0928

September 28, 2022

 In bed at 10, up at 5:15, 3 plss, 2 glasses of red.  Woke up thinking of St. Finbar's Cemetery tucked away from the world between Saukville and Newburgh, thinking of Hattie Clayton's family, and unreturned calls from Lovie.  Hattie, Tiffany, Chrystal, Brian, Kelly, Lovie, and yet another.  Many fathers, Tiffany following course when I moved away.  42 degrees outside, high of 55 expected.  (Photo of another small, lonely, rural cemetery on CTH "O" north of Saukville, not as pretty as St. Finbar's.)

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Hurricane Ian,  a 'rough beast slouching towards, Florida's south-central West Coast, Sarasota County and Charlotte County, North Port where Dad, Grandma and Grandpa Clausen, Aunt Monica and cousin Doug lived so many years.  Grandma & Grandpa moved there in the 1960s, one bedroom, built of concrete cinder blocks, no air conditioning, no car, a bicycle and a tricycle to get to and from the small grocery store on Highway 41, long before I 75 reached Florida.  Dad moved there in the 70s after Mom died, fleeing, fleeing Kitty and Jim, fleeing Anne and me, fleeing everything and everyone who reminded him of Mary, fleeing Life.  Like probably many Floridians, a fugitive.  In his case, trying to go back to his youth, to life before Pearl Harbor,  before the Marines and Iwo Jima, before James Hartmann and notoriety, before being crushed.  Many hurricanes, many gales, many tropical storms, but a lair for the permanently wounded. "And great multitudes came unto him, having with them those that were lame, blind, dumb, maimed, and many others, and cast them down at Jesus' feet; and he healed them:"  Mt 15:30.  There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole, to heal the sin-sick soul.

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    At 7 a.m., it's looking like Ian will make landfall right over Punta Gorda, Port Charlotte, Northport area.  NBC News predicting a storm surge of 8 to 12 feet (OMG, Venice, Englewood), 6 to 10 feet at Marco Island where Ed Felsenthal's waterfront mansion is.  Catastrophe on its way, reminding me of the FEMA trailer parks outside of Punta Gorda, Port Charlotte (cousin Jim's house) years after Hurricane Charlie in 2004.

Old friend from college days, Camilla Wakeman Landolt, one of the Notch House gang, and roommate of Anne Smith for 4 years, has a daughter Gretchen Landolt, who lives in Naples.  Cam spends a portion of each winter with Gretchen.

I texted my cousin Christine Klaer, hoping cousin Doug, who lives in his deceased mother's house in Northport, was in a safe place and that cousin Jim's house in Port Charlotte is well protected.  She texted back that Jim had sold the house in Port Charlotte and that Doug was 'riding it out.'

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Following the news reports on Hurricane Ian reminds me of very familiar I am with Florida's central Gulf Coast, from Tampa down to Fort Myers, and even Naples/Marco Island.  Trying to remember when it was that my grandparents moved down to North Port Charlotte, as it was known then.  The city was incorporated by its developers in 1959 and had a population of 178 in 1960, which is about when I think they made the move from Chicago.  Grandpa Dewey turned 62 in 1960 and would have been eligible for Social Security on top of whatever small pension he may have received from Western Electric, his long time employer.  The city's name was shortened to North Port some time later and its population in 2020 was 74,793.  I visited family there for more than 50 years, getting to know North Port, Port Charlotte, Venice, Punta Gorda, and Boca Grande, like the back of my hand.  Many flights into and out of Tampa, Sarasota, and Fort Myers airports.  Many, many memories over all those years.  One memory stands out, kind of prescient (wrong word).  On one of my quarterly visits to my Dad, I came in from the outside of his house where I had been washing windows and asked him if he would like to go for a ride to Boca Grande.  He looked perplexed and said he didn't understand what I was saying.  I was standing only a few feet from him in his tiny kitchenette, and he still was confused when I repeated the words.  I realized he was having a TIA right in front of me, one of several that he had over the years.  It went away quickly and it was as if it had never happened.  We did go out to Boca Grade to the beachside bar and grill for a hamburger and n/a beer.  Today Boca Grande is underwater, with a lot of billionaire homeowners disappointed but with the wherewithal to rebuild with or without taxpayer (debt) financed emergency assistance, for which they will almost undoubtedly qualify, whether needed or not.

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Geri's niece Julie Aquavia, is bringing us lunch from Panera's today.  Julie was one of my students at the Law School many years ago, in private practice in Waukesha now, 3 children: Quinn, Avery, and Kiefer.  She's the oldest daughter of Geri's deceased brother Robert and wife Wilma: Julie, Sue, Missy, and Jennifer, all close to their Aunt Geri.  Julie stayed and visited, mostly with Geri of course, the entire afternoon.  Quite a treat, wonderful seeing her.

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