Henry Berghofer (June 8, 2010)

In 1965 my Mom and Dad, Henry and Rita Berghofer, purchased the old stone cottage in Grants Bay on Kahshe Lake from family friends, Phil Growe and his wife. The cottage was soon to become the center of the universe for us four kids but especially for my Dad. He spent countless hours staring out at the lake while telling us stories of his childhood and when the sun disappeared his stories would continue by the dim light of an old oil lantern. The Berghofers were welcomed to Kahshe by our new neighbors; the Rattray/Tedesco families on one side and further down the shore Ross Macinoff and his daughter Moira (Burley) who inhabited three small cabins they named Chubby Bear. Soon Dad and Mom started inviting friends from the city.  Not long after his first visit, Gerry McCarthy, his wife, and four girls built a new cottage next to ours. 

Dad’s best friend, Norm MacParland, and his family of four boisterous boys spent many weekends and summer vacations with our family. My dad and his friends spent fall weekends hunting and would even brave the odd winter skiing into the cottage and hoisting a drink or two to keep warm. There are many stories of hikes, blueberry picking, canoeing, campfires, construction projects, sea fleas, water skiing, swimming, and mildly exaggerated fishing exploits. However, one of Dad’s favourites had to be the May 24th weekend tradition when we would all bundle up, cover ourselves with mosquito repellant and mosquito nets, and venture over to the big rock at the Rattrays’ cottage to watch fireworks and eat marshmallows. He delighted in sharing his experiences and creating special memories of his favourite place for his grandchildren.  

Dad passed away suddenly in June of this year and my sisters and I were with him as he drifted away.  He seemed to be comforted by fond memories of the cottage and I am sure he is still looking out over the lake and swapping stories with John (Rattray), Gerry, and his best buddy, Norm.  Farewell Dad.  I will always remember the relaxing tone of your voice in the dim light of the oil lantern.  We all wish we could hear just one more story but it is our turn to tell stories to our families. Thanks for the great memories.