News from the “Real World”
By Elizabeth Westie
Dedicated to the memory of Elizabeth’s Aunt Helen Westie Wetterholt, a frequent contributor to the Glen Arbor Sun, and an Empire mainstay who passed away in May, at 93 years old. Read her obituary below.
Things in Empire mostly stay the same. It is one of life’s true miracles, and a gift to us each summer. Sophie the dog and I have just taken our morning walk. We stopped at Deering’s (Sophie tied to the post near the public water fountain) and I bought Norconk asparagus and dogfood. A fancy Traverse City restaurant where I dined last night featured “Norconk asparagus” on the menu, as though it were a well-known delicacy. It’s well known here in Empire!)
We greeted Phil and chatted with the friendly cashiers. A pair of orioles is nesting in the big tree next to the Weese’s garden, which is in full glory. We miss the moonflower in Alice Diggins’ garden, but she had a lovely show of lily-of-the-valley and forget-me-nots earlier this summer. Their scent was on the breeze, along with the wild phlox. We walked up and down the tree-shaded streets and friendly alleys where one sees evidence of people’s less public lives. We passed the village offices where Jack’s barbershop (former headquarters of the Dirty Old Men’s Club) once stood. We passed into a reverie about Bolton’s general store, where we once bought candy, balsa wood airplanes, overalls, bandannas and fabric for summer sewing projects. And the library, remembering the bookmobile that used to park on Front Street once a week. Fun as that was, the library is a distinct improvement, with its fine collection of books and dvds, and its excellent staff.
We passed by Holly’s lovely garden, where Mr. Fradd once had a sign inviting us to “Walk In,” and marvel at what a great job she’s done with the place. Sophie smelled many a spot where deer had left their scent. Back at home, we admire Marie’s uniforms hanging on the line, and note that Bob has mowed more than his share of the lawn, as usual. It isn’t necessary to pass a line-drying ordinance here in Empire. Later, I did my banking and heard the day’s news. ( Last spring Jennifer sent me a friendly note warning me that my account was about to become dormant, but that she could withdraw a dollar and deposit a dollar to reinstate it. Now that’s real “community banking!”)
We return to Empire each summer to fill up our tank for another year “away”, and dream of the day when we will not have to leave. Some of us figure out a way to stay forever. On the wall of the red house on Niagara Street is a quote from E. B. White, “Every day was a perfect day and every night was peaceful.” It perfectly expresses our days in Empire. We wake to the sounds of birdsong and check to see if it’s an “Empire Day,” when the sky is that perfect Empire Blue. We inhale the crisp air and listen for the lake. We go to bed after viewing the sunset over the lake and sharing conversation with our neighbors and other members of the Sunset Club, known and unknown. We go to bed by starlight, seeing the Milky Way, which is nearly imperceptible in much of the modern world. We whisper a prayer of thanks to those who worked to dim the streetlights.
Our hearts are filled with gratitude to the Taghons and the Deerings and the Oberschultes and the Weese’s and many others, old- time families and newer residents who “get it” (and who will forgive me for not listing their names!) for maintaining this little hamlet in such fine style and with such love, energy and hard work! We owe them a debt of gratitude we can never repay.
My father said it best in a poem entitled “Hey Kim” written in about 1974.
Hey Kim –
Why did you come here to Empire?
Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it doesn’t
exist? We made it all up!
We invented it to “run away from all
the sorry scheme of things entire.”
So we got a lot of sand and green things,
and flowers and a lot of water and
branch-holding tree limbs and some
beautiful persons like tom and florence
and the millers and chapmans and jasons
and deerings, and little dirk barr and
big brother tim, and we put them all together
with glue and papier mache, and we
brought in cape may warblers and robins
and cardinals to sing, and hung the sun
and quite a lot of stars and moonbeams.
It really is not what it seems when we
wait for spring to come here.
We wanted to “mold the world much
closer to heart’s desire.”
Somebody should have told you
about this before.
Of course I was here!
You looked in all the wrong places.
I was the needle in the needing haystack
needing to be found. I was reading a
book called “Some Other Day”
I was up on the bluffs in the old orchard
eating the plums
swimming at cripple creek and lying on the sunsand
and chasing rout at the iron bridge
on the Platte where it’s at.
Waliking toward the sleeping bear and skipping flat stones at the shore
and much more.
I was here – I saw you once or twice.
Didn’t you see where my eye’s wings
Carried me ‘round the full moon?
I guess this was tonight – Time and Place
I’m not very good at.
I have a lovely hat.
I thought you saw me on the back
Of the loon diving for fish, I don’t much
like it raw,
and sailing around with the swans
Didn’t I go that night as a gull
to fly toward the sunset?
Most of the time I was in the old
two holer next to the barn, shitting the real word
in the place where it belongs.
Helen Westie obituary
TRAVERSE CITY — Helen Westie Wetterholt , 93, died peacefully in Traverse City on Monday, May 9. A longtime resident of Empire and the Leelanau Peninsula, Helen was born at home in Dodgeville on Feb. 5, 1918, to Hjalmar Ojala Westie and Anna Sandell Westie.
Helen spent her childhood in Dearborn and Rapid City and picked cherries during the depression on the Old Mission Peninsula. She was part of a large Finnish family and took great pride in her Finnish heritage.
Helen was a 1936 graduate of Fordson High School in Dearborn. Helen went on to attend the University of Michigan from 1936 to 1940 and received a teaching certificate.
She married her husband, George J. Wetterholt, in 1943 in Dearborn.
Helen was a beloved English teacher in Michigan, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. She especially enjoyed teaching 7th grade at Friends’ Central School in Philadelphia. Later, she had a catering business in California and was for years a housemother for the Alpha Omicron Pi sorority at the University of Florida.
It was during her teaching at Friends’ Central School that she developed her Quaker beliefs and spirituality. She regularly attended Quaker meetings in Gainesville, Fla.
She was passionate about literature, music and the arts. She was often quoting poetry, attending classical music events in Philadelphia, Interlochen, Gainesville and Traverse City, or writing. Though a teacher, she was a journalist at heart. In retirement, Helen was a contributor to the Glen Arbor Sun, giving vivid accounts of living Up North in northwestern Michigan. She also published a memoir and collection of stories titled ‘Put Me in the Kip’.
Helen loved languages and traveled the world with George and later with her many friends, nieces and granddaughters. She is fondly remembered as The Bumblebee because of her frequent travels in the United States and abroad. Helen never knew a stranger and thus easily made friends worldwide, especially in Europe. Her writing talent made her an avid letter writer, corresponding with family and overseas pen pals.
She spent her retirement years in Empire near her beloved brothers, Charles and Frank Westie, and their families, while wintering in Gainesville, Fla. More recently, Helen lived at Glen Eagle Retirement home in Traverse City. Fittingly, her passing occurred while the trilliums were in bloom, her favorite Michigan season.
Helen is survived by her son, Dr. David (Annick Cristin) Wetterholt, of Saratoga, Calif.; her daughter-in-law, Sherrie Wetterholt, of Bloomington, Ind.; two granddaughters, Kirstin (Michael) Maxwell, of Martinsville, Ind., and Laura Wetterholt, of Barcelona, Spain; and a great-granddaughter, Isabel Maxwell, of Martinsville.
Local and remote survivors include her sisters-in-law, Ardith Westie, of Traverse City, and Margaret Westie, of Glen Arbor and Naples, Fla.; nieces, Katharine Westie, of Coral Gables, Fla., and Glen Arbor, Anne Wiesen, of Glen Arbor, Judith Weaver, of Traverse City, Susan Westie Hilton, of Empire and Traverse City, Elizabeth Westie Brattin, of Worcester, Mass., and Bonnie MacDonald, of Phoenix and Empire; and nephews, Kurt Westie, of Empire, John Westie, of Jericho, Vt., and Daniel MacDonald, of Phoenix.
She was preceded in death by her parents, Hjalmar and Anna; her ex-husband, George Wetterholt; her son, Stuart Wetterholt; and her two brothers, Charles M. Westie, Ph.D., and Frank R. Westie, Ph.D.
A celebration of her life was held on July 17 at Empire Town Hall.
