Thanks to Phil Bowser, I have been able to go back in time with my memories and see the two homes that meant the most to me while growing up in Michigan. I must also give a great big ‘thank you’ to the present owners for allowing Phil to take the photos below. I cried like a baby when I started to look through them, they hold so many precious memories, so many good times while going through the early daze of Polio.

In 1954  through maybe late 1958 - 1959 we lived in Milford, at 2925 White Lake Road, (Highland, Michigan) on the corner of Rose Center. A farm of about 200 acres that we city folks had no idea what farming was all about. The idea behind the move from Detroit was to give me some wide open spaces, to learn to walk, swim, and enjoy being a kid. The house was on at least an acre or more of land that my step father and I had to keep mowed. In front of the house were two giant Pines, and I believe the home was called ‘Twin Pines’, or at least the house with Twin Pines. My first really big crush was Jean Smith, I thought of her for years after we moved, and went back to try and find her many times, she was very very special. One of the prettiest girls I ever knew and the sweetest and nicest of all....I think of her often.

It had two very large barns that were probably as old as the house although one of them looked like it had been built later just to store farm equipment. The barns themselves were the most fun to play games in, jump from the hay loft into a pile of hay that was now housing many mice, and they would scamper for their lives when we took a ‘flying leap’ off the loft. The barn smelled just like cows, horses, and chickens since they were all housed in the barn at some time. We made the largest part of the barn into a basketball court, a rickety ole basketball court with only one hoop of course.

Climbing around the barn although it never came to mind that it was dangerous was the most adventuresome. I could climb down under the barn to where the cows and horses were kept, very spooky. Climb up to the top of the hay loft and even climb a good 30 feet up to the little barn door where they hauled in the hay. We would hang onto the hook and lower ourselves back down to the creaky floor.

The local gypsies would come by several times a year and ask to use the barn to shoot pigeons, quail, and other birds they could scare out of the brush. I often walked through weeds that were over my head never thinking about snakes and other things, just annoyed with the prickers we would pick up in our socks.

We mowed down the very corner of the property and made it into a baseball field, that only happened a couple of times since it took days to mow it down once it got over grown with weeds.

The house was huge to me, we entered from the side of the house into a small porch area that we used for the kitchen table for breakfast. The Kitchen was to the left, and the living room to the right, a long and large living area. Off the living room was a small hallway leading to my bedroom, another room off that room that my brother used as his artist studio. Across from my room was my parents bed room which was at the front of the house and off the main cobble stone porch. The bathroom was at the beginning of the hall way.
Out the backdoor of the kitchen was a room that had a concrete tub that the cans of milk were stored in, we used it for the washer and dryer.

In the middle of the hallway was a door that lead up to the attic, I played on those steps most often with my soldiers. At the top of the stairs was a little room to the left, which was my ‘fix it  shop’ and another room to the right which was a bed room but used for storage. It had those roof angled ceilings but was where my brother slept some times. Our bedroom down stairs was another very large room, with two beds, and plenty of space for an electric train set.

In my ‘fix it shop’ I had my first Dremel jig saw, and built and made my first wood projects. I also repaired radios, Out the window of that room I ran a long wire to the garage that I used for an antennae not realizing it could also attract lightning.

Out this window late at night I would try and shoot the mice or rats with my Daisy BB gun that would try to get back into the basement after they went through the garbage which we kept in the old garage

The basement looked like it was made with old Michigan railroad ties, although they were just long squared trees. Cobble stone walls in some places if not all, and a dirt floor, A couple of areas, sectioned off, and a spot I once thought was for storage of food for the winter. The basement scared me the most, so I didn’t travel down there much. I don’t remember if a furnace was put in but the house was so big it did get chilly in the winters and I always wore a coat inside the house.

I had a couple of leg operations while in this house and was left home alone most of the time, so it was my own personal castle which I thoroughly enjoyed. Once I healed from one operation before the next I would take my new English racer and travel the dirt roads. I had my first bad accident on the bike in front of the house , crashing at the bottom of a steep hill, where you could or had to get up a lot of speed to get up to the next hill. Another old Michigan Centennial house was at the top of that hill, and I think Sue Benedetti lived in that one, I had a crush on her until I saw Jean Smith. From there I would travel to Duck Lake Road and across to the other side of the lake, I think the road was just a one lane dirt road.

There was an old dance hall, bar that my parents often frequented having lemonade or what ever. I loved the nickel juke box. They rented boats at the dance hall/bar and I would fish off the dock while my parents had their drinks. I understand it is still there.

Describing the farm land would take a whole book but it just added to all my adventures chasing and catching bugs, butterflies, running my dog Colonel, and just hiking all through the property, finding, birds nests beehives, snake skins, and cow pies, old cow pies. Picking wild berries for pies my grand mother would bake when she came to visit. Wild asparagus, fruit in the abandoned orchards, flowers everywhere.

My neighbors, the Lodges, were my good friends at the time and we did everything together, Dick Lodge, the younger brother was my best friend, along with Larry Pacific. My secrete love as I mentioned was Jean Smith.

Again, thanks to Phil Bowser for the photos and to the owners of the
house who let him, take the photos...