the little church on the hill
Last week on one of the days when it was not winter in my little town, despite my sister's warning about wolves, I ran up to the little church on the hill. This was after running about a mile which took me a little ways out of town on US 45 - as far as I dared go, past the Michigan Dam and the site of now closed mines, back past the current Methodist church, and up Price's hill where we used to sleigh ride during the long winter months which stretched from October through May. The road to the little church begins at the top of Price's hill and only snowmobilers go there in the winter time.
On the day I decided to run up there, most of the snow was gone, but replaced with mud and the usual deep ruts kept me watchful. It's a rocky terrain for anyone but especially one like me who broke a leg the year before so I was careful to watch where I stepped. I didn't really care if I got my running shoes muddy but I didn't want to twist an ankle. It was peaceful running up there and I wasn't scared at all. At the beginning of the road, there's an old cemetery called "the Rose cemetery". Unfortunately it is not kept up and many of the tombstones are tipped over and the entire area is overgrown. There's a lot of nice tombstones with names of people who have died many years ago, but whose ancestors probably still are around - some of the names are familiar. There are interesting comments on the tombstones such as "He is not dead but in a deep sleep". When I wander through the ancient gravestones, I am always amazed at how many children are buried here - it was dangerous being born 100 years ago without vaccines, or antibiotic - childbirth was often dangerous and fatal to the mothers as well.
The replica of the little Methodist church (pictured below) is up this road and to the left and up another even more primitive rutted road. It is not as far as it seemed when I was a kid and I have run up here many times over the years, usually with my friends "the Kimmies" who are a family of sisters whose names all begin with "K". When Kseniya was little she couldn't keep them all straight so she called them the Kimmies. If you go farther down the road and don't go up to the little church, you go to an area where my dad used to cut wood for us to burn in the winter time and an area where a reclusive old man named "Sixty-Nine" had a shack - never met him but he was a legend we all knew about. His real name, I found out, was Joe Anich. Wish I knew his story.
The little church is a replica of the original church built in 1854 that was blown over in a windstorm in 1947.
I took this picture on Easter Sunday, a few days after I had done the run by myself and didn't have my camera except for the one on my cell phone - which is not a smart phone. I took a picture with my phone and sent it to my sister who immediately responded " What are you doing way up there". "Sightseeing" I replied. Get out of there!" she said. Apparently there are wolves around but I have not seen one - and bears too. When I was a wayward teen, we often had parties involving beer kegs, up there as well. When snowmobiling wasn't as big as it is now (and as dangerous) we could ride our Skidoo up here and through the woods "to grandmother's house we'd go". On Easter Sunday, my brother and I walked with my sister's dogs and took this picture and then went through the woods to the site of my grandma's old house.
The day I ran up here, I hung out for a few minutes, looking at the little church and thinking about it's history.
Apparently there used to be sidewalks and houses all the way to this little church a long time ago. Rockland was a booming town with a lot of mines. The first telephone in Michigan was in Rockland - and Rockland had an opera house, a bank, and many other businesses to keep it flourishing. Now the population is only about 228 - it was about 500 when I was a kid and even more when these ladies were out picking berries - in 1859 2500 people lived here. Rockland was really a combination of three villages - Rosendale, Webster, and Williamsburg.
I don't know who these women are in this picture but it looks like they are picking berries - probably thimbleberries but maybe blackberries. You can see the wooden sidewalk that led into town.
Above is another picture of the original church, with some history. The original bell is still in the Methodist Church that exists. The original church in town burned down about 10 years ago, but they managed to salvage the bell.
Everyone who has ever lived in Rockland knows about the little church on the hill. Poems have even been written about it. I wish I knew more about it's history, and my little town at that time and the people in it.
I don't know who John Sullivan was but next time I am in the Rose Cemetery, I will look for the tombstone of Aline I wonder what he would think of the town now? All I know is that it is a special place for many of us who were lucky enough to grow up there. And it still welcomes me back each time I visit.
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| A few days before I ran up there, the road to the little church looked like this. |
On the day I decided to run up there, most of the snow was gone, but replaced with mud and the usual deep ruts kept me watchful. It's a rocky terrain for anyone but especially one like me who broke a leg the year before so I was careful to watch where I stepped. I didn't really care if I got my running shoes muddy but I didn't want to twist an ankle. It was peaceful running up there and I wasn't scared at all. At the beginning of the road, there's an old cemetery called "the Rose cemetery". Unfortunately it is not kept up and many of the tombstones are tipped over and the entire area is overgrown. There's a lot of nice tombstones with names of people who have died many years ago, but whose ancestors probably still are around - some of the names are familiar. There are interesting comments on the tombstones such as "He is not dead but in a deep sleep". When I wander through the ancient gravestones, I am always amazed at how many children are buried here - it was dangerous being born 100 years ago without vaccines, or antibiotic - childbirth was often dangerous and fatal to the mothers as well.
The replica of the little Methodist church (pictured below) is up this road and to the left and up another even more primitive rutted road. It is not as far as it seemed when I was a kid and I have run up here many times over the years, usually with my friends "the Kimmies" who are a family of sisters whose names all begin with "K". When Kseniya was little she couldn't keep them all straight so she called them the Kimmies. If you go farther down the road and don't go up to the little church, you go to an area where my dad used to cut wood for us to burn in the winter time and an area where a reclusive old man named "Sixty-Nine" had a shack - never met him but he was a legend we all knew about. His real name, I found out, was Joe Anich. Wish I knew his story.
The little church is a replica of the original church built in 1854 that was blown over in a windstorm in 1947.
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| This is what the replica looks like |
The day I ran up here, I hung out for a few minutes, looking at the little church and thinking about it's history.
Apparently there used to be sidewalks and houses all the way to this little church a long time ago. Rockland was a booming town with a lot of mines. The first telephone in Michigan was in Rockland - and Rockland had an opera house, a bank, and many other businesses to keep it flourishing. Now the population is only about 228 - it was about 500 when I was a kid and even more when these ladies were out picking berries - in 1859 2500 people lived here. Rockland was really a combination of three villages - Rosendale, Webster, and Williamsburg.
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| You can see the original church in the background. |
I don't know who these women are in this picture but it looks like they are picking berries - probably thimbleberries but maybe blackberries. You can see the wooden sidewalk that led into town.
Above is another picture of the original church, with some history. The original bell is still in the Methodist Church that exists. The original church in town burned down about 10 years ago, but they managed to salvage the bell.
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| The current Methodist Church with the old bell from the little church on the hill. |
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