dona's 365

Scruffy, old, and perpetually tipsy when I encountered him in Chetek, he was the black sheep of the of the Leinenkugel family . He’d buy anyone a beer as long as it was a Leinie . It was said that he was being paid good money to stay away from the brewery .

Barb yelled at other people’s kids, including me. Once she took me to feed carrots to the horse across the street. It bit me and I was afraid she’d yell at me. So I yelled, “I hate you!” to her first. Her daughter told my parents about that. They yelled.

Early on I really liked Neil. He was friendly and could talk to teenagers. Soon, though, I saw his other side and the last time I saw him he was in his underwear screaming profanities at my brother to stop shooting off firecrackers at our family house by the lake.

Toothless, ancient and heavily accented, Swede was a regular visitor at my grandparents’ home in Chetek, Wisconsin. He trapped, fished and foraged. He knew poisonous mushrooms from the safe variety, and taught my grandma the difference. It was said he was a recluse, but he seemed too friendly for that.

“Here we go into the cold blue yonder!” she’d sing cheerfully as she drove us to early morning swimming lessons at Wing Park Pool. Summer mornings in northern Illinois could be quite chilly and Colleen’s mom’s cheeriness felt a lot like malicious teasing to we three blue-lipped, chattering-teethed, prepubescent girls.

Before there was affordable housing on the corner of Highland and McLean, part of the land was farmed by a man called Hawkeye. Whenever we’d see him working among the rows of vegetables we’d holler, in singsong voices, “Hi Hawkeye”. He would then stop working and wave. It never failed.

He wore faded blue overalls and carried a large Santa-like sack. Nearly every day he would walk past our house and if I were lucky enough to be outside, he would stop, reach into his sack and hand me a stick of JuicyFruit. I wonder if I ever thanked him.

My parents’ friend, Bob, ran a gas station but dressed more like he ran a casino. Bob’s wife wanted a round bed and when I asked if she’d gotten one my mom quickly shushed me. Discussions of beds were taboo after his wife found him in one with another woman.

Large, soft and kind, Millie owned the Indianhead tavern in Chetek Wisconsin. On Tuesdays Grandma and I helped Millie prepare the stuffing for the chicken dinner served at her restaurant in the back of the bar. Whenever I tear up pieces of bread for stuffing I always think of Millie.