There is a path my grandfather and father used to take all the time; I remember being on it, many years ago. I couldn’t tell you much about that path, other than it was in the Dells. It was nowhere near the boardwalk of the Dells. When I was little, the Boardwalk was tiny — comprised of the main street of Wisconsin Dells The Fudge shop (that I will never forget) on one end. The source shops on both sides. Fake items that appeared to come from the Chippewa Indian reservation but when turned over clearly said made in Japan. Later I suspect that would become made in China. But when I was little wandering the shops, it was Japan that mass-produced fake items that delighted a small child.
The glass blowing shop was also there. The glass blowing shop was owned by my father’s cousins. My grandfather, when they were in the Dells, originally owned the shoe repair store. They, my grandfather, grandmother, three aunts, and father lived over the shop. I have talked to one of my dad’s cousin that was around at that time, she spoke of the shop, but there are no pictures. It is as if a line was drawn in 1956 before that didn’t exist because there are no pictures. My father was closest to his oldest sister and his youngest sister. His oldest sister died when I was 6 or so years old. She had become a professor of Archaeology at the University of Michigan. I remember visiting her when she was sick
I remember that visit in Ann Arbor Michigan. Sitting on a couch with a Cleopatra extension, talking. My cousins were older than I was. The oldest was into comic books and acting. The younger of the two of more athletic. He would later return to the Dells and become a glass blower and own the glass blowing shop in the Dells. The other was the fourth tragedy that I know of, and the third tragedy I remember. My Uncle, married to my fathers oldest sister had killed himself in California. That before I was born. Or if I was alive I didn’t remember much I was an infant. The second was the death 5 to maybe 7 years later of lung cancer. The third was the death of my grandfather. The fourth tragedy was the death of my fathers oldest sisters son. He led a tortured life after her death.