At last I have found some photos of Brookwood! I knew they were around here somewhere! In this first 1959 photo you find a pj clad chubby little Dawn seated at the kitchen booth enjoying some green grapes. On the wall above her is a photo identification guide to mushrooms. That was there as long as I can remember!
The second photo shows a 1959 version of the kitchen at Brookwood. Not much changed there. There was still the old refrigerator and old white kitchen cabinet, the kitchen sink setup was the same (although in this photo you can’t see the red pump from which water was drawn). There was a yellow painted Hoosier cabinet next to the stove. The little white cabinet that you see next to the range had an open front. We stored kindling in there which we fed to the burners.
There is also a photo of the view as seen from just outside the front door of the cabin looking out toward the creek. You can see the roof of the generator house in the foreground on the right, and then the wooden surface of the bridge where Dad had built his water wheel. There is a wide expanse, almost pond-like of the creek surrounded by split rail fence and you can almost see the bridge over the creek that leads to Wash-Out Trail in the back of the photo. The hilly dune that contained the Smoke Jump and the Fox Hole would be to the left of that bridge as you are facing it.
My favorite photo of the bunch is probably that of the cozy living room/dining room combination. I always loved the colorful Indian rugs that covered the floors and the day bed along the right wall. You can see the chintz covered couch of which I was so fond (although positioned differently so that the photo could show off more of the room). The two stools were made by family members. The one with the sloped seat is called a saddle stool and was to mimic the saddle used by camel riders. It was a Victorian piece. It the left corner you can see two lamps fashioned from natural wood, also family made pieces. I think Dad made the small one in the corner. In the right corner next to the cheval mirror you can somewhat see the beloved oak wall phone hanging against the exterior bedroom wall. Of course you can also see part of the large oak dining table used daily when we visited. Family castoffs and hand me downs fill the space making it feel warm, cozy and well loved. Of course all these items are antiques. Most went missing when the cabin was burgled by snowmobiliers one winter. The piece my father mourned the most I think was the scale model of the logging “big wheel” that sat atop the fireplace mantel.
I loved that room so much. I wish it could be transported through time and space to my home today, for then I would truly feel at home once more!
Dave Norris said,
January 24, 2009 at 12:48 am
If that was you in 1959 then you’re beginning to date yourself. I loved the picture of the back yard. Is that McCarty Creek? The living room is also cool. Are there more pictures to come? At what age was the last time you went there?
dawnmk said,
January 24, 2009 at 5:02 am
Ha! Busted! Yep, thats chubby lil me.
That is indeed McCarty Creek- a very quiet portion. I caught my first fish in that area of the creek (or my pole was loaded by Uncle Carl and / or Dad). It is also the area we would watch mink playing when we rose in the early morning and stood out on the sleeping porch. The creek is fairly slow and pondlike in that section thanks to a build up of sand as it comes upstream. They used to dredge it every now and again to deepen it back to where it belonged and to remove quick sand. The government also came in once a year to test the water- was VERY pure thanks to all that sand filtration!
I hope to find more pictures as I go through things. I knew I had seen these somewhere. Somewhere there is at least one photo of the exterior. And I am sure that there must be photos from when I was in High School as well. The last time we travelled to Brookwood as a family is hard for me to say. I think it was in high school. Yet I recall going up to Michigan in my Dad’s RV with the family and with my husband in tow. We may have visited my aunt and uncle there at the time rather than staying there ourselves. It seem s that in my memory I have always been there, hope that doesn’t sound odd.
The last time I was at Brookwood was for a few fleeting minutes in the 1990s. I stood outside the split rail fence, not entering the lawn area of the cabin itself, not wanting to trespass that much onto what was no longer mine to claim. My Uncle Carl had passed away. We lost my Aunt Martha (Dad’s sister), my Dad, my Uncle Carl and my cousin Pam in a span of less than 10 years. Somehow that was the final fracture in that part of our family tree. My husband and I stopped in on our way home from the funeral in Midland. I pretty much knew it would be the last time I ever would have a chance to see the place. It was no longer ours, but had moved on to my cousin Glen Erickson. I just wanted to see it one more time.
They say that when we grow up it is time to put away childish things. I will never be able to- nor even want to – put away my childhood (some would say childish) memories of Brookwood, family, closeness, comfort, peace and happiness. And of the wonder years I was able to spend there with the very important man in my life, my Dad.
Ed Hawks said,
January 28, 2009 at 5:56 pm
Dawn, Your cabin was robbed by bad people who’s mode of transportation was a snowmobile. I and hundreds of thousands of people world wide refer to themselves as snowmobilers and would not consider doing such a terrible thing to ones property.
http://www.msasnow.org/
The pictures and story is great. Is that McCarthney Creek? Thanks, Ed
dawnmk said,
January 28, 2009 at 8:28 pm
Ed-
Yes the picture and the story refer to Brookwood and to McCarthy (apparently also McCarthy?) Creek. We were brought up refering to it as McCarty…….
I know that most of the snowmobilers out there are responsible people who are enjoying the out of doors from their motorized rails……as long as they stick to authorized trails and don’t venture onto private property uninvited I don’t have a problem with that. I appreciate that you are one of the many “good guys” out there.
It is unfortunate that when private property is not guarded during the winter the bad eggs seem to find their way in to vandalize, run their machines where they damage property and nature and steal.
I know that as a snowmobiler you probably deal with fighting that reputation for yourself and other enthusiasts all the time and I understand how frustrating and irritating that must be to you.
Dawn
Sylvia Mohr Bartlett said,
March 20, 2009 at 6:05 pm
Hi, Dawn ~
Actually, I am pretty sure Ed is correct, at least partially. If the name evolved over the years, I would not be surprised, but I am almost sure that Granpa (not Dad, mind) always referred to the creek as McCarthney Creek…not McCarthy – although I do also remember McCarty, so there you go. Maybe at some point we mislaid the extra letters?
Do you remember the series of Biographies – I think they had green covers? They were in the bookshelves behind the door to the kitchen and by the double doors to the back porch/stairs to the lower level ? I loved those biographies – especially of Anne Bolynne and the young Queen Victoria. I used to read those books for hours on the bed on the back porch – or in the ‘formal’ dining area at the big old table.
dawnmk said,
March 22, 2009 at 2:34 am
I am not disputing Ed’s correct name of McCarthy Creek, it is on the maps. We knew it, and so did Uncle Otto’s kids as McCarty. I assume you meant Grandfather said McCarthey, not McCarthney…..I obviously don’t remember a lot of particular words or names Grandfather used…..more along the lines of tone of voice, attitude, personality. I was not very old when he passed.