July 1
 90 years ago…

Part of me, this morning, in on the Somme where I had hoped to be today. A moment of remembrance for those lost souls on a morning that changed history…

The weather turned last night, with high winds and needed rain. Should keep the boats away with winds from the southwest at 8 knots.

They have declared a Small Craft Advisory, which might give me my second day with no visitors and my first of complete solitude on the Island. We’ll see. I took advantage of the likelihood of having no visitors to walk on the beach around the point. Commanding vistas thought-out; raging seas: soaring gulls. Found the two gypsy moth traps they had asked me to locate.

I couldn’t do the complete circumnavigation of the Island that I had wanted to, because this gimpy knee complains of walking in the sand.

My gut is clenching as I listen on my radio as they track distressed boaters and kayakers, and now with a grass fire on Stockton. Talk about stress: when peoples lives are at risk! (Also had to laugh the other day when they had to close a latrine that was full to two inches below the commode! That’s another kind of stress I don’t have to deal with!)

Here was my visitor count for June

32 tours: 128 attended: 11 informal contacts

157 total visitors; 30 boats; 1 overnight boat

I am no longer sitting on the porch at all as Mr. and Mrs. Phoebe are spending all their days feeding their fledglings and won’t feed if I am sitting there. Mark Safina’s “Eye of the Albatross” has sensitized me to how important these early feeding are, so I leave them to it.

July 2

Picked up the Worst Case Scenario Survivor Handbook on a whim recently in Madison. In it, I was reminded that in all scenarios one must stay calm and not panic. “Will power is the most critical survivor skill of all. Don’t catch the terrible disease of ‘Give up-itis.’”

July 3

Booming fireworks last night pulled me out of yet another deep sleep, confused. Once I figured out that someone was celebrating the 4th on the 2nd, I fell back into coma.

The sheer physicality of these days is a delightful change for me. I’m in bed reading as early as 7:30, and twice have been sound asleep by 8:30! A couple of times, earlier, I was awake for my obligatory two hours in the middle of the night, but not recently. Out here, the peace of gently falling asleep to the sound of the waves, and awaking to the birds (except when it is a squawking raven) has been sweet.

And so today marks the completion of two weeks out here. What a revelation in so many ways: really the perfect choice for me at any point, particularly with the weights I currently carry. Connecting with the Apostle Islands has been an unbelievable blessing. So has the immersion in my own past with this long re-reading of all the journals I have kept over my life since the age of 16. The cocoon of love and acceptance by family and friends in which I grew and matured has truly been critical in the “grounding” which serves me so well as President. I’m also struck that, for the first time in my life, I’m not longer questing, no longer in search of something else or something more. I have found the home and the calling I have always been longing for.

And, how much I have enjoyed this simple reengagement in the art of writing. Funny how that passed out of my life without notice, in favor of the ease of the keyboard. Sitting at this table scribbling reconnects me with a huge part of my past.

And, oh, that past! There is so much of it! I have to say that this is the first time I am starting to feel my age chronologically. Needing to “do the math,” as I think: “this happened 30, 28, 22, etc. years ago” puts whole new perspective on being 49! Events in graduate school for example occurred, literally, a lifetime ago!

Last night, I had to two sets of visitors after dinner, one set of whom, annoyingly, went parading though my quarters which I had reopened, thinking I was done for the day. And what a busy day it was! Visitors pretty much straight from 11:45 am to 4:30 pm despite a very strong wind (20 knots.) Ended up with 10 groups of 48 people!

I awoke this morning at 5:45am: winds dead calm, so dark that I am needing to write this with a flashlight. All of a sudden the wind picked up and the rain blew in. Amazing how the wind can go from zero to ten knots in a heart beat. One needs to be respectful of this lake.

Later: they came so fast and furiously today, even after 4:00 pm when I was trying to relax just a bit, that I was thinking: “can’t you just leave me alone!”

I really never mind when it is a group or two on one time: but when it is 24 from the tour boat plus three private boats landing all at the same time, it gets to be a bit much. The visitors are always kind and appreciative. I had one lighthouse buff today who hung on my every word which was a bit daunting.

July 4

My first guests arrive at 6:30 am which bodes a busy day!

Later: luckily for the second time, early guests did not mean a deluge. Only 21 today, mostly spaced out. And what a day it was: weather nearly perfect with the best visibility I have had to date. My panorama stretched from the Porcupine Mountains in Michigan as far as the ore dock in far-off Ashland. I spent the morning on lawn-care, using both the tractor and push mower. Its been a long time since I have been responsible for mowing a lawn!

I am looking forward to a unique 4^th of July on the tower, watching fireworks from Bayfield, Washburn, and Ashland all by myself.

July 5

Heading to the top of the tower last night was definitely worth it. Sunset nice: I sang old camp songs which tapped into deep memories. Then the moon’s light started to pick up, with a sweep of white coming across the water from the south. At about 9 pm, my light switched on and grew in intensity as the darkness deepened. (Though, interesting, the sky never did get totally dark the whole time I was out there.) Next, the lights started twinkling: houses on Madeline, harbor lights on Long Island, signal towers in Bayfield and Ashland. Because it was perceptibly darker in the East, I saw the fireworks begin in Michigan, sweep over to Ironwood/Hurley, then into the Chequamegon Bay. All this, of course, accompanied by the loud buzzing of a large swarm of mosquitoes who had followed the light, I think, and tried (unsuccessfully) to penetrate the layers of clothing I was wearing against the cold. That was one time I didn’t expect them!

I am struck by the applicability of something Tony Judt said in his thoughtful Post War about the important difference between memory and history. We need history (and historians) because memory can be distorted and does fade. As I read so many references in my personal journals for which I no longer have a living memory attached, I am so grateful that I took the trouble to scribble in my journals over the years. So much that would have been lost to me is preserved. Journaling is an interesting obsession, after all: to catch one’s perceptions for the future.

Well, I head back to Ashland tomorrow for four nights and the Alumni Reunion. I am fine with leaving for now: no somber sighing. What I am looking forward on the mainland are eggs and not having to put on mosquito netting and gloves to go to the bathroom. I’ll be interested in how the profound peace that has descended over mind, spirit, and heart, will hold up as I return to e-mail, enrollment pressures, etc.

I hope this Island experience is somehow, deep down, expanding my heart and changing me forever.

July 7
 Ashland

This was a great decision: to come back for Alumni Week-end with a day to spare for catching up on business, laundry, etc.

They came to fetch me off the Island at 9:15 am. Spent some time showing my replacement how to use the trolley. As we pulled away, I got a real look at “my” Island which I love so much. (That’s why I’m so proud when visitors enjoy it: just like Northland!) I’m in love! Also had the good idea, as we pulled away, to use the lighthouse as the metaphor for this round of strategic planning.

Didn’t mind returning at all, which lets you know how much I truly love Ashland. The updates from [Provost] Rick were not depressing, which has helped me hold onto my “island glow.” Did some errands in town before settling down to my lunch of a huge pile of scrambled eggs. The one thing I can’t get used to yet is the road noise off Ellis Avenue. The peace of the Island does indeed surpasseth all understanding!

July 8
 Ashland

Ways the Island is changing me: I glow as I drive around the Chequamegon Bay and look out towards “my” Island. It’s the same feeling as being newly in love. After two weeks without, I have no taste for coffee anymore: had to throw a pot out yesterday morning. I feel grounded and centered in a way I hope will persist. Somehow I do feel that the experience will have changed me forever, much as my first research trip to England did.

I’m in love! Still early to bed; early to rise. The re-entry to work was smooth but busy. Had a Business/Alumni breakfast at 7:30 am followed by meetings straight through until noon. Ate, then ran up to the lovely Apostle Islands Golf Course for a new, very successful fundraising event there. How I love Northland folks! Tam Hoffman, an alumna who works at the Park, said her colleagues have been talking about what a good job I am doing on Michigan, which pleased me enormously.

July 9
 Ashland

The ways Northland College is so special continues to burn themselves on my heart. [A current junior] was just here for breakfast. I know with 100% certainty that we will be recognizing him with an Alumni Award 30 years from now, just as we recognized 3 giants at our triumphant Alumni Banquet last night. The reunion activities simply could not have gone better. Such an affirmation of how special a place we are and how many miracles we have wrought in the lives of so many. I am so proud to be part of it all!

To continue reading Karen's journal, click here.

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