| Health
Matters
Pause and reflect
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the Upper Peninsula in the winter.
Where else on Thanksgiving Day can I leave my home and fifteen
minutes later arrive at a ski hill or trail and then plan to do
the same thing again for an Easter egg hunt?
If you are someone who has been in school for the past nine-plus
months, it is finally here—summer vacation. If you are someone
in the workforce, it is finally here—time to take a vacation.
Although technically the summer season began weeks ago, in the
Upper Peninsula, our true summer weather just arrived. It is time
to enjoy the outdoors in ways different than our other seasons—time
to pause and reflect.
In the early 1980s, we enjoyed a Fourth of July parade in Marquette.
Sitting curbside on Third Street, we took in the festivities as
we baked in the sun and seventy-five-degree temperature.
Our next stop was a direct route to Lake Superior to take a cooling
dip. In the few minutes it took to reach the beach, the wind had
shifted to the north and begun to blow; the sky darkened. I began
to cool off instantly just being in the presence of the lake.
My debate on whether to take the plunge ended as quickly as the
warmth of the curbside perch passed. The snowflakes began to fly.
It was Marquette in July.
I have enjoyed telling that story to my downstate family who rarely
visits between December and April. “We’ll see you when
the ice melts,” they say. “Same to ya,” I say.
After several years of coming north during March, springtime snowstorms
and blizzards, my sisters have asked, “Can’t youjust
celebrate (my son) Ian’s birthday in July?” No matter
what time of year, my Dad begins every telephone conversation
with “Is it snowing up there?” or at least an inquiry
about the weather. It seems seeking an answer of sun and warmth
is an endless quest.
It’s the U.P. in July: time to come visit, time to pause
and reflect. The weather isn’t the travel factor now, rather
it is road construction—so travel from midnight to 8:00 a.m.
is recommended.
My friends Lynn and Lon Emerick are noted outdoor enthusiasts.
I think of them as Traditional Environmental Specialists. From
them, I have learned the differences between a hike in the woods,
a walk or saunter on the trails. I’ve also learned that conversation
is discouraged during these outdoor activities. That part was
difficult for me at first.
It was on one of these mild adventures I realized I was experiencing
my first real and intentional pause and reflect. Listen to what
is here; look for things you might otherwise miss and let yourself
become a part of nature, they had encouraged. Now, no matter how
long my trek, I always emerge refreshed from the inside out.
Taking time to pause and reflect is different than a vacation.
Have you ever heard someone say, “I’m just back and
I think I need a vacation from my vacation?” Taking time
to pause and reflect doesn’t mean you stop being active.
It means you change your focus. It means being aware of the moment
you are in and creating a moment you can savor. Imagine pushing
the pause button on the attention-grabbers of your daily life.
Pause the to-do list, the work worries, the household chores and
the many concerns still will be there. Remember to turn the volume
down, too.
Here is my own reflection of a recent twenty-four hour pause at
a youth camp, meeting and retreat site. It is a mixture of rustic
and modern facilities that is home to all who seek a place to
gather in a natural setting.
On Saturday before noon, Ian and I prepared to turn into the camp
drive. We did what we always do: turn off music, close books,
quiet conversation, take off the seat belts and put down the windows.
We pause and begin to take in the space, look for things other
eyes are not seeing and listen for sounds other ears are not hearing.
I focus on my side of the car and he focuses on his side.
As we park, we see that Ian’s dad already has arrived and
he is out lakeside. We will be welcoming members of our Cub Scout
den—around a dozen folks—within the hour for our end-of-the-Scout-year
camp-out. Ian’s dad is the den leader, and I am some type
of assistant/mom.
Ian is anxious to know which cabin we are staying in so he can
head off with his sleeping bag and stuff. I answer, “Cabin
1.”
People begin to arrive and the place comes alive. Voices, children
dashing about, questions of what can we do first and next are
flying around like the hatch of insects. I give the “ground
rules” of the space and then all are off to size up life
jackets and grab oars and fishing poles. The water, getting in
it and on it, is a magnet.
I then had a profound awareness: it is 10:03 p.m. and we had just
finished our last campfire song and the fire was to be extinguished.
Hadn’t we just collected that wood, begun with a lesson on
fire safety, how to build a fire and the uses of fire? Hadn’t
we just begun with a Native American chant/song of gratitude?
Hadn’t the guitar music just begun to give us calm and bring
out the voice in each of us?
Where had the ten hours of time gone? For me, it had absolutely
stood still. I felt at that moment the moment I was in. I had
been on pause and began to reflect.
It became memory before I knew it. Boating, fishing, maneuvering
and negotiating who would be oarsman and who would be captain,
and when would be “my turn” at anything and everything;
being the “firsts” to swim this season. The making and
tossing balls of coarse sand and colorful balloons skillfully
with funnels, and the art of tying a balloon knot; learning about
marksmanship and gun safety, shooting a BB gun at balloons tied
to the baseball backstop, the walks and foot races.
Community meals and fireside treats. I sit on the picnic table
across from Ian at dinner time. As he begins to stuff the end
of a hot dog and bun loaded with onions into his mouth, he says
to me and also to the whole world, “This has been a great
day.” Friend Gwen stops by and takes it all in and our
circle is briefly a bit bigger.
The darkness of the night surrounds us and we watch the bats swoop
for their nighttime feed. The few neighboring fishing boats leave
the lake and our campfire smoke hangs above the water like a blanket.
Flashlights dot the blackness; cabin doors clap shut.
The morning gathering offers root beer pancakes, scrambled eggs,
fruit, juice and hot coffee. We then line up for our walk to a
chapel for worship. One more trip to the lake as things are cleaned
up and packed away. I water our newly planted trees and shrubs
and look with pleasure and gratitude at the little green leaf
buds proudly declaring their new growth.
As we drive out, I feel not only my own smile, but the camp smiling
back. Our presence gave it rejuvenation and a greater purpose;
it fostered a connection between people and place.
Soon our tires would reach asphalt and seat belts would go back
on. We were going back to where each of us had come from. We would
not be the same because we had taken a pause.
Everything looks and feels different after a bit of time taken
to pause and reflect. The evidence is in your own mirror.
I think these thoughts have everything to do with health and that
is what matters.
—Leslie Bek
Summer ’67 was busy
for clean water
“A special meeting of the Marquette City Commission will
be held at 7:00 p.m. this evening in the city hall for the purpose
of discussing the sale of water to Marquette Township.”
Sound familiar? No, you didn’t just see this headline this
week; this was the topic of discussion back in March 1967. Good
drinking water and safe disposal of sewage are items we take for
granted or grumble about the cost. That we have great and safe
water in the U.P. is due, in a large part, to municipal water
supplies and effective home wells and septic systems. Nearly one
billion people in the world do not have safe water. Michigan still
truly is a water wonderland.
Forty-two years ago, 125 people attended a hearing on land a nd
water resources held in Negaunee’s Thimmes Memorial Hall.
The need for more adequate and safer water was told by several
representatives from the various municipalities. Negaunee and
Ishpeming’s water was deemed adequate by its leaders.
Rodney Hodge, Negaunee city manager, stated the city was concerned
about the future of its water supply, Teal Lake. The Hanna Mining
Company was “thinking” of draining the lake to mine
the large iron ore deposits under it. This would be a concern
for the people who are fortunate enough to live on Teal Lake,
including myself. It helps explain one possible reason why the
last houses built in the “Beverly Hills” addition near
Lakeview School were along the lake.
Another personal story about the water in Negaunee…We had
just moved in 1988, when my wife drew a tubful of water. It was
a mix of red and green. (Didn’t bother me since I’m
color blind.) She called the public works department to ask about
it. They laughed and said she must be new to Negaunee. Today,
Negaunee is part of the Negaunee-Ishpeming Water Authority (NIWA),
which uses well water, not surface water, which requires more
stringent treatment processes. No one jokes about getting a glass
of vegetables with their water in Negaunee anymore.
Ishpeming’s city manager, Frank Gerstenecker, said Ishpeming
was more concerned about quantity. Every summer, it had to restrict
water use during summer months. Ishpeming got its water from four
small lakes surrounded by iron mines. Wesley Larson, representing
Negaunee Township, stated the township was interested in beginning
a municipal supply. Arlene Hill deputy clerk from Forsyth Township,
indicated an interest in a water pollution solution caused by
a population increase at K.I. Sawyer.
Of course, Marquette Township had water quantity problems with
wells. A Mining Journal editorial of the time said it made perfect
sense for Marquette township and city to work cooperatively. The
city needed land, the township had a lot of land but no water.
The editorial concluded that the best solution was the exchange
of service for the land. Forty-two years later, it’s clear
that issue still festers.
The ’60s saw the advent of several federal and state laws
that preserved drinking water supplies. New state laws were developing
that mandated safe well constructions that wouldn’t pollute
groundwater. Laws also addressed the licensing of well drillers.
Negaunee’s Edwin Hakala was the first chairman of the statewide
Michigan Water Well Drillers advisory board, which worked as an
advisory board to the state health department. Hakala was a partner
in a private well and pump service company.
At an October 1966 meeting, Alan Budinger, chief sanitarian for
the newly formed Marquette County Health Department (prior to
1966, each city and town was responsible for its own health department),
stated Michigan landfill sites after 1965 had to comply with operation
and maintenance of sanitary landfill regulations. Both the City
of Negaunee and Tilden Township closed their sites and joined
Ishpeming.
This three-municipality landfill operated until the opening of
the Marquette County Solid Waste Management Authority. The old
landfill was capped and it can be seen from the Iron Ore Heritage
Trail between the cities of Negaunee and Ishpeming as a wide open
space between the trees and ridges. Today, all municipalities
in the county belong to this successful collaborative disposal
of solid waste.
Both Budinger and Dr. Richard Potter, the first department health
officer, began to advocate for the adoption of a county-wide sanitary
code for the safe disposal of sewage. Marquette County was the
last county to have such a code in the state. They reported on
testing of a number of local lakes and streams, which revealed
the presence of significant quantities of bacteria from human
excrement.
At a public hearing, township supervisors Kenneth Walimaa from
Ishpeming Township and A.J. Menhennick from Chocolay Township
stated that water pollution and sewage problems in their areas
indicated the need for a standard county sanitation code. But
most township officials at that time complained that it gave the
health officer too much power over the regulations and that each
township should have the right to do its own inspections.
Over the summer of ’67, the difference of opinions made the
adoption not likely. But in September of that year, both the Ishpeming
and Marquette chambers of commerce backed the proposal, along
with the Mining Journal, and the Marquette Medical Society persuaded
the Marquette County supervisors to pass it—27-13 (forty-member
board versus the seven of today) on September 21, 1967. It went
into effect January 1, 1968. Prior to the passage, there were
no regulations at all on the size of septic systems and many homes
simply had a pipe that went to the nearest lake or stream. Our
bathing beaches along Lake Superior and inland lakes thank these
people from forty years ago.
Today, we have excellent examples of intergovernmental agreements
to provide safe drinking water and the disposal of sewage and
waste in Marquette County. These agreements are never easy, but,
in the long run, have at heart the best interest of the health
of Marquette County residents.
Ernest Ronn, chairman of the Marquette County Economic Study committee,
said it best at that February 2, 1967 meeting: “Finally,
it has been emphasized here today, that there are communities
in our county that do not have safe, sanitary supplies of drinking
water, and an inadequate supply to guarantee safe fire protection.
To me these conditions are far more important in emphasizing the
need for water resources in Marquette County than any economic
factor that might be involved.”
The health department still conducts inspections of wells and
septic tank systems. Many of the systems installed under the sanitary
code years ago remain effective in protecting groundwater and
providing safe drinking water. More than fifty percent of all
county residents are on water well systems; 1967 seems like a
long time ago, but it’s a mere blip on the screen.
Here’s my wish to you: a good, clear glass of water, and
that in 2050 our children’s children can have the same.
For information on water testing kits for well water, contact
the Marquette County Health Department at 475-4195 or visit www.mqthealth.org
—George Sedlacek
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