April 21-24, 2006 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

October 20-23, 2006 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

Calling all Knitters

Leave it all behind! Split and Knit! Walk in. You'll be among friends.
Join us every second and last Wednesday of the month at Insel Haus. May to September 2006, 7 to 10 PM. October to December 2006, 5 to 8 PM.

Private Lessons & Workshops available by Yarn Dreamer, Christa Newhouse
Award Winning Teacher & Knitter. Call 231.634.7393 for appointment. Alpaca Yarns and Patterns Available.

Among Past Events

April 22-25, 2005 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

July 28-30, 2005 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Charlene Hatfield, A Stitch in Time, Howell, Michigan

October 21-24, 2005 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

April 23-26, 2004 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

July 24-30, 2004 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan. Workshop by Galina Alexandrovna Khmeleva teaching Orenburg lace knitting

October 22-25, 2004 Fiber Retreat on Bois Blanc Island with Joan Sheridan Hoover, Heritage Spinning & Weaving, Lake Orion, Michigan

For more information about these retreats click here

From Teddy Bear's Compilation: articles, papers, documents, book - 2005

"Under the table"

That's what Christa said. "It was happening under the table and the Grandma was guilty."
Wait a minute. The only thing happening under the table was an old hand feeding this old
hand. Me! Here's the picture. There was this great family visiting Insel Haus. Mom, dad, four
kids, dad's brother and a Grandma. Their rooms are upstairs so Kitchen #3 gets a lot of
attention. I mean, you wouldn't believe the dinner they were making! Even in the basement I
could tell you every course.

I was following these smells so I happened to be in the Great Room when the good news, the invitation was announced. They wanted Christa and Shelby for dinner! Hey, that doesn't sound right. I mean they wanted to serve Christa and Shelby. English! What a language! Let me straighten that out. They didn't want Christa and Shelby for dinner and they didn't want to
serve them. They wanted them as guests.

It's time and we're going upstairs . . . . the three of us, of course. Let me paint the scene.
Something out of Homes and Gardens, real Americana. We go up and with each step more
and more is revealed. It could have been a Norman Rockwell painting out of the Saturday
Evening Post. But this was the real thing. Christa was tearing up. And Grandma? Not a hair
out of place, dressed for dinner, the perfect lady. Christa and Shelby squeeze in, sit down at
the table. I may be a dog, but I'm no dummy. I've got Grandma figured out. I'm on the floor
under the table and next to her chair. Let me tell you how Christa describes what takes place. Grandma's expression never changes, but every so often her hand disappears under the table. What's she up to? As far as she was concerned the real dinner guest was Mister Bear. It was a feast!

Teddy Bear Newhouse, Resident Innkeeper and Marketing Manager

Remarkable Family Reunion - And More. October 2005

We know life is strange and mysterious. And on occasion events transpire that defy statistical probability and the imagination. It was just such an occurrence October 1st of 2005 that brought forth smiles, tears of joy, expressions of amazement.

Barbara Price of Harrison, Michigan, booked Dana's Paradise, the entire second floor of Insel Haus. This was to bring together members of the Price family for a long awaited reunion. Unbeknownst to Barbara, the entire first floor, Shelby's Paradise, had been booked by Phillip Rellinger of Gladwin, Michigan for a reunion of the Rellinger family.

October 1st arrived. It was an absolutely beautiful day. Members of the Price clan entered Insel Haus first. The hub bub of conversation filled the Great Room as they made themselves comfortable. The Mud room door opened, members of the Rellingers entered and the hub bub became a roar. Seven Price siblings and six Rellingers had been high school classmates! Among the group were men and women who had dated . . . and I believe seriously! The two matriarchs of the families, both octogenarians, were present. This was a reunion on top of a reunion. There was a sharing of high school memories and stories of where life had taken them in the intervening 30 to 40 years. That first evening was particularly unforgettable. A guitar was brought out. Songs were sung including an original serenade to a mother whose birthday was to be celebrated the next day.

This reunion at Insel Haus generated unforgettable family memories that would be told and retold for decades to come. As Innkeepers, we experience a variety of benefits. Hosting the Price and Rellinger families provided an opportunity for us to be present on an intensely happy occasion. This was a charged, elevating, unforgettable experience for us . . . strangers . . . who for one moment were caught up in the web of their lives.

Thank you, Michigan.

As a city boy I never knew that snow was white until my sojourn on Bois Blanc Island, or that a special kind of stillness could be so satisfying. This ecological jewel in the Straits of Mackinac is not for everyone. We who live on Bois Blanc Island, Michigan, have ventured off the beaten path. We chose to escape shopping malls, fast food restaurants, traffic, stress, urban sprawl and interact with nature on a daily basis.

For us, this is Eden. Islands have unique properties and Bois Blanc is no exception. A colony of herring gulls inhabits Snake Island, osprey feed at Mud Lake, nesting colonial water birds and migratory waterfowl visit and the area also has extensive old beaver workings. Upwards of thirty swans frequently entertain us. The Mixed Forest and North Shore areas provide habitat for several species of special concern, including the dwarf lake iris, bald eagle, and a population of Douglas’s hawthorn that is disjunctive from populations in the western U.S. The North Shore Natural Area also contains large, old growth hemlock and white pine. We enjoy sightings of many upland game birds, diurnal raptors, and cavity nesters.

Our abundant lakes and beaches invite shorebirds and waders and our marshes support many waterfowl species and passerines. The unforgettable sound of the loon echoes across the waters of an inland lake. On Bois Blanc, the island time forgot, we let the seasons dictate our mode of travel: cross-country skis, snowshoes, bicycle or shanks mare. The only sign of civilization may be an occasional vehicle moving along our twenty-five mile an hour country road. Bois Blanc promises unspoiled, undiscovered wilderness and spectacular views of swans, ducks, geese, loons and eagles against a backdrop of unbelievable sunsets. Bois Blanc delivers on that promise.

Thank you, Michigan.
 

Winter on Bois Blanc Island
   
Please accept a belated Happy New Year from Bois Blanc Island. I hope this finds you well, enjoying life, accepting what you can't change, and savoring the fullness of life.

I expect to be labeled one of the truly lucky ones. This is my second winter on the Island. Even when the weather is bad and that's not often, Bois Blanc is beautiful. Christa has (film) editing commitments so for the time being she's in Farmington Hills. Until she can join the winter set here Teddy Bear and I are holding down the fort. This is our first winter keeping Insel Haus open for guests and retreats.

What do folks do here in the winter time? There is a social scene! Loren and Marcia Gibbons had a great party in December. This time of year that means you bring another pair of shoes or slippers or do what I did - leave your boots in the mud room and move about in your stocking feet. Some of my neighbors were off the island during Christmas visiting family and friends elsewhere. Fifteen of us maintained the peace on BBI. We really succeeded! It WAS peaceful and quiet. Lee and Jack Iafrate had a small dinner party and when they found out I was by my lonesome (Insel Haus sleeps twenty!) they invited me. Meal was fantastic, conversation great - and I was sent home with a doggy bag that served to remind me of one of the reasons Jack married Lee. Their home was invaded again on New Year's Eve when everyone on the Island was invited to an end of the year party. Bring your own drink and a dish to pass. There were twenty of us! That translates to a passel of women to embrace at Midnight!

Meanwhile Teddy and I are enjoying winter on Bois Blanc. For Teddy Bear, who will be twelve in March, I offer this image as evidence of advancing age. Mick Kimball drove by the other day and reported seeing several deer running across our meadow with Teddy in pursuit - just loping along - and bringing up the rear - several more deer! Wish I had seen that line up! He knows he can't catch them. They know he can't catch them and all having a great time!!! I enjoy feeding the deer a mixture of corn and molasses. Haven't seen them drunk yet, but all seem to have a smile on their face. Or is that just my imagination?

Web sites and email . . . they're great especially at this time of year. Regular US mail is flown in only twice a week - Monday and Thursday - weather permitting. Victor Babcock brings the mail right to the house. Come to think of it, maybe that has something to do with the outstanding job he does plowing our long driveway. Like you and I, Teddy is a creature of habit. He knows Mondays and Thursdays, knows Victor's coming.

For a dog, he is truly amazing. I've noticed he gets some of his best ideas while being scratched. The other day while we were engaged in that pleasant past time he rolled over, looked up at me and that glazed look left his eyes, he was clearly becoming more focused and he said, "Shel", no one else calls me that, "Shel", he repeated, "Would you consider asking folks to join us in front of a roaring fire, either in the Living room or the Great room, and just  forget about that madhouse called town?" Love that dog!

The social scene on Bois Blanc really picks up during the winter. Sunday morning breakfast is served at different homes each week. Eggs and bacon at Clover and Joe Schlund, pancakes at theSchroka's and Loren and Marsha Gibbon had twenty of us . . the entire island! Louise and Gregg's log cabin is too small for entertaining so I offered Insel Haus. Folks gathered at our place, last Sunday, on the 30th. Louise and Gregg served a great breakfast and I just played the part of host. We had 32 guests! It's the ice bridge that made that number possible. We have a good tree line set up on the ice and several folks joined their relatives and friends for breakfast at Insel Haus. They spent the day on the island and then sped back across the ice to Cheboygan. Snowmobile and ice, that's not my favorite combination or mode of transportation. In fact, we haven't crossed that way in years.

You know, the weather has been very strange. It seems there's more snow in southeastern Michigan than on Bois Blanc. That's not a complaint just an observation. Wind chill the other night was a minus 21 degrees. But that was outside. Inside with a roaring fire it was great.

Last week Teddy and I flew off the island for a few days. As a Trustee of the Township Board I had to attend the Michigan Township Association annual meeting in Detroit. Teddy was excited. He pointed out that meant we could be with Christa for a few days. All too short, but wonderful! Teddy loves to fly and sit up front. However, our pilot, Dale Hoffman, won't let him. Says he can't keep his four feet off the controls!

When Ted isn't chasing deer he sometimes sits down and writes. Here's a piece that demonstrates his literary talent. You'll notice of course he sees everything from his nose to the ground perspective.

"I love it here. What dog wouldn't? Islands were made for us no matter what people say. Want space for running? We got it! Forest for hunting and surprises? Got that too. Never know what's around the next tree. Sleepin' in the afternoon sun? Can't beat that! And water! Old man Midas should have gold like we got water! There are dogs who think water's for drinking. They don't know the half of it. Walk on it in winter, swim in summer. What a life!

And Insel Haus! My folks think they run it. What they don't know is I check on everyone who comes in. So far they've all passed. They say I have a great disposition. True! I never met a person I didn't like. Visitors want to know if I'm a Malamute, Akita, or Collie? Fact is I'm all three. And that's cool. Now when it comes to dogs that's another story. Believe me, there are some I could do without.

Let me tell you about Shelby. He does have some peculiar habits. For example, he keeps running this survey. A regular Gallup! Says, some day he'll submit the results for an analysis. He asks adults and kids the samequestion. "I'll tell you this dog's first name. It's Teddy. You guess his second." The results are unbelievable! Nine out of ten adults answer, "Roosevelt!" Are they kidding? Look at me. Teddy Roosevelt? Go figure! The kids get it right though. Nine out of ten answer, "BEAR!" I've been sticking around for eleven years now. They play their cards right I'll hang in here a while yet. When you get right down to it Insel Haus is an interesting place. Never know who'll be coming through that door next."

Teddy Bear Newhouse

It's true, Teddy never mentions your name. I put that down to senior moments. He has many. Me? I reject the term "senior". However, I do have moments.

Until next time,

Shelby and Teddy
Insel Haus
Bois Blanc Island

During WWII the Armed Forces Radio Service brought a touch of home to US service men and women. It was created by the War Department in 1942 to improve troop morale.

Let me tell you how I got to Radio Tokyo. I'm really a very lucky guy . . . have been all my life. This is just one of many stories that attest to that. All troops entering the Pacific Theater or going home seemed to move through the 4th Replacement Depot at Zama, Japan. This had been the country's West Point. Now . . . my army records showed that during the last two years of high school I'd worked the night shift as an announcer at WJLB in Detroit, Michigan. 4,999 infantrymen left Zama for Hokkaido.

That rumor turned out to be true. But, I was pulled out, assigned to I and E, the Information and Education detachment. They needed someone to read the news each day over the camp's loudspeaker system. How's that for duty? Let me try to recreate what it was like at Zama. The winter of '45 was bitter. . .  really cold . . .  with a wind that cut right through you. About eight of us slept in a large room with windows that almost reached the ceiling and that was about ten feet high. The only heat came from a small coal stove provided by the U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps. Hard to believe, I know, but there had been a foul-up. A shipload of these stoves had arrived in Japan. Each one with a connection to a section of stovepipe to carry smoke out of the building. The stoves had arrived . . . the stove pipes were back in the States. With typical Yankee ingenuity GI's roamed the countryside scrounging for whatever they could find to get that smoke out.

Our army cots were placed in a circle . . . feet as close to the coal stove as possible. A measure of the cold can be found in how we prepared our cots for the night. First . . a layer of newspapers, then an army blanket, followed by your sleeping bag, covered by another blanket if you had it, and topped off by tying the arms of your overcoat to the foot of your cot. Crawl into the sleeping bag . . . zip up . . . and dream of home.

Of course, in comparison to GIs in foxholes this was like sleeping at the Hilton.

If you had a pass and got aboard a train you'd find the car packed with people . . . wall to wall. At only 5' 8 1/2 inches I was still head and shoulders over the average Japanese. As a member of the army of occupation I did have a concern that our former enemy could have driven a knife into me and I'd still be standing. But incidents of this type were very rare. Obedience and the herd instinct appeared to be among the controlling factors.

Incidentally, we were cautioned not to eat any Japanese food.

Someone in command at Zama decided a museum showing items describing Japanese culture would help the GI's pass the time as they waited to be processed. In the usual army fashion our I & E Lieutenant looked around for the most qualified member of our unit, someone steeped in the history, art, politics, culture of this country . . . to research and assemble artifacts for the museum.

I guess the fact that I was an 18 year old high school graduate who knew virtually nothing about the country qualified me . . . I got the assignment. Our commanding General signed a document I was to carry. It gave me permission to enter any home or building in or outside of the camp and to confiscate whatever I deemed appropriate for the museum.

At the risk of destroying my relationship with the General who, of course, didn't even know I existed . . . I just couldn't go into some poor farmer's home and take out one or more of his possessions. I couldn't do it. So instead, I went through every building on the grounds of this West Point of Japan, selected many items, and built the museum.

It didn't take long to discover WVTR and Radio Tokyo. I made the right contact . . . an interview and audition were arranged . . .and the 4th Replacement Depot couldn't argue with a request from GHQ . . . MacArthur's headquarters in Tokyo.

What was it like? Well, it certainly was too early for any American influence. This was Japan . . . the real Japan. Our fire bombing of their capitol had been very successful. The city was 60 to 65% destroyed. There was rubble everywhere.

I've got a picture of Jack Faulkner, another member of the WVTR staff and myself standing on the steps of the building that housed the station. That building was a survivor . . . it stood in downtown Tokyo . . in good shape. If memory serves me correctly it was within walking distance of the Emperor's palace. I don't mean the Dai Ichi building and GHQ . . . I mean the other Emperor. So I joined the WVTR staff . . . low man on the totem pole. The fact that I was able to move

up in seniority quickly had nothing to do with ability, but everything to do with the mad dash to get home . . . back to the states. People were scrambling to get out. Secretary of War Patterson had decreed the point system would be used to determine when you'd get to return and be discharged. Points were earned for time served overseas.

Our Program Director, Sgt. Hans Conried, was my immediate superior. Hans was a great guy to work for and with. He was a well known eccentric Hollywood personality. In the forties, prior to the advent of television, seats in the audience of radio shows were in demand. As a teenager visiting family in California I had been in a radio audience and seen Hans at work. The year was probably 1942. So, working with him in Tokyo was a real treat.

I can relate a great story about Hans arrival at the station when it was on the island of Leyte, in the Philippines. Let me digress a moment to tell you whereI picked up this story. It was in the announcer's lounge of WWJ, the NBC affiliate in Detroit. It must have been in the early fifties. I was a staff announcer. One of the station's newsmen, Carl Cederberg and I were discussing our experiences in the service. What I learned was really strange. I'd been following Carl around the world. He was with the army's station in the Philippines and was sent home when it moved to Tokyo. Picture this . . . Carl is on his way home and I join Radio Tokyo. He returned to his hometown, Bay City, Michigan and went to work at WBCM, the ABC affiliate. After my discharge, I acted on a few Lone Ranger shows. The program originated in Detroit. When Carl moved to WWJ I learned of the WBCM opening, got the job and spent a year at that station. A few years later I joined the WWJ staff . . . and for the first time, met Carl and discovered I'd been following him from WVTR to WBCM, to WWJ . . . . . . and we had the Hans Conried discussion. Carl said that when Hans arrived at the station on Leyte the staff was baffled, unsure of how to handle him. What could they do with this strange Hollywood actor? The decision was made to let him try the morning show . . the wake-up call . . . spinning records. That didn't last long! His show generated a tremendous uproar! Hans loved classical music and was a devoted fan of Gilbert and Sullivan. He fed the GIs a morning disc jockey show of Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart and the Pirates of Penzance!

After some headscratching they did come up with an assignment that fit Hans to a T . . reading the comics to the troops!

I don't remember his ever going on the air in Tokyo. I guess as Program Director he didn't have to. I do remember him sitting on his bed doing yoga exercises. Hans was also an art collector. . . a genuine connoisseur. Tokyo in 1945 presented a great opportunity to pick-up unique pieces .

From time to time we received rations of beer and cigarettes. Since I used neither I could give my beer to my buddies and use the cigarettes as barter. I'm reminded of this almost every day. Our studio boasts a beautiful five foot painting on silk. It captures the image of a tiger moving down a jungle path. I first saw this work of art on the Ginza or what had been the Ginza, the Rodeo Drive of downtown Tokyo. There was no sidewalk . . . no street . . . just rubble. This artist had cleared a small area and laid his painting down with pieces of concrete holding each corner. I bought that work of art for two cartons of cigarettes.

Just about everyone on the WVTR staff held a lower rank than their job should have called for. So we all had this personal beef with our Commander-in-Chief, General Douglas MacArthur. We served as part of GHQ. And since we had no Table of Organization, whenever an opening in grade occurred which meant an opportunity to advance in rank . . . that translates to more pay. . . . we were by-passed and the opening given to other units. When I was Chief Announcer I made an effort to get GHQ's attention. I scheduled myself on the sign-off shift for a full week and read the standard closing copy of the broadcast day placing extraordinary emphasis on GENERAL Douglas MacArthur. This is PRIVATE Shelby Newhouse signing off.

That reading never generated a response from GHQ, but it did produce evidence of how popular WVTR was with the troops. They listened right up to the moment we went off the air. This became abundantly clear to me sometime later . . . on my flight back to the States. Each leg of the journey ended on an island . . . like Guam and Johnson. Before getting back on board there was the inevitable roll call. When they reached my name the assembled GI's would sing out, "That's PRIVATE Newhouse" !!!

Many of our shows originated from the same studio used by Tokyo Rose. I recall a truly memorable broadcast that seemed particularly appropriate for that studio. One of our daily chores was to read the news to stations down the line. We'd read very slowly, repeating every line so the news could be typed or written down by hand and later read by someone at that station. They had no recording capability at the receiving end. On this particular day the assignment fell to an announcer who was suffering from the GI's! In some quarters its called dysentery. At one point in the broadcast he made an executive decision. Moved a waste basket over . . sat on it . . . and, whenever nature called, he just turned off the mike.

We probably could make acetate recordings in 1945, though I'm not certain about that. But, '45 - '46 must have predated wire recorders and magnetic tape was further down the road.

You know, we had a marvelous shoulder patch worn just above the Eighth Army insignia. Mine disappeared over the years. I wish I had it now. It was curved to fit the top of your shoulder . . . sewed with gold thread against a black background. I believe it said Armed Forces Radio Service . . . but it was so far back . . . I'm not sure.

My Honorable Discharge showed I'd earned four decorations: the Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal, Army of Occupation Medal, World War II Victory Medal and the Good Conduct Medal. At that rate if I'd only served another six months I'd have looked like Audie Murphy.

These have been some of my recollections . . . memories of WVTR . . . of Radio Tokyo . . . 1945-46.

After many years of working in front of the microphone and camera I concentrated on producing, writing and directing films and later, videotapes. Today my credentials include a national EMMY for an hour long PBS documentary, three Detroit Emmys, a Gold Medal from the New York International Film Festival, Two Cine Golden Eagles, a Landers Award for an African-American history film used by the Department of Defense in its race relations course, and many other honors, awards, and symbols of recognition.

Some of them earned.

This is Shelby Newhouse . . . Private . . . signing off.

January 14, 2004

Teddy embraces the snow. Proof there must be something in the genes. After all, he is part Malamute. By God he loves snow . . . is mesmerized by it!. He wants to stay in the snow, play in the snow, sleep in the snow. He's never so alive as now.
I say, "Let's feed the deer." Teddy Bear turns and takes off at top speed stopping only when he reaches the spot where I deposit corn each morning. He needs a measure of routine, certainty, familiarity . . . just as you and I. Maybe it affirms our presence. We are here. This is real and not a dream.

It's 6 AM. The fire, banked the night before, has been brought back to life. Now, mother nature calls. A man, woman or child dressed to combat the bitter frosty cold leaves the protection of Insel Haus. Walks to the out house . . . placed not too far nor too close. The cold let's you know you're alive. Inside it's probably still too dark to read the Sears and Roebuck catalogue. In summer months this location demonstrates a certain measure of practicality. Those folks knew what they were doing. This outhouse sits in the midst of lilac bushes.
Teddy Bear may or may not have figured out the meaning of the structure just a few feet to the right.. It was once a dog house and suggests the hardy canine of that generation spent cold nights curled up inside. Teddy might do well in that environment, but he'll never get the chance to find out! I want him in Insel Haus. . . inside with me. He'll just have to put up with two fireplaces and five one thousand gallon tanks of LP gas. Let's face it. We're both products of this age.

January 16, 2004 6:43 p.m.
Sunset - A view with a room. The Veranda.

January 8, 2004

Woke up this morning to find that slice of ice and snow creeping further off shore. Six degree cold last night may have something to do with this phenomenon.. Asked Teddy Bear to come inside . . . he dances in circles to let me know the Malamute in him says NOT YET! It's GREAT out here!

January 6, 2004

I love it here. What dog wouldn't? Islands were made for us no matter what people say. Want space for running? We got it! Forest for hunting and surprises? Got that too. Never know what's around the next tree. Sleepin' in the afternoon sun? Can't beat that!` And water! Old man Midas should have gold like we got water! There are dogs who think water's for drinking. They don't know the half of it. Walk on it in winter, swim in summer. What a life!