Mike Vanderberg: Free Thinker, Anarchist, Village Anchor

By F. Josephine Arrowood
Sun contributor
Since the sudden death of Mike Vanderberg on August 11, at the site of the recent Dunegrass Music Festival, residents of the Village of Empire and beyond have responded to the news with shock, sadness and a sense of disbelief. This generous, eccentric spirit created and presided over village politics, institutions, events and even controversies for nearly three decades, leaving his mark on virtually every aspect of life in the picturesque coastal community.
Glen Arbor resident Beth Bricker, whose daughter Hannah Clark attended the alternative Blue Heron School that Mike helped start in the 1980s, described an impromptu midnight parade that family and friends created on the night after he died. His wife Carol and daughters Amelia, Alyce and Ashley walked barefooted down the street, while Mike’s old truck, festooned with vines, held a band of musicians who hopped out periodically to serenade spectators. A motorcyclist, speakers belting out “Amazing Grace” and the 1960s hit “Lean On Me,” acted as parade marshal, stopping any traffic that threatened to disrupt the ceremonial cortege, as it made its way from Front Street to the Dunegrass field near St. Philip Neri Catholic Church on LaCore Street.

In addition to his work with the Village Planning Commission, which he founded with a small group of residents, Mike created and nurtured several cultural events that have since become solid village traditions, including February’s annual Winterfest, with its infamous Polar Dip in South Bar Lake, and Anchor Day, celebrating the town’s maritime heritage. His best-known creation is the Sleeping Bear Dunegrass and Blues Festival. Originally a one-day showcase of local bands, the festival has expanded over 15 years to become a four-day extravaganza of regional and national music acts, drawing over 10,000 participants to the most recent event, which ended on August 5.
Doug Chapman of Cedar is one of the core Dunegrass volunteers who worked with Mike since the festival’s second year; along the way, the two kindred spirits became “dear friends. He had a thousand friends and his family became my family.” He describes Mike as “a freethinking engineer of the creative force. And yes, he was an anarchist against the dark force that tried to stop the flow.” Each year, it seemed that the festival would founder under the weight of disapproval from village administrators and irate neighbors of the original site on M-72, across from the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore headquarters. Yet somehow, each year, Mike and Carol magically managed to pull the rabbit out of the hat, and Dunegrass played on again.
Doug also recalls the saga of the dog Lopez, a family pet whose misadventures in the village resulted in a harsh sentence that was never carried out, thanks to Mike’s stonewalling. “The judge sentenced Lopez to be put to death. When [the Vanderbergs] wouldn’t produce said dog, the judge ruled, ‘Well, somebody’s got to sit in jail for 30 days.’ Mike volunteered to do it. Temporarily I harbored the condemned fugitive ‘til I found it a home in Alaska. Mike never held a grudge; if he had one, he’d say it right out and deal with it,” he says.
In addition to saving his daughter’s dog, Mike paid bail for arrested acquaintances, arranged airfare home for a troubled teen, offered the use of his truck to stranded strangers, and kept open arms and an open door at his house, offering refuge to a number of sojourners for both short and extended periods of time. Some of these, mainly young people, became known as “The Pod,” a communal family that has flourished under the Vanderbergs’ free-spirited nurturance. One of Mike’s extended family, Sarah Jane Grierson, sang a hauntingly beautiful solo at his funeral on August 15, while longtime Dunegrass cohort “Wild Bill,” who traditionally closes each festival with a flute rendition of “Amazing Grace, concluded the service with the hymn.
Like everyone else, Mike had his feet of clay, but they only served to make this complex individual more intriguing, and increased the respect and admiration many people felt for him. The Glen Lake Library on Front Street is neighbor to both the Vanderberg residence and the Blue Heron building where many of the family and friends’ creative impulses unfold. Library director and Village Council member David Diller, who saw him almost daily for 10 years, recalls his early impressions.
“I couldn’t help but walk past their house and think, ‘What an interesting group of people live here. Is this a youth hostel or what?’ At first, they seemed to be freewheeling scofflaws, but the more I got to know him, the more respect I had for his ability to be his own guy. He didn’t always follow the rules, and it was well-known that he had some demons, but he was well-intentioned, very creative, and made the community a lot more interesting.”
He reflects, “He made interesting lifestyle choices. The Pod seems pretty foreign to most, but it worked for him. I admired him — and the family — for the way they choose to be independent nonconformists. The Vanderbergs have their own style, which is hard for some people to accept, but ultimately, they’re real assets to the community. Mike was a breath of fresh air, and very, very committed to Empire.”
Phil Deering, owner of Deering’s Market, also recalls his former manager with great warmth. “He was my manager for at least 10 or 12 years. Anyone calling up, needing anything, he was there. He made sure we had Anchor Day, and Winterfest, the Polar Dip. I was on the Planning Commission with him at least 15 years, he was there making sure the community didn’t get too far away from its roots.”
Phil continues, “He was always looking after the underdog, and if people said, ‘Eh, that ain’t going to work,’ he’d come up with a way to make it happen.” Other employees, including Shaunna Peacock of Empire, who worked with him for about four years, says, “He was loved by all and will be greatly missed.”
About Dunegrass, Phil muses, “I wondered how much fun he was having [in recent years] … great to be successful, but at the same time, it got pretty big. He put his whole heart and soul into it. I think, at least before you left, you got to see your dream come true.”
Recently, Mike left Deering’s to pursue other business ventures. He took a crash course in sound recording at Northwestern Michigan College, and outfitted the Blue Heron building with recording equipment, so that musicians could record CDs. He also started a labor collective, matching up carpenters, painters and others for jobs people needed done. His work as local coordinator for recent Dunegrass Festivals occupied him as well, although in the past three or four years, he entered into a partnership with Grassroots Productions, who booked the music acts, while Mike remained as local coordinator with vendors, volunteers, village administrators and nearby property owners.
Perhaps Mike’s greatest gift was his ability to provoke others into new thoughts and untested actions, then calmly ride the waves of strong opinion and stormy opposition to a place where people could come together, to make a stronger community that is friendly, family-oriented and fun. Like the famous anchor on the beach, he remains one of Empire’s most stalwart symbols.
A celebration of Mike Vanderberg’s life will be held on his birthday, September 30, at the Empire Town Hall. Look for more details on this and the fundraiser for the Vanderberg family in the September 13 issue of the Glen Arbor Sun or visit us on the web at www.glenarborsun.com.