Traverse City Record-Eagle

Life

Related Photos

June 2, 2009

Bruce Catton Historical Award Essays

Benzie County high school history students wrote essays for the Bruce Catton Historical Awards, honoring the author who won the 1954 Pulitzer Prize for A Stillness at Appomattox. His memoir, Waiting for the Morning Train, is about growing up in Benzonia. The awards were presented at an April ceremony. First place went to Jordan Lentz; second place went to Jessica Meek; and third place was awarded to Jake Jensen.

Football team breaks curse in wintry game

By Jordan Lentz

I detected the smell of hot dogs and popcorn wafting in the air, notifying everybody around that there was a football game about to begin. I could hear the announcer's voice echo through town like an emergency alert, calling off the starting lineup for the Bay City All Saints Cougars. As they were being called, one by one they charged onto the field, claiming ownership of both name and number.

It was 1 o'clock Saturday afternoon, under a breezy autumn sky; the day was cold, it rained and snowed. An observer could look at almost any spectator and expect to see hats, gloves, jackets, some blankets and even umbrellas.

They all exhaled the same white cloud of smoke from the cold temperature.

We stood in the end zone with our Under Armor and pads to keep us warm, but we didn't care; in our eyes it was a perfect day for Frankfort Panther Football in beautiful Benzie County.

We had longed for this day with great anticipation all season, a regional championship game on our own Lockhart Field.

The field looked amazing; the end zones were checkered with our school colors, purple and gold.

Our crowed roared with purrple and gold Panther pride.

I remember the crowd looked like a hurricane of those two colors, waving, yelling and jumping around frantically. It was the loudest I had ever heard the crowd in my life.

That made it clear that the Cougars were in Panther Country now.

I remember a couple of my teammates, Devin Gokey and Brian Nostrandt, doing their traditional handshake in the end zone before, "At center, No. 64, Brian Nostrandt" was called and he shot down the line, getting high fives and slaps on the pads as he went by.

The crowd exploded in noisy excitement when Brian ripped through the banner at the end of the tunnel of fans. After the starting lineup was called, the rest of us "broke down" our pregame huddle with, "Team on three ... one, two, three, TEAM!" and rushed out to our awaiting teammates, where we all jumped around like mad men. Out of the roaring and yelling of about 30 Frankfort Panthers, senior Max Banktson's voice boomed "Breakdown" and we all came down with our upraised fists, simultaneously yelling.

We lined up for the kick return and the game started, my heart pounding, and adrenaline rushing through my body like a tsunami.

I was nervous; if we won, it would be the first time Frankfort had made it past a regional championship since 2000, and I was excited.

The game seemed to end just as it began; the final quarter was slowly ticking out the time. With less than a minute left on the clock, I watched our offense assume the victory formation: We took a knee, signifying that we had the lead and another play was unnecessary. That's when I fully realized that it was all over and we had won. Standing on the sidelines, I started waving my hands in the air to the crowd, signaling them to go crazy. We had done it; we had broken the "regional curse" and we were on our way to the Superior Dome in Marquette for the state semifinal game.

Our offensive line coach, Coach Pratley, had a favorite saying: "LND (Leave No Doubt)" and I believe that's exactly what we did. I believe that we played one of our best games of our season that afternoon.

Since we had started our season in the steaming heat Aug. 9, we wanted to make ourselves better every day, giving everything we had, and even though we didn't make it to the state finals, I believe we accomplished a great season when we beat the Bay City All Saints Cougars 33-7 on our own Lockhart Field and broke the curse.

Jordan Lentz is a junior at Frankfort-Elberta High School.

First glimpse of Frankfort hooks me

By Jessica Meek

It was a bright and beautiful day. The smell of summer was in the air. The smell of fresh flowers and barbecues lingered all around me.

As we got closer, I could almost smell Lake Michigan and its beauty. We had been driving for about two hours and, for a second, I couldn't see anything. The sun was glaring in my eyes, and as we drove over the big hill a feeling came over me. I don't know if it was excitement or if I was nervous, but as soon as I saw those two lighthouses over the road welcoming us into a town called Frankfort, I knew this would be a great day.

We finally arrived at the Frankfort marina; it was beautiful, like nothing I had ever expected. The sun was glimmering off the water and for a moment all the noise of the cars and people seemed to drift away and all I could hear were the waves crashing up against the boats and the boats knocking up against the docks.

My mom had told me that there was a great beach around here and told me to go check it out. I started down the main street, checking out all the stores. There three ice cream shops, some good-smelling restaurants, a few clothing stores and, of course, tourist shops. I liked it. It seemed to be a picture-perfect town, like the ones on TV or on the cover of a magazine.

I finally arrived at the beach. I gasped and, for a moment, my legs went weak and I had to stop. I stared for a moment because it took my breath away. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It looked never-ending, like an ocean I couldn't see the other side of. There was a long pier with a white lighthouse at the end. I could tell people were having the time of their lives. I jumped off the boardwalk and plopped into the warm, soft wand. I continued down to the water, and the closer I got, the better I could hear and smell the water and wind. The wind kind of whistled as it blew across the sand, and the water crashed upon the beach and against the pier, smelling fresh, as if it was my first breath of air. People were laughing and joking and splashing in the water. There were so many people there.

I lay out there all day, tanning and swimming. After a few hours, I had realized it had gotten late and not as many people were there. I put my sweater on, but I still sat there enjoying the peace. More people came back, but with blankets and cameras. I wondered what was going on, and then I looked back at the water and the sky and I realized why everyone was there. Yes, I have seen beautiful things before, and I did think that this beach was amazing, but nothing could compare to this. The sky was stained with pinks, oranges, blues and purples. It looked like a famous painting by Leonardo de Vinci or Vincent van Gogh. I didn't know what to do or think. I just stared as the huge ball of fire slowly disappeared into the dark blue crevasse.

I felt as if I belonged there. It was so relaxing and comforting. I felt like nothing could go wrong. How could anything go wrong if there was such beautiful scenery as this? I knew I would be able to come back only on weekends, though that is where I would spend them. Still only two days a week didn't seem like enough time. Everyone I talked to that lived here said it was so boring and didn't appreciate it at all. Little did I know I would be moving here in about three years or so, and I still appreciate it as much as I did that day. I just feel lucky to get to see it any time I want.

Jessica Meek is a junior at Frankfort-Elberta High School.

Challenges to race ends up tragically

By Jake Jensen

The scent of nature sleeping under a blanket of snow filled my nostrils as I inhaled deeply the cold January air those four years ago. I was 13 at the time, and I was hanging out with my stepbrother and cousins at Crystal Mountain. All we did that day was race each other down the slopes and tell jokes, most of which were not appropriate, but we didn't care. The sounds of that day were of joy, mirth and excitement. People laughed, socialized and talked about their latest runs down the powdery slopes of the mountain.

Tyler, my stepbrother, challenged me to a race down Little Vincent and I eagerly accepted it. We rode the lift up and watched the skiers and snowboarders ride down on the snow. When we made it to the top, we went over to the beginning of the slope and strapped ourselves in. As I looked down the run, I saw the jumps and rails the employees of the mountain had installed. Without hesitation, we began our race, not knowing what was going to happen.

I was "hyper" that day and very courageous at that moment. I decided I would "grind" a rail, so I jumped and landed on it and slid about halfway down. That's when I messed up. I went off-balance and slid off the rail, wiping out. My hand had struck the rail very hard. What I didn't realize at the time was that I had cracked it right there and then.

Ignoring the pain, I stood back up and tried to catch up with my stepbrother. When we got down to the lift, he asked me if I was alright. I told him the pain had died down fairly quickly on the way down the slopes, so we decided to wait again until our next race down that run. We headed into the lodge to take a quick break where I examined my now-swollen wrist. Tyler said that it looked pretty bad (that was putting it mildly). I shrugged it off and said to him, "I'll put ice on it later when we go home." My cousin interrupted us by running up to us and challenging us to a race down one of the easier slopes.

This I was able to handle just fine. I made it to the lift long before any of them were even halfway down the mountain.

As I waited for them I touched my wrist, only to feel the searing pain build up in it. I shook my head and sighed, telling myself not to worry about it, that I had had worse injuries, which is true. My eyes wandered up the flashing hills of snow and ice and I saw my slowpoke family coming down. They told me my speed was about as fast as my mother's, and I told them she couldn't even keep up with me.

An hour later, we decided we'd try racing down Little Vincent one more time. I told them I was going to make the grind this time and then we'd get ready to go home. Well, I wasn't as hyper anymore as I had wasted most of my energy earlier and wasn't feeling too confident. I strapped myself to the board and looked down hesitantly at the rail that was to be my target of domination. I didn't even wait for the others.

The wind rushed past me, almost as if it was trying to stop me, almost as if it knew what was going to happen to me. The ice feel of it against my cheeks felt as if it could've have frozen my face completely. Ignoring it, I sped up faster and nailed the rail. I didn't make it as far as I did before and I wiped out. The same wrist was struck and I heard it break.

Without waiting, I called out for help and was immediately taken care of. I waited for my mother to stop shrieking at me when she entered the medical room and I told her what had happened. The pain wasn't too much, but it sure wasn't pleasant. I'll remember this day easily ... because my mother won't let me forget it.

Jake Jensen is a junior at Frankfort-Elberta High School.

Text Only