One of the things aobutr getting older is suffering loss. As you age, you lose people, either through death, circumstances, geography or just life. The person I considered my best friend, the best man at my wedding nearly thirty years ago, is someone that I haven’t seen or spoken to in more than a decade. We didn’t have a falling out, there is no animosity. He now lives in another state and there’s little opportunity, or frankly little reason, for us to connect. We’ve lost each other to … life.

As you go through life, the loses pile up. Grandparents, parents, siblings … friends, family, colleagues, pets … you get the picture. They all hurt, and each of those losses requires grief, mourning. We understand that. We all go through it.

What is a little harder to grasp is dealing with the loss of things. I’m particularly focused on the buildings that once played a significant park in my life that are not longer there. I’ll explain what brought this up in moment. As I’ve mentioned previously, I was born and raised in the small Upper Peninsula community of Rock. There are several buildings that played a huge role in my growing up that are vacant, transformed or just not there anymore. Most significant in the last category is my childhood home. The address I got just before I started kindergarten and held on to through college, no longer exists. There’s a small factory next to my childhood home and a handful of years ago, well after my parents had passed, it was sold and torn down to accommodate factory storage. The school building, where I, and so many others spend K-12 is now a building materials store. You may have seen their funny TV ads, dancing and singing in the building where I spent my formative years. Larson’s General Store, where my beloved grandmother worked, is also a memory. (Although truth be told, I still dream about that place). Cliff’s Barber shop, the Rock Co-op, the Catholic Church in Rock … the list goes on.

In the mid 1980s my mom and dad bought the only restaurant in town … Karen’s Kitchen, and renamed it Mary and Red’s Restaurant. They owned and operated it often with my younger brother and sister for nearly 30 years. My parent’s are gone, but the building in which they put so much of themselves still stands … vacated. I was surprised, shocked actually, when I saw a picture of it on a Facebook Page titled “I grew up in Michigan.” (I’ve printed the picture here).

This recent wave of nostalgia began about a week ago when I saw on Facebook that the House of Ludington Hotel, in Escanaba, was on fire. To anyone who spent any time in the Escanaba area (Rock is about 25 miles north), The House of Ludington was at the very least, some part of your history.

And it was a pretty big part of mine. One might argue that had it not been for the House of Ludington, I very well may not be here. You see, my mother graduated from Rock High School (as did her mother and two of her three children). After she graduated in 1954, she traveled about 50 miles north to attend what was then called the UP Beauty Academy — a school of cosmetology in Marquette. Her first job as a professional beautician was working in the beauty shop in the House of Ludington. The hotel was a big deal back then with a restaurant, bar, beauty shop …etc. My mother lived in a boarding house with a couple of friends from Rock who had all gone to the “big city” of Escanaba to make their fortunes, or whatever. As it turns out, staying in a room down the hall from the “Rock Girls,” was a young Coastguardsman from Battle Creek. He and Mary Salmi met over a Platters record, fell in love and the rest … as they say.

So you could make the case that had it not been for the House of Ludington, and my mother’s employment there, Mary and Larry might have never been.

Throughout the years, the House of Ludington played an interesting part in my life and that of many of my friends. First dates, proms, wedding nights were all experienced there. It was a watering hole for many of us involved with Players de Noc, the community theatre in Escanaba. My friends Suzi and Lynn, along with others, performed cabaret-type acts there (Although I never did catch any of their performances).

And then there was a memorable New Year’s Eve in the early 80s when my Friends Greg, “Peaches” and I just happened to be abandoned by our dates at the same time and ended up having an impromptu “Boys Night Out,” at the House. It was a blast and probably a lot more fun than we would have had if our original plans had transpired.

These types of memories are not unique to Escanaba and the House of Ludington. I’m sure folks can recite similar stories about the Douglass House here in Houghton, Ishpeming’s Mather Inn, The Dickinson Inn in Iron Mt. (which has been a parking lot since the 80s), and Marquette’s Landmark Inn, originally the Hotel Northland. At one time every larger community in the UP had one of these grand hotels which were social hubs in days gone by. Some still are … others not so much.

As you might expect it was with sadness that I watched the news coming out of Escanaba over the past week. A part of my history went up in smoke as well. It’s not know what will happen to the House of Ludington. The extent of the damage is still being assessed. It could be rebuilt into the “Gem of Escanaba” that it once was. But probably not.

Whatever the future holds for that grand old building, the past still lives on in my memory and the memories of many others.