141 Memories
 
Larry and Midge Perkins purchased Cottage #141 in 1958, figuring Charlevoix to be a perfect way station between home in Chicago, and extended summer sailing adventures in the North Channel, Lake Superior and Lake Michigan. But as the family expanded to the
Grumman-Califano-Perkins clans, then the Grumman-Warren-Husman-Perkins-Ehrlich-Califano-Spaete-Arenstein-Schiamberg-McMenamin clans, with some 24 fourth generation little ones ranging in age from 2 to 26 by 2020, Charlevoix became a family tradition, a place for cousins scattered from Seattle to Cambridge, from North Carolina to Malaysia, or from New York City to Beijing, gathered for a week or two nearly every summer.
 
Midge Perkins’ rule of no TV or radio in the house was intended to foster those bonds, and did just that. Brief exceptions were made for extra special occasions, such as the 1969 Moon landing and the 1981 Royal Wedding of Lady Diana and Prince Charles, watched on a tiny black and white Zenith jerry-rigged from the chimney down, using coat hangers and aluminum foil by engineer David Grumman, Midge’s son-in-law. Other desperate occasions, such as final episodes of the 1975 Masterpiece Theater series “Poldark” (for show addicts and sisters Blair Perkins Grumman and Julia Perkins Califano) had to be viewed by adjusting television channels at Puffs Electronics in downtown Charlevoix, while cousins Caleb Perkins and Eleanor Grumman in 2000 masterminded a special screening of “Survivor” by checking into the Maple Leaf Motel and packing multitudes of cousins into the room for the two hour finale.
 
Charlevoix served all interests, from artistic to culinary, biking to blobbing. Isabella Califano Ehrlich, a Princeton Tigressions acapella alumna, directed a dozen cousins one summer in a harmonized “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” performance for grandfather Larry Perkins. Educator Judith Perkins stage-managed a 2008 Belvedere Olympics for family athletes under age 10. Gabriel and Sharon Califano masterminded a Belvedere treasure hunt for young pirate, Blair Warren, son of Cornelia Grumman and Jim Warren, with rhyming clues. David Grumman crafted nautically-themed limericks (some PG, and some not), while Mary Ann Grumman, David’s second wife, captured the beauty of the Charlevoix area’s sunflower and lavender fields in photographs with an artist’s eye. Mike Husman, married to Eleanor Grumman. discovered beyond-the-Belvedere supper clubs and other points of interest while training for triathlons. Master fishermen Scott Schiamberg, Phyllis Perkins and Nick Califano perfected pre-dawn fly fishing acumen in the Manistee and other area rivers, sometimes using the aluminum Grumman canoe still hanging in the garage. Family members each contributed a square for a quilt in honor of Julia Califano’s 70^th birthday, and Susanne Grumman and Nick Califano provided the impetus one summer for a family-wide, all-in day of still life watercolor painting.
 
Sailing, however, persists through generations as the family’s greatest shared love. But just as people age, so do boats. The all-wood, beloved, high-maintenance 1929 Alden schooner, Allegro, eventually was sold for the more manageable fiberglass Allouez, a Pearson 365. In its earlier years Allouez would be cruised up through the Mackinaw straits and into Canada’s North Channel or Lake Superior for weeks-long cruises, hiking, fishing, blueberry picking and swimming. Ultimately, though, the challenging logistics of crew changes, work schedules, small children, border customs and persistent engine failure forced the decision to keep Allouez at Irish Boat Shop, where it’s now used for lovely day sails on Lake Charlevoix.
 
Food has long played a central role in 141 family gatherings. Third generation cousins share memories of the four Perkins siblings (Dwight, Blair, Brad and Julia) and their spouses (Julie, David, Phyllis and Nick) lingering over meals in the dining room as talk turned to spirited discussions of politics, economics, travel, ancestry, history and art, flipping seamlessly between argument and laughter.
 
In more recent years, youngsters would be fed an earlier meal at 141, or at another family rental, then Phyllis Perkins would nourish grown-ups with an invariably exquisite feast – admiringly called “culinary bacchanals” and capped at the end by pie and enormous chunks of artisanal cheese hand-selected by Phyllis from Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor along the trip up from Scarsdale.
Each summer, pie superiority provides endless fodder for family debate: Friske’s or Great Lakes? Cherry, cherry berry, or apple caramel crunch?  A family sweet tooth also threads through generations. Had Julierette’s endured, a family epidemic of diabetes surely would have resulted, such was the collective lack of resistance to the former Bridge Street restaurant’s grilled cinnamon rolls. 
 
Each generation has come to embrace the idiosyncrasies of 141: A refrigerator requiring a shoulder push to seal, shower curtains that must be tucked in just so to prevent dining room waterfalls, an oven door always slightly ajar.  Guests at 141 inevitably develop expertise in toilet tank engineering: flappers, bulbs, flush valves and float arms.  Same with the menagerie of uninvited guests who also call the cottage home: bats, skunks, chipmunks, carpenter ants and racoons (once so bold as to prolifically relieve himself over dinner preparations from the space between the first and second floors.)  David Grumman keeps a lacrosse stick on his sleeping porch in case unwelcome flying critters attempt to interrupt his sleep. The cottage’s collection of baby equipment, cribs and toys used by generations at 141 likely constitutes a large portion of today’s U.S. Consumer Protection Agency’s current recall list.
 
Newcomers to 141 almost immediately notice the faded, dated and borderline psychedelic fabric on both living room couches, or nearly as garish knit sofa throws lovingly created to match by Julia Perkins (pro knitter) and her sister, Blair Perkins Grumman (non-pro). Younger generations continue to defend against any attempts to reupholster, only because of the daily reminder they provide of our beloved family matriarch, Midge Perkins, and her unique decorating style.
 
Rarely a summer passes without at least one memorable bike wipeout or tumble down the terrace hill, resulting in stitches, fractures, broken teeth, and scabs. Edith and Fiona Husman, daughters of Eleanor Grumman and Michael Husman, lead fourth generation frequent flyer points at Charlevoix Hospital’s emergency room.  They follow third generation traditions set by Caleb Perkins in rolling, as a baby in his carriage, from 141 down the hill straight into the street below – unscathed and unaware - and Cornelia Grumman, at age 4, lighting her cherry dress afire with a sparkler.
 
Littered throughout the Perkins-Grumman family are engineers, architects and tinkerers, evidence of which can be seen inside and outside 141, including the homemade King Pong table (ping pong, but bigger) on the side of the house that has been the gathering spot for family tournaments – usually dominated by Noah Grumman, Roy and Susanne’s son, but with emerging competition from Cornelia (& Jim Warren’s) sons, Blair and Eliot. There’s the self-watering flower basket irrigation system created by Roy, as well as his game that challenges kids and grown-ups to guide metal model airplanes along a string and onto the landing deck of a two-foot aircraft carrier set out in the yard.
 
The original name given to the house by first owners, the Dissettes, was Mapleshade, but over the years we’ve lost both maples and shade from the back of the house and now are down to a single maple tree. In recent years we’ve embarked on a tree planting blitz thanks to Roy and Eleanor Grumman, mainly to try to cool the back of the house from the blazing afternoon sun.
 
Over the years we’ve happily welcomed many new family members who breathe new vitality and decibel levels to the Belvedere and, during reunion weeks, comprise a substantial percentage of Gang attendance. In November 2003, we also lost Blair Perkins Grumman after a six-year battle with cancer. Elder Blair was a lover of music, politics, family and laughter, and held on just long enough to welcome her namesake grandson, Blair Grumman Warren, into the world in Chicago before passing two days later. Her presence holding court on the front porch of 141, her curiosity about every family member and every world issue imaginable, remains to this day.