The House That Joe Built

The sign out front reads “Sale Pending”. It’s a day we all knew and feared would eventually come.

A while back our snowbirds put their house up for sale as each year their time in Florida became more and more precious. 501 Riverview sat mostly unfilled for the next few years, partly because of the down turn in the housing market that came at about the same time as Grandpa’s retirement from Security State Bank. Those of us that grew to love the ranch on the river knew that the market would only stave off the inevitable for so long. Eventually we would have to let go and turn the page to a new chapter in our family’s lives. So it appears, that new chapter starts now. They’re moving out in March.

Saying goodbye to the House That Joe Built was hard for me.

* It’s the place where I mowed the lawn for seasons on end in exchange for fifteen dollars and all the lemonade a grandson could wish for.

* It’s the place where I filleted walleyes at the end of the dock amongst the mosquitoes I knew on a first name basis.

* Grandma’s was where I reported on consequence after being charged with grand theft auto for “borrowing” my stepmother’s Camaro to “whip” the mean streets of Warroad.

* Joe’s was where I rented the Honda 3 wheeler but never made good on my tab. Don’t ever remember changing the oil or paying for gas but I do remember wheelies for days!

* 501 Riverview is the most dependable place I know on Earth for a warm meal and warmer hugs.

* Birthday pictures from the deck or Prom pictures in front of the fireplace – a lot of life’s milestones took place on that side of the railroad tracks.

* For as long as I can remember, the basketball hoop there comes with one simple instruction – Insert Ball HERE. >

* In all of those years I have never showered on the first floor – always in the basement. And each time, it reminded me of Duke and Greg and the smell of a Mink Ranch.

* Great Grandma Fox always called it a “davenport”. Whatever she called it, I always saw it as a great place for an afternoon nap with Redford. Later when Doozie claimed “The House That Joe Built” as his home, if you hadn’t seen him in a while it was a safe bet that he was resting behind the “davenport”.

* After graduating from boot camp, it’s in that house that I proudly stood at attention flanked by two generations of grandmothers.

* Shortly after completing my service with Uncle Sam, Grandma and Grandpa used my newly acquired skill set and paid me to dig fighting holes on the north face of the basement. I made a little spending cash and patched up some leaky concrete while I was down there.

* At the turn of the century Joe’s Place was the sight of this generations’ first 5-year Fox Family reunion – reuniting long lost kin back in Warroad just like the days of old.

* Grandma’s kitchen table served as a gathering place for many Christmas meals. That table was the same spot where a dozen red roses waited for my soon to be wife after I proposed to her on that cold March day more than ten years ago.

* Downstairs Grandpa’s woodshop was where my father and I fashioned out a makeshift Muskie Bait box. And later, where we were joined by my brother to bore out holes in countless chunks of birch logs that would serve as candle-holders and center pieces at the wedding of my dreams.

* That house is where my own children crawled, walked and eventually ran circles. Chasing each other through the kitchen and around the den. That is of course until Poppa Joe surprised them with the disappearing pocket door.

* Every house in America deserves a resting place as comfortable as the beanbag in Grandma’s TV room and the view of Government Island from the front window is a great place to take in a lightening storm, watch the snow fall or even better, check on the ducks and geese and their seasonal broods.

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You see, my wife teased me a bit on Monday as we said our goodbyes to loved ones after another great holiday break. She sensed that I was uneasy and even a bit emotional as we packed for our journey home. Teasing is her loving way of acknowledging my feelings. Although we left with photos, dishes and shop lights to remind us of “The House That Joe Built”, this was in fact the last time that we’d have this great home as a gathering place for our family. My list is long. No doubt every member of our extended family, Biskups and Kirbys alike,  has equally as many memorable moments stemming from this great place. I guess it’s not so much as a “good-bye” as it is a “relocation of memories” because our snowbirds will be back. And although they might spend a few nights in new digs next summer, we’re all reluctantly ready to create new memories somewhere other than 501 Riverview Drive.

Love you Grandma Judy and Poppa Joe.

Thank you for everything.

Paul, Michele, Tyler, Emma, Logan, Gunner and Raider