Last call for Shep & Mary Lou

By Mike VanBuren
From the late June 2013 edition of The North Woods Call

    The stacks of loose paper, piles of books and racks of charred smoking pipes that defined Glen Sheppard’s basement office are gone now.  The well-used ceiling maps have disappeared and the built-in gun cabinet is empty.

     Only a couple of steel file cabinets and the legendary conservation writer’s laminate-topped desk remain—and they’ll soon be hauled away.

     Nearby, at the opposite end of the basement, Shep’s fly-tying paraphernalia, fishing reels and extensive collection of tools have been cleared from the wooden work benches. Only a few stray items are left to remind us of the many years he inhabited this space as an avid outdoorsman and longtime publisher of The North Woods Call.

     Up a narrow spiral staircase on the main floor of the Turkey Run home south of Charlevoix, Michigan, the rooms have been emptied in preparation for a series of estate sales in the large garage and nearby pole barn outside, which are now stuffed with a lifetime of memories.  Furniture, outdoor clothing, fishing and camping gear, inflatable boats, hand and power tools, assorted household items, several prints by wildlife artist Jim Foote and a large collection of cribbage boards—some of which Shep made himself—are on display, along with numerous other personal items that are available for purchase.

     My wife and I are here to load and carry away 40-plus years of unbound newspaper archives that are stored in boxes, plastic bags and random stacks in Shep’s basement, as well as in the still-cluttered upstairs office once belonging to his wife and business partner, Mary Lou.

     The former business office is located just inside the back door, a few feet from the now barren kitchen dining area where Shep once held court for governors, Michigan Department of Natural Resources officials and field staff, fellow journalists and assorted other visitors—including yours truly—who made regular pilgrimages to the wooded drumlin on which the Sheppard home sits.

   Mary Lou kept track of the books, circulation figures, advertising, phone calls and most everything else with which Shep did not want to be troubled—including Shep himself—while he did the reporting and writing.

     The feisty scribe passed away in January 2011 at the age of 74 and Mary Lou followed not long after in late December 2012.  Many conservationists have called it “the end of an era.”

     So this is a somewhat wistful and reflective day for those of us who are walking in their rather large footprints. Yet the sad and decidedly dark cloud that hangs over the reason for our being here is brightened by the general cheerfulness of Mary Lou’s daughter, Jackie Anderson, who has the unenviable task of cleaning everything out and organizing the estate sales.  One sale was held a few weeks ago, while the second is occurring today.

     Anderson says she expects to hold at least one more sale—maybe more—before she is finished clearing things out and puts the house and accompanying 11-acres on the market. 

     It’s a grim task and nature is already reclaiming Mary Lou’s once-immaculate flower and vegetable gardens.  Two picturesque wooden swings where the couple reportedly sat to enjoy their outdoor Shangri-la are hanging overgrown and unused.

     But Shep would likely scoff at any latent sentimentality. “He lived, he died and he’s gone” is the only epitaph needed, he once told a friend, and he insisted on no memorial service to celebrate his life and times.  The same is apparently true for Mary Lou.

     Both were cremated upon their deaths and their ashes scattered in locations meaningful to them.  A bit of Shep resides for posterity in the woods surrounding his former home, according to Anderson, and the rest will likely be placed soon in the “Holy Waters” of the Au Sable River, a place dear to the hearts of both Shep and his father.

     Mary Lou, on the other hand, loved to travel and requested that family members take her ashes along on trips, leaving portions  behind at various special locations.  Her wishes have already been carried out in Hawaii, Ireland and the United States, Anderson said, and there are more of her remains waiting to be scattered whenever other family members feed their wanderlust.

     As for my wife and I, we elect to honor their memories by visiting one of their favorite restaurants—The Front Porch in nearby Ellsworth—where in later years Shep and Mary Lou are said to have eaten lunch nearly every day.  I was here with Mary Lou  twice myself after she sold me The Call.

     As the nonprofit ministry of a local church, the small eatery will provide just the kind of nourishment we need on a day like today, when we say our final goodbyes to these tenacious friends and defenders of the north country.