A Place in Time

Seguin's of Marinette, Wisconsin holds a special place in my heart. It is a small gift shop, liquor store and specializes in cheeses and various condiments. It is located just south of Marinette on US Highway 41. They have been in business since the late 60's and have been a favorite stopping point for our family for all of its years of operation.

Before my first wife and I had children it was a place to stop and pick up some locally made Wisconsin cheese, and crackers. Seguin's is located right next to a small rest area with bathrooms and picnic tables.

A few years later when we traveled north with our young children, Kristi and Jenny, we stopped on the way up, and back to pick up cheese, snacks, and stop at the rest area. The rest area has been re-landscaped and does not look like the old rest area. It still has bathrooms and picnic tables, but it doesn't have the same feel it used to. Years ago the rest area was filled with large trees, a small slope you could climb to the back of the area and a big old hand operated water pump for water. Our children's favorite activity when we stopped at Sequin's for our cheese and snacks was to pump water for each other and just wear off some excess energy not worn off in the car.

To this day I can close my eyes and see one of my most favorite pictures of all time. The kids were dressed for travel, we had stopped at Seguin's picked up some cheese and had gone across the parking lot to the rest area. It was sunny and the light was coming from almost overhead. The result was a sun dappled rest area with shadows interrupted by spotlights playing across the grassy area. The children had gone to the top of the slope exploring the rest area as they always had. I had my camera out and was piddling around with it while my wife set up our simple fare of cheese, crackers and drinks. The kids were called to the table, they both began to run down the slope, and soon gravity aided their stride. They ran down the slope with complete abandon. Those are the pictures I caught, the two children running down the slope, eyes sparkling and flashing with pure pleasure written across their face. Innocence and fun and excitement explode from their features. It is a scene I think of often, certainly every time I pass Seguin's.

Now my wife Terry and I stop there. She enjoys the gift shop and we almost always buy some cheese curds and string cheese to snack on in the car as we head back to Arkansas. I have bought Minnetonka moccasins there, still do. I know it is a gift shop, but I have priced Minnetonka moccasins in other retail establishments and on line and the price is about the same. So, why not trade at a place that has brought so much pleasure to our family over the years. My children often stop at Seguin's on their travels to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and they faithfully report it still has the same small business charm it had when they were young.

Oh yeah, the fresh cheese curds still squeak between your teeth.

A Family Cheer?

My youngest daughter checks out my blog from time to time. I've been trying to record bits and pieces of family stories and history on this site. I am the youngest of the children born of Earl & Rebecca Floria, Vernon and Margeret Floria and Cecil and Lucille Floria. I am 62. In a time frame yet to be determined that unique threesome of Vern, Earl and Cecil's direct descendants shall be gone. With the passing of my generation a loss of wit, wisdom and history will disappear.
I do not have the energy or the will to write a history of the Burt and Nettie Floria progeny, but I do think that they represent times that are important and in some ways unique to our history. So I am attempting to write stories and pieces of history as I recall them.

One of the things that has fascinated me for years was the use of language by the three boys. They grew up in rough times, little in the way of toys, and of course in the early 1900's there was no TV, Radio, Movies, or entertainment open to their life style. So their imaginations had to fire up and provide them with what entertainment could be gleaned in a logging community on the shore of Lake Superior.

Some where, my Dad made up a saying, I call it a cheer that has always amused the family, but no one in the younger generation has taken up to pass on. The "cheer" is nonsensical, it is words put together, yet it could be recited by my father, Vern at the drop of a hat. I've learned it, and have attempted to pass it on but no other member of my family has picked up this little piece of verbal memorabilia. So here it is in all its insignificant, nonsensical glory.

Ra bic a bing, bic a bing bang bowow
Yip skiddley ay there, git there stay there.
Amen my brother Ben, killed a duck and goosed a hen.
Verily, Verily I say unto thee, so Mote it be.

The end comes from the Masons, but the rest is pure dad. I find it amusing to sit and picture the old man sitting down and with a serious face and a deep bass voice roll out the "cheer."