At Long Last . . . Winona Lake

We made it to Winona last night in time to get a boat ride and watch the sunset. The sun doesn’t set here until after 9:00 so we were able to unpack, eat dinner, and get out on the lake.

As many of you know, I was born here and spent every summer of my childhood at Winona Lake, Indiana. Our lake house has been in the family since 1937. My Dad was seven or eight (he’s not quite sure) when he moved here and he has spent every summer here since. I was born here in 1958 and have done the same except for that pesky little summer where Brad and I got married. Brad knew that part of his wedding vows included an annual trip to “The Lake” and he hasn’t broken that promise.

Winona is the place where we are at our happiest. I love being on the water and walking along the streets of the Village. Brad always has a big smile when he is driving our boat along the shore. At Winona, time has a way of standing still. Things have definitely changed along the years. Generations have come and many have sadly gone, but there is a sameness and a peacefulness that remains. As we have sheltered in place in Danville, Brad and I would frequently talk about how wonderful it would be to be on the lake and just isolate ourselves at Winona. More importantly, we needed to see my Dad who turned 91 this summer. My Dad and I have always been close…we get each other and enjoy spending time together. When we were both much younger, we spent a lot of time on the lake together. My Dad would get up before work and I would get up early before whatever I was doing and we would play tennis together in the mornings. Tennis has always been my favorite sport because of him even though he beat me practically every time — even when he was well into his 70’s.

My Dad and I on the pontoon boat in the summer of 2020

That’s the background to how the RV idea began. Brad made it happen and now here we are with the two dogs and my Dad (Incidentally, my Dad hates dogs. More on that in another blog). COVID-19 is a reality here in Winona because no place is truly untouched by the virus.  Indiana has a mandatory mask policy because their cases are going up. The per capita rate here is actually almost identical to Danville’s.  

Our kids and grandkids are not here with us.  My brother and sister and their families couldn’t make it.  Usually, we are cooking for 15-18 people. This summer there will just be the three or four of us for dinners and patio wine tasting.  It is not safe enough for the rest of our family to fly here or even to drive.  The virus and our government’s policies have robbed all of us from family traditions and chances for multiple generations to get together to laugh and play and dine and play games and “assume the position” in lawn chairs at the end of the evening.  Sadly, there will be no reunion this year.

We are going to treasure every single day we are here this summer because one thing we have learned during this pandemic is to never take anything for granted.  Not days at the lake, not family reunions, and not times with your 91-year-old-Dad.

Post Script: While digging through old pictures this morning, I found a special family service that my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Russ did at the lake in 1992. Their description of Winona is as perfect as it gets. (Paraphrased and updated slightly by me)

“This place–Winona Lake–this cottage–are symbols to us of a whole host of meanings and feelings connected with family. There are other places, other houses, other memories no less important. But these are the ones that all of us share. The “Stauffer” cottage is a reminder of all our families and their experiences. It represents to three (now four) generations of descendants of Irene and Bob Stauffer. It represents crazy times and creative times, happy days and miserable ones, a family’s strength and its failings, its original circle and its growing circle, its joy and its grieving. It is a symbol of a wider community–a group of people whose lives got entwined on the shore in lasting ways.