CLICK FOR LARGER PHOTO The boathouse at Sleeping Bear Point. My wife and I were on our way to the Sleeping Bear Point Lookout Station for the first time since my father had died 40 years ago. My dad used to work on the point as a Captain of the surfboat rescue team. I remember when my mother, two sisters, and I used to visit him on the weekends. We would travel for over six hours to see him. He would always have so many stories to tell me and my sisters when we arrived. Each week there would always be something new. As I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath of the clean, cool Lake Michigan air. It smelled as I remembered it. I walked into the boathouse and it instantly brought back memories of long ago . . . . I looked at my dad as we got out of our wagon. I ran to him and laughed as he picked me up and spun me around. After dinner that night, my dad came into our room and sat down at the end of the bed. We all knew this meant story time and we eagerly awaited what was to come. He told us of the time when he almost froze to death on a rescue mission. He had been positioned on the bow of the surfboat and a wave caused the boat to flip over. My dad was thrown so far off the surfboat that he was afraid that the waves would take him farther and farther away from the boat. For a moment, the thought of drowning in the icy cold black water crossed his mind. But the will to live and the thought of never seeing his family again made him press on. His crew eventually turned the boat right-side-up and he was able to get back on the surfboat. He and his crew finished their rescue, saving six people. By that time, my two sisters were half asleep. I, however, was wide awake with visions of myself saving lives on rescue missions just as my father had. On the day after we arrived, my dad would usually take us kids into the boathouse to play on the rigs. I was always the captain of the boat. My dad taught us how to properly throw lines out to shipwrecked victims as well as other techniques used in performing rescues. We always headed back home on Sunday morning. It was a hard to leave our dad every week, knowing that it could be the last time we ever saw him. Being a part of the surfboat rescue team was always a dangerous job and it required the kind of skill, bravery, and will power that my father had. I was proud to be his son . . . . The gulls on the beach nearby flew over my head as I came out of my day dream. I realized how vividly I am able to remember those days. I walked out of the boat house after giving it one last glance. I'll always have special memories of Sleeping Bear Point and my father; the Captain of the surfboat rescue team.

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