Outpost Natural Foods

Carol works at the Outpost, as a volunteer, he added. I’ve been meaning to check it out myself. Why don’t we stop? They entered a corner door. Immediately to the right stood a wooden counter with a cash register. Behind the counter sat a young woman dressed in colorful rags, who greeted them rather cheerfully. Along the wall to the right were a series of bins containing bulk items such as grains, pastas, nuts, dried fruit, brewers yeast, flours, and seeds. Along the wall to the left were bulk spices in one gallon jars, and produce All of this was self-service. Bags were provided, bringing your own bags encouraged. Along the back wall a large four glass door cooler containing perishables, including tofu. Ray remarked that it smelled like a seed store, with a hint of burlap in the air. The clientele and staff ranged in age from teens to middle thirties, and all were dressed casually to extremely shabby. Colorful rags seemed to be the fashion among women, denim, work shirts and dungarees for the men.

They asked for and received a brief introduction from a heavy set woman wearing a babushka. We’re a member-owned coop, she said. Memberships are ten dollars a year and entitle you to a ten percent discount on all purchases. You don’t have to be a member to shop here, you just don’t get a discount if you’re not. Members also get to vote on all policy issues and in all elections. If you volunteer four hours a week, you get an additional five percent discount. Volunteers clean, stock shelves, refill bins and run the cash register.

She took them into a backroom where an office of sorts had been built in to a corner. This was also the storeroom, with a rather crude though sturdy scaffolding of timber and planks containing burlap bags or cotton bags of all the bulk items.

Luke had hoped to introduce Ray to Carol, but this was evidently not her day. He couldn’t remember what she had told him. They went out to Locust Street and west to the alley, to a bar called the Riverside. Taking a seat at the bar, they ordered tap beers and Ray ordered a hard boiled egg. The bar tender, a man who had the haggard look of a heavy smoker, set the egg down on its end, just hard enough to break the shell and leave the egg standing.

East Side Walk in the Winter

The following weekend, as a light snow fell outside, the buzzer sounded. Luke buzzed down and went into the hallway to see who was coming up. It was Phaedra. I have brought some books you might be interested in, she said, turning the last bend in the stairwell. She handed him a bag. But that isn’t why I came over. I was hoping you would go for a walk with me, it’s beautiful outside.

She wore the same green coat, a bold, though not bright green, with a scarf draped over her head. Luke pulled on his watch cap and pea coat and they went out. He knew, when she suggested walking north to Lake Park, he would end up at her place for the night. He had been wondering the past two days what he would do if this came up. Would he stay? He would almost certainly stay, he knew that. Would he make it clear he was not interested in a narrowly defined relationship? In all fairness, he should.

They walked north on Prospect to Lafayette, which was just north of the Drake. Lafayette crossed a railroad track and offered a sweeping view of the harbor from the bluff, where the road swung down to the lake front. The snowfall mingled with the many sparkling lights below and in the distance. He knew this must strike her as romantic. Indeed, he felt it himself, though a certain reluctance to get involved held sway in the back of his mind. They walked north to the Water Tower and continued north on Wahl Street, named after Christopher Wahl, a mover and shaker at the turn of the century. Wahl had been instrumental in bringing Frederick Law Olstead to Milwaukee. He had also built the first rustic bridges in the many ravines running through Lake Park. In was a beautiful street, especially in the snow. On the west side stood one unique and expensive home after another. On the right, the narrow bluff over-looking the lake. About half way down this street a sidewalk branched off into the park, leading to the lion bridges and the lighthouse. This is what Phaedra wanted to show him.

I’ve been here, he said, though not at night. A friend named Delaney told me about the lions.

Who is Delaney?

An artist. When I first came here I had instructions to friend’s brother’s apartment. His girlfriend is Delaney. Phaedra was clearly relieved to hear this, and he wondered again how honest he would have to be with her.

The lions, in a lying position, with heads reared in a noble fashion, were covered with snow. There were two bridges, eight lions in all, two guarding each end of each bridge. The bridges spanned the two ravines lying on either side of the lighthouse. They were not alone, but there were not many people out walking. Every so often they would pass someone walking a dog or another couple. Beyond the bridged they came to the equestrian stature of Erastus B. Wolcott.

You see that his horse has all four feet on the ground, observed Phaedra. That is suppose to mean he died a natural death. If the horse has one foot off the ground, the rider died of wounds sustained in battle, and if two are reared, the rider died in battle.

In 1857 Dr. Laura Ross came to Milwaukee. She was the city’s first woman doctor. A distant relation of Betsy Ross, she worked closely with Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony in the woman’s suffrage movement. Wolcott advocated for her acceptance into the Milwaukee Medical Society. Though his efforts were rebuffed at first, he finally persuaded his fellow members to accept Ross in 1869. Wolcott’s wife, Elizabeth, died in 1860, and he married Laura Ross in 1869.