one in 2011 (2010 season.) But as a child growing up in the mid-seventies, the Packer Glory Years of the 1960s seemed like ancient history to me. The Packers had been struggling since Vince Lombardi left. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Even with the struggling 70s teams, there was still a waiting list for season tickets, but thanks to the clever Moms of Bitters Court, we always had them. 'How?', you may ask. Well, I'm not exactly sure, but as I recall, our Moms found out that the Packers reserved the lower half of section 7 (now section 107 in the corner of the end zone) as their 'Kids Section'. With a simple phone call, they could order tickets for all 4 home games. (There were only 7 home games then, and 3 were in Milwaukee.)</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of our neighbors, Mr. Reinhart, was the down marker holder for all home games, so through rain, snow, cold and anything else, he had to be at the game and he was always kind enough to give a ride to all the Bitters Court kids, as long as we got to his house on time. Here is a selection of ticket stubs from that era. (Look at those prices!)</span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUpA0hpRwl1If_jRaI0w1eegPFZJx5hGjYROcO-7r7n4NT5qC23eqQBINc4Kfj_LUej5YkDc4a3u6DwhoN52j_sU6vFRnAL11UgYPfLPLdzpogI-r64n4gJG0hb3CS28MlGYWCGZBc-QCcgG-hYBr9Z_grvnxpcdW7aMhxTKSWHZpC2oNVcp-jX_GH" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img data-original-height="678" data-original-width="1024" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUpA0hpRwl1If_jRaI0w1eegPFZJx5hGjYROcO-7r7n4NT5qC23eqQBINc4Kfj_LUej5YkDc4a3u6DwhoN52j_sU6vFRnAL11UgYPfLPLdzpogI-r64n4gJG0hb3CS28MlGYWCGZBc-QCcgG-hYBr9Z_grvnxpcdW7aMhxTKSWHZpC2oNVcp-jX_GH=w400-h265" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Falcons game was the first game I ever went to. It was a birthday gift from my parents and my Dad took me. The Vikings game was a very snowy game and Ned Brogan had some extra tickets he was looking to sell. Unfortunately the ticket scalping was a buyers market due to the snow. Everybody was trying to unload tickets, and as they gave up, they'd give them to us. "Here Kid, try to sell these too." We walked into that game with a 2 inch high stack of tickets and kept warm by walking around the stadium to check out all our seats.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Reinhart would get hungry during the first half, and it was always his son, Peter's, job to leave at the two minute warning to get him two hot dogs. He'd meet us at the front of our section and Pete would hand him the hot dogs to eat during halftime. I learned that as Pete went to college, Mr. Reinhart recruited my brothers to do the same. I suspect that Pete got that job as his older brothers stopped going to games, and Jon and Chris got it from him. Neat. On the way home we'd listen to the radio recap as we headed back to Bitters Court. Good memories.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">John Reinhart's son, Greg (our favorite babysitter), posted this tribute to his Dad in 2018 which included a picture of Mr. Reinhart on the sideline back on the day. With Greg's permission I am adding it to this essay.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaaB8hJQeB91xwiPwH661qDkqS5v6FWvJpEiSNiYhC8tW0IbpdFtOvW-w0JyBgyUjeYZjYiQYvc120y_p1ziTab7V-l5tAPq2LFdNIrmqi0-EvOBRVYU7c0R8xGmN5vAN3MNSZt052xq-wlguUar47arFp5pWDPC2DwrLjlZNtbNrJGQo-NzeR7iYQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="200" data-original-width="660" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaaB8hJQeB91xwiPwH661qDkqS5v6FWvJpEiSNiYhC8tW0IbpdFtOvW-w0JyBgyUjeYZjYiQYvc120y_p1ziTab7V-l5tAPq2LFdNIrmqi0-EvOBRVYU7c0R8xGmN5vAN3MNSZt052xq-wlguUar47arFp5pWDPC2DwrLjlZNtbNrJGQo-NzeR7iYQ=w400-h121" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdmjWIUnsyNumYb33J9G8kV73X1ddeBiczRqW-12vmJyBOGYcQCVELtTwFi6W5pPnfheP25WZuw8eDW-aU55OVQ3MDSeCv6pf9E8SQh1eFHS8sVH2VeK5a_BSG-3Xn2hAeGPJ9R9HLDhodHXnmlDDNnUW6ucj-Oqzfjs41dCK-ospi1u3xgT2d-YHC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="719" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdmjWIUnsyNumYb33J9G8kV73X1ddeBiczRqW-12vmJyBOGYcQCVELtTwFi6W5pPnfheP25WZuw8eDW-aU55OVQ3MDSeCv6pf9E8SQh1eFHS8sVH2VeK5a_BSG-3Xn2hAeGPJ9R9HLDhodHXnmlDDNnUW6ucj-Oqzfjs41dCK-ospi1u3xgT2d-YHC" width="194" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span></div><p></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">Eric Elfner<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">November 2022<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Update from an essay I first wrote in December 2009</span></p></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-10373895357920775592022-11-13T09:30:00.002-08:002022-11-13T09:31:45.717-08:001985 Walk Down Wisconsin Avenue<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I came to Milwaukee in the fall of 1985 to start school at Marquette. I had been a prolific photographer in high school, but I was having such a great college experience that I didn't bother to get my 35mm camera gear out too much. But I did on this day for a walk down Wisconsin Avenue on a November afternoon. The words are from a write-up I did in 2007 when I started scanning all my old negatives. Click on any of the photos to make them bigger. Here's my post from 2007:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I think I was realizing that my photographic experiences were languishing at Marquette and decided to pick up the camera and take a walk down Wisconsin Avenue to see what I could capture. I was pretty familiar with the route because my roommate and I used to jog down to the lake, about a 4-mile round trip, quite often since we had arrived on campus. We'd usually pause on the Art Museum's terrace to check out the lake before we jogged back. For this walk, two of my Schroeder Hall buddies came with, as you can see from the photos. It's very interesting for me to see these photos today because over the years, especially when I worked downtown, I read a lot about the area's history. I know a lot about what buildings are there today, and even more about some of the historic buildings that are long gone. This roll of film is a nice little glimpse of what was there in 1985.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoOX0DRWFnbd3QacQaqWn9SYhvemo6S4obHNRZnvqqmzFC2r5OWUekEc3jjIgxWF8vOFRhS7uMkANJ7DjBTmAQKAqmxVBw2g08K5JlEPS4Q0PntmiLlyi14Cu8D-EiePE1D2DE9ramHpHu8aWVGBlL8IIAzG4W_GW8vHPMl9D6lQTXavK2hv5A31Bz" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="1024" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoOX0DRWFnbd3QacQaqWn9SYhvemo6S4obHNRZnvqqmzFC2r5OWUekEc3jjIgxWF8vOFRhS7uMkANJ7DjBTmAQKAqmxVBw2g08K5JlEPS4Q0PntmiLlyi14Cu8D-EiePE1D2DE9ramHpHu8aWVGBlL8IIAzG4W_GW8vHPMl9D6lQTXavK2hv5A31Bz" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The first picture is from the corner of 12th Street and Wisconsin Avenue in Milwaukee. I am standing on the traffic island right in front of the little building that contained the University Store (U-Store) and Grebe's Bakery. The building is gone now, but I should get a current picture from the same spot. I think you'd see the new Al McGuire Center to the left and some new buildings downtown. The Y is now East Hall, and has a new cladding that makes it look like a more modern building.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmffKSeHiJckzpud2N3-ahzaYcJ3qppgd4drEDhKy7O51ZnV4Pz27i9KKlSw_bLmSXHQk3uOYysSDFNiO7jcErQNAl-Gjs3U4gejQUACoNSHsKQ910cxS0zRbXFhgu6bTkFoADwFtt59XkKZI5IhEvK67IUBwz3N5hPCx-NLntY0ucOi4WT8QW8Qx4" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="656" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmffKSeHiJckzpud2N3-ahzaYcJ3qppgd4drEDhKy7O51ZnV4Pz27i9KKlSw_bLmSXHQk3uOYysSDFNiO7jcErQNAl-Gjs3U4gejQUACoNSHsKQ910cxS0zRbXFhgu6bTkFoADwFtt59XkKZI5IhEvK67IUBwz3N5hPCx-NLntY0ucOi4WT8QW8Qx4" width="154" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The Marc Plaza opened in the 1920s as the Schroeder Hotel. It stands on 5th Street and Wisconsin. Sometime in the past ten years it became the Milwaukee Hilton. In that process they did a renovation that included adding on to the west side of the building and creating an indoor waterpark.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0ElXZ1fXgB4o1MB97Qvwk6KlZWgbUrZZPESc6XInMyioZOZEqMKc9zqqiY-SXTHrJua2DR4unmoAbU01s8StYF9VNsYRgFzNfh_ovWc5E4NIswxzxCmU4byoxVrcq488wOBohUzQ7Hc9nvfWX7n6LqhajNSubFU6aW4ASir9egL8MJZ8QtqN0msSo" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="702" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0ElXZ1fXgB4o1MB97Qvwk6KlZWgbUrZZPESc6XInMyioZOZEqMKc9zqqiY-SXTHrJua2DR4unmoAbU01s8StYF9VNsYRgFzNfh_ovWc5E4NIswxzxCmU4byoxVrcq488wOBohUzQ7Hc9nvfWX7n6LqhajNSubFU6aW4ASir9egL8MJZ8QtqN0msSo" width="165" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A building on Wisconsin Ave sees the end of its days. It looks like it was a nice little building long ago. At first I thought it was on the north side of Wisconsin Ave between 4th & 5th where the Midwest Convention Center stands today. But after looking at an aerial photo of the site in 2007, I recognize the parking garage in the background and realize this building was where the surface lot on the south side of Wisconsin Avenue is today (I was standing on the north side of the street shooting south.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisPOD-AY4SKRGMwGQCS5s-tjxl5_OsbMnglHbU0ZGx7Jz6_VDNz-fuKQ_xWvKjYlQFdaUdR9f_tbpRhxOdO-lGnGIqHI1NCS0l9F45KnyvdcYvNy4RzahSbDZhvip8sWC9WT0AVGwTgyfrAtqm8EgEyryzU0EaQXlw4IeNVIMDMotrDcGNa-CNpI9c" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="1024" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisPOD-AY4SKRGMwGQCS5s-tjxl5_OsbMnglHbU0ZGx7Jz6_VDNz-fuKQ_xWvKjYlQFdaUdR9f_tbpRhxOdO-lGnGIqHI1NCS0l9F45KnyvdcYvNy4RzahSbDZhvip8sWC9WT0AVGwTgyfrAtqm8EgEyryzU0EaQXlw4IeNVIMDMotrDcGNa-CNpI9c" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is the Reuss Federal Plaza on Old World Third Street. The building with the speckles that you can see on the right of the reflection is the old Hotel Wisconsin.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGFz9CPDaVyS9JDQf__jF_Qq8sHKGa8yU0WATCZ-x9h-FGw6EZ8LebO-saE2pd-pdZVm2cPT2Dhs7RqB8BUP5G7FuHdRbseITQpJZwKhu6izahH6gLVa3ZZkq0yFmGlp2SqrwrAi817UqL73ijHfRsfa6F0WKcrXGnI3HQ10ZyOC03FeHLZEJvTi0Z" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="702" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGFz9CPDaVyS9JDQf__jF_Qq8sHKGa8yU0WATCZ-x9h-FGw6EZ8LebO-saE2pd-pdZVm2cPT2Dhs7RqB8BUP5G7FuHdRbseITQpJZwKhu6izahH6gLVa3ZZkq0yFmGlp2SqrwrAi817UqL73ijHfRsfa6F0WKcrXGnI3HQ10ZyOC03FeHLZEJvTi0Z" width="165" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This building is on the east side of the River just north of Wisconsin Ave. The empty lot to the right used to be the site of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pabst_Building" target="_blank">Pabst Building</a> that was built in 1891 and demolished in the 1981. The mural on the wall was made of slats and the image changed as you drove, jogged or walked past on Wisconsin Ave. Today that lot is the site of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/100_East_Wisconsin" target="_blank">100 East Building</a>, completed in 1989.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivgf_oKLPQyJxBWY9mPbkoO4EPh6QblMk80DQdI7P7ipFc8Z98Rx_oLs-glh1k7yhYKcduqGIO52fA8sLajOpmI70nlSb2pOMkKt0WKhTzw-Y2KYOFwSLK7rpjcDIxBkR5_olTQ2_nwAgngN8VoD_Z1ybGq2BJUV8HyRks2o3N-_VY8Uipuy4onhUE" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="694" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivgf_oKLPQyJxBWY9mPbkoO4EPh6QblMk80DQdI7P7ipFc8Z98Rx_oLs-glh1k7yhYKcduqGIO52fA8sLajOpmI70nlSb2pOMkKt0WKhTzw-Y2KYOFwSLK7rpjcDIxBkR5_olTQ2_nwAgngN8VoD_Z1ybGq2BJUV8HyRks2o3N-_VY8Uipuy4onhUE" width="163" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now we are on the east side of the Milwaukee River, and I am taking a shot of the 411 Building at 411 E. Wisconsin Avenue. At the time I think the angles of the windows and the corners intrigued me, but the ironic part of this photo is that I ended up working on the 23/24th floors of that building from 1992 until 1999.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZJJlDabYFgymNbdY3h2iWwhYSZVI9NoNjIfXFhkCYEG1u3iWWHaZIpzZ429nLYcqxAN_jFtdWACBwUkMHKJVcMAikbz8mTFw85k4TvW_fLSaJ8Sm9JuCPeYYElRs0woJ0cYp9-MeI_AD_uER1TCmX_ui_CS39m2tiY49nu7qQOnTP7hVM1xhtJqZi" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="1024" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZJJlDabYFgymNbdY3h2iWwhYSZVI9NoNjIfXFhkCYEG1u3iWWHaZIpzZ429nLYcqxAN_jFtdWACBwUkMHKJVcMAikbz8mTFw85k4TvW_fLSaJ8Sm9JuCPeYYElRs0woJ0cYp9-MeI_AD_uER1TCmX_ui_CS39m2tiY49nu7qQOnTP7hVM1xhtJqZi" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now we arrive at the lakefront. During most of the twentieth century, Milwaukee did not embrace its lakefront. Early on there were train tracks that ran along the lake. That was replaced with Lincoln Memorial Drive, and McKinley Marina and Veterans Park were created from landfill. But you can see even in 1985, the downtown business district was still cutoff from the lake by this surface parking lot. The sculpture to the right is at the foot of Wisconsin Avenue, and you can see the Summerfest Grounds between the parking lot and the bridge. You can even see the old main stage to the left, mimicking the curve of the bridge. It used to face toward the city, but folks in West Allis and Wauwatosa complained that they could hear the music, so when Summerfest built the Marcus Amphitheater, they faced it toward the lake. Today, you would see a beautifully redesigned Summerfest entrance and the Calatrava designed (and CG Schmidt built) Art Museum would be on your left with park space above a parking garage connecting downtown to the lake.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDVmU62pGN7a1DUE6a7OAOsQOBcY_a9P-bUvhPLhvuWh6TfepuAcCCOKqmF0m2wVONG5mkzzsUjgqX-1sIrlYIas_fFRyflgadV-NFwX_CrdVIvDyUsSfEvMlRqCC69v1ceaswxD2zjEXhHKdERzNFVt2Ew0vizkOm0rzyc-n41fBBuTl0TQ9sKP4v" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="705" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDVmU62pGN7a1DUE6a7OAOsQOBcY_a9P-bUvhPLhvuWh6TfepuAcCCOKqmF0m2wVONG5mkzzsUjgqX-1sIrlYIas_fFRyflgadV-NFwX_CrdVIvDyUsSfEvMlRqCC69v1ceaswxD2zjEXhHKdERzNFVt2Ew0vizkOm0rzyc-n41fBBuTl0TQ9sKP4v" width="165" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Facing back to the west, I took a picture of the First Wisconsin Building. Well, that's what it was called then. They've been bought several times and now it's the US Bank building. The sun is going down behind it, so everything is sort of in silhouette. Look at those old buses!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9C_-Jfyo0DybDpc-hyjgSU9xIZNUl649hN6OnERoqUJpbLOBdLhTEV3WeNWaVQ7uAFhQX6uE_Cp9LkAExEsxRRgIowtJhC-7T6hc_8VMXsXqdXT6Arj2eNp7b81phh2ID83-qCa15WqwsAkf89ZBNhA4h1W0L7owQRIIpChceqemMMKxB9-9heg3d" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="1024" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9C_-Jfyo0DybDpc-hyjgSU9xIZNUl649hN6OnERoqUJpbLOBdLhTEV3WeNWaVQ7uAFhQX6uE_Cp9LkAExEsxRRgIowtJhC-7T6hc_8VMXsXqdXT6Arj2eNp7b81phh2ID83-qCa15WqwsAkf89ZBNhA4h1W0L7owQRIIpChceqemMMKxB9-9heg3d" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We made it to the War Memorial's patio looking out over the lake. I got a nice shot looking north at Veterans Park and McKinley Marina beyond. And a couple shots of my walking companions on the patio.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxbv6LnxXlQ9PcK10Ub0jD5Rd0G6Zye0tlCb6fh5WdVpk_kWXvJ2DbSmymdCmRaNdR4lSNCqadSJnElYZfcHZwLaAsfilf1VzoiTkF25KG8CWe49-zc9oScw1f5BTi9k4i-7i_m3nG2XkrfaBUNGXhjjlED7l7bnoWhjLfBzj-UerqtdGw0BysqrFZ" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnHtFm0iGjmRVEicBywumEpYtvzNlB6UmPH_jF4nlXThqJnLhGR5z3kZtSS0Uhk0oly5iX6HCWHm_uhyo1dNrHTB8StfLV1hAaO-SBNAkEFJ2U8PLkEsLNkYMxD75zS8RkOPaTh5SwebpQ-kclAptO-KT54Qe_TVUDNx0ZMkOUuC86qYgfEEx46sLF" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnHtFm0iGjmRVEicBywumEpYtvzNlB6UmPH_jF4nlXThqJnLhGR5z3kZtSS0Uhk0oly5iX6HCWHm_uhyo1dNrHTB8StfLV1hAaO-SBNAkEFJ2U8PLkEsLNkYMxD75zS8RkOPaTh5SwebpQ-kclAptO-KT54Qe_TVUDNx0ZMkOUuC86qYgfEEx46sLF" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHBJ22WLo7AD_poJGM8Ysuhpu3JxiRIa75FzW0GwZKHlUgoxpM2hQqJinSz6pEwAjvSmQj16QXyvACrgERA4SHtyLkaHO_MMx1sC3rSOartxRBkmNPIMz_olVsUYWjAt6qvDtEgP8adKO4yai8Mu_jHCX1IXCpV3B_gVB8u0vAUWMiMHNEI9PS0bc2" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="690" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHBJ22WLo7AD_poJGM8Ysuhpu3JxiRIa75FzW0GwZKHlUgoxpM2hQqJinSz6pEwAjvSmQj16QXyvACrgERA4SHtyLkaHO_MMx1sC3rSOartxRBkmNPIMz_olVsUYWjAt6qvDtEgP8adKO4yai8Mu_jHCX1IXCpV3B_gVB8u0vAUWMiMHNEI9PS0bc2" width="162" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Blog post in November 2022, updated from a page I made on the old Elf website in December 2007.</span></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-34218068680954675262022-08-27T09:11:00.003-07:002022-08-27T09:12:39.755-07:00Eric's 1986 Porsche 944<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Emily let me know she spotted a 944 in a movie, so I thought it was time to update this page about the red 1986 Porsche 944 I owned from 2001 - 2010. Updated from an essay I wrote in October 2010 after selling the car (actually gave it to a friend who was a better mechanic than me who could prolong its life. I really enjoyed having this car, but there was always a concern about the next $2,000 repair it would need!</span></p><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I first discovered 944s reading "Road & Track" during study hall in high school in the early 1980s. I loved the way all the Porsches looked then, but decided some day I'd own a 944. That someday came almost 20 years later in October of 2001 when I bought my 1986 Guards Red 944.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After owning a 944 for 9 years, I passed it on to a friend of mine who was ready to tackle some work I knew it needed. It was the car I wanted in high school and was a lot of fun for the time I had it. Driving a 24-year-old car does come with a degree of stress though because you're always wondering what's going to break next. So it's on to a new home and I'm enjoying my V70 R, but the whole family has good memories of the time we had with a little red Porsche. I learned a little bit about cars too. Some of the things we fixed are linked at the bottom of this page.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOMG9pIzAq_hz8xRe76iR2eqyOsWjqUEjl7iOGmJ0VJgeuQ00SxlTQG5YOvEtfMrCxVJf-lgp27ICYFsbry3MofD1Qbg8NzhwvLH-GBbfYZTrqyuedAYKWvYzR58ziikNL-VlULuCqSQ3jPf1sR_5bCjqgWEUEIRuYg52Mzti9qxWkR6MLQEIqgOmP" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="298" data-original-width="799" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOMG9pIzAq_hz8xRe76iR2eqyOsWjqUEjl7iOGmJ0VJgeuQ00SxlTQG5YOvEtfMrCxVJf-lgp27ICYFsbry3MofD1Qbg8NzhwvLH-GBbfYZTrqyuedAYKWvYzR58ziikNL-VlULuCqSQ3jPf1sR_5bCjqgWEUEIRuYg52Mzti9qxWkR6MLQEIqgOmP=w400-h149" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The first picture must be from about 2003 because it's at our old house and Sam is a baby. As we were saying goodbye in 2010, I took another picture of the kids with the 944.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One day I was driving to work in the 944. I was heading down highway 41 going about 75mph with the sunroof off. I was listening to Van Halen's greatest hits, which I keep in the 944 along with a pair of Wayfarers as my 80s time capsule. I was enjoying the ride immensely and thought to myself, "If my 17-year-old self could see my 40-year-old self right now he'd think everything turned out just fine!" It certainly has for numerous reasons far beyond owning a 944, but I'm not sure 17-year-old Eric would "get" all the other stuff!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqN9GADYIEqqSbD1WD4vAhD4sIRdHGQUipWGCk4I28VNKWHyzodGKLxTcbavc4blzX5pctCMz5MeWEKYvz3HbHzybp0XcuyYwuuMkmu08slcnlm_B5xnrHQ1J3a37XLj_Rr8yIGtqUcGC0QaXKHTBTVsEQtr788TIySVPqplOBTTgSDZTIEuYVwJrk" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="246" data-original-width="400" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqN9GADYIEqqSbD1WD4vAhD4sIRdHGQUipWGCk4I28VNKWHyzodGKLxTcbavc4blzX5pctCMz5MeWEKYvz3HbHzybp0XcuyYwuuMkmu08slcnlm_B5xnrHQ1J3a37XLj_Rr8yIGtqUcGC0QaXKHTBTVsEQtr788TIySVPqplOBTTgSDZTIEuYVwJrk" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Here it is sitting in the driveway on a beautiful morning. "There she sits, buddy, just gleamin' in the sun..." I used to have to polish and wax it often because there was no clear coat on the paint. And the chip in the spoiler pre-dated my ownership.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivpoaO9jMK_JkQ2sVEBfiH9nZ2lUhBkytIrTTXv51u_6j1u3rxToSzU0hy5Fl6CClv2uihPtdeWBZhSGkkGtapOZCG2Cg2HxMplnmdYDuDX3O78LJF-wreU-0FLa498KFsmz23QfRl7ByB0iIlxadIblAzlJWw11-KyphtEPMW74ciCEax_-3Ul8Xs" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivpoaO9jMK_JkQ2sVEBfiH9nZ2lUhBkytIrTTXv51u_6j1u3rxToSzU0hy5Fl6CClv2uihPtdeWBZhSGkkGtapOZCG2Cg2HxMplnmdYDuDX3O78LJF-wreU-0FLa498KFsmz23QfRl7ByB0iIlxadIblAzlJWw11-KyphtEPMW74ciCEax_-3Ul8Xs" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;">The 4 cylinder power plant. You ought to hear it though. It has a great sound and you won't believe it's a 4-banger. The Sweet Sounds of Stuttgart!</span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2zesmyAuevpc2g0r57wIEJq5QCQkKFVTBXRdN7NEkGUT1i6EyJQv-utJiUcFNX8ny4xBELGBw0tPRNod7U-rvzN9JHSZC0Jsj_65hPGw7QMJSKm_i9AiMbmhq2aOvqBvrS7ONgugGlr_Ilv9M08JgVHm3ieENwuy_-BwONMHyH6jNI8-bbvWIFwML" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="287" data-original-width="400" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2zesmyAuevpc2g0r57wIEJq5QCQkKFVTBXRdN7NEkGUT1i6EyJQv-utJiUcFNX8ny4xBELGBw0tPRNod7U-rvzN9JHSZC0Jsj_65hPGw7QMJSKm_i9AiMbmhq2aOvqBvrS7ONgugGlr_Ilv9M08JgVHm3ieENwuy_-BwONMHyH6jNI8-bbvWIFwML" width="320" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;">The kids loved it too.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPINkXilMZjSyGQpYDKQx2hNTYQE4ZIk9rGg2WCMX3BB7hqn_QTed0YSgG84gkgmum5lqQjP9nG0YlM0KGCmfqHos_JO4GHG08TOxViEdjqo2p-_9j5c_KNU2zR1QJpJErCkuTDttEVsFj9ss6otuakCz-CGzW4dyGea3FCH1qEVuc26nraw-L0J8g" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPINkXilMZjSyGQpYDKQx2hNTYQE4ZIk9rGg2WCMX3BB7hqn_QTed0YSgG84gkgmum5lqQjP9nG0YlM0KGCmfqHos_JO4GHG08TOxViEdjqo2p-_9j5c_KNU2zR1QJpJErCkuTDttEVsFj9ss6otuakCz-CGzW4dyGea3FCH1qEVuc26nraw-L0J8g" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>One of my favorite shots.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHiYFgNWH0Sxy7I_Mju3E9FFsNKhOdCwA6VUj44_1mXIq2CobtAIZCTXLKQIoHzbZ5xA9QEASoy7S3gaLCfYvU8kt4c7Rrj36IRQIvjTJE5ioKXXHolRgcMzbngWRnI3y2Qj3-treyn0git4Z04OWpYYAYXWjF1Ou5dko5blmH9t-6xMOvY1e2bp18" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHiYFgNWH0Sxy7I_Mju3E9FFsNKhOdCwA6VUj44_1mXIq2CobtAIZCTXLKQIoHzbZ5xA9QEASoy7S3gaLCfYvU8kt4c7Rrj36IRQIvjTJE5ioKXXHolRgcMzbngWRnI3y2Qj3-treyn0git4Z04OWpYYAYXWjF1Ou5dko5blmH9t-6xMOvY1e2bp18" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>I had never been much of mechanic, but I figured if you have an old car like this, you need to do some things yourself. So I practiced on the Civic, and joined an Internet group for instruction and support. Here I am trying to wrestle an oilpan drainplug that the shop had overtightened.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgofGTTSwJrstdto0V6SNdkyaQIU2qNZd8K_1btbG0HrVmNJaxuIQFsdCpQ5koHK-da6aTL8iNQN3g94TjOBII9PXBDMTDS4p-kDmAZlyXobwW663PhOgXWs4uCtblA-4Z87jlVJmcOdCf3PFKlh9WyciTgdndyNRWJ0WM1qcekxkQdbFjdc5RE7GTl" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="400" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgofGTTSwJrstdto0V6SNdkyaQIU2qNZd8K_1btbG0HrVmNJaxuIQFsdCpQ5koHK-da6aTL8iNQN3g94TjOBII9PXBDMTDS4p-kDmAZlyXobwW663PhOgXWs4uCtblA-4Z87jlVJmcOdCf3PFKlh9WyciTgdndyNRWJ0WM1qcekxkQdbFjdc5RE7GTl" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>I joined the Milwaukee chapter of the Porsche Club of America. We sponsored and worked at a renovation of 'Porsche Park' at Road America. After looking at Porsches there over the years, it was fun to have something to park there...even if it is the little brother of that sweet 911. Porsche Park is up near the outside of turn 1. I haven't been there in a while.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One thing that was cool about having this car, was the online community of 944 owners/enthusiasts. There is a 944 forum on a site called <a href="https://rennlist.com/">Rennlist</a> that would discuss problems, fixes, frustrations and fun with these cars. One member, Ice Shark, had designed a more robust battery wiring kit that solved a lot of grounding problems. I bought one and a few local members of the Rennlist 944 forum came over to help me install it. They were all younger than me, but it was cool to have 3 or 4 944s in the driveway, and Amy made a cookout lunch for them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I wanted to contribute, so I documented a few fixes I had done. I need to recreate the posts here, but this is the content I have. Links will come live if and when I update the writeups. I just checked to see if Clark's 944 Garage site was still up. It is, but I'm sad to see that Clark passed away. His writeups were detailed and super helpful.</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Fixing the Door Lock Operating Rod</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Fixing Turn Signals that Won't Reset</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1985+ 944 Parts Catalog at Porsche.com</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="http://www.clarks-garage.com/" target="_blank">Clark's 944 Garage</a> - Great workshop manual for 944s, Thanks Clark!</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Instructions for Iceshark's Wiring Kit - Written by Andre Ruest</span></li></ul><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span><!--more--></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">As I was updating this, it is pretty clear that I started this page prior to 2010 and did when final update as the car was leaving in 2010. Thanks, Emily for reminding me of the fun we had with the 944, and motivating me to update this page from the wayback machine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Eric - Aug 2022</span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-47430749921133838462022-06-19T07:51:00.002-07:002022-06-19T08:07:47.294-07:00The Story of the Cottage<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Since 1954, the Elfners have been fortunate enough to spend a lot of time on White Lake in Marquette County, Wisconsin. This is the story of how we came to be here.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1954, my grandparents, Joe and Dit Elfner, were searching for some land on which to build a summer home. My father, Eliot, has told us stories of looking at land on a river, swimming in a mucky pond on some farmland and visiting many other parcels until they came upon the property on White Lake. It was an ideal location for them being only an hour North of Madison. It was and is a beautiful, clear lake, just barely big enough for waterskiing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They had purchased a mobile home (or the Trailer as we called it) from my grandfather's employer, The University of Wisconsin, that they were going to put on the land. The trailer had been used as excess student housing during the boom of GI Bill students after World War II. Evidently by the time they had bought the land and were ready for it, it was beyond the time UW had given them to remove it from the premises. There is a vague story that my grandpa hired a couple of his larger students to help him break into the yard and liberate it for delivery to White Lake.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9u2cwTLvd6HPdwdWqiBusqNpuBHC5hb0AeVwTJ0W1WP4V-OtnjIQ7Z9YlWcJffmzLh7wtE8QAaO7VxiZbZcyJUbWI50yHyEJzYJ9Sxcl6tEVzMBfFzL15E0JZJW2xPxCSKp63-IXavT8SF1OGcuBCNezzxKtVgoZuZSnnG8kQgLegExObwdIYT1W5" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9u2cwTLvd6HPdwdWqiBusqNpuBHC5hb0AeVwTJ0W1WP4V-OtnjIQ7Z9YlWcJffmzLh7wtE8QAaO7VxiZbZcyJUbWI50yHyEJzYJ9Sxcl6tEVzMBfFzL15E0JZJW2xPxCSKp63-IXavT8SF1OGcuBCNezzxKtVgoZuZSnnG8kQgLegExObwdIYT1W5=w400-h266" title="Uncle Rick on the steps of 'The Trailer'" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />So they brought it up to the lake and put it on blocks with a nice view of the lake. It's interesting to wonder how much thought they gave to the spot because the location they chose is where the cottage stands today. I always wondered what it looked like when it was just the trailer, and only recently (2007-ish) found and scanned some slides that showed what it looked like back then.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvFDON2c8E7mpqs2JPEBi9BwNPmKwFvOQDEddued7t-qCUG88RYsZkDg16GIqReBKXiAP2AcpaIUSWXho5k3l-N08O-IjiSln3XHQX4So7mAe2fuxF3jBPa9Ow5wLH476pPHQffeVg_gfwaYPW3s_f5ggYsqD4t6OIYXxlCEeFnjlugu5pMJ50YJRn" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="687" data-original-width="1024" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvFDON2c8E7mpqs2JPEBi9BwNPmKwFvOQDEddued7t-qCUG88RYsZkDg16GIqReBKXiAP2AcpaIUSWXho5k3l-N08O-IjiSln3XHQX4So7mAe2fuxF3jBPa9Ow5wLH476pPHQffeVg_gfwaYPW3s_f5ggYsqD4t6OIYXxlCEeFnjlugu5pMJ50YJRn=w400-h269" title="Eliot working on the 1955 Porch Build" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />In 1955 they really got to work. They must have painted it, and then my grandfather (with my Dad's help) built a HUGE screen porch off the front of the trailer. It is about 16' x 24', and is the only part of the cottage that is virtually unchanged to this day. Here's how it looked from the front. If you stood at the northwest corner of the current cottage today, the view would be remarkably similar to this shot from 1955.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPIu7Azk7WkFUEggyUkRiNQcc3kyV0g-K0UroR8VHVbDCKD5vWOAJvwT-gPfzP6Q-OVzfRCXx4HE_RE0VjlptppMq3rQFZNyXg-xWc8Ow3jFCqJKoYf1ZFU9WAgCEXxlDyrEZiWErxEx_m4eV1O-Fw4aMIAGWojt4voRQjCE2uqLrRakrD045jWR4c" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="695" data-original-width="1024" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPIu7Azk7WkFUEggyUkRiNQcc3kyV0g-K0UroR8VHVbDCKD5vWOAJvwT-gPfzP6Q-OVzfRCXx4HE_RE0VjlptppMq3rQFZNyXg-xWc8Ow3jFCqJKoYf1ZFU9WAgCEXxlDyrEZiWErxEx_m4eV1O-Fw4aMIAGWojt4voRQjCE2uqLrRakrD045jWR4c=w400-h271" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">According to Eliot, "The cottage was built by Giese Lumber Co from Princeton (subsequently known as Stock Lumber and now out of business) in the spring of 1956, so it was ready for us during that summer. The fence with the brightly colored squares was completed by my Father after the cottage was completed, and uncle Rick's mode of attire and the open window in the cottage kitchen suggest the temperature was not too cold, so this was probably later than spring. I also like the red 1954 Mercury station wagon - a V8 with three-speed column shift." The trailer was moved to the side and used for storage, a kids playhouse and an extra bedroom for years to come.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJffdqiieTRq9imqKlZydkGAZbPbh8gb2Az8d6Tyw8psnhPljtQBz8Trfg2oM9tPZnu_Q6uXH7AfPj8es6er9UR2D4WZI1AjRXG7tAU4ZE4MPkDX1wTi7toQ8cwCOgJifcCGT6wsGPunJW1uA08QZcFNEgy-sdJWNY8kjDf-uU1-j2luGugF2b1oRs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJffdqiieTRq9imqKlZydkGAZbPbh8gb2Az8d6Tyw8psnhPljtQBz8Trfg2oM9tPZnu_Q6uXH7AfPj8es6er9UR2D4WZI1AjRXG7tAU4ZE4MPkDX1wTi7toQ8cwCOgJifcCGT6wsGPunJW1uA08QZcFNEgy-sdJWNY8kjDf-uU1-j2luGugF2b1oRs=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Unfortunately my grandfather only got to enjoy the finished cottage for a year because he died in September 1957. The remaining Elfners, my Grandma, my Dad and his brother Rick, enjoyed the cottage for the next nine years, but when my Grandma died in 1966 (five days before I was born), the cottage almost left the family. This is where my other grandparents, Larry and Bert Hansen, stepped in.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Because Uncle Rick was still a minor, my Grandma Elfner's will put all of her assets into trust for the benefit of Eliot and Rick. She had no provision for the cottage in her will, so the executors of her estate insisted that it be sold. My dad wasn't happy with this, but being in his twenties with a young family and a new house of his own, didn't have the ability to purchase the cottage. My Grandma Hansen told me that she knew the cottage was in Eliot's blood and hated to see him give it up. She told her husband Larry, "You've always wanted a cottage, and Eliot loves that place. Why don't we buy it and keep it in the family?" So they did. Nice save, Grandma and Grandpa!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That's how we got to grow up spending summer weekends at such an awesome place. My brothers and I would explore the woods, climb trees, ride our BMX bikes, climb the hill, fish, sail and waterski as much as my Dad would let us. He had to institute a one-and-a-half time around the lake per kid limit during the oil crisis in the 1970s because we would have skied all day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Except for my mom's decorating touches (Uncle Rick once accused her of trying to turn it into "House Beautiful") the cottage remained relatively unchanged until 1984. It was a bit crowded, and we weren't old enough to sleep in the trailer, so the kids got to sleep on the porch. One of us in Grandpa's bed, one on the fold down couch and the unfortunate one on the wooden chaise lounge with a very thin pad. When Grandma and Grandpa Hansen were there too, Grandpa would actually sleep in Grandpa's bed and Chris would have to go into the back bedroom in the house. Jon and I recall that if we were still awake when Grandpa came out to bed, we would count how many seconds elapsed from the time he began to snore. It was usually in the 20 to 40 second range.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1978, my parents decided that we needed a tennis court (there were lots of interesting ideas in the 70s), and a good chunk of the back woods was cleared to create one. At the same time, the trailer was removed and replaced with a 1 car garage with a sleeping room above it. My Grandpa, Larry Hansen, gave it the tongue-in-cheek moniker of "The Palace", which is what we call it today. The upstairs was unfinished, but had some chairs and a fold down couch, and had a cool deck off of the second floor. My mom also had the idea to use a ladder to get up there and a fireman's pole to get down (again, the 70s.) She was quickly horrified by the 12 foot drop from the second floor and it was replaced a few years later with some steps. Unfortunately the steps were way too narrow and steep, and really were about as dangerous as the ladder and pole.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1983 my parents decided it was finally time to expand the cottage. I put up some resistance because I liked it the way it was, but I was over-ruled (as most 16-year-olds are.) They worked with Norm Prachel, a Princeton builder to design an expansion and renovation to the old cottage. To check him out and evaluate his workmanship, they had him finish the upstairs of the palace with drywall. This made it much more usable, but sealed up some adult magazines I had stashed in the eaves (they're still there, including the Suzanne Somers Playboy from the late 70s!)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The end result was that they pushed out the sides of the cottage itself 8 feet in each direction, and added a second story. This allowed us to include 2 real bedrooms downstairs, and another bedroom (with its own bathroom) upstairs. The porch remained the same. This renovation also made the cottage inhabitable for the entire year with electric baseboard heating and insulation. We still closed it down in the winter, but typically had Thanksgiving there before we turned off the water and brought it back online around Easter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The latest renovation occurred in 2003 as the cottage began to feel tight when all the grandkids came to visit. My parents designed an 24 foot addition toward the driveway that would include a huge living room downstairs and a master suite and office upstairs. They used Glen, a Montello builder, who did a great job with it. The new addition is not quite as streamlined as the 1984 addition from the outside, but it looks OK and is fabulous on the inside. Now when all the grandkids come to visit, space is not the primary problem. Preparing dinner and trying to get 9 kids ready for dinner at the same time is chaos, but it's a good, fun sort chaos!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://photos.app.goo.gl/ZiGwWrptiq8rEfqN9" target="_blank">A Collection of Vintage Photos</a><br />If you don't see my comments on the photos, click the little 'i' on the upper right.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">This post was adapted from an essay that I wrote for the old elfners.com website in 2007. Then it was difficult to get all the grandkids ready for dinner. Now (in 2022) it's difficult to get them back from their busy lives to get to the cottage, but that will change too.<br /><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Eric Elfner<br />Fathers Day 2022</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Some Milestone Dates, mainly for me and future caretakers of the cottage if they need to know when something was done.</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1954 - Land and Trailer Purchased and Setup</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1955 - Porch built onto the Trailer</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1956 - Trailer moved to Palace's spot, and base Cottage was built</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1950s boat was tiller steering with a 15HP Evinrude</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Sept 1957 - Sherb Elfner passes away. All his touches that are still at the cottage were done in those short 4 years. Eliot tells me they planted 3,000 red pine seedlings so the big pines there are almost 70 years old.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1960s boat was a 14 foot runabout with a 40HP Gale. Steering wheel with cable and pulleys, no open bow.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Somewhere in the 60s, Dit sold 2 of the 5 lots between us and the resort</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1966 or 67 - Larry and Bert buy the cottage from Dit's estate</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1970s - Uncle Rick paints the Pier with leftover paint so each pier slat is a different color. He used house paint so when it peeled, Bonnie re-did it with white paint and an occasional blue slat. Larry bought the green rowboat and added the 5HP motor</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1977 - New Boat - 70HP Johnson on a 16' open bow Starcraft. We had to put the cover on every night, which was an ordeal, but totally worth it for the waterskiing.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1978 - Palace and Tennis Court Added</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1983 - Palaces upstairs Drywalled</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1983-84 - First Addition to the Cottage</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1986 - Septic System Redone (from the 1950s Cinder Block Tank) Redid the outflow to the south and added one to the east.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">1997 - New Boat! 70HP Force on 17' Starcraft. It was used. We think it's a 1995 model</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2000s - Purchased the 2 lots to the West</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2003 - Second Addition Remodel - Added the Upstairs Suite above the expanded Living Room</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2008-ish - New Motor 75HP Evinrude E-Tec (Oil Injected 2 Stroke)</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2016 - Renovated Tile Shower on Main Floor</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2021-Spring - Replaced collapsed 80s Septic Tank - They did not find a connection to the outflow to the East so it's either not hooked up or is connected outboard of the tank</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2021-Fall - Replaced Boat Trailer Tires (from 1995-ish)</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2021-Dec - Replaced Well Pump. We think the one that failed was from the 2003 addition. Learned that the pressure tank is buried out by the well (actually Eliot told me that and the Wells by Welch guys confirmed.)</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">2022-June - Replaced Tires on the Cargo Trailer (Napralla)</span></li></ul><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Elfners welcome to make corrections or suggest events I may have missed.</span></div><p></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-4162150660528666562021-10-03T14:57:00.009-07:002022-09-08T07:45:22.821-07:00Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth, Jr and Rose Evelyn Miller<p><span style="background-color: white;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNqSIiB_n8WXsGKfuBpmuRdaGSWV1iWhE4Tneu7eoSSWeq8QtJOCurSWqWa17zHbLWcv5-8n_5aVPknG7nk-F9oVUuhNB0RHdx1SC88cuzik2GnL5pzjd8q2YZx7VTCTE468GM5S21ExY/s640/OliverFairFieldWadworthJr.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="640" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNqSIiB_n8WXsGKfuBpmuRdaGSWV1iWhE4Tneu7eoSSWeq8QtJOCurSWqWa17zHbLWcv5-8n_5aVPknG7nk-F9oVUuhNB0RHdx1SC88cuzik2GnL5pzjd8q2YZx7VTCTE468GM5S21ExY/s320/OliverFairFieldWadworthJr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">This photo found on a site called 'Geni' in 2021.</span></div><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">When I was growing up, my father, Eliot, told me that his grandfather, Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth, Jr., heard Horace Greeley's advice, "Go West, Young Man" and that he did. I knew he had settled in Great Falls, Montana. I knew his sons, Oliver Fairfield III and Eliot, moved back to Boston, while my grandmother,</span><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"> </span>Zylpha Mary (Dit)<span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">, met my grandfather at Glacier National Park and came back with him to Wisconsin.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">I knew that his wife's name was Rose, and that they were friends with the artist, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Marion_Russell">Charles Russell</a>, but that was all I knew until I began corresponding with my fathers cousins, Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth IV (Waddy) and Eliot M. Wadsworth in October of 2009.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Eliot was kind enough to answer my questions of "What sort of work did he do?" and "How did his sons get back to the East Coast?" in an e-mail on October 19, 2009.</span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"What I know, or think I know, is that Oliver went to college in Boston, maybe a mix of Harvard and MIT, and then went to Montana representing Boston investors interested in participating in the big mining/minerals boom going on there, including coal, copper, etc. About 5 years ago, I went to a wedding in great Falls and took the opportunity to search out the family home, a tall, wood frame structure which is still standing on a point of land at the northeast corner of the city, overlooking what is now a very channelized Missouri River.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"The local newspaper archives were not very revealing but did mention him as one of the active business community in Great Falls, where I am quite certain he died, I think in 1934-5 while my father, Eliot, was in law school in Boston. Yes is it my understanding that both sons, and likely your mother as well, were sent east to school and college and never went back for any meaningful amount of time. My father evidently spent a year in bed with typhoid fever when he was about 10 years old, spent a lot of happy summer days at a place called Flathead Lake where he evidently enjoyed running speedboats of some sort, and learned to fly an airplane very early, apparently because his Dad had some financial or operating role in an airport. As Waddy will report, all of our old papers include lots of worthless mining stock certificates.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"Our grandmother was of German extraction, may have actually been named Muller, which was Anglicized, and was a serious pianist. I could find no record of her passing but I believe she was no longer alive when I was born in 1942, but could be wrong."</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Waddy added an interesting story about his college football career in an e-mail on October 20, 2009.</span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"Oliver F. our Grandfather was a football player. In his days one did not have to be a giant, physically, to play the game. He played for Harvard his first year and then decided ,according to my Father, that M.I.T., the following season, might have a better team. So he left Harvard and enrolled at M.I.T. After that season he determined that Harvard would have a better team, so he returned to Harvard and graduated there in 1891."</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Waddy also shared a story about Oliver and Rose in an e-mail to my father on October 13, 2009.</span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"Allow me to tell you, both Eliots, just another little story about our Grand Father in common . Note well I have not written common Grand Father, because I assure you that this gentleman was far from being common. The following was told to me by Eliot W’s Father on a winter’s evening in Beverly Farms. According to him, our Grand Mother, Rose, Oliver’s wife was a very devout roman catholic. In fact my Father, the oldest of the three children, as a little boy, had to go to church every Sunday in Great Falls Montana and pump air into the organ so that instrument could produce its melodious sounds. He did so by peddling a peddle, attached to a series of pipes which fed air to the organ. Rose would sing beautifully, which probably identifies the source of all the musical talent of Eliot W, his son and his siblings. Rose’s husband, Oliver, our Grand Father, according to Eliot W’s Father would never set a foot inside the church. Indeed the only time he was adjacent to it was when he designed the tennis court probably still located on its grounds today. ---- Irrespective of anyone’s religion whether it be Hindu, Moslem, Budhist or Catholic or any other religion for that matter. If an individual passes the Pearly Gates and notices a man measuring out a tennis court in the heavens of Paradise----That man is our Grand Father."</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Waddy also mentioned to me that the Olivers in his family alternated nicknames by generation between "Ollie" and "Waddy", so this Oliver was called Waddy as well. I can confirm that because I've seen a postcard from Charles Russell to him addressed to "Friend Waddy".</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">All of this discussion piqued my curiosity, and led me to conduct some Internet searches. In <a href="http://books.google.com/">books.google.com</a> I found a pamphlet produced by the Harvard University Class of 1892. It was written in 1907 evidently as a prelude to their 15th reunion, and collected information on their classmates current endeavors. Here is the entry Oliver, which also includes a good deal of information on Rose.</span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">OLIVER FAIRFIELD WADSWORTH, JR.<br />Born at Boston, Massachusetts.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Is still engaged in the real estate and insurance business at Great Falls, Montana. Was married at Shawano, Wisconsin, November 8, 1899, to Rose Evelyn Miller, daughter of Mathias and Katheryn Miller. Has one son: Oliver Fairfield, 3d, born at Great Falls, Montana, June 27, 1904. Home address: 104 Third Avenue Park, Great Falls, Montana. Business address: McKnight Block, Great Falls, Montana.</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">I had seen a note that Rose was from Wisconsin where I grew up, and this entry seems to confirm it. Perhaps it wasn't such a stretch for my grandmother, Dit, to settle in Wisconsin, if she had relatives here on her mother's side.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">I note that Waddy and the pamphlet have different graduating years assigned to Oliver, perhaps due to his year at M.I.T., but I left it as the sources indicated. To me it is close enough 100 years on. I'll leave it to more committed genealogists than I to discover the truth.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Eric Elfner<br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Originally publshed on the Elf Home Page - October 2009</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">In the 2010s, a woman named Susie from Great Falls, Montana, contacted me. She said she'd been doing some work in my Great Grandfathers house in Great Falls. We exchanged messages, and then the owner of the house, Theresa, got in touch with me. She sent me a bunch of pictures about Great Falls back in the day and specifically about Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth, Jr. Check this out:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMzRSDyX9JElSBTebTDzBcXn8_6GyoxGOSBDRRoL0CM0CHmIIkgw_IBAqQPAYcZVX5SjvoiRGuYlQGJM7RcNURDkT3g5oZS80cng4teA09yvpBmIUfycgfL4kfl4ymQw-NEJit2t9IK0/s2048/1915+Postcard+Address+of+Oliver+Fairfield+Wadsworth+Jr_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1149" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMzRSDyX9JElSBTebTDzBcXn8_6GyoxGOSBDRRoL0CM0CHmIIkgw_IBAqQPAYcZVX5SjvoiRGuYlQGJM7RcNURDkT3g5oZS80cng4teA09yvpBmIUfycgfL4kfl4ymQw-NEJit2t9IK0/s320/1915+Postcard+Address+of+Oliver+Fairfield+Wadsworth+Jr_cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;">A 1915 letter addressed to Mrs. O. F. Wadsworth in 1915.</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJmJObLWudtp3v4CCCKnn8cNja1tq5O0OjY1amtN8hHqIi6JSS8hf8Eqc-4nh9qSJEhnG_p2Eo6LFsN_odyq8o96GI_6CueTq67VTLSANVbzGgXMKV1IIfO6jVC1r1RZrHfcWEWmTlJU/s2048/Home+of+Oliver+and+Rose+Wadsworth+104+3rd+Ave%252C+Great+Falls%252C+MT_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1352" data-original-width="2048" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJmJObLWudtp3v4CCCKnn8cNja1tq5O0OjY1amtN8hHqIi6JSS8hf8Eqc-4nh9qSJEhnG_p2Eo6LFsN_odyq8o96GI_6CueTq67VTLSANVbzGgXMKV1IIfO6jVC1r1RZrHfcWEWmTlJU/s320/Home+of+Oliver+and+Rose+Wadsworth+104+3rd+Ave%252C+Great+Falls%252C+MT_cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">A rendering of their home at 104 Third Ave in Great Falls, MT.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Included in her pictures were several clippings from the Great Falls newspaper. Below are his obituary, a story about his passing and a memorial article written a few months after his passing. If you click on them, they should appear as a bigger size for easier reading.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafTU1-QwLvmyLHocD_ch53J2clKAlmgyUUaFlLCD5t9MNwhblivugQaWBG6GIJHwwHhuUgqkU5r-6zvym8kTMSc_mEBCeo4KycE5YjtmzlJYnndfu6J4QpdC5RY3cdTDhYskTxME3EA4/s2754/1930+Obituary+with+Picture_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2754" data-original-width="1142" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafTU1-QwLvmyLHocD_ch53J2clKAlmgyUUaFlLCD5t9MNwhblivugQaWBG6GIJHwwHhuUgqkU5r-6zvym8kTMSc_mEBCeo4KycE5YjtmzlJYnndfu6J4QpdC5RY3cdTDhYskTxME3EA4/s320/1930+Obituary+with+Picture_cropped.jpg" width="133" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5n0gbyIPRFtpd5_CIqAG4DhWVuhbOjYQneqK69id0FEOefPfQanl-nr9aKawrRjAr2Puf0r1R2rxYfRp-Wfl_DmIb0QGwkJmHIe86gC1vsLCa_qL3zv61PCKg5I1tnurgrb-lv8kshc/s2602/1930+Newspaper+Story+of+Oliver%2527s+Death_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2602" data-original-width="1209" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5n0gbyIPRFtpd5_CIqAG4DhWVuhbOjYQneqK69id0FEOefPfQanl-nr9aKawrRjAr2Puf0r1R2rxYfRp-Wfl_DmIb0QGwkJmHIe86gC1vsLCa_qL3zv61PCKg5I1tnurgrb-lv8kshc/s320/1930+Newspaper+Story+of+Oliver%2527s+Death_cropped.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J1aK1RMGBRk-h-0r6WPWBAKrD66jNJhVZ1QrK3c0KuRX598HqhyphenhyphenSBszYbreXEQO9JtTC-meUd_gbmes6aNtoibH_rQPnsMG9aOBdVa48n9yETHslfDsrzbO0ueEih6weNCPvHHWGJos/s3439/1930+Newspaper+Memorial+of+Oliver.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3439" data-original-width="915" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J1aK1RMGBRk-h-0r6WPWBAKrD66jNJhVZ1QrK3c0KuRX598HqhyphenhyphenSBszYbreXEQO9JtTC-meUd_gbmes6aNtoibH_rQPnsMG9aOBdVa48n9yETHslfDsrzbO0ueEih6weNCPvHHWGJos/s320/1930+Newspaper+Memorial+of+Oliver.jpg" width="85" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Eric Elfner</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">October 2021</span></div></div>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-69624598089591963772021-10-02T08:25:00.005-07:002022-09-08T07:48:06.736-07:00Dr. Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth & Mary Chapman Goodwin<p><span style="background-color: white;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My Great Great Grandparents were Dr. Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth and Mary Chapman Goodwin. Oliver I was an Opthalmic Surgeon in Boston in the late 1800s. I was able to find some more information about them for my old web page in 2009 and wrote this little essay about them.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZBTmUdlPKU8Qb_eP6-PBZ02JDeNeR2AaWoviTRruuhB5Zxt2PXAH7eMmq62bvtwnNHC7OvTc1cAi3AF0MWpZbtemBSETv7sdaZzudtNvbWVW9Cl4T8_kCIJna17xegXabdRt2w9HenM/s1348/Dr.+Oliver+Fairfield+Wadsworth.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1348" data-original-width="1020" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZBTmUdlPKU8Qb_eP6-PBZ02JDeNeR2AaWoviTRruuhB5Zxt2PXAH7eMmq62bvtwnNHC7OvTc1cAi3AF0MWpZbtemBSETv7sdaZzudtNvbWVW9Cl4T8_kCIJna17xegXabdRt2w9HenM/w242-h320/Dr.+Oliver+Fairfield+Wadsworth.jpg" width="242" /></span></a></div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">In a book titled, "The Goodwins of Hartford, Connecticut, descendants of William and Ozias Goodwin" By Frank Farnsworth Starr (which I located on</span><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"> </span><a href="http://books.google.com/" target="_blank">books.google.com</a><span face="Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">), I found this entry on Mary Chapman Goodwin, Dr. Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth's wife. It includes a great deal of information on their family, that I had not seen before.</span></span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Mary Chapman Goodwin, born in Boston, Mass., November 24, 1841; married, April 16, 1867, Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth, born in Boston April 26, 1838, son of Alexander and Mary Elizabeth Hubbard (Fairfield) Wadsworth. Oliver F. Wadsworth graduated at Harvard, 1860, is a Physician, residing in Boston, and is the Ophthalmic Surgeon in the Boston City and Massachusetts General Hospitals.</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Wadsworth Children:</span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote><p></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Oliver Fairfield, b. Jan. 23, 1868.</span> </span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Lucy Goodwin, Aug. 17, 1869.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Elizabeth Fairfield, Aug. 25, 1871.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Richard Goodwin, June 30, 1874.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Eliot, Sept. 10, 1876.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Philip, Jan. 6, 1881.</span></span></li></ul></span></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote><p></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Also on the Internet, I found a memorial written by a Myles Standish, MD in 1912 in a medical journal Trans Am Ophthalmol Soc. 1912; 13(Pt 1): 10.2–14: <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XKBlUG9IkSWcHl0pYdfF54yHP2IPYKWv/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Dr. Oliver Fairfield Wadsworth</a>.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">The original link was to this article was <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1322660/pdf/taos00136-0010.pdf" target="_blank">http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1322660/pdf/taos00136-0010.pdf</a> .</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">There are several descendants named Eliot in Dr. & Mrs. Wadsworth's line. Their son, Eliot, born in 1876 had a successful career in business and government. As his great nephew, Eliot Wadsworth, recalls in an e-mail from October 22, 2009: </span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">"The Eliot who was born in 1876 was my great uncle, member of the Harvard Class of 1898. His primary career was with a Boston civil engineering and construction company called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stone_and_Webster" target="_blank">Stone and Webster</a>, after which he served in the Treasury Dept under <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrew_Mellon" target="_blank">Andrew Mellon</a> and headed the International Red Cross."</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Eric Elfner<br /></span><span style="background-color: white;">Originally Published on the Elf Home Page - October 2009</span></span></p><p style="font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-88422567042477630582021-02-22T14:05:00.002-08:002021-02-22T14:05:56.133-08:00Uncle Rick<p style="text-align: center;"></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnZ6xrDGzvkRGwAW62_wPxYJeHp0NGj3LWD1r7Kbo8vZBYifGlatF7yfaNxK8f4EDcvxLpysdxFv4SqpIyHScGlTCqcS0xEhMoFE6VHiRvT39bIZZIKi-1aeh7Ndv0FdWzF585o-By5E/s2048/1974-ish+Uncle+Rick+and+Justa.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1634" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnZ6xrDGzvkRGwAW62_wPxYJeHp0NGj3LWD1r7Kbo8vZBYifGlatF7yfaNxK8f4EDcvxLpysdxFv4SqpIyHScGlTCqcS0xEhMoFE6VHiRvT39bIZZIKi-1aeh7Ndv0FdWzF585o-By5E/s320/1974-ish+Uncle+Rick+and+Justa.jpg" /></a></p><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Richard Wadsworth Elfner</b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My uncle, Rick Elfner, did not have the benefits of a long life. He got cancer in his early 20s and passed away in 1974. I was pretty young, but I have some good memories of him. He rode a motorcycle and had a cool, silver wrap-around helmet. A couple years before he died, he bought a farm near portage.* That was only about 20 minutes away from the cottage, so he would visit the lake or we would go see him there.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When my parents were moving out of Bitters Court, I found some pictures and a letter he wrote in 1972. So I thought I would share them here for my family. Here is a picture of us during a small plane journey we took from Green Bay, with my Dad's colleague, and pilot, Nat Lebish, We picked up Rick and flew around the area. Rick had a Single 8 movie camera and got some footage of his farm.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The picture above is in our front yard on Bitters Court in 1973 or so. He had a Whippet named Justa. He told us it was short for Just a Dog. We had a smaller dog, and my brothers and I thought Justa was pretty cool.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJg69o45oQXYEO1Uq17t5gQVXME54Wn59v5755AJ3C_2B_KpoFtXc0hzgmIs4Gs-nhCNckentWFSueI9vovFneDRupIKfyD8P8eGGXuZMNPPzFx6oGXquns0r6wH5YqqKLrn_ez1YXEJk/s2048/1973-ish+Uncle+Rick%252C+Eric%252C+Eliot+and+Nat+Lebish%2527s+son+near+Portage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1602" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJg69o45oQXYEO1Uq17t5gQVXME54Wn59v5755AJ3C_2B_KpoFtXc0hzgmIs4Gs-nhCNckentWFSueI9vovFneDRupIKfyD8P8eGGXuZMNPPzFx6oGXquns0r6wH5YqqKLrn_ez1YXEJk/s320/1973-ish+Uncle+Rick%252C+Eric%252C+Eliot+and+Nat+Lebish%2527s+son+near+Portage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Rick, Eric & Eliot Elfner and Nat Lebish's son.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1972, my dad, Eliot, bought a 1972 Gran Torino station wagon for our family car and sold the old one, a 1968 or 69 Ford Fastback to Rick (the Fastback is in the background in the top picture.) Shortly after, Rick wrote this letter to Eliot finalizing the terms of the deal and sharing some news about the farm. That letter hung in my Dad's office ever since, and I remember reading it when I was in high school. It was still there last month so I liberated and scanned it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66LZ68Wb8baWqp3edqzDqqNTU8oCX4I4VZnT2VosQFq3lSiYs1QJJCW4j540k-rSAqiRo6ZHYQSrxxg5kemXZiBQF6PzemyT5_enxp_VpiiBXaBDV3pXKvw9tY8mVifJovewvpDCXmr0/s2048/1972-10-22+Letter+from+Rick+to+Eliot+page+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1559" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66LZ68Wb8baWqp3edqzDqqNTU8oCX4I4VZnT2VosQFq3lSiYs1QJJCW4j540k-rSAqiRo6ZHYQSrxxg5kemXZiBQF6PzemyT5_enxp_VpiiBXaBDV3pXKvw9tY8mVifJovewvpDCXmr0/w203-h265/1972-10-22+Letter+from+Rick+to+Eliot+page+1.jpg" width="203" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiR6JAf_OV9-OY4RpOsgfduI1VqVE1mqWuDAgKc2sgXqnn1HLd2pA-B7hlST8OKM3VWQk6wY6lwqC0dN61kKT02taXEA3nR6QvoaHv5dH4_3GBrWigFgGZloGZTCQJ71_GFj-VWom1Is/s2048/1972-10-22+Letter+from+Rick+to+Eliot+page+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1549" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiR6JAf_OV9-OY4RpOsgfduI1VqVE1mqWuDAgKc2sgXqnn1HLd2pA-B7hlST8OKM3VWQk6wY6lwqC0dN61kKT02taXEA3nR6QvoaHv5dH4_3GBrWigFgGZloGZTCQJ71_GFj-VWom1Is/w200-h265/1972-10-22+Letter+from+Rick+to+Eliot+page+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> <br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I like his signoff, 'With Brotherly Regards'.<br />I use that with Jon and Chris sometimes.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I don't know that much else about Uncle Rick. It's nice to see how he talked in the letter. I remember one time he came to the cottage in jeans. He decided he wanted to water ski, but didn't have a swimsuit. So he just got a scissors and cut them off then and there. We were impressed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The farm had a barn with big piles of hay bales and a think rope from the ceiling. Depending on how brave you were, you could climb pretty high on the hay bales and swing across the barn. He was a lot braver than we were!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Last story, he was building an RC model airplane on his kitchen table. When he would finish a section, he would hang it from the ceiling right above. Maybe off of the light or maybe there was no light. Every time we visited, I would check it out to see the progress. One visit it was almost done, but on the next visit, I saw that it was hanging in its place, but was completely smashed and trashed. I asked what happened, and he told me it was on its maiden flight, but he lost sight of it over a hill and that was the end of it. He seemed OK with it, but I was sad!</span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There are a few more pics of his farm in this roll of film from 1973. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://goo.gl/photos/XidvZa9Uzg1CYz9EA" target="_blank">1973 Cottage and Uncle Rick's Farm</a><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here's to you Uncle Rick. See you on the other side! I want a ride on the motorcycle, please!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">* I saw it as soon as I typed it. A couple years before he bought the farm, he bought a farm....</span></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-42267007038633297652021-02-21T09:09:00.004-08:002021-02-21T15:46:25.807-08:001979 Sha Na Na Concert at Brown County Arena<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8wwEOJ03tUNklgonvNuiDpTs4eF-J1k2MgbZjQPw8GysQx0TifKm4UlljPpyCSfyl_Asl0ZQ4Uca8-M5fuhk4AMj7JLjUUyJKTdu4fWRit6w3yXw4mjiGUBcdJSHWIcCCRLyRQhjnxw/s429/Sha+Na+Na+logo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="117" data-original-width="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8wwEOJ03tUNklgonvNuiDpTs4eF-J1k2MgbZjQPw8GysQx0TifKm4UlljPpyCSfyl_Asl0ZQ4Uca8-M5fuhk4AMj7JLjUUyJKTdu4fWRit6w3yXw4mjiGUBcdJSHWIcCCRLyRQhjnxw/s320/Sha+Na+Na+logo.png" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Yesterday, my buddy, Phil, sent me a link on facebook to a Sha Na Na concert at the Brown County Arena that happened 30 years ago in 1981. He wondered if that might possibly be the show we saw with my parents. That was an eventful night where lots of things happened, but it didn't feel like 1981 (8th grade) to me.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5cBK8WDTYHdYmsOtvAua9jfFhp_ADLzngfwqL19PD5zLVWhK2I0rh5vbq2Zt3JIldmCvdhyphenhyphen_b7N-WdJg1pyI9thNoVKpe1DyoKOgbceuuyN77MpNswHz-rROiRV2BZ_Cxy7cj_Zb5lk/s1796/Sha+Na+Na+band+photo.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1341" data-original-width="1796" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5cBK8WDTYHdYmsOtvAua9jfFhp_ADLzngfwqL19PD5zLVWhK2I0rh5vbq2Zt3JIldmCvdhyphenhyphen_b7N-WdJg1pyI9thNoVKpe1DyoKOgbceuuyN77MpNswHz-rROiRV2BZ_Cxy7cj_Zb5lk/s320/Sha+Na+Na+band+photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I did some research and found this website listing all concerts at the BCA. It is not complete, but it did find an August 12, 1979 show - Sha Na Na and The Shirelles. Phil and I would have known who Sha Na Na was - they had a TV show and were the band in the Grease film, but I'm pretty sure we weren't familiar with The Shirelles. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here are the stories that make me think we saw the 1979 show.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I wasn't sure how Phil and I ended up going. I have a vague memory that we met some of my parents friends there, so I thought maybe we tagged along on a couples night. My Mom tells me that I wanted to go to the show with a friend, and they weren't comfortable with us going alone, so they came along. She confirms we did meet some of their friends who were sitting nearby.</span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bpDP_whtsuxo4-vKxUBLRGqy6piB6ItiNMg4k6WNjRAhz0D2l_aA4k4jXy457G0TY8-XDhDF_O6QQdRy_NC6nSHLfgWrwKVmXeZMSyX26ihjBf6G3ZsT7xHIyJ6yP3tRx7Lr7OfYUpM/s1280/1972+2002.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bpDP_whtsuxo4-vKxUBLRGqy6piB6ItiNMg4k6WNjRAhz0D2l_aA4k4jXy457G0TY8-XDhDF_O6QQdRy_NC6nSHLfgWrwKVmXeZMSyX26ihjBf6G3ZsT7xHIyJ6yP3tRx7Lr7OfYUpM/s320/1972+2002.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">The four of us drove their tog</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ether in my Dad's 1973 BMW 2002 (clue number 1, he traded that in for the 1980 Avanti) very much like this one. It was a tiny car, and he was able to fit it into a tiny parallel parking spot right in front of the Arena. I remember he was quite proud of that parking job, but someone took umbrage with how close he parked to them and kicked a dent in the door. Mean streets of Green Bay in the 70s!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Honestly, I don't really remember the show. I was getting to the end of a phase where I really liked the idea of the 50s. Happy Days, Grease - who didn't want to be Fonzie or Danny Zuko. By 8th grade I was starting to figure out my own musical tastes (definitely influenced by Steven La and his brother and sister.) Summer between 6th and 7th grade, I may have still been interested in 50s culture, but I slammed the door on that pretty hard shortly after.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsf-bwwmMCS9yRqNKHH1a_0Xqirrk30IA8EdgYNH96scs7JXCAtH7baGpGxLPtrvrdsXJNsuypwTIlfSysxmzwqXyjvlJ0dA7yEwtBkjpo-xHYwtGkFVv12QHBPVREPX1vjwSIvmNOlxM/s2048/1979+Bonnie+Dancing+with+Sha+Na+Na.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1616" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsf-bwwmMCS9yRqNKHH1a_0Xqirrk30IA8EdgYNH96scs7JXCAtH7baGpGxLPtrvrdsXJNsuypwTIlfSysxmzwqXyjvlJ0dA7yEwtBkjpo-xHYwtGkFVv12QHBPVREPX1vjwSIvmNOlxM/s320/1979+Bonnie+Dancing+with+Sha+Na+Na.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">The other story is that we had really good seats. Second or third row. During the Sha Na Na set, they had a dance contest, and three of the band picked out three cute girls from the audience to be their dance partners, and Denny picked my Mom, Bonnie. They danced to one song and big Lenny announced the winner. My Dad must have had his camera because he got this shot. Lenny is announcing the winner and the prize...a dream dance with Lenny!</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I suspect Denny was the best dancer in the band and could get the most out of his dance partners. He probably won the contest most nights. A sad side note is that he died in 2015. It sounds like he had an interesting career outside of music. He graduated from Yale Law School and taught entertainment law at as a Professor at the University of Dayton Law School (all this is from wikipedia.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Another memory that makes me think it was the 1979 show is that I have an image in my minds eye of getting out of the car that night. The arena loomed close by, it was a nice night, but it felt like summer was waning and there was a very nice sunset off toward Lambeau. I had to double check that Lambeau is west of where the arena was, and it is. If that memory is accurate, it feels like August.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Phil, thanks for the question generating the second essay on the replacement for my elfners.com website. I am glad we have this memory from early in our friendship. My respect for Sha Na Na increased in high school when I learned they played at Woodstock. As a kid, I just focused on the new songs from Grease - Summer Nights, One That I Want, but I have revisited that soundtrack and really enjoyed what Sha Na Na was playing at the dance. One of the numbers, 'Those Magic Changes' was in the original broadway Grease. It is playing in the background under dialog, but John Travolta sings along for a bit. He did a lot of Grease on Broadway.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DWoyD5gtlWs" width="320" youtube-src-id="DWoyD5gtlWs"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is the list I found. It's good, but it is not quite complete. The 1981 show Phil mentioned is not listed. I'm sure I went to a George Thorogood show there in the late 80s this isn't there either. Elvis played BCA in April 1977. I did remember that he played there shortly before his death. That Elvis show did not get a good review as you might imagine.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://943jackfm.com/2019/05/01/list-every-concert-ever-at-the-brown-county-arena/" target="_blank">https://943jackfm.com/2019/05/01/list-every-concert-ever-at-the-brown-county-arena/</a></span><br /></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Note: On the new blog sites, I am trying to limit PII to first names, but I guess I just aged us too by saying what grades we were in. This is hard!</span></p><p></p>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448274592534318775.post-85542985727339510502020-01-12T10:07:00.002-08:002021-02-22T14:54:37.427-08:00New Web Presence for the Elfs<span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">I have a pretty large collection of html pages for photos, essays, missives and what not that was fun to create over the past 20 years, but definitely belongs in the late 90s. This blogspot is a marker for me to begin moving it somewhere that is easier to edit, easier to view on mobile devices and more secure.</span><br />
<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span>
<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Here we go!</span></span>Elf89http://www.blogger.com/profile/12374368643312438153noreply@blogger.com0