“This is how to grow into old age. Do it like Grandma Gen. Keep walking, go forward, dance and delight in it all. Reach out and share.”

JoAnne Garrett Producer Journal

“Grandma Gen”  Shoot

We literally cannot keep up with her. 86 years old and she leaves us in the dust. She is a small woman with a beautiful laugh and oh man, can she walk. Our videographer, Frank Boll, hoists the camera onto his shoulder and walks backward in front of Grandma Gen to get a shot of her. Grandma Gen nearly runs him over. And laughs. “Are you having trouble keeping up?,” she says. We smile, weakly. During a break in the action Frank turns to me and says, “Oh, to be 86 again.”

Producer JoAnne Garrett

She is beloved. All day, people walk up to Gen to wish her well on her birthday. She is a star within her tribe: a North Star, a guiding light. The example of a widow who graduates from college with a Master's degree at age 74 puts a substantial ding in the large pile of excuses and rationalizations we all create and cart around as to why we haven’t gone forward with our dreams. She did. Why can’t you? One step at a time, forward, always moving forward. Walking toward her college degrees, walking toward a better life, walking her way out of illness and into health.

She can be as tough as nails. A woman in the tribe told me this story: She had been dithering about whether she should return to college and finish her education. She asked Gen about it. “Well," said Gen, “Are you just lazy or stupid?” Ouch.

On the other hand, after the Water Ceremony, Gen sought out a young girl who planned to walk in the Healing Pilgrimage all the way from Red Cliff to Cornucopia. Gen was so gentle and encouraging. At the end of the conversation Gen enfolded the girl in a tender hug.

“I’m proud to walk in her shadow,” said one of the tribal members. “Man, I’m lucky to have met her,” I thought as we drove back to Madison. This wonderful North Star, lighting the way. This is how to grow into old age. Do it like Grandma Gen. Keep walking, go forward, dance and delight in it all. Reach out and share.

Oh, to be 86 again, if you can do it like Gen.

“Raspberry Island Lighthouse” Shoot

This Old Lighthouse. Rehab at Raspberry. Cue the hammers. It’s noisy out here!

Our job is to document the renovation of this beautiful old building. On a hot, hot day, hardhats slipping on our heads, we walk through the upheaval and din, and grab shots of the skilled craftspeople who are bringing this beauty back into shape.

She’s in good hands. I would characterize the style of these artisans as “sure strokes.” Painting, plastering, pulling out molding, hammering on metal; these people never falter as they move forward. Forward into the past! I think it’s the motto from an old cartoon show (“Peabody and Sherman”?) but it describes the job here; pull back the layers to reveal what this place was, what it meant to the mariners who plied the waters of Lake Superior. “It was life or death”, said Bob Krumenaker, the park superintendent of the Apostle Island National Lakeshore, “If the light went out, people could die.”

One of the pleasures of my job is the chance to learn, to gain a new perspective and understanding. I always thought of lighthouses as quaint, cute objects, interesting relics. No longer.  I understand now that the Raspberry Island Lighthouse had a critical role. Imagine the solace of seeing that light if you were on a ship tossed by the swells of a storm on Lake Superior. How your heart would calm.

What Bob the contractor and the crew are bringing back is part of Wisconsin’s history. I imagine the intense satisfaction of the lighthouse keeper, living this lonely life out on Raspberry Island, keeping that beacon glowing through Lake Superior’s darkest storms.