1024 Abbington Road, Crystal Lake, Illinois

This was our first house that we owned as a family.  We moved in late 1969 and moved out in 1973.  It was a typical suburban house of the era with the bonus of having an English theme for the subdivision.  I remember the names Canterbury and Coventry for different regions of the development.  The schools had the same names as the regions.  At least that is how I remember it.

It is a two story house so it was great to play on the stairs as kids.  One of the tricks was to sit at the top of the stairs and attempt to build up enough downward momentum to bounce down to the bottom.  It was extra fun to add sound effects with hopefully an interested kid audience.  It was also great fun to see how different toys would roll/fall/self-destruct down the stairs.  The trickiest bit was that the stairs were not straight so the L-shaped turn always presented a bit of bummer since it was hard to get anything to go past it.  I suspect that our parents appreciated the break in the stair’s destructive powers.

The only thing being more fun than this was Grandma’s laundry chute in Humboldt.  The upstairs had a cabinet door that lead straight down to the laundry on the first floor.  Endless hours were spent chucking down various objects to the waiting cousins downstairs.  Sometimes something would get stuck and we would have to find heavier toys or other objects to unclog the pipe.  It was a good thing that it wasn’t big enough for a kid otherwise that would have been tried as well.

At 1024 Abbington, I remember getting my own room.  This was quite a novelty even though I suspect that might have had my own room before this.  I was allowed to pick the sheets for the double bed and I selected a “Stars and Stripes” theme that I still clearly remember.  It was impressive to not only get a big bed but also be allowed to express freedom in what it looked like as well.  There were lots of kids books on bookshelves in my room.  I remember this because when I was learning how to read and write I decided to write on the wood (not stained) bookshelves with my name.  At the time, I knew my first name and not my last name.  So, “Jeff Boo” became my name and I did a good job marking my territory.  My parents were not however impressed with my level of graffiti.  The punishment was to try to get it off.  Unfortunately crayon can be trick to get off unstained wood.

I remember going to school for Kindergarten and Grades 1 and 2 in Crystal Lake.  They built a new school in 1970 so I went to two different schools in that time.  I have fairly happy memories of this time.  Everything was new and exciting.

Crystal Lake was a great place to grow up.  It wasn’t that far from Chicago but yet it had more of a small town atmosphere. It was a fairly safe place.  I walked to Kindergarten on my own for most of that first year of school.

Debra and I both had good friends from nearby houses.  Kids were always out playing in the front yards and the neighbors knew each other.  My Mom is still in touch with a friend of hers from this time.

Strangely enough they still delivered milk to the houses then.  You can spot it in the background of the picture below.

My first memory of a song happened in Crystal Lake while at daycare.  It was by Simon and Garfunkel and was being sung by one of the carers.

We went to many 4th of July celebrations in the park.  One particular time the fireworks got too close to the crowd and actually landed on some blankets as the people scattered.  Strange how things like this are what you remember.

I remember Dad making a big deal about the moon mission in 1969.  I vaguely remember seeing black and white pictures of an astronaut walking around the surface of the moon.  At the time I couldn’t understand what was so important about that.

By the end of our time there, Dad and Mom decided that they wanted more space.  We moved out to Woodstock which is really close.  We went from about 1/2 acre to 5 acres in the country.  I’ll write about there another time.

Dad and Mohawk Boy

Shock! Horror! Can it be? Why yes, it truly is a baby with a mohawk.

This picture was taken September 6, 1965 in Topeka, Kansas (according to notes on the back). I have these pictures because my Grandma decided to clear out her picture archives and give them to the people who were in the pictures.

I’m the baby with the “losing my hair” attitude. They say that taking pictures of babies when they are asleep is much easier. So true and very practical advice.

My Dad worked for the Air Force at the time. He was a pilot on the C130 “Hercules” cargo planes. I’m pretty sure he started in 1964 and ended in 1968 to later join TWA as a navigator of 727s.

It wasn’t until I was much latter that I learned that Dad had done flying into Vietnam for supplies trips. He has told me that he only ever brought in non-ammunition materials (which is possible considering the bases there). He now believes that might be one reason he survived given that it was not bad intent.

Anyways, these were early days since I was only five weeks old at the time.

I am the first child and the first grandchild of my Mom’s family. I was heavily spoiled for years to come.

Harvey Diamond – 1938 in the News

Awhile back I tried to find out any information about my Grandpa on the web.  Besides finding a fairly famous author with the same name, I couldn’t find anything.

Once I refined the search to “Harvey Diamond” Humboldt, then it found something I didn’t expect:  an old copy of a school paper from Crookston, Minnesota.  Grandpa is mentioned in part because his grades were good.

I’m more impressed that someone took the time to scan the newspaper after all this time.  It was also great to find an echo of his life at school before becoming a full time farmer in 1940.

Grandpa must have been impressed with the school.  He would later send his two oldest children to Crookston.

Aside from Grandpa being mentioned, the paper is an interesting read.  It truly was a different era and it seems like it is getting further and further away as we roll into the 21st century with greater momentum.

Lake Bronson

Whenever we went to Humboldt, Minnesota to visit family, a trip to Lake Bronson was always a serious option. Essentially Lake Bronson is where the people of Kittson County go to enjoy swimming, fishing, camping, and hiking. The interesting history of Lake Bronson reveals that it was built by forming a dam on the Two Rivers in the thirties. To learn more about the background of Lake Bronson, please check the official web site from the Minnesota DNR.

From a personal perspective, it was a great place to be a kid. Unlike any other place near it, it had a beach. This beach also had a snack bar at the back. Either you cooled off in the water or you could run across the hot sands to get an ice cream from the shop if you had enough money. The beach would not win any awards (like having lots of small rocks in the water) but as a kid this didn’t seem to matter. Given that kids just love water AND sand, it probably does not really give much cause for concern. Being so far north you would think that the risk of sunburn would be very reduced. Not true! I remember getting burned from time to time.

I remember there being a rope to section off the beach swimming area. This was to discourage swimmers from going to far and also to make sure that boaters didn’t get too close. I remember us daring each other to swim out to the rope.

Fishing was always a popular option around the lake. It is probably one of the few places I caught a fish. I seem to remember that perch were fairly common. I didn’t mind catching them but I left the cleaning up to either my uncle or cousins. We used to do this around the shoreline and especially around the dam. You could buy bait down the road and given the fish were hungry it really wasn’t that hard to catch something.

Lake Bronson was really two things. It was the park with the lake and it was also the town. The town largely benefited from the trade of tourism. Last time it was there it was still kicking and doing much better financially than a place like Humboldt.

My Grandma loved going camping out at Lake Bronson. Every year she would take the camper out to the lake and just stay there for some specified time (which could be at least a week). As a young grandkid, I remember spending many summer holidays in the camper with other grandkids. We played cards, listened to the radio, went on walks, went to the beach, and just did kid things. Grandma was a great host on these expeditions and we were always well stocked with supplies. I remember sitting around the campfire at night with the potential for s’mores. It was always a bit cozy at nights since camper manufacturers always lie about the sizes of their beds. It was great fun. We would get visitors from Humboldt (like Grandpa) and it seems like everyone in Kittson Country knows each other anyhow.

When we went back in 2002, Grandma was still continuing the tradition. Grandma and Grandpa offered for us (my family) to stay at the upgraded camper at Lake Bronson. We were slated to stay for one week. Unfortunately that year was one of the worst years for mosquitoes. It was so bad that the deer were flushed out of the river areas and into areas closer to the towns (with no trees). Being the amateurs we were, we stayed there. It didn’t take long to realized that the mosquitoes were too many. It became custom to use bug spray in volume whenever we went to or from the car. It became a gauntlet to get to the restroom without being heavily assaulted. I’m not kidding! It was so bad that the mosquitoes could actually draw blood in large quantities and you would be able to do nothing about it. No joke. Don’t underestimate the Minnesota mosquito. It is big, fast, and knows exactly where your must vulnerable vein exists. Florida mosquitoes are quite lazy by comparison.

We managed okay for a few days. It was always a rush to get anywhere. Then one night, something bad happened. I was up cleaning up and everyone else was asleep. I noticed a mosquito that had sneaked in. I hunted him down and showed no mercy. Soon after, another one appeared. He was dispatched as well. And then another… and another…. what is going on here?

To my shock, they had somehow managed to come down the cooking vent from the stove. Even worse, there was nothing I could do to stop them. The vent was supposed to be closed already and most likely they were getting by some crack I could not close. After a few seconds imagining the terrible amount of bites we would have by morning, I woke the family and we left the camper to go back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. It was a very wise decision given that there was no way we could win the battle. We only had so much spray and I swear that some of those mosquitoes were immune anyways.

It was really a bit of a freak year for mosquitoes. However, even in a slow year you should pay attention to the threat.

The funny thing is that some locals just accept mosquitoes and let them bite. I guess that is what you need to do to live there. It’s like you become a kind of blood bank for the future generations of bigger and better mosquitoes.

Regardless of all this, I’ll always have pleasant memories of Lake Bronson. It is one of those places that seems to escape time and always feels like it is inviting you to remember a different time. Be sure to check out the beach and climb the tower. Camp and do some fishing. It’s not a place that you are meant to brag about but really just a place to spend time with your family and enjoy the timelessness of the joy of summer.