History of Björklunden

Imagine buying 325 acres — over one mile of Lake Michigan shoreline — for $2,000. Carleton and Winifred Vail did just that in 1928. After roaming their newly purchased property they christened it Björklunden vid Sjön (in Swedish, "birch forest by the water") after all the beautiful white birch trees that dot the shoreline.

Carleton, born in Highland Park, Illinois, in 1881, was a nationally known underwriter and the head of a Chicago-based insurance company. Winifred Case, born in 1887, was the daughter of a minister. They were married c. 1907, and their first child, Carleton M. Vail, Jr., was born in 1908.

Carleton, Jr., went on to become one of the first school psychologists/counselors, before and after serving in World War II. He was a popular student-athlete at Lake Forest Academy and Dartmouth and met his French bride, Andrée, while playing tennis at a United Nations function in New York City. They were married in 1950 and lived on Long Island. Today they live in California, although Carl unfortunately suffers from Alzheimer's and will no longer be returning to Björklunden, where he has attended seminars in the past.

Carleton and Winifred's second child, Edith, was born in 1912. After attending Smith College, she was a music teacher in New York City and died, without ever marrying, in 1973.

The Vail family had vacationed in Door County for many years and, in fact, had a number of summer homes on the shore in Ephraim (and still do today). Carleton and Winifred, however, decided to venture east and found their dream vacation spot in Baileys Harbor. They built the wonderful four-bedroom lodge, as well as the guest house/studio, in 1929 and finished the only year-round residence on the property, the caretaker's stabbur, in 1931.

Tragically, one rainy Saturday afternoon in October, 1932, Carleton was killed in a car accident near Institute, about 15 miles from Björklunden. Shortly thereafter, Winifred spent a year traveling in Europe, trying to put the tragedy behind her. During her travels, she observed a stave church in Lillehammer, Norway, and decided it would be most appropriate to some day build one herself at Björklunden. Perhaps this is most fitting — through the death of her first husband, Winifred found the inspiration for her dream of a "Sanctuary of Peace."

From the moment Winifred Boynton saw it, she had to have one just like it. Happens all the time with any number of items -- but with a Norwegian stavkirke?

After Winifred's first husband, Carleton Vail, died in an automobile accident in 1932, she traveled in Europe, where she discovered the aforementioned wooden church in Lillehammer, Norway. In 1934 she married Donald Boynton and, between them, they brought six children to the dinner table, which is precisely where Winifred made the announcement that a chapel was to be built on the grounds of Björklunden vid Sjön, their summer retreat near Baileys Harbor, Wisconsin. The children took a rather dim view of this proclamation -- after all, there were plenty of churches within easy driving distance, but Winifred Boynton was determined, and in the summer of 1939 her dream came true.

The first summer, of what turned out to be a nine-year labor of love, was focused on construction of the Chapel. A local builder -- assisted by the Boyntons' caretaker, among others -- led a crew of talented carpenters working under Donald and Winifred's guidance.

As the foundation for the Chapel was being prepared, it was discovered that Winifred's choice of locations was quite fortuitous. Directly beneath the site where the Chapel would stand, natural fissures in the dolomite bedrock had formed a perfect cross. Upon this discovery, Winifred knew the Chapel was where it was meant to be.

In keeping with a pagan tradition, Winifred wanted dragon heads to be carved at the end of each of the 52 roof joists to keep out evil. The entire Boynton clan was pressed into service to carve enough dragons to keep pace with the carpenters' swift progress. The dragon head experience convinced the Boynton children that their carving days were over, but it only served to whet Donald and Winifred's appetite for the many projects that lay ahead.

With the summer winding down and fall rapidly approaching, the carpenters' tasks were completed. The structure itself was finished, but there was so much more to accomplish. As the Boyntons left Björklunden for the winter, Winifred took comfort in the fact that each morning the sun would rise over Lake Michigan and shine gloriously through the stained glass window, delicately lighting the empty interior of the Chapel -- the interior that she would, over the next eight summers, transform into a work of art.

Marjorie Meyers Graham, granddaughter of Winifred and Donald Boynton, is owner and director of A Woman's Place in New Buffalo, Michigan, offering retreats and seminars celebrating women and creativity.

During the summer of 1939, the site was excavated, the stone foundation was laid, and the exterior walls and roof were constructed. The first carvings consisted of 52 "simple" gargoyles under the eaves and the small dragon heads that appear at the ends of the long scalloped beams that edge the gables. The garage was turned into a woodcarving workshop, and the Boynton children were pressed into service, but they soon retired from carving and left the work of the next eight years to their parents. The following winter a pattern began that would continue until 1946. During the winters, they carved at their home in Highland Park, Illinois; in the summers, the carvings were installed, and Winifred painted the frescoes on-site.

An important reason for their increasing skill was the discovery of a master woodcarver from Denmark who taught an adult education class at New Trier High School in nearby Winnetka, Illinois. This instructor taught them the all-important theory of resistance, which Winifred called "the beginning and the end of all true carving. We learned the necessity of equalizing the thrust of the right hand bearing the implement, by resisting with the left, an entirely new technique in our experience." The first carving project that reflects their new skills is the altar with its unique Cross of Peace.

One wintry Monday night in 1941, after working on the Cross in woodcarving class, they emerged into an ice storm and had to walk in darkness down the center of the street. A passing car's headlights caught Don trudging along under the weight of the heavy wooden cross, while Winifred followed with a heavy suitcase full of tools. In surprise, the car's driver slammed on the brakes and skidded sideways while heads popped out of the windows to stare. No one was hurt, but the Boyntons realized that they must have presented a very strange sight.

The next time you venture into the Chapel for a quiet moment of reflection, stop on the porch and bend down to pat one of the guardian bears at the entrance. Thank her for not only protecting the Chapel from evil for over half a century but also for being the earliest ancestor of the beautifully carved apostles and the Angel of Peace on her cross.

By Katy Vail Sturgis

Katy Vail Sturgis, Saint Charles, Illinois, is a niece of Winifred C. Boynton and the daughter of Malcolm and Peggy Vail, brother and sister-in-law of Winifred's first husband, Carleton Vail.

As a 12-year-old, I was privileged to tag along with my mother as things developed at Björklunden. I remember Aunt Winifred designing and painting the bonaders, designing and painting the window frames, seeing to the installation of the magnificent andirons that Mr. Zahn had made, doing some of the planting and making plans for the gardens, tennis courts, garage (later turned into a workshop), studio, and kitchen garden. She could do anything she turned her mind to -- she sang and played the piano beautifully until she became deaf, then took up, among other things, the Chapel.

Here are some of the special things I remember:

Aunt Winifred and my cousin Carl were so excited when they returned from Europe with plans for the Chapel. She worked feverishly on its designs, then she and Uncle [Donald Boynton] went to school to learn about carving. I remember going to their house in Highland Park to see the first pew ends.

How intensely she studied the Bible for just the right concepts for the wall paintings (ruling out anything that had to do with death), the beautiful Peace Cross, the font, and the lectern.

Because she was deaf, she could turn off her hearing aid so that, in spite of many house guests, visitors, etc., she could concentrate on her painting. I can still picture her on the studio stepladder, humming and painting, oblivious of anything else.

She telephoned my mother upon discovering that the ceiling paint material was wrong and would have to be done over. Fortunately, this was not true of all the walls. It took a year and many trips to Boston to find the right glass for the windows; as I recall, the glass in the first ones was wrong. Her search for the perfect musical instrument also took a long time, and finding lighting that would be appropriate took yet another lengthy search.

The great pleasure she and Uncle Don took in sharing their joy with others was always evident. She always seemed so surprised when people would compliment her and thrilled when they appreciated the true significance of why she had done all this. The Chapel was the perfect expression of her life, talent, and faith.

By Gretchen Wilterding Maring '52

I stand outside the Boynton Chapel, warming myself in the autumn sun and admiring the blue waters of Lake Michigan. Soon I hear the rumble of the tour bus on the gravel road leading into the Björklunden campus. People come straggling around the bushes, stunned by the beauty of the vista they are beholding, some for the first time. And then they see the Chapel. I am thrilled each time I see the reactions of these visitors.

I tell about the carving on which both of the Boyntons collaborated and my listeners sit quietly, trying to absorb the wonder of it all. I explain that Mrs. Boynton was a determined, spiritual, talented lady who had a vision that she never failed in fulfilling. But it is when I start to talk about the paintings that their eyes grow round and the awe-struck look comes to their faces.

The South Transept depicts the Holy Hunt. The living waters of the great lake, along with the soaring mountains connecting heaven and earth, serve as background to a white unicorn, pure and unblemished, facing the Virgin Mary. She also is a symbol of purity and sits among a clump of birches, the symbol of faith. The angel Gabriel, blowing his horn, is there with the three hounds, Truth, Justice, and Mercy. The allegory is completed with the knowledge that, through the purity of the Virgin, Jesus will be born.

The Chapel has become quieter and quieter as the beauty and mystery of these paintings becomes more evident. I explain that, while the building is inspired by the Norwegian Stavkirke, the painting within is not rosemåling but more like Swedish allegorical painting. But it isn't that, either. It is Winifred Boynton's style, one that evolved through painstaking study, research, and meditation.

The visitors see the tall panels of St. Paul holding the Written Word and St. Peter with his Keys to the Kingdom. All are amused to find out that St. Peter's toe is really Mr. Boynton's toe. He was enlisted to pose so Mrs. Boynton could more easily see the shape of the foreshortened foot.

Two medieval song manuscripts in the north and south transepts reveal, in Latin, the messages of "peace on earth, good will towards all men" and "now let thy servant depart in peace." Other panels of scripture show the careful thought Mrs. Boynton employed to help us focus on the message of prayer, oneness with God, and peace.

As we prepare to leave, I read the passage on the wall next to the door "Ye shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace . . .," and many pairs of shining eyes have seen what determination, self-focus, grace, and talent can do. This, plus the realization that she was willing to share it with us all, fills us with a great sense of awe and thankfulness. Everyone stands, cameras in hand, looking around themselves with new insight.

And I stand in the sunlight, warming myself in the sun, admiring the blue waters of Lake Michigan while I wait for the sound of the next bus and 50 more people with whom to share an incredible story.

By Suzanne Boynton Meyers

I was 12 when my father married Winifred Vail and I started spending my summers at Björklunden rather than at Dad's logging camp in Au Train, Michigan. When my parents first talked of building a chapel, I was either 15 or 16, and I thought they were starting a new hobby! To me, creating one's own personal chapel suggested a serious involvement in religion, which was not typical for the Boynton family. Although "Mom" was an active Christian Scientist, my dad did not attend any church. However, as time went on, and they both became more involved in all the details of the Chapel, it became clear that there was a strong force driving them -- they were working towards a goal. I feel that Dad's interest in the project was as a supportive husband.

I mostly created my own fun at Björklunden. Dad taught me riflery, and I did lots of target practice down at the shore; Mom taught me to knit, and to this day, I am an excellent knitter, which led to my lifetime interest in the Scandinavian textile arts; and I listened to traditional jazz records and played jazz piano on the upright in the studio. I also read a lot, walked in the woods, and played tennis whenever there was someone to play with.

One of the few jobs I was ever asked to do was the yearly painting of the dragons on the ridgepoles of the roof. I would climb the ladder with little pots of paint to touch up the white and green eyeballs and red tongues so the dragons would continue to ward off the evil spirits. Although I enjoyed the painting, I wouldn't admit to my fear of heights, so I did the chore but secretly hated it.

A high point in my memories of adolescence at Björklunden was the all-girls' house party I held at age 16. I was allowed to invite my seven best friends from the North Shore of Chicago for five days of non-stop giggling, yelling, running, singing, eating, and noise! -- which was so foreign to my parents, but they were good sports to put up with our high jinks. The biggest adventure of that house party was when we all piled into one old six-person canoe and paddled out a mile, whereupon we capsized. Two of the girls couldn't swim and panicked, two strong swimmers came in for help, and the rest slowly pushed the overturned canoe to shore through the cold, rough water. It was a scary event for us all, but fun in retrospect.

Now, as a senior citizen, looking back at my youthful experience at Björklunden while my parents created the Chapel, I am somewhat regretful about the opportunities to learn that I passed up, but I am now aware that, by osmosis, I did absorb quite a lot from them. I like to study new artistic techniques, which are usually Scandinavian, such as rosemåling and rosepath weaving. In my 20s, I seriously took up golf, which I still enjoy immensely, and I'm sure my love of most classical music stems from Winifred's influence. Björklunden is still breathtaking to me, and although I miss the lodge, the Studio, the woods, and the lake still bring back wonderful memories. But I still won't eat lutefisk!

By Marwin Wrolstad

The history of Björklunden, at least as far as Lawrence University is concerned, begins with the story of how Winifred and Donald Boynton first focused on the college as a possible beneficiary and steward of their 325-acre estate just south of Baileys Harbor (told in Professor Charles Breunig’s book, A Great and Good Work: A History of Lawrence University 1847-1964, pp. 258-259).

President Knight was particularly well-suited for his role. He was a sensitive listener and could explain persuasively how the Boyntons’ dreams for the estate could mesh with and be supported by the mission of the college. We know that other institutions had been considered by the Boyntons, including Northwestern University and St. Olaf College, among others, but none of them had Douglas Knight.

There are those, including the writer, who believe that there was another dynamic besides President Knight’s persuasiveness that subtly but positively influenced the Boyntons’ receptivity to the thought of Lawrence being the caretaker of their prized and precious property.

Through these activities and associations they became friends of a number of Lawrence-related people who were also seasonal residents of Door County, such as David Stevens, John Reeve, Frank Shattuck, Edwin West, and many others — all of them people who wore their Lawrence colors with pride. For the Boyntons, it was easy to think positively of Lawrence because of their respect for these fellow Door County residents.

Donald Boynton died in 1966, and Winifred died in 1974, at which time Lawrence gained full control of the property. Milton Henquinet, the Boyntons’ caretaker for many years, was ready to retire after Winifred’s death, so Norbert Vonck, assistant director of Facility Services at Lawrence, was transferred to Björklunden to maintain and manage the property, which he did for three years. Joseph Hopfensperger ’52, professor emeritus of theatre and drama, was hired as the first resident director in 1977. The Björklunden Summer Seminars were launched in 1980.

By Gregory A. Volk

By any measure — from its now firmly rooted place within the mission of the college to the breadth and depth of the impact that it has had, not only on Lawrence students but on an ever-expanding constituency of alumni and friends — Björklunden is a proven success. Looking at Björklunden today, it is hard to imagine that anyone could ever have doubted its future.

Once we overcame the pain of our loss, it became apparent that the college, through its Board of Trustees, would need to make some tough decisions with long-reaching implications. Should the college immediately rebuild, as some thought? If so, what exactly should be built? What were the financial and the budgetary ramifications of operating Björklunden? What obligations, legal, moral, and otherwise does Lawrence have to preserve and perpetuate the Boyntons’ legacy? Could the property be sold? Should Björklunden be sold? At every meeting of the Board of Trustees over a two-year period, Björklunden and its future were on the table. Having witnessed those conversations, which at times seemed akin to treading water in ice-cold Lake Michigan waters — i.e., numbing — it should be said that Lawrence’s board did exactly what a governing board should do when facing this kind of challenge. Every conceivable aspect of Björklunden was weighed and considered.

“If Lawrence were to be creative,” she noted, “it could find a way to tie Björklunden into the central mission of the college.” She was right, of course. What was lacking in the process was the “vision thing,” and there was only one person who could provide that vision. In his address to the board in October 1994, Rik Warch delivered one of the most inspirational pieces of his presidency, “Autodidacts, Cyberspace, Students, and Björklunden,” a version of which was subsequently printed in Lawrence Today.

Members of The Boynton Society care deeply about Björklunden. In his last few weeks as president of Lawrence, it seems especially fitting that we collectively acknowledge and thank Rik for guiding Björklunden to its current standing. At the same time, I think that Rik would agree that we are only beginning to discover that Björklunden is not, and never will be, “finished,” as it holds and offers the promise of an even greater future.

Completion of the 2005 summer schedule marked the 25th anniversary of the Björklunden Seminars program. Today, Björklunden’s signature program, which began in 1980 with a modest goal of 14 participants per week, regularly fills the lodge’s 14 sleeping rooms, while welcoming up to 70 commuters for a week-long seminar. For 25 years, Björklunden Seminars have engaged minds and lifted spirits in the idyllic setting that is Lawrence University’s northern campus.

By 1980, Joe Hopfensperger ’52, who served as the first director of the estate, had been on the job three years, bringing buildings up to date with regard to comfort, safety, and building codes. He had studied other, comparable, facilities and considered the realities presented by the estate when, looking back on his own undergraduate education, he decided to incorporate education, the strength of Lawrence, with the unique opportunities presented at Björklunden. Thus began Björklunden Seminars.

Björklunden Seminars initially targeted Lawrence alumni, with a reasonable goal of one half of one percent of alumni in attendance per week throughout the season, a turnout that would make the program a financial success. Unfortunately, it did not happen. Not only was attendance less than hoped for, non-alumni friends of the estate accounted for over 60 percent of the attendees, a trend that has continued over the years.

From such modest beginnings, the program has grown steadily, while facing some major challenges along the way. The initial challenge, from an administrative standpoint, was generating enough revenue to break even, as well as coping with the elements in a lodge not designed to satisfy the expectations of the modern age. Björklunden Seminars broke even after ten years, but the estate continued to lose money for another nine years until seminar fees and gifts to The Boynton Society equaled expenses. Throughout this time, however, Lawrence continued to support the budding program, recognizing its promising future and the dedication of its small but growing constituency.

Ultimately, the demonstrated success and importance of the Björklunden Seminars was key to the decision to rebuild the lodge. The maturing model of the summer seminars, rooted in intellectual pursuits and spiritual rejuvenation on the shores of Lake Michigan, provided a model for a new program for Lawrence undergraduates. The weekend student program began with the completion of a new lodge in 1996 and now runs throughout the academic year, bringing to the estate each year hundreds of Lawrence students, the vast majority of whom were not yet born when the seminars began 25 years ago. They represent the next generation of Björklunden’s partisans and stewards — individuals who, like the dedicated summer seminar participants, value nature and the exploration of the mind.

After 25 years, presenters and attendees of Björklunden Seminars attest that each program is unique. In 1985, following his first seminar as presenter, the late Bob Berner told Joe Hopfensperger that he would not come back for another seminar, because the unforgettable week he had experienced could not be replicated. He had experienced what many before and since have learned — a Björklunden Seminar is a living event that is generated by the amazing people who take part in it. Joe’s response, “Hell, Bob, they’re all like that,” rings as true today as it did 20 years ago. Like many talented presenters, Bob returned. He went on to lead 20 seminars and, like others who have returned, came back each time to rekindle old memories and create new ones.

Medical careers are the topic when five alumni doctors spend a Björklunden weekend with future medical students

By Sandra J. Drexler '90

Excerpted from an article originally published in the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

This past spring, Björklunden, Lawrence's northern campus in Door County, hosted its second Medical Muses Seminar, a session where students with an interest in medical careers could mix and mingle with alumni physicians. The program was the brainchild of Nicholas C. Maravolo, professor of biology and a veteran member of Lawrence's Health Careers Advisory Committee, and Alan Reynolds '72, an anesthesiologist in Wausau.

Alumni panelists were Jim Bruno '81, an orthopedic surgeon in Oconomowoc; Doug Carlson '81, an OB/GYN specialist practicing in Milwaukee; Bart Isaacson '91, an internist in Wausau; Kathy Krohn-Gill '79, a family practitioner in Merrill; and Amy Cooper Schumacher '91, a pediatrician in Madison.

All of them had taken slightly different paths to Lawrence and through medical school and have chosen different specialties, but the tie that binds them is a continuing relationship with Professor Maravolo. It was at his request that the five physicians spent a weekend talking about their lives and careers with 19 Lawrence students at Björklunden.

Much of the advice the doctors offered had to do with determining a personal philosophy and approach to life. A common theme was the need to purposefully choose what is important to you as a person and to decide what things you are willing to sacrifice for your career. Each of the physicians identified a strong family life as being very important in their lives and a guidepost for making decisions. A belief in a higher power was also mentioned frequently, as physicians are required to make difficult decisions, often alone and in a hurry.

The business aspect of a medical practice, in particular, was one area that Carlson noted as lacking in his medical education. As a partner in an independent practice, he describes himself as being as much a businessman as a physician. Bruno suggested that the students subscribe to the Wall Street Journal and Investment Business Daily, and both doctors said that they would have found this advice very helpful as medical students and suggested it as a way to better prepare the Lawrence students for their futures.

Isaacson stressed the fact that liberal arts graduates are greatly advantaged in medical school by their ability to communicate clearly and effectively in both oral and written forms. Krohn-Gill also mentioned communication and listening skills as being very important to a physician and described how Lawrence helped her to hone those skills. Isaacson urged students to explore opportunities outside the sciences in order to be as well-rounded as possible, and Schumacher echoed this statement, saying that any advantages students with deeper scientific backgrounds might have are erased within the first two weeks of medical school. Carlson reassured the students that Lawrence taught him how to study and gave him the skills necessary to successfully complete medical school.

Schumacher has worked through Indian Health Services and was able to talk about the challenges that come with providing care to people who might not even have electricity or running water. She also is a faculty member at the University of Wisconsin Medical School and was able to address students' questions about careers as medical educators.

Much of the weekend was left unstructured in order to provide informal opportunities for the students to interact with and ask questions of the physicians. They shared meals, took walks, and chatted around a bonfire. Lisa Baumann '01, from Watertown, valued this casual atmosphere and the fact that it allowed her to meet the alumni physicians as individuals.

Students attending the seminar ranged from freshmen just beginning to explore their interest in practicing medicine or doing medical research to seniors who were waiting to hear from the medical schools to which they've applied or choosing among the schools that have offered them admission. Based on conversations over the weekend, at least one student decided that a medical career was not for him. Being able to talk with the doctors openly and at length allowed him to make a decision for his future based on real-life experience.

The weekend also provided Baumann with a unique opportunity to talk at length with two women who are successfully combining medical careers with families and to discuss the challenges that women face in the medical profession. One-on-one sessions with the panelists gave her a view of the profession that she never would have had otherwise, and Björklunden provided the perfect setting for those conversations.

The need for a passion for medicine and people was something that Tom Murphy '03, freshman from Delavan, brought away from the weekend. Murphy found the casual nature of the seminar to be the perfect format for informal conversations with the doctors and was also able to spend time talking with each of them. He especially appreciated the fact that the physicians were alumni, and he enjoyed hearing their stories about Lawrence.

Of the four student seminars on various topics that Professor Maravolo conducted at Björklunden this past academic year, he was particularly delighted with this one: "The fact that five busy professionals took a weekend off to spend it with students they didn't know — and then offered to repeat the experience — speaks to the success of the weekend." Having had their first taste of Björklunden, all of the physicians who attended the weekend offered to come back for a repeat of the seminar.

The weekend was deemed a great success by both students and physicians. Krohn-Gill remarked that it might seem as if Maravolo had brought the group together as much for the benefit of the alumni as for the students, since all the physicians commented that the seminar provided them with an opportunity to reflect on their lives and careers, as well as the roads they'd traveled to get there. This was also a way for them to give something back to Lawrence and to the man they claim as their mentor.

They also mentioned that they wished they had a similar opportunity as undergraduates, which they felt would have better prepared them for their careers and lessened the disillusionment that each had felt at one time or another.

Student athletes train and bond at Björklunden

By Cameron D. Kramlich '02

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

During my three years at Lawrence I have visited Björklunden for various academic purposes, but my favorite moments in Door County are definitely the annual preseason trips with the cross-country team.

As a freshman I went to Björklunden eager to spend time with my teammates, yet slightly apprehensive about our ambitious workout schedule. Coach Mike Fox trains our team to win, and I had unfortunately misinterpreted his summer running goals as some bizarre Midwestern freshman hazing ritual. Physically and emotionally drained from a week of hard work in Appleton, I thought the prospect for a change sounded promising.

Heading north in a yellow Bluebird bus, I sat next to Nichole Cook '00, who became my partner for the first workout. The bus stopped about 20 miles outside Baileys Harbor. Unloading our bicycles we began a "partner run" that paired two runners who alternated bicycling and running every few miles. Although our group was not the first to reach our destination near Ephraim, Nichole and I made a valiant attempt. After a short ride to a park outside Baileys Harbor, the team inhaled Subway sandwiches. Enjoying the sand between my toes, I walked into town along the beach, before heading down Chapel Lane.

Although the wooden gateway and hardscrabble dirt road seemed to portend rustic accommodations, the Great Room of the lodge exceeded my expectations in every possible way. After dinner -- the first of Björklunden cook Steve Martin's superlative meals -- the team indulged in our favorite evening activity, board games. According to this year's captain, Julie Liebich '01, "We always broaden our minds by playing Trivial Pursuit from the '70s." I remember hitting the down pillow that night well before the game ended.

Our exercise regimen varies slightly each year, although a few activities stand as defining moments, including the annual, infamous 20-mile run. Starting on a pier jutting out into Devils' Doorway, the passage between the peninsula and Washington Island, it takes several hours to reach Björklunden.

One night, a summer employee somehow managed to convince several of us to attend the final performance of a locally produced play in Ephraim. The next day, our workout involved a 60-mile round-trip bike journey to Peninsula State Park. Fortunately, my body sufficiently cooperated so that, upon arrival, I was able to enjoy a brisk five-mile run.

During one evening of our stay in Door County, Coach Fox encourages the musically non-challenged members of the team to share their talents. Over the years the program has ranged from a virtuosic horn solo to a rendition of some Dave Matthews tunes. This ritual is one of many that mark our stay at Björklunden.

A major event for the cross-country team at Björklunden, and our most important ritual, is the discovery of the Big Wood. First created by runners in the Class of 2001, the Big Wood is a talisman found anew every year by first-year initiates to the team, who then endeavor to create a team mascot. After each cross-country meet, the captains award the Big Wood to both a male and a female runner with exemplary performances. This ritual also serves as an experience of bonding for freshman athletes.

In addition to the cross-country team, some 90 other students on sports teams spent 343 nights at Björklunden last year, including the basketball, golf, swimming, hockey, and volleyball squads. Other student groups that retreat to Door County include the Lawrentian staff, the Lambda Sigma honorary society, and the members of the Judicial Board, not to mention the many weekend seminars that are part of specific courses or academic departments.

Another bonding ritual for student groups is the service portion of a visit. Without an extensive network of supporters, Björklunden would not exist; organized service projects help reinforce the community spirit of the student weekends. New cross-country freshmen learn to clean dishes and do laundry together, while teammates clear tables. Every year, the cross-country team rearranges furniture in anticipation of the new school year. Major projects like helping expand the running trails act to further the mission of Björklunden. The teamwork required to build a campfire -- ranging from wood cut as part of a work project by the cross-country team this summer to the lake water carried to put embers to sleep -- unites teams in anticipation of future work.

The quintessential ritual that highlights every extended stay in Door County is the campfire. Although different groups bond through different means, campfires bring students and teachers together. When athletes return to Appleton, the refreshing experience of a visit to Björklunden provides a foundation for excellence.

Cook Grants support student research

By Ben Aughenbaugh '99

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

I spent much of the winter of 1997-98 attempting to arrange some sort of employment for the following summer. I had numerous seasonal job opportunities, including work as a lifeguard, waiter, or lab assistant, but none of them seemed to be the right fit for my experience and my interest in the outdoors. Fortunately, my faculty advisor, Professor of Biology Nick Maravolo, suggested that I apply for Lawrence's new Chester and Joan Cook Fund for Summer Research at Björklunden, a grant program made possible by a gift from Lawrence alumni Chester and Joan Cook, both Class of 1943. Cook Grants are offered to candidates in the fields of biology, geology, and anthropology who submit proposals for research in their respective areas of interest.

Having a particular interest in plant ecology, I crafted my proposal to encompass my interest in assessing the ground flora of Björklunden. Specifically, I sought to uncover the distribution of moss species in relation to local environmental variables. Many visitors to Björklunden might not realize that it offers a unique habitat to study these plants. Nestled on the shore of Lake Michigan, the property undergoes different climatic variances than inland areas at the same latitude. Also, other studies regarding higher vascular plants had been researched in previous years, but no one had documented the nature of the diminutive mosses. This is what prompted my proposal entitled "An Investigation of the Role of Substrate, Moisture, and Light on the Spatial Distribution of Mosses in the Björklunden Forest."

Not all was academic during my stay. In the late afternoons, Ben Meyer, a fellow Lawrence student and summer lodge employee; Sheddy, chef Steve Martin's dog; and I would take a break from our work and run the wonderful trail system weaving throughout the property. Afterwards, a jump in the lake seemed all too inviting. With the proximity of Ridges Sanctuary, other free time was spent meandering through the old shorelines and swales of the reserve. Lastly, I usually had a good book from the lodge library in progress; the blue lawn chairs and lapping waves provide a perfect setting to immerse yourself in a book.

While working in the forests of Björklunden, good friends and fun made my experience unforgettable. Now, processing and analyzing the collected data, I will be assembling the material in submission for honors. Although a biology laboratory on campus does not hold any of the splendors of Björklunden, fond memories often surface as I review my data. For me, the Cook Fund for Summer Research has proven to be an incredible blend of work and play, making for a rewarding and educational work experience in a perfect setting for learning.

A three-generation experience at Björklunden

By Nancy Gazzola Hines '76

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

Every spring since we started receiving the brochures about the summer programs at Björklunden, David and I have looked longingly at the course offerings, hoping that someday we could afford to attend a session. Then, when we were able to afford such an experience, there was the issue of what to do with our three children while we were tromping through the woods learning about the vegetation in Door County. Last year, we finally managed to attend a session by sending our two daughters to camp in Michigan and flying family in to stay with our son, while we enjoyed "Woodland Walkabouts" with Professor Nick Maravolo.

So the grandmothers flew to Chicago, and we all drove north for what proved to be a fantastic week. The two seminar instructors could not have been better. Both Fred Luft and David Stokes were engaging, enthusiastic, patient teachers who encouraged hands-on learning. After the first evening, when they introduced their plans for the week, Sam was suddenly interested in participating in the music class, and Giulia wanted to partake of some of David's offerings in the nature class. With Björklunden Director Mark Breseman's blessing, Fred and David were more than willing to accommodate this increased interest, and all participants were allowed to experience both classes if they so desired.

We will definitely do our best to return next year, and our entourage will likely include both a father and a grandfather because they were very envious of the stories we came home with. Thank you to Mark and the Lawrence students who enabled us to thoroughly relax and enjoy ourselves in the sanctuary that is Björklunden.

Math and theatre intersect at Björklunden

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

The quote above is from Hannah in Tom Stoppard's Arcadia, a play that depicts a contemporary generation searching for information about ancestors from a previous century (who also appear in the play). Arcadia was the basis for a seminar at Björklunden in April 2001 that brought together students from the mathematics, theatre and drama, and classics departments, as well as math professor Eugénie Hunsicker; classics professor Randall McNeill; Keith Howard, a guest mathematician from Kenyon College; and myself.

Although neither of us remembers exactly how, our conversations began to include Arcadia -- a play that contains references to chaos theory, entropy, and fractals and mirrors these math theories in its structure. Math-poor as I am, I knew of the connections because I played Hannah while obtaining my doctorate at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Understanding the math is crucial to understanding that role. We realized that this play offered a perfect basis for combining two departments that rarely work together.

We began with presentations on math history to explain allusions in the script, followed by an examination of classical influences on estate gardening through the 19th century (an integral conflict in the story). We staged a scene in which the two generations appear together in a very "entropic" conclusion to the play. Keith Howard's presentation on fractals encapsulated the weekend, as he combined math formulas with aesthetic choices to create a landscape that changed according to the seasons. We hiked around Björklunden, noting examples of fractals in nature and evidence of formal gardening techniques. By the time I offered my analysis of the script's structure, noting the parallels with math theory, several students had already begun to discern those same conclusions for themselves -- and that, to me, spells success.

In Arcadia, Hannah contends: "It's wanting to know that makes us matter. Otherwise we're going out the way we came in." At the risk of straining the conclusion with a lack of concrete data, I believe that none of us came out of the weekend quite the same; I know I didn't. With all my compatriots at Björklunden, I discovered that, at the intersection of math and drama, our fields definitely have something in common: we're both trying to describe phenomena so we can better understand our world and ourselves. Dramatists use plays; mathematicians use equations — but we both focus on the process, not just on an answer. Björklunden gave us the time, place, and mental space to ask the questions and indulge in that oh-so-liberal-arts desire: wanting to know.

More than woods and wine

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

My daughter asked, "Do they have cable?" As she thinks I am Satan incarnate for not having cable at our house, every opportunity to lock onto "the beam," as Kerouac so appropriately dubbed it, is exploited vigorously. When I explained that they didn't even have television, she really began to wonder what this "Björklunden" place was. Would she take me on my word that there aren't any sharks in Lake Michigan?

The formula was right. We were off to Lawrence-by-the-lake: me for Woods in the Morning, Wine in the Afternoon and she for The Magic of Theatre.

Nick "Doc" Maravolo, professor of biology at Lawrence, drawing from his undergraduate course repertoire, gave his all for our eclectic group of woods and wine enthusiasts. His anecdotes about rescuing students from the middle of swamps (not to be confused with meadows, bogs, or marshes) were positively hilarious. He also offered the history of the various properties visited on daily field trips. In all, Doc, demonstrating his passion for knowledge, provides a great hiatus from the dog-eat-dog world.

Believe it or not, there is a vintner right near Björklunden, making premium wines with Sonoma grapes. When I first heard this, I thought he must be crazy. However, on a field trip, I saw the vacationers streaming through the tasting room. Having well-heeled Chicagoans walking out with cases of his product keeps the winery very busy. It is safe to call their "Reserves," produced right up the county road from Björklunden, "fine wine." With the help of Doc's class, I now have a vocabulary for what I saw and tasted and can offer a discerning opinion. I can even speak extemporaneously on the wines of France after having to do a "report" for the class. If a "report" sounds too stressful, please understand two things: It did not involve PowerPoint, and it was rewarded with a tasting.

I can say that Doc's objective was met. We were supposed to come away with an understanding of what and why the habitat is where it is, but also why it is there now. As with most of what I learned at Lawrence, I was given a perspective that facilitates an inquiring mind. Veritas est Sylvania!

By Andrew Law

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

The other day a student poked her head in my door to ask if we could set up an appointment to discuss off-campus study options. As I pulled up the scheduling program on my computer, the student reached into her backpack and pulled out her Palm Pilot. We conferred for a few minutes, testing out many possibilities, only to discover in each case a conflict with one or another of her regularly scheduled activities: three classes, an internship, intramural and intercollegiate sports, and so on. I ultimately met with her before normal business hours so that she wouldn't need to wait two weeks for an appointment.

Happily, that is precisely what a retreat to Björklunden vid Sjön provides.

It is really the infamous red table and Björklunden staff member Ben Meyer's welcoming speech that serve to introduce students to the full "Björklunden Experience." Ben shares a brief history of the Boynton family and the estate, highlighting the spiritual solace the family found in this place. Then, pointing out the red table, he informs the students that, possibly unbeknownst to them, they have joined a weekend-long experiment in communal living. The red table holds the sheets to sign up for meal preparation and clean-up, as well as for Sunday lodge clean-up responsibilities. Just as the Boyntons invested time and work in building their lovely refuge, so the students have to work with their minds and hands to create their retreat weekend.

Or perhaps, on a somewhat less spiritual plane, the weekend at Björklunden might teach them only that some time away, with a balance of thinking, manual labor, and free time, is a worthwhile thing. My hunch is that many of our students will soon find themselves drawn back to Björklunden to explore that idea a bit further. In the end, that choice is the critical first step on the lifelong reflective journey in which a liberal arts education engages us, even if it must be scheduled on a Palm Pilot two months in advance.

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

When Bob Berner and his wife, Connie, arrived at Björklunden to spend the cold rainy week before Labor Day in 1985, it did not look promising. During an interview with Joe Hopfensperger '52, Bob had agreed to lead a seminar in American Indian literature. (In those days, Joe managed everything from selecting seminar leaders to cutting firewood, purchasing groceries, and grading roads on the estate.) Always looking for new talent, Joe had taken the advice of his friend, Gretchen Wilterding Maring '52, who had admired Bob's lectures at Winchester Academy, an adult-education program in the Fox Valley. On this slender thread of acquaintanceships, Bob began his career of annual Björklunden seminars, now unbroken in 17 years.

"Too many times," he says, "I had the experience of getting really wound up on my subject, practically taking my heart out of my chest and laying it on their desks, and coming to the end of it and saying, 'Do you have any questions?' -- and someone would say, 'Will this be on the exam?' That meant that, while I was talking about the subject, the student was only thinking about his grade, paying no attention to the subject, and learning nothing."

By the coffee break on the first day, Bob realized that this adult audience was different. They were interested in nothing but the subject, and their enthusiasm fed his own.

George and Barbara Donahue Larsen '49 and Gretchen Maring and a number of other Door County residents and retirees have almost unblemished records of attendance in Bob's seminars, willing to follow his enthusiasms wherever his varied scholarship and restless mind take him.

"Whatever subject he's teaching," O'Boyle adds, "that's the one I'm going to sign up for, because I know I'll learn a lot."

Bob Berner died in November 2004. The Robert L. Berner Memorial Endowment for Björklunden, established by his wife, Constance, in April 2005, supports one or more annual summer seminars.

Bob and Connie Berner's grandchildren, Martonius Mohammadian '94 and Monita Mohammadian '92 are Lawrence University graduates.

By G. Jonathan Greenwald
Stephen Edward Scarff Memorial Visiting Professor, 1998-99

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

"Let's do a poll on what we think about Iraq," said one of my students, and so the 29 participants in the seminar on "Conflict Prevention and Global Terrorism" that I offered at Björklunden late [in the summer of 2002] debated and then proceeded to vote on whether, with the information made available to that point by the Bush Administration, they supported or opposed military action against Saddam Hussein.

I knew what I was getting into, however, with my class of enthusiastic alumni, friends of Lawrence, and residents of beautiful Door County. After completing 30 years with the U.S. Foreign Service, I was fortunate to spend the 1998-99 academic year as the Stephen Edward Scarff Memorial Visiting Professor of Diplomacy and Foreign Policy teaching on Lawrence's main campus in Appleton. In the course of that year, I had made several visits to the "northern campus," as the Björklunden estate on the shores of Lake Michigan is called.

I had seen Björklunden in its autumnal elegance, as well, with a group from Lawrence who traveled by bus from Appleton to attend a recital of classical music put on by Lawrence students -- and walk the shore between steel gray lake and multi-colored forest.

So I knew when I came back across the ocean for another week in Wisconsin what I was letting myself in for: a restorative session of intellect and nature in the unique educational facility that Lawrence has made of the Boyntons' magnificent gift.

I have learned from each of my experiences. I came back from my first summer with a student's question going around in my head. "I think I understand why all those countries went to war in August 1914 thinking they could win quickly," she asked me, "but why didn't they seriously try to make peace three months later when anyone could already see it was all going horribly wrong?"

This past summer I went fearing that I had been too ambitious in setting my class an extensive reading list of books, articles, and International Crisis Group reports. I returned to Brussels after a week with a stronger appreciation of how vigorously and responsibly Americans were seeking information with which to understand and cope with a world in which they felt newly vulnerable after the attacks on New York and Washington. The class had indeed done its reading and come prepared. We used all 15 hours of class time -- as well as many more hours over informal meals taken together in the lodge's dining room.

By Mark Breseman '78
Director of Björklunden

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

I had a decision to make: either return to suburban Chicago to spend my summer cleaning offices or apply to work at an as yet unseen, purportedly idyllic Door County estate newly acquired by Lawrence University. The year was 1975, and I was nearing the end of my first year at Lawrence when I noticed an innocuous looking position description on the Job Board in Brokaw Hall. Even though I had never been to Door County and certainly had never seen this new place, I was anxious to head lakeside for the summer.

I slogged through my final exams and returned to Björklunden in my dad's beloved '68 Mercury. Even though I unloaded the car in a steady rain, my enthusiasm was not dampened. I moved into the servant's quarters of the main lodge and felt immediately at home.

I grabbed the large, ornate chapel key off its hook and dodged raindrops to the chapel entryway. After turning the key and slowly creaking the door open, I stared in awe of all Winifred had accomplished. It was the first of many magical moments spent in that chapel soaking up the quiet aura that she had so artfully created.

Under more manageable conditions, I often strolled along the trail that passes through dense cedar forest dotted with an occasional majestic birch tree and also traverses the beech-maple forest that covers much of Björklunden. All the while, it hugs the shoreline, so one can have the waves as constant companions.

I also gave chapel tours. For the first time since Donald Boynton died in 1966 and Winifred stopped coming to Björklunden, the chapel was open to the public, and they certainly took advantage. I recall finishing a tour for a packed house and stepping outside the chapel to find the waiting line stretching back to the driveway.

By Genevieve Williams '03

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

Still, my grandmother, Hester White Maury ’36, had her own version of a Door County experience: childhood summers spent on Coral Hill Road in Ephraim, swimming in the lake, playing on the rocky coastline, and eating ice cream at Wilson’s. She was married in the yard of a house on Coral Hill Road overlooking Lake Michigan, and when she had children, they made the trek from Connecticut during several summers in the 1950s and 1960s to spend weeks at a time in Ephraim.

Each year, eight students are hired as Björklunden staff, responsible for the daily workings of the lodge. We quickly discover the importance of the dishwasher and acquire adept chopping skills in the kitchen. We learn how to orchestrate the traditional Door Country fish boil and how to execute the kerosene-induced boil-over. Every week we perform a staff talent show, at which the guests are shown that the performance talents of the staff range far past clearing tables and sweeping floors.

Student workers get to know the guests and inevitably learn from the seminar topics for each week. Each new seminar brings a new group of participants and instructors, changing the dinner table conversation greatly from week to week. One of the interesting parts of the summer staff job is that, while you serve the guests, you are also encouraged to interact with them.

Also, as per tradition, we eat ice cream at Wilson’s and watch the sunset, as did my grandmother in the 1930s and my mother in the 1950s. The spirit of Door County still thrives in my family, with an assist from Björklunden.

By Timothy X. Troy ’85

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

Professor [of Biology Nicholas] Maravolo introduced me to the old lodge at Björklunden in my freshman year, the autumn of 1981. The chill air, the gentle lap of the waves, and the camaraderie of that weekend remain with me still. For me, the wonder of Björklunden remains some 20 years and a score of visits later.

However, one visit each year isn’t nearly enough, so I’ve eagerly embraced the opportunity to teach in the summer seminar program, as well.

My students returned my offering of the best and most compelling radio productions with poignant recollections of their childhoods and, at the end of the week, assured me they “got a lot” out of my course. I can assure you that the stories they shared were truly a special enrichment in my life.

To say that my first little bike ride was fun is an understatement. It felt as if I found religion! I kept asking myself, “Why did it take 39 years to discover just how much fun riding a bike on a trail can be?”

I look forward to seeing old friends and meeting new ones each time I am invited to present a summer seminar. Though the air in July isn’t quite as chilly as on my first visit with “Doc” Maravolo, the lapping waves still accompany our seminar discussions, our afternoon chats on the deck — and, yes, even a bike ride along the lake.

By Christine Ziemer ’04 and Allison Dietsche ’04

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

Working at Björklunden for the summer is a truly unforgettable experience. The land, the people, the guests, the atmosphere — everything is just incredible. This is a place where you can relax, notice nature, feel healthy, and enjoy life.

Of course, working at Björklunden isn’t all fun and games. We served meals, cooked, cleaned rooms, chopped wood, gave chapel tours, cleaned some more, mowed the lawn, and washed dishes. And, of course, there were the weekly staff talent shows. It was fun, as staff members, to get together with different people and come up with new, creative acts to perform for our guests. We did everything: skits, musical instrument performances, singing, juggling, telling bad jokes. We even put together a kitchen drum band that not only made a few talent show appearances but also became an attraction in the Fourth of July parade in Baileys Harbor.

Imagine that.

By Eilene Hoft-March, Professor of French

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

For my departmental colleagues and me, the French-language immersion program at Björklunden has been so much a part of our winter rhythm that I forget what it was like in the dark ages before the new lodge.

A little history lesson tracing how far we have come is in order. Back in 1990 our department became enthusiastic about the idea of creating a day-long immersion experience in French for our students. According to the experts, we were to spirit students away to a remote location, set up ground rules for using French only (including written materials, music lyrics, and films in French), and plan a variety of opportunities for communication in the language and about French-speaking cultures.

Thus, when Lawrence’s trustees made their wise decision to rebuild the Björklunden lodge in a grander version, our department knew exactly how we might take advantage of the facility. Our “journée” expanded into a full-fledged “week-end.” We now had space to stage all manner of activities. Björklunden’s fabulous chef, Steve Martin, cooked up at our request quiches and couscous, soupe à l’oignon, and roti de porc, and that fact alone liberated the faculty from hours of behind-the-scenes labor. We were now free to concentrate on the business and the pleasure of teaching language and culture to clusters large and small of our willingly captive audience.

When we publicize this special opportunity to students and even to a broader audience, we often call it our “laboratory,” our mini field experience that simulates something of the real field experience — in our case, living abroad in another culture.

What more can I say than “vive Björklunden”

By James Hahn ’06

Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.

When Professor of Biology Nick Maravolo suggested that I apply for the Hopfensperger Scholarship to spend a week taking a seminar at Björklunden, my initial thought was “I just finished four years of school. Why would I want to spend a week taking a class during the summer?”

Since he has come to know me well, I simply trusted his judgment that it would be an enjoyable experience, and I decided to apply. If nothing else, I thought, it would be a week in which I wouldn’t need to cook for myself.

Upon arriving at the lodge, I quickly noticed a difference between myself and every other face that I met. I was the youngest seminar attendee by at least four decades, I thought to myself. That rough estimate would prove to not be terribly off. This difference in age soon proved to be little more than a number, as my fellow students made me feel quite at ease.

Another marked difference between my visits to Björklunden as a student and this one was the staff. For the first time, fellow Lawrence students were serving my meals and cleaning after me and making my bed. As uncomfortable as I was to have friends waiting on me, I learned to adjust.

Much of the learning that week occurred not in the classroom but at mealtime and free time by the lake, talking with Doug and with the other participants. While I went to Björklunden with the intent to learn a little bit about politics — and I did — I also left with an expanded knowledge of life.