Next Chapter: 3 More States and 1 Province

Rob seems to find new friends everywhere!

This Bald Eagle he found at Turkey Run State Park.

On Saturday, September 17, 2022, we left Osceola, Nebraska and headed east to Omaha to see if we could find the grave of my maternal Grandfather.

My maternal grandfather.

Standing at the grave

Makes me long to know much more

I missed grandfather

My mother's father, Emil Pearson, the son of Swedish immigrants, died in the great flu epidemic of 1918 when my mother was just a bit over 10 months old, and her brother Karel about 3 years old. My mother had no conscious memories of her father, and the only story I remember her telling about him was that the family had gone some where and were returning home on a street car in Omaha, Nebraska where my mother and her parents lived and were all born. It was November 11, 1918, Armistice Day. My grandfather was carrying my mother as they got off the street car, but he didn't feel well and he handed her to my grandmother. I don't know the chronology of events that followed, but I do know he went to the doctor, possibly the hospital, but he died several days later. My grandmother lived with her two children for a couple of years in the home of her mother-in-law. But not wanting her mother-in-law or her own parents to raise her children she moved to San Francisco where one of her sisters had previously moved and established a new life there, on her own, beginning with living above a store that she managed. Oh, I wish I'd asked more questions when my grandmother and mother were still alive, paid more attention to the things I did hear. Standing at Grandfather Emil's grave made me want to know so much more than I do.

I had been to Omaha once before with our daughter Ruth on that 25 year ago road trip to see a lake bigger than Lake Tahoe. On that trip we found the Bohemian Cemetery and the graves of my maternal grandmother's parents, but this time I wanted to see if I could find the grave of my maternal grandfather. It turned out to be quite easy. I had the name of the church where he and my grandmother had been married in 1914 and where I thought his funeral may have been held. It is a large Lutheran church and when I called their office they easily found Emil Pearson in their records and the name of the cemetery where he had been buried. We stopped in the cemetery office and they were able to provide a map and directions to where the grave was, and we walked right there. What had seemed like a rather mundane thing to do, was a surprisingly profound and emotional experience. The area where Grandfather Emil's parents were born in southern Sweden is the area Sheila and I hiked in this spring. Emil's own father died when he was a young boy, but his mother lived to be 96. She died when I was 12, but I never met her and didn't hear that much about her. When I was a child travel, and even phone calls, were much more difficult than they are today. My mother did visit Omaha sometime during her childhood, but I didn't pay enough attention to those stories to remember them now.

Iowa is of course just across the Missouri River from Omaha.

Lake of Three Fires

Our campsite at Lake of Three Fires State Park in southeast Iowa - a nice campground with a friendly camp host, as really all we have encountered have been.

The Decatur County Courthouse in Leon, Iowa.

A “Freedom” Rock on the courthouse grounds commemorating veterans.

On the side of a building in Pulaski, Iowa where we stopped to eat our lunch. I kept wondering what the person or persons putting up this sign actually believe.

Crossing the Mississippi River from Iowa into Illinois.

Another beautiful campsite.

At Lake Storey in Galesburg, Illinois.

A beautiful, large Burr Oak Tree at Lake Storey.

We only spent one night each in Iowa and Illinois, but we enjoyed the time we spent in each state, in nice campgrounds, encounters with friendly people, and driving through lots of farmland and beautiful green countryside.

We would spend more time here - definitely fell in love with the green, wooded and varied landscape that I think surprised both Rob and me.

Our “campsite” near Rockville, Indiana.

In the driveway of friends Mark and Kathi.

We met Mark over 9 years ago on our first trip to Mexico with our church when we built a house for a family in one week with AMOR ministries. Mark was there for several weeks as a volunteer. When he heard about the other mission trips our church participated in to rehabilitate or build new homes in the U.S. following disasters he said he knew he and his wife Kathi would like to join us sometime in the future. Mark and Kathi came out from Indiana for at least 3 mission projects in the west - one following a flood in Colorado and two following fires in California. They told us that if we were ever in Indiana we should come visit, so we did. Their remodeled old farmhouse and barn were beautiful and their hospitality was wonderful- so good to visit with these friends in their home.

The sun rising over the cornfields next to Mark and Kathi’s place.

An Indiana mushroom on my morning walk.

A little, tilted cabin in the woods down the road from their house.

I forgot to ask if they knew the story behind it.

A squirrel on my morning walk down the road.

I think we’ve seen squirrels in every state, but they vary in color and size.

A sign that caught my attention on a driveway.

Yard art.

Part of the beautiful Indiana woods near Kathi and Mark’s.

After saying goodbye to our friends we headed to Turkey Run State Park. I first heard about Turkey Run from a visiting hiker at Samuel P Taylor State Park last spring. When I heard the hiker was from Indiana I told him we were planning to travel there this fall and asked him where he thought we should visit and he told me about Turkey Run. We were very impressed with this beautiful and unusual place.

A trail at Turkey Run going right down the creek “run.”

More of the unusual formations.

More still.

Lots of beautiful trails.

Rob on the trail/creek.

Beautiful sky at Turkey Run State Park.

A suspension bridge that definitely swayed when we walked on it.

Sugar River under the bridge.

More beautiful trail.

Another Indiana mushroom.

In memory of Richard Lieber

“A Builder of State Parks”

In front of a little log church in the woods.

The building was locked, but looking in the windows there was evidence that services must be held there at least occasionally.

An inviting bench in the woods.

An unusual looking mushroom.

More beautiful rock formations.

One of many pretty flowers blooming in September.

More beautiful rock formation.

And still more.

After leaving Turkey Run State Park on Wednesday, September 21, we headed north to one of our newest national parks, Indiana Dunes National Park on the southern tip of Lake Michigan, only an hour from Chicago. We were hoping to get a last minute reservation at the National Park Campground, but there were none to be had. Indiana Dunes National Park surrounds Indiana Dunes State Park, and there were several sites to choose from in the state park - yeah! And there were great trails to explore there. I managed to hike several miles on Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning.

Heading out to explore the Indiana Dunes.

The trail quickly turned to deep sand, and steep.

Both conditions that Rob doesn't like at all!

But he made it to the top of the "Blow Out."

This was Rob's turn around point where he headed back to the campground and a little free library he had spotted near the entrance to the campground, while I continued on the trail around the blowout and to other parts of the park. We are both avid readers, but Rob reads a lot faster than me and keeping him supplied with books is a challenge when we're not near one of the three counties where we have library cards in California. He managed to find two books at the little free library at Indiana Dunes and later found a bunch at a Salvation Army thrift store and some at a KOA campground store.

The other side of the "Blow Out."

A Blow Out is where the grass that anchors the sand gets uprooted, usually by human activity and then the strong winds off the lake "blow out" and back the sand to create an indentation in the dunes.

The Chicago skyline is visible in the distance.

The pretty trail through the woods.

Heading up a long stairway to Mt. Tom, the highest dune in the park.

The beach at Lake Michigan.

A very blustery early morning view of the lake and beach from the bird observation tower at Indiana Dunes State Park.

From the dunes we traveled east stopping at the RV and MH (Manufactured Home) Museum and Hall of Fame in Elkhart, Indiana where we toured the history of homes on wheels - an interesting stop on our journey.

The entrance to the museum.

Some how this is the only picture of a home on wheels that I took.

From Indiana we went east and north into Michigan in preparation for crossing into Canada at Detroit so that we could visit my cousin Mike and his wife Diana. They live in Amherstburg, Ontario on Bob-Lo Island. Mike, 3 months older than me, is the son of my mother's brother Karel. Mike grew up in southern California and I of course grew up in northern California. Mike and his older brother Woody and their parents would come to Grass Valley each summer and sometimes at Christmas to visit our mutual grandmother and my family. As is so often the case when living so far apart as adults we have not spent much time together. The last time I saw Mike and Diana was at my mother's memorial service in 2011. Mike and Diana moved to Bob-Lo Island about 7 years ago when he retired from his life long career in television production that began with 21 years working for NBC where his father had been a pioneering executive until his death at age 49. They are now living not far from where Diana grew up and where her family lives nearby. It was truly wonderful to spend time with them, to catch up on memories and to make new ones. We can't wait 11 more years to see each other again.

A black squirrel at the Detroit/Ann Arbor KOA where we camped on Thursday, September 22.

The campground was on this pretty little lake that I walked around Friday morning.

Two swans on the lake in the early morning.

Crossing the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit on our way to Canada.

We would cross this bridge twice before finally being welcomed into Canada.

It's a long story I won't go into about why there were two crossings, but warning - DON'T get in the Nexus line unless you have a Nexus clearing - we goofed.

To get to Bob-Lo Island requires a ferry ride - for us and LesThora.

Yes, this little boat was big enough for our 26 foot motor home.

On the ferry, looking out the passenger window.

Mike is still taller than me!

There was one year when he visited when we were pre-teens that I was actually taller.

A picture of a picture Mike showed us.

From left to right: Mike, Elizabeth, me.

Mike and I must have been about 4 and Elizabeth 2, because our younger sister Theresa is not in the picture - not born yet. Not sure where Mike's older brother Woody was.