A glimpse at the Richard & Katie Werner Farm

A glimpse at the Richard & Katie Werner Farm

This continues a series adapted from the book, “A Port Oneida Collection,” Volume 1 of the twopart set, “Oral History, Photographs, and Maps from the Sleeping Bear Region,” produced by Tom Van Zoeren in partnership with Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear. Here we continue with a look at the Richard & Katie Werner Farm, along M-22 just south of the bend by Thoreson Road: Katie (Poertner)(Werner) Holland’s grandson Gene Warner discussed this photo: “I’m not sure what the context of this picture might have been. From her apparent age, I’d guess it was taken in the early 1930s. That was ten years before my time, but otherwise I never saw any spinning wheels around, or heard of anyone doing that. I expect had they been around then (early 1940s) I would have been keen on fiddling around with them.” Gene, who was the son of a Coast Guardsman from South Manitou Island, continued, “One of my favorite ‘toys’ was the old Singer treadle sewing machines. I’d sit on the treadle, rocking back and forth, pretending it was a boat, with me at the helm.

“On the other hand, my other grandmas, Great-grandma Haas, Grandma Warner, and Grandma Kelderhouse all knitted, crocheted, tatted, quilted and made rag rugs. That was always a pastime, but produced useful things, items that were prized gifts, and so on. Grandma Warner crocheted a beautifully ornate white bedspread that she intended would be a wedding gift for me, but unfortunately I remained a bachelor until I was thirty-seven, and after all those years of storage, it had yellowed. My mother tried to wash it, and turned it into a babybedspread.

“Since the wheel in the picture looks like it might be new; since the picture is being taken out-of-doors in what appears to be rather inclement weather; and since she seems to be dressed for an occasion of some sort, my guess is that the wheel might have been a birthday present.

“My wife Patty is into doing stuff the hard way, especially now with the industrial economy melting down. She thinks we’ll all be living subsistencestyle, like the old days in Port Oneida. She wants to move up there or somewhere else, build an old-fashioned energy-efficient ‘straw house’, raise chickens and goats, and all that. I tell her that will be a great idea, just as soon as enough others also do it (bartering community), doctors again begin accepting chickens as payment for their services, and so on. Maybe Grandma Holland had a similar streak in her. I can almost hear her gripe, ‘Boughten yarn ain’t no damned good. If you want any good yarn, ya have to spin it yerself !’” The farm was eventually taken over by the Hollands’ grandson, Franklin Basch, who leased his fields to neighboring farmers while working as a deputy sheriff, helping develop the Glen Arbor Fire and Rescue Department, and serving for many years as Fire Chief. Mr. Basch willingly sold the place to the National Park Service in 1977, with a provision allowing him to retain use of it 25 years. He always welcomed visits by passing park rangers, and proudly displayed a letter he had received from the park superintendent acknowledging his role in local fire and rescue services.