Yesterday most us us piled into two cars and took a tour of Devils Lake with my grandparents leading the way. Since both my grandparents lived out of town growing up, they had to stay with other families during the week in order to attend school. We got to see the houses they stayed in and the houses of their friends, cousins, priests and aunts. My grandfather told us how he and a friend made it a goal to get to the rooftoop of each building in the small town, a feat nearly accomplished.
We learned that my grandparents had a master key to the high school and would go wander the hallways and look at the art work (or make out, as my grandpa puts it). I’ve learned that both my grandparents were highly involved in student government with my grandpa acting as student body president. The stories they tell are so intertwined and where one lacks detail, the other fills the space.
The tour included former schools, the cemetery and a museum that used to be the sheriff’s house. At the museum pictures of my great great grandparents hung on the wall memorializing my great great grandfather’s time as sherriff. The old telephone directory holds the names of family members long gone. The house in itself was where my grandparents got their lone wedding photo taken and my grandmother spent many, many days of her childhood running up and down the stairs.
We recreated the wedding picture and finagled ourself into the display portion of the museum. Today we head out to visit the farms were both my grandparents grew up. Quite frankly, we’re gearing up to battle HUGE mosquitos. Apparently mosquitoes and thunder storms are a way of life around here and since we’re all wearing the Devils Lake colors, we ought to get used to it
