May 1955
- charliebunton
- 1 day ago
- 4 min read
Memorial Day dawned gently over Rogers City, the kind of morning when the air feels soft against the skin and the scent of lilacs drifts lazily through town. People gathered outside Westminster Church, their footsteps crunching on the pavement as the parade formed—veterans standing tall in their uniforms, the Rogers City Band warming up with bright brass notes, Scouts adjusting sashes and neckerchiefs with nervous pride.
As the procession moved down Third Street, the rhythmic beat of drums echoed between the buildings, stirring something deep and familiar in the hearts of those watching. Flags fluttered in the breeze, their colors vivid against the spring sky. At the Presque Isle County Courthouse square, the parade paused. The crowd fell into a hush so complete that even the birds seemed to quiet. A wreath was placed at the memorial marker, its fresh greenery and flowers releasing a faint, earthy fragrance as it settled into place—an offering to the men who had given their lives in the great wars. For a moment, time felt suspended, held gently in reverence.
The march resumed toward Memorial Park Cemetery, where the grass shimmered with morning dew. Brief services were held there, the words of remembrance carried softly on the wind. Then came the highlight of the day: the dedication of the new Veterans Memorial Building on Erie Street. Its doors opened wide to welcome the community, the scent of polished wood and fresh paint mingling with the aroma of the buffet lunch prepared by the hardworking ladies of the veterans’ auxiliaries. Laughter and conversation filled the rooms as visitors explored the space—a dream finally realized after years of planning and persistence by local veterans and civic leaders.
It was hard not to think back to the modest beginnings of the Servicemen’s Club, founded in 1943 in the old Lemere Building. What started with just twenty members had grown to more than three hundred by 1955, a testament to the town’s enduring spirit. During the dedication, a large American flag—one that had flown proudly over the nation's capital in Washington D.C.—was presented to the club on behalf of Representative Emil Peltz. Its fabric rustled softly as it was unfurled, a symbol of honor and continuity.
Spring celebrations didn’t end there. Mother’s Day brought its own warmth to Rogers City. Children, their hands sticky from chocolates or clutching small bouquets, bustled through shops with their fathers, choosing gifts that sparkled, smelled sweet, or simply felt right. The Girl Scouts hosted a Mother/Daughter banquet in the cozy basement of Westminster Presbyterian Church. The room filled with the comforting aroma of roast chicken and mashed potatoes, the clatter of dishes, and the delighted chatter of families gathered together. Strawberry shortcake—bright, sweet, and piled high with whipped cream—was the perfect finish to an evening of games, laughter, and heartfelt appreciation.
Meanwhile, over at Rogers City High School, the crack of a bat and the thud of a ball hitting a glove signaled the return of baseball season. Eight lettermen were back on the field, including seniors Joseph Kubinski, Alfred Kerr, and Jerome Wojtaszek. Under the steady guidance of Coach Dick Abraham, optimism hung in the air like the scent of freshly cut grass. The Hurons were aiming high, and the town was ready to cheer them on.
Not all the week’s excitement was planned. For young adventurers John Grote and Larry Lozen, a simple pleasure sail turned into a moment they wouldn’t soon forget. Their nine‑foot boat, bobbing lightly on the water at first, suddenly began to take on water. A sharp wave slapped the bow, and in an instant the craft lurched and sank into the cold depths. The boys, chilled to the bone but buoyed by their life preservers, struck out for shore. Barry Sheedlo, who had witnessed the mishap, alerted police, but by the time help arrived the boys were already safe on land—shivering, wide‑eyed, and grateful. A group of local kids helped pull the waterlogged boat ashore at Seagull Point, their hands numb but their spirits high.
Comments