Barring another year of record late ice-out dates, the end of March marks the threshold of another summer lake season in Annandale.
The tradition of leaving the hustle of everyday life behind for the sanctuary of the area’s quiet waters stretches back nearly as far as the foundation of Annandale itself.
Generations passed warm summer days at a myriad of lake resorts in the early days, and on the shores at family-owned cabins, but few in the area have roots reaching deeper into the past than Lake Sylvia’s Dick Anderson and Jerry Johnson.
Discovering the lakes
Anderson’s father worked for Ford Motor Company as an accountant, and at one point in the 1920s stopped at the Lundeen dealership in Annandale to help with accounting systems.
"He liked it here," said Anderson.
So, like countless others, the family began to establish a warm-weather presence in the area. At first, somewhere between 1924 and 1928, they stayed at Dunton’s Resort on Pleasant Lake, just east of what is now Municipal Park. The next year they stayed at the Casselius Resort on the west side of Pleasant Lake.
The next step was the Idle Hour Resort on East Lake Sylvia, around 1930, and later the Cozy Comfort Resort on West Lake Sylvia in 1933 and 1934. In the early ’30s Anderson remembered that the price to rent a cabin for the summer season was $60, and Lake Sylvia alone had at least 11 different resorts at one time or another.
After several summers in the area, the Andersons were hooked, and Dick’s father purchased the land his house now sits on overlooking the west lake in 1934.
"Our summers during our school years, we stayed here from the day the school was out to Labor Day weekend, and then we did come out some weekends also," Anderson said. "There was no other way of life for us. It was exciting to come here, no question about it."
By 1934 the Great Depression was in full swing, but the family was able to maintain its summers on the lake. Anderson’s father kept working through the summer months, commuting to the cities on Mondays, returning Wednesday nights with groceries and supplies, then heading back to work until the weekend.
There was no electricity or bathroom facilities at the lake cabin until after World War II, so kerosene "Aladdin lamps" and outhouses were standard equipment.
"I can remember going in with a horse and buggy wagon to grocery shop in Annandale," said Anderson. "That was in the days when it was all gravel and there were hitching posts in front of the various stores, like Dunton Hardware, which is now Kaz Hardware, and so forth."
While many of the modern amenities one might expect today were lacking, the lake itself provided all the excitement a child could want.
"Recreation was nothing like it is today, that’s for sure. There was a lot of fishing," said Anderson, remembering huge numbers of northern, walleye and herring. "Our recreation was pretty much the diving dock and swimming. I had a canoe, and we did a lot of rowing. There weren’t many motors on the lake."
Johnson is about a decade younger than Anderson. He spent his childhood summers at the lake from 1935 to 1949 when he graduated from high school.
"I started so early, that was my way of life. But comparing it to my friends in town, they were envious as all get-out, because there were no Little Leagues. There was no organized anything for kids, but we always had something to do," said Johnson. "Where I lived (on the east lake) there were two or three other families with kids, so we played kick the can and we swam together. Every day it was our job to walk up to where the mail came, which was a mile and a half. It gave us something to do."
Johnson also had a summer job selling ice that had been sawed out of the lake during the winter months and stored in a large ice house on his family’s property. Before the days of refrigerators, ice boxes had to be kept well stocked.
"In the winter we harvested the ice. You cut it out of the lake, put it up in an ice house and packed it with sawdust so it didn’t melt too much over the summer," said Johnson. "I kept a book on it. We put up 21 tons. We sold seven and 14 of it melted. But the math worked out and that’s how you did it."
The dry years
One of the factors that compounded the misery of the Depression years was the Dust Bowl, a period of sustained drought, and those dry years hit Lake Sylvia hard. During that time, the channel connecting the east and west lakes was completely closed.
"You couldn’t get through there at all," said Johnson. "You couldn’t get a boat through there. It was solid cattails. It wasn’t until the late ’30s or early ’40s, my brother and I finally pushed a boat through there. Now it’s wide open and you can go through with your motor."
Shorelines receded dramatically, and shallow areas of the lake emerged to become islands. Johnson remembered spending time on Grass Island in the east lake.
"When we were kids we’d take a boat out there, park it and walk over to a duck blind. It was above water and there were trees. Now it’s probably four feet deep," he said.
Lake Sylvia obviously wasn’t the only body of water affected.
"The dry years, gosh, Lake Francis wasn’t even a lake," said Johnson.
"That’s right. It was just a marsh," Anderson confirmed.
Gangsters and gambling
Lake Sylvia is hardly alone among area lakes when it comes to rumors of 1930s gangsters finding refuge there. Anderson said that gang members from Kansas City made Cozy Comfort their place for rest and relaxation around the late 1920s or early ’30s, shortly before his family began vacationing there.
"These were the days of Baby Face Nelson and Bonnie and Clyde, Dillinger, all of whom were here," said Anderson. "Bridle Beach was a hangout too. Down at Bridle Beach, they closed that down because of a couple of murders. This was the day of moonshining. It got pretty raucous."
Anderson admitted that he never saw the criminals himself, but believed the stories.
"While it’s hearsay about Cozy Comfort and the Kansas City gang, I think it’s probably pretty well documented," he said, adding that he heard the stories from the Cozy Comfort owner’s sons.
Johnson also mentioned a "house of ill repute" where whiskey was sold during Prohibition and the upstairs bedrooms housed prostitutes. That building is still in use today, though for milder pursuits.
One of Johnson’s brothers also worked at a resort where "one-armed bandits" – slot machines – were used.
"They were illegal, but common" Johnson said. "The resort always got tipped off when there was going to be a raid. One of (my brother’s) jobs was to hide the things. They hid them in the water. They hid them in the ice house under the sawdust, but they had them."
Despite the wild nature of some of the lake’s real or rumored inhabitants, neither Anderson or Johnson ever felt threatened.
"I’d walk or hitchhike into Annandale as a teen or pre-teen, and that didn’t bother my folks a whit," said Johnson. "We could go anywhere we wanted. They didn’t expect anything bad to happen to us, because nothing bad did happen."
End of the resort era
Today, Anderson still lives in the cabin originally built in 1934. It has seen some additions and has been moved up onto a foundation for year-round living. He and his wife Betty moved to the property full time from Bloomington after his retirement from insurance work in 1999.
"In retrospect, we both agree now that we should have come a lot sooner because of the area and because we like it. No way would we ever move back to the city, unless health determined that we had to do that," he said.
Johnson also returned to the lake full time from Bloomington in 1997.
A lot has changed since their boyhood days.
"There were all those resorts back then and now there are none," said Johnson. "They were all sold because the property was more valuable than renting out a cabin that had 2-by-4 walls and screens on them."
The memories, and of course Lake Sylvia itself, remain. When the lake finally sheds its icy blanket this spring, yawns away the slumber of winter and rises for a new season, fresh generations will be waiting to carry on the summer tradition.
"We were very happy to come out and be able to swim all summer," said Johnson. "It was a way of life we enjoyed greatly."