Blood, water, and all that jazz

A week of travel in which nothing is certain ahead of time, so the traveler is never sure what to expect, makes for some surprises. Zelda and I drove through several waves of rainy weather Saturday on our way across southern Wisconsin, northern Illinois and Indiana, and western Ohio. There were brief showers on Friday in La Crosse, but not enough to prevent us from seeing what we wanted to see on a day-long walk down memory lane in my childhood hometown.

The big storm was Thursday, while my brother Rock and I drove back to La Crosse from Spring Grove, heading down Norwegian Ridge on route 44 toward Hokah, Minnesota. It was a gulley-washer, almost no visibility, then just as quickly it stopped before we crossed the river into Wisconsin. We had some time before meeting the sisters for dinner, so I went outside for a workout and did a taiji form under a big tree by the river. About the time my form was finished, here comes the storm again, and the big tree wasn't much shelter, so I got a nice soaking before dinner.

No big deal. I changed clothes, and we met the rest of the group at Schmidty's on the South Side. The House Fish was excellent with a local brew. Afterward, we all gathered at Jeanie Beanie's hotel downtown to play Catch Phrase - you know, that game where two teams match wits with verbal cues and try to beat the timer. It was fun for young and old. Thus ended a long, eventful day that began with Uncle Chuck's memorial service in the form of a jazz concert in a Presbyterian church.

An open, airy structure of wood, stone, and glass with lots of flowers and an eight-piece band. Second son Russ Anderson greeted us and said "This is going to be a celebration," which it was. Chuck's band opened with several old favorites, including St. James Infirmary, What a Friend We Have in Jesus, Battle Hymn of the Republic, Amazing Grace, and The Old Rugged Cross, all played New Orleans-style with a somber kind of joy.

The minister talked briefly, and a bandmate spoke about their shared musical history, playing with Bob Hirsch, Milt Hinton. Les Brown, Jay McShan, among others. The minister told some stories, like when Chuck and my dad took over my grandpa's restaurant and changed the name from Al's Lunch to the C&D Cafe, advertising "Chuck your troubles and Dunc a donut at the C&D."

The band closed with Wonderful World, and everybody gathered nextdoor for lunch in the church dining room, where a CD of more tunes accompanied slides of Chuck's life. Baby pictures with his little sister Helen, high school photos, in the Army during the war, a group shot of the 1947 Spring Grove Homecoming beard contest in the C&D, with Marion and their babies, grandchildren, and of course playing bass with the band. I spotted Terry Grosskopf, the current bass player, and told him I enjoyed his rock-solid solo on Amazing Grace; he told me Chuck had lured him from a teaching job in Chicago and recruited him into the band. And the beat goes on.

After lunch we got in cars and drove the half-hour over the bridge to Spring Grove, where just sighting the water tower and the church steeple brought back memories. There was a big group gathered at the cemetary and lots of casual conversation before the urn of ashes were lowered into the ground. Words were said, taps was played, and a flag was presented to Marion by a unit from the American Legion. Some of the oldtimers are still around, and I met a guy named Carty Onstad who played basketball with my dad back in the day. It was a sunny summer solstice afternoon in southern Minnesota.

After a little while all the Andersons and Duncansons regrouped in the park to take group photos. You know the drill: those in the picture hand their camera to someone else, say 'cheese', and then the next group poses. There's more shade in the park than at the cemetary, so it was a nice place to chill. Someone got the bright idea to go get ice cream at a the Blue Moose, which was recently opened by a guy about my age who grew up in Spring Grove when the C&D was still open and yearned for that kind of hangout. The place was hopping, and the chocolate shakes were excellent.

While enjoying her ice cream on the back deck of the Blue Moose, Helen decided to take a walking tour of the town, egged on a bit by her kids. Jo Jo, Rock, Anna Banana, Zelda, and I went along, followed by an entourage numbering around twenty and ranging in age from 4 to 86. We walked down Division Street to the house she and Chuck grew up in, then to the big brick house their two families shared, with commentary on when her dad built the smaller house out in back, the spirea bushes that used to grow in the front yard, and lots of other memories (which I can't remember a week later).