The cold spray from the lake brushed my hand. I shivered as the late March wind whistled right through my warmest jacket defying the sunshine. “We’ll be behind the lee of the island in a minute and you’ll see how much warmer it will be,” Dwayne promised as he gunned the 10 horse motor powering the little fishing boat with its six passengers. We had come with our Chicago neighbors, Clark and Linda, to see the cottage they were hoping to buy from Dwayne and His wife, Carol. “After all”, Clark had pointed out, “It will give you an idea of what Michigan Cottages are going for and give you a head start on your spring hunt.”
The previous summer we had spent every other weekend looking at lakefront communities from Lake Geneva, Wisconsin to New Buffalo, Michigan. By Labor Day we had settled on Harbert, Michigan. It was a wooded area right on Lake Michigan and met our ultimate criteria: only 90 minutes from Chicago. There was only one nagging concern. The Chicago Tribune had begun a series of articles on the growing pollution in Lake Michigan. In fact, our neighbor Linda had written several of the articles.
“There, that’s better isn’t it” said Dwayne as we rounded a corner of land and the wind stopped abruptly. As we passed a little cove, I studied the Island as it came closer. There appeared to be a wooded area in the center and little white cottages hugged the edge of the hill above the shore. As we approached land I could see clear to the bottom-to the tiny fish scrambling out of our way and the sea shells seemingly anchored to the bottom. With a little scrambling by Clark and Dwayne we did get safely ashore. At the time, Don and I did not really think about the fact that normally there should have been a pier, especially when the “sea wall” was made of rocks.
Dwayne proudly showed us through the cottage. The “front door” opened into a small kitchen with a 30-year old refrigerator that they had painted a cheerful orange and yellow. Book shelves separated it from the adjacent living room. Without the shelves, the space would have been one narrow rectangle. One wall of the living room was a large picture window with a porch that had been enclosed for extra living space. Even so, with only one outside window, the living room area was rather dark. There were two bedrooms, a sink in the hall, and a tiny bath with an orange and yellow concrete shower.
While Dwayne explained to Clark and Don the intricacies of the outside pump, I marveled at the view from the front of the cottage. It was situated at the top of the hill with 90 feet of lake frontage and a 90 degree view . The lake glistened and sparkled below. “Dwayne said that the lake is spring-fed and that’s the reason why it’s so clear.”Linda said coming up behind me. “They won’t have any pollution worries here”, I concurred.
“Come see the rest of the Island” Dwayne called as he charged up the dirt road. It seemed to be a pretty uncomplicated arrangement. There were cottages on the lake side and the beautiful green center. The road circled the island with a short side spur that ran down to a ferry landing. “Is that a path through the woods?” I asked.
“Come on in.” Dwayne said “In another week only the kids will be able to get in here. And believe me they will! This is their after supper playhouse all summer long. See these tree vines? They’ll be swinging on them soon.” Don and I looked at each other. A place where you could just let your kids out to play and not worry? We city lovers were dumbfounded!
“Won’t this center oasis be plated and someday crowd the Island with twice as many cottages?” Don asked. “Not on your life!” Dwayne shot back hotly. “A few years ago a developer wanted to build a summer Amusement Park here but we stopped him cold.” “How?” I asked, intrigued by his passion. “The Islanders got together, raised the money, outbid him, hired an attorney, and set it up so the center is owned in joint tenancy. The shares are sold with the cottage. Our Island can never be ruined!” he concluded.
The Island was completely empty except for the six of us. We were hushed as we completed the mile long circuit. We drank in the ribbons of sun lacing the greenery, the fresh wood smells, the changing views of the bright, bright blue lake, the silence. Then, as we approached the cottage from the opposite direction, we saw them nestled against the back of the shed. They were the first tulips of spring, struggling to break out of their green straightjackets, with a breathtaking hint of the orange beauty to come. I looked toward Don but didn’t catch his eye. Did he have the same thought I did? Was he also wondering if this was the perfect place for us to break free from our precisely calibrated calendars and careers?
“I’ve been thinking about that clear blue lake all week” I said the following Saturday morning. I’d been in New York on a buying trip all week so Don and I were just now discussing the previous Sunday’s trip to Diamond Lake.
“So have I” he replied. “That island could offer our children some of the freedom we had growing up. Remember how kids used to play outside unsupervised until it started to get dark and the street lights came on?”
“And The Island doesn’t even have the street lights!” I enthused. “They’d have to make up their own play just as we did.”
“There are some drawbacks of course.” Don hesitated. “It would be a two hour commute from Chicago. Also, that cottage was a little dreary.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I reassured him. “I think I could brighten it up” I said as a vision of two exterior walls completely replaced by glass flashed through my mind.”
“Let’s be realistic, honey” Don said firmly. “That cottage will soon belong to Clark and Linda”.
Just then the phone rang. It was Clark. He just wanted to let us know He had turned down (for the third time) a promotion to Proctor and Gamble Headquarters in Cincinnati. Consequently, he was leaving the company and starting his own business. He and Linda were NOT buying the cottage. However, he had Dwayne’s phone number for us if we were interested in becoming Island dwellers.
And so began our life on Diamond Isle in the mid seventies. We would go on to learn about Island Time, Ferry Schedules, Island Drink and Island Law. Mostly, we learned about the independent, feisty Island People who certainly never believed they were living in the state of Michigan!
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