A Freighter View for Two

by

Homes

“We’re simple people with a simple dream. We wanted to live by the Lake,” says Denise Maronen.

The dream of Denise and her husband, Greg Maronen, echoes with familiarity for all who are drawn to the freshwater shores.

Unlike many, though, they stuck to the dream over the years and made a home on the Keweenaw Peninsula into a reality.

In the end, it came down to divine timing – no stretch for this couple. Their own relationship taught them about matches made in heaven. Greg, nicknamed “Two-Ply” for his solid presence on the high school football field, has been pals with Denise since she was 17, but nobody, least of all these longtime buddies, thought of them as future spouses. At least not until Greg left the Copper Country in 1980 to work in Colorado. “I went out to Five Mile Point and cried all day,” says Denise.

In 1989, she headed west to work as a registered respiratory therapist, and with another goal in mind:

“I went out there to bring him home.”

In 1990, the couple threw a memorable Keweenaw wedding. They returned west with a game plan for getting back to the Keweenaw.

Using strategic real-estate purchases, they first parlayed a house in Colorado into a house in Menominee, Michigan. Closer to a Lake Superior home, but still not on the shores. They kept up the search.

“We’d looked high and low – south shore, L’Anse, anywhere on the Lake,” says Greg.

Others were losing faith.

On May 12, 2003, home to celebrate her dad’s birthday, Denise recalls his fatherly advice. “He said, ‘I hate to say this, but you have to give it up, kid.’”

“You’re wrong, Dad,” Denise respectfully disagreed. “Only God knows where it is, but there’s a place for us and when we find it they’ll only sell it to us.”

Less than one month later, on June 6, came the kind of call you might expect in a small town.

Their friend, now neighbor, Marilyn Isaacson heard about a cottage for sale after the death of the owner, an elderly woman named Dorothy, who was the mother-in-law of Marilyn’s friend Linda.

“I wrote a prayer for coming home, sight unseen,” Denise says.

Before entering the house for the first time, Denise told Linda that if she felt they were the people to take care of Dorothy’s cottage, “then God will clear the way.”

Linda responded with dream-come-true words: “I couldn’t sell to anyone but you.”

By June 27, Denise and Greg had the key … and a little secret.

Denise called her dad to ask if he and her mom could bring sub sandwiches from Copper Harbor out to the Lake. He assumed they were at the Isaacsons … until Denise gave him their new address.

Today, Denise’s prayer-poem hangs framed with the couple’s first-glimpse photo of the cottage in their favorite room, a window-lined sun porch perched above Lake Superior. The cozy inverted L-shaped porch offers four-season comfort, thanks to 15 new exterior windows and a new interior picture window between living room and porch. Interior side panes admit Lake breezes to the house on hot days and warm the porch nesting spot from the inside on chilly ones.

Greg named it Freighter View. He was rooting through the Isaacsons’ driftwood pile when he found a piece that looked exactly like a freighter. “My stepdad used to sail the lakes.”

“So that’s why Greg is such a freighter hound,” adds Denise.

Speaking of hounds, this home’s décor features two adorable Shih-Poos, Brandy Mae and April Mae, who demand and receive the affection that’s clearly their due. Each morning, Greg carries them downstairs from the master bedroom overlooking the Lake.

“When the sun sets, you can run up the stairs and look out of our bedroom window and watch it set again,” Denise says.

The sun porch, as chock-full of treasures as any pirate’s chest, offers a cozy couch perfect for napping, a comfy seating area and a telescope aimed at the main attraction. “You can see the white bellies of the fish flashing in the sun when they’re hauling the nets in,” Greg says.

While Greg and Denise want to keep the character of the house, they also have added a few comforts.

“During our first year, we had the kitchen woodstove, the fireplace and a tiny gas stove in the living room. No insulation.”

Creating a true year-round abode began with a detached 21⁄2-car garage close to the road. “We built that, with a storage loft, before the foundation because we wanted to gradually start moving things home,” Denise explains. “Once we bought the place, we moved home within two years. We couldn’t stand to be away any longer.”

Excavating a foundation was drastic, but necessary. Denise, who couldn’t relocate as quickly as Greg, was overwhelmed when she first saw the dirt mountains rimming the house.

“I cried.”

The upheaval led to another major improvement. Greg, with Denise’s blessing, added a concrete patio and steps in front of the home. “It was already cleared, the perfect time to do it,” he says.

A propane hot-water furnace, dining nook, laundry room and back porch rounded out initial renovations of the two-bedroom, one-bath abode. Through it all, Freighter View retains the simple charm of a modest circa-1930s cottage with a majestic view.

“We’re still researching (the era),” says Denise. Ditto for square footage. “We’ve never measured. It’s a dollhouse, small and perfect for us. And two less toilets to clean than my last house!”

The most recent improvement is the new roof completed in early summer 2014, when workers had a stellar view of the icebreaker procession on its way to Duluth.

When the Lake warms up, Denise enjoys floating with the loons, and guests are welcome to join her on Freighter View’s fleet of inner tubes. Beachcomber Greg revels in repurposing whatever Mother Superior brings to their stretch of agate-strewn, sand-rippled beach, accessed down a steep stairway. Replacing the original riveted iron steps with their heavy bolts and weathered canvas slip-strips isn’t on the fix-it list. “They keep people safe because you have to go slow,” notes Denise.

Greg calls it “the stairway to heaven.” The bottom steps are sometimes buried in sand kicked up by storms. In winter, the entire structure is engulfed by snow. Neighbors work together to clear their common circular driveway.

The stairway remains inaccessible until spring, but the Lake can be seen from the house all winter. “Sometimes you’re in a snow globe,” Denise says. “Sometimes out on the Lake there are ice mountains with water pouring over, like diamonds and rust.”

In all seasons, Greg waxes poetically, “wildlife abounds on the earth and in the air.” A fox family visits each spring, birds alight at the feeders and bats inhabit his elaborately stacked woodpile. The couple goes through about six cords of wood each winter, most in the repurposed 1930s Sears & Roebuck incinerator in the kitchen, although the massive Mohawk stone fireplace, the living room’s focal point, receives its fair share. Outfitted with generously proportioned couch and chairs, the perpetually shady room invites lolling on a summer night or hibernating on a frigid winter day.

Denise loves to cook and likes the easy-to-reach ease of the galley-style kitchen. “A lot of good food gets made here.”

Dorothy’s cupboards and sink remain; they’re part of the cottage’s character. Denise jokes that the blue-and-gray color scheme is homage to Calumet High School, but the actual intent is to showcase her favorite “Blueberry Vine” Salmon Falls stoneware.

They installed wood laminate flooring in the kitchen and adjacent dining nook, which is the perfect space for intimate dinners or a buffet station for larger parties like the Maronens’ locally famed annual summer bash.

Outdoor entertaining and kick-off-your-shoes comfort is a mainstay of Freighter View hospitality. Denise keeps piles of towels on hand with hoses at the ready at both entrances for rinsing sandy feet.

A stash of pretty quilts, afghans and throws outside is, she says, “for those starry nights when you don’t want to go in yet but you’re getting chilly.”

They’ve furnished the original deck with rustic log tête-à-têtes – tables with attached seating. For upkeep, Greg favors a product called Sikkens, traditionally for boat woodwork, instead of varnishes. Railings and trim are touched up yearly; the flooring every few years.

“It costs about $37 a gallon, but it’s well worth it,” he says. The touchup brings out a rich brown on the pine-planked back porch with its cheery flower boxes and driftwood sculptures.

The Maronens relied on local knowledge and neighbors’ referrals to choose craftsmen and contractors. Tony Burcar Excavation of Hubbell did the foundation. Doug Kesti Construction of Calumet did the roof, windows and much of the interior. Kalcich Construction of Calumet, with neighbor Tim Gasperich, handled the laundry room and garage.

“Doug and his boys do all my interior work,” says Greg. “He uses good materials, he’s reasonable and he does the job like he’s doing it for his own place.”

The couple isn’t joking when they say they rarely go anywhere these days.

“Why we would need to?” asks Greg. “Everything is here.”

Let This Be The One (A Prayer for Coming Home)

Let this be the one, dear Lord –

let this be the one.

A place at home for Greg and I

to watch the setting sun.

A place for friends and family

to come and share our dream.

A place where faith and love shine through

and answered prayers are seen.

Let this be the home, dear Lord –  where Greg and I, one day

can see the fruits of our hard work and finally, one day, stay.

Let this be the place, dear Lord – on Lake Superior’s shore …

where Greg and I can share our lives

with You, forever more.

– Denise Maronen, June 7, 2003

Freelance writer and editor Cyndi Perkins can testify to the strength of their friend Two-Ply’s telescope. He once phoned her and husband, Scott, when they were several miles offshore in their sailboat to report that he could see she was reading a book in the cockpit and Scott was standing at the bow.