Tuesday, 6/11

At least for now we're getting through it. That may change. But at least for now we're getting through it.

I've had several people ask how the street construction is going in front of our house--

And, well, it's going. The first week we got to deal with pavement being torn out and back-end loaders loading up back ends (or whatever they load) until 10 at night. Now, as I mentioned yesterday, we don't have any real water; instead, there's a hose hooked up to a fire hydrant, feeding our whole building of 5 different apartments containing nine different people.

But it'll be done soon, right?

Right?

It’s funny; whenever I hear someone complain about how street construction gets in the way of their drive to work or causes them to have to walk a block or two out of their way, I’ll always say something along the lines of “Well, it’s a sign that Marquette is a constantly growing and evolving community, always trying to make itself better and position itself for the future”. I either then get a glare or a slap (or both), but I always point out the good of road repair.

Now, of course, it’s right outside my front door. On any given day equipment will be moving around, pipes will be hauled hither and yon, and and I'll get glares from workers as I try to pick my way through the maze of tools & concrete they've placed on the very same sidewalk I need to traverse to get to work (or anywhere, for that matter). Still, I don't begrudge them much, even when they start digging at 7 in the morning.

That's maybe the one thing that's really bothersome about the whole affair.

Being an apartment dweller for lo these many years, I sleep with earplugs. They drown out most of the outside (and inside) noise, and allow you to get a good night’s rest. So I can just imagine what it's like at 7 on any given morning when some of my neighbors, many of whom probably don't sleep with earplugs, realize what's happening outside their doors. I mean, if I can hear the noise through earplugs, I can just imagine what it would sound like without ‘em.

Still, I s’pose we have to look at it the way I always look at it. The street reconstruction is a sign that Marquette is a constantly growing and evolving community, always trying to make itself better and position itself for the future. And that’s a good thing.

Even if you don't have water, have to traverse an obstacle course to get anywhere, and you don't need to set an alarm clock for the duration of the project.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/10

They're here! They're here! They're here!!!!!

And I will spare you any further mention of that particular subject, as I know you're nowhere near as obsessed with them as am I.

That's okay. You can thank me later.

8-)

Other than that, I enjoyed the first semi-summer weekend of the season as much as anyone could. While not both days were perfect (although Saturday came darned near close), I was still able to get out and enjoy every single second of it (at least, every single second when it wasn't raining and/or having temperatures fall 20 degrees in 2 hours). It's weird; I don't know about you, but I seem to have “summer” routine and a “winter” routine. The “summer” routine actually takes up a lot more time, mostly because I'm playing outside, but I always seem more refreshed on a Sunday night than I do after a weekend of “winter”, when I (occasionally) have time to lie around and do nothing.

There's just something about not being confined to an apartment, to be able to go do what I want when I want. It's kind of amazing. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I also had a visitor at work Friday--

You remember Matt Sia, right? The young man who wrote and recorded the song “Marquette, Mi”? Well, he was back in Marquette for the weekend, and stopped to say “hey”, where we both marveled at how it's been 12 years since the song came out and both also marveled as to how we're STILL getting multiple requests for it each and every week.

It just shows the power of a heart-felt piece of art, I guess, especially one that just about everyone who's ever lived here can relate to.

Finally, I would like to thank everyone who took a few seconds to vote over the past week on which picture I should turn into the desktop picture on my notebook computer. Since I promised I wasn't going to write about a certain flower any more, I'll just show you the winner without comment--

By the way, have I mentioned that this is, thanks to my travels, the third straight month where I've been able to sniff lilacs? Have I?

8-)

Well, I should get going and jump in the shower.  The city will be turning off the water to everyone on our street in a few minutes, and I don't want to get caught in the middle of that with a head full of shampoo, do I?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/7

He died 75 years ago this Sunday.

Arthur W. Lemieux  was born in Marquette on April 20^th, 1920, to Arthur E. and Jessie Lemieux. He was the second of five children; his dad worked at and later owned the old Marquette Steam Laundry, which sat where the parking lot behind Donckers and the Delft is now located. He went to (but didn’t graduate from) Graveraet High School, and worked as, among other things, a taxi driver until World War II, when he joined the 82^nd Airborne. As part of the 505^th Parachute Infantry Regiment, he made the jump into France the night before the D-Day landings, helping to secure the town of Ste. Mere Eglise. Three days later, June 9^th, he was trying to cross a field near that town when he was shot & killed by a German machine gunner. He was temporarily buried in Ste. Mere Eglise, and his body was brought back to the U.S. in 1949, where he was laid to rest in Park Cemetery.

And that’s where his story ended, at least for the next half century.

Now flash forward to the summer of 2000. A young couple decides to spend a nice afternoon walking through Park Cemetery, and having seen “Saving Private Ryan” several times, the female half of the couple looks around to see if she can find the headstones of anyone who died in World War II. The first grave she finds is that of Arthur W. Lemieux. She does a little research into his story, which has been lying untold for 45 years, and that starts her on an epic project that, almost two decades later, is still an ongoing effort.

You can guess who the young couple was, right?

Arthur W. Lemieux will always have a soft spot in Loraine’s heart; after all, you don’t easily forget someone who changed your life like that. Because of him, she’s spent most of the past two decades researching not only his story but those of 243 other men & women from Marquette and Alger County who died during the conflict. And because of him, we’ve spent a lot of time in France, traipsing around dirt roads and farm fields, retracing the steps of his final days. Thanks to some very helpful people (especially his squad leader, the late and very knowledgeable Spencer Wurst), we know what happened to him on his final day. We know the squad left Ste. Mere Eglise with orders to take the Montebourg railway station. They walked past the village of Fresville, and down this dirt road--

Once down the road, they rounded a corner, came upon a stone quarry, and then attempted to cross this farm field--

What they didn’t know was that there was a German machine gun nest nearby with a perfect view of the field. Spencer Wurst tried to cross the field first, and was pinned down by gunfire. Lemieux and a Massachusetts native named Eli Potty tried to attack the machine gun nest, but died in the attempt.

And now you know his story. A story that, sadly, came to an end 75 years ago Sunday.

****

On that note, have yourself an amazing weekend, especially if turns out as warm as the forecast promises. I, personally, am looking forward to seeing what these do in the sun and the heat--

You'll see the results Monday. Trust me—you'll see the results Monday!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget you have the weekend left to vote on which picture I'll be putting on my notebook desktop for the foreseeable future. Scroll down to Tuesday's entry for the choices; the one currently in the lead may, in fact, have a little something to do with those blossoms I'm hoping to see this weekend).

Thursday, 6/6

75 years ago today the largest military invasion in American history began. It's been written about in books and magazines, dramatized in movies & TV shows, and has even inspired a series of trips to Europe by my lovely wife to research those men from Marquette County who died during or immediately following the landings in Normandy.

So today and tomorrow, I'm going to share two of those stories. Stories that began in Upper Michigan but ended a quarter of the way around the world, helping liberate a country from the grasp of tyranny. Today? The only person living in Marquette County to actually die on the beaches.

William Richards was born in Virginia, Minnesota, graduated from the Michigan College of Technology and Mining, and, in 1940, was working for Cleveland Cliffs at the same time he was a lieutenant in the 107^th National Guard Combat Engineering Battalion in Ishpeming. He had been married to a Negaunee girl--Mary Archibald--for two months, when the battalion was called up for a year of active duty. World War II then started, and that one year became “for the duration”.

The 107^th was shuttled around various camps in the U.S., and headed overseas in 1942, where Richards eventually attained the rank of Major. The invasion of Europe was on the horizon, and Richards’ battalion would be given one of the most dangerous of assignments--to clear the invasion beaches of mines, obstacles, and booby traps laid by the Nazis.

The 107^th was going in with the first wave of troops.

Now, if you’ve seen “Saving Private Ryan”, you get a pretty good idea of what the first wave had to face. That did not seem to daunt Richards and his engineers, especially when you read what was written about his actions in a Distinguished Service Cross citation he posthumously received--

“Major Richards landed with the initial assault waves under heavy enemy artillery, machine gun and rifle fire. He immediately effected the removal of barbed wire by directing the operations of a tank dozer, preceding it on foot under heavy small arms fire. After removing this obstacle, he personally reconnoitered inland to find the exact position of an enemy gun which was harassing troops and equipment at the entrance of one of the beach exits. After locating this gun, he made his way back to the beach and reported its location. He then proceeded to organize the units of his battalion for aggressive action against the enemy on the cliffs."

The hill Major Richards was attempting to take when he was killed.

The report continued, "Though wounded, Major Richards again proceeded to a beach exit to direct the efforts of the mine clearing and obstacle removing parties. While organizing these parties, he was killed by enemy fire. The courage and devotion to duty exhibited by Major Richards reflects great credit upon himself and is in keeping with the highest traditions of the armed forces.”

This is Major Richards’ final resting place, at the Normandy American Cemetery, on a bluff overlooking Omaha Beach, in St. Laurent sur Mer, France--

Aside from his wife in Ishpeming, Richards left a 2-year old daughter. He was the highest ranking individual from Marquette County to be killed during World War II.

Tomorrow, the story of Marquette paratrooper who made it through the first day of the invasion.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—on a wildly different note, don't forget to vote for which picture goes on my notebook desktop. Scroll down to Tuesday's entry for the pics and the process).

Wednesday, 6/5

If you think that you have any privacy these days, that any part of your personal life can't be bought or sold...

Then I have a tale for you.

I don't shop at Meijer at Marquette a lot; there's really no reason for that, other than the fact that I could find myself easily addicted to the cornbread in their bakery and it's probably better for my health and my waistline that I'm not a regular shopper there. It's a fine store and the people who work there are top-notch.

I'm just not a regular-regular customer.

But before we went to Germany in April we did stop there, where I picked up, among other things, protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai. I would normally pay cash for that mix, but because I had just gotten a replacement credit card and wanted to make sure the chip worked before we headed overseas, I used the card, and then promptly forgot about what I purchased.

Or, at least forgot about until I came home and checked the mail last night.

Among the things I found in the mail was a little package of coupons from Meijer, addressed to me. What did those coupons offer for sale? Well, how about protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other thing. Now, I'm not a Meijer mPerks member. When I bought the protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, I did not tell anyone at the store who I was. The store has no way of knowing I might like to once again buy protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other things, unless they noticed someone with my credit card number bought them, and then paid and/or traded with my credit card company to find out who owned said credit card number.

That seems to me to be the only way that Meijer would know that it was me who purchased the protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other things. And I don't know what I find more discomforting—the fact that Meijer can buy that information, or the fact that my credit card company would sell it. I mean, I'm as aware as anyone that we have no privacy these days, that information about us is bought and sold multiple times an hour. But to see such a...demonstrative example of this when I opened the mail last night was, well, a wake up call. Proof positive that all kinds of nefarious stuff happens whether we realize it or not.

And yet another rude welcome to life in the 21^st century as we know and live it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget to vote for which picture should reside on the desktop of my notebook computer for the foreseeable future. Just scroll down to yesterday's post for the entries. I promise I won't use your personal data or compromise your privacy in any way whatsoever!)

Tuesday, 6/4

I'm pleasantly surprised that you guys even noticed I didn't do it.

Every year when I get back from Europe I usually have you guys pick out the picture I display on my work computer desktop for the next year. Over the years you've picked some amazing photos that I've been able to look at for 12 months, but this year I decided not to do it. Why, you ask? Well, I answer, for a couple of reasons. One, it's only been eight months since I put up the latest picture, and two, because I have a toy cow that matches it.

Seriously—for Christmas, my parents (jokingly) gave me a toy cow that looks almost exactly like the current desktop picture I have. Don't believe me?

And because of both those reasons, I didn't want to change my desktop picture after this trip.

However, because several of you e-mailed me and wondered if I was going to put pictures up to a vote, I tell you what. Here are six pictures. I have a notebook computer that I take to Europe to write blogs and the like, a computer that I also use throughout the year for other things where I need a small machine. The picture that you choose will go on that machine, and while I won't see it as often as I would every day at work, it'll still be gazed upon on occasion.

Sound cool? Good. I hoped you'd think so.

So without further ado, here are this year's six possibilities--

Tiergarten Park in Berlin--

Flowers at the market in Leipzig--

The very historic Augustusplatz in Leipzig, with the University of Leipzig in the background--

Loraine in her happy place, Red Bull Arena--

The Leipzig skyline, taken from Johannapark--

And two of my favorite things in the world—lilacs and an Ampelmann--

Feel free to pick which one you think should go on my notebook computer's desktop for the foreseeable future. Just e-mail me your choice by, say, Sunday night at 1159. That way, I can announce the winner in Monday's blog. Thanks for voting. And heck, thanks for wondering why I didn't do it this year in the first place!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/3

They still haven't popped. But I am getting hopeful.

The first few days of June have been just like most of May, so I can't say I'm totally surprised that the lilacs haven't fully bloomed in Marquette. Like I said, I'm hopeful. I don't know that I could think any other way. That's just too painful a thought to even bear.

So I'll just keep telling myself—one day soon. One day soon.

8-)

Speaking of this horrid spring we’ve had so far, I have this fact to pass along from one of my Weatherology friends. It seems like, out of 31 days in the just-completed month of May, only 3 of them—THREE OF THEM—had temperatures above average. Now I’m not a mathematician, and I don’t play one on TV, but I think I’m pretty safe in saying that that means there were TWENTY EIGHT days in May below average.

That’s, like, most of the month, isn’t it?

So here’s to hoping June shakes some sense into Mother Nature. Here’s to hoping the lilacs come out soon around here and then live a long and healthy life. If that happens, and if you happen to see me on my way somewhere, with my nose buried in purple flowers, take pity on me.

After all, we all have our crosses to bear, right?

Finally, I may have been a bit premature in mentioning Friday that something else hadn't yet started.  Look what I saw when I walked out the door this morning--

Yup.  It's gonna be a fun month.

(jim@wmqt.com)