By Gail DeMeyere
On Monday, September 1, 2026, I heard the news that my grandmother's sister Eileen Minda Huhta had passed, nine months shy of her 100th birthday. Eileen and her first husband Edwin ran the Gem Motel in Bruce Crossing, Michigan which was a favorite resting place for weary hunters and travelers. There they raised their two children, Jack and Sandy.
Across the road was the family farmhouse where Eileen and her siblings Mary, Lempi, Elsie, Ted, Albert, George, Waino and Eino Haapala were born and raised. With this news of Eileen’s passing, memories of my time on Gem Hill (as it is known to anyone around Bruce Crossing) and Aunt Eileen floated in. I realized it is truly the end of an era.
I have written about Gem Hill before, describing Eileen’s brothers Ted, Albert and George being the musicians on the hill, known to everyone as, “The Boys.” Now, I reflect on Eileen and the passage of a rich legacy that our family has inherited from all of the original nine children, born of Finnish immigrants Sophia and Henry Haapala. Eileen was the last to close the door, and I imagine they are sitting at a large heavenly table laughing, passing pulla, and drinking kahvi.
My earliest memory of Aunt Eileen was as a 5-year-old at her kitchen table being offered my first cup of kahvi with cream and sugar, Trenary Toast on the side. Truly I had become a next-generation Finn as this seemed to me a rite of passage. The toast was a baked, sliced, covered with sugar and cinnamon, toasted, packaged in a brown paper sack with red letters blocked in, “Trenary Toast.” Memories of this brick-like treat, which you dip in your coffee before eating to prevent any dental injury, lives forever in my consciousness. It is still available for purchase.
Eileen was never slow to offer an opinion. One fall day, I was in Bruce Crossing on an art exploratory tour as my career involved procuring work for exhibitions. I was also a knitwear designer, so I often wore handmade articles that I had created. Before a day trip to Hancock, I was wearing a deep purple sweater with white flecks and patterning that Eileen was admiring, she told me how much she liked it.
On my day’s adventure, I met with a dear friend of mine, Joyce Koskinen. I had always admired Joyce’s artwork but at the time I never thought I would be able to acquire one of her paintings. In her studio I was taken by the image of a bird perched on a wall where there were nooks, cervices and small stones balancing amongst the openings. As I admired the painting Joyce said that perhaps we could make a trade, a painting for a sweater.
I was thrilled at the thought and started to ask Joyce what kind of sweater she would like, what color? When she pointed at one I was wearing, I assumed that she would want a new version, as this sweater had been worn and needed a freshening up. She said, “No, I would like that one.” In disbelief, I pulled off my sweater and presented it to her in exchange for “Bird on a Wall.”
I was grinning from ear to ear at my good fortune and could not wait to share Joyce’s amazing painting with my family on the hill. When I arrived, Eileen was waiting for an evening visit. She spotted that I was not wearing my sweater and asked what had happened to it. When I had proudly presented the treasure that I received in exchange she looked at me twice and said, “I would have kept the sweater!” The abstraction of this painting was not for her. It struck me as so funny since I felt I was clearly the better for the trade.
In time, I made a sweater for my Aunt Eileen, and Joyce still wears my purple sweater. It all worked out in the end.
photo courtesy Gail Demeyere
A tender memory of Eileen was on another quiet evening at my grandmother Elsie’s table where the two of us were talking about my copy of the Aapinen that I had just purchased at North Wind Books in Hancock. The Aapinen is a Finnish primer that teaches the alphabet with simple poems and stories to guide children while they are learning to read. She was translating the poems for me in her thick Finnish accent while I was taking notes, line by line, so that I could compare the two later. We were both struck at the beauty and elegance of the poem, “Lasten Loululaulu,” or in English, “The Children’s Christmas Carol,” one that Eileen remembered from her childhood.
Lasten Loululaulu
Joulupuu on rakennettu,
Joulu on jo ovella,
Makeisia ripustettu ompi kuusen oksilla.
Kuusen pienet kynttilät valaisevat kauniisti,
Ympärillä lapsukaiset laulelevat sulosti.
Kiitos Sulle, Jeesuksemme, kallis Vapahtajamme!
Kun Sä tulit vieraaksemme,
Paras joululahjamme.
Tullessasi toit sä valon, lahjat rikkaat,
Runsaat, autuuden ja anteeks’annon,
Kaikki taivaan tavarat. —
Anna, Jeesus, Henkes hyvän meidän
Sydämihimme viritellä uskon valon!
Siunaa, Jeesus, joulumme!
Children’s Christmas Carol
The Christmas tree has been put up,
Christmas is at our door,
Sweets have been hung on the branches of the firtree
The small candles on the tree are beautifully lit,
Around there are children singing sweetly.
Thank You, Jesus, our dear Savior!
When You came as our guest,
Our best Christmas present.
When you came, you brought light, rich gifts, Bountiful, of bliss and forgiveness,
All the stars of heaven. —
Let your Spirit, Jesus, kindly awaken the
Light of faith in our hearts!
Bless us, Jesus, our Christmas!
I knew at the time that I was living in rarified air with my Aunt Eileen. We sat and read the Aapinen, and with each passage, she harkened back to Christmas on Gem Hill. Christmas Eve was spent at The Boys house across the road with music and dancing and plenty of joy. People would pull up in snowmobiles or cars or walk up the hill. Treats were passed around the table; the pot was on the stove. Late in the evening everyone would pack into cars and drive to Our Savior Lutheran Church in Paynesville for the Christmas Eve service.
On Christmas Day, the gathering shifted down the hill and across the road to my grandmother Elsie’s house. Hours of preparation went into the feast. When there was not space left in the refrigerator to keep things cold, food was placed outside into the snowbank to chill. Elsie invited all the family that was within driving distance and anyone who was going to be alone or was new to the area to share in the celebration. It would not have been Christmas for her if she knew that someone was alone without the gift of fellowship. As I reflected upon this with my mother Edith she wondered at how all the people managed to fit into such a small house but manage, they did!
And with the passage of time, changes have fallen onto our beloved Bruce Crossing. I recently discovered that the family church in Paynesville is soon to close its doors. This is the church where I remember my aunt Betty getting married to my uncle Rodney Mattson. On that day my core memory is that my father was to walk Betty down the aisle and to ensure that I remained seated and quiet in my pew he handed me a white envelope just before the service. I knew that this must be an important prize for an important occasion. As I pulled the envelope open, I peered upon two pieces of Bazooka Joe Bubble Gum, a sure trick to keep me occupied. My favorite treat and two comics to boot. I was in 5-year-old heaven.
This is also the church where we celebrated my grandmother Elsie’s 75th birthday. The church kitchen was abuzz with activity as everyone loved Elsie. She, with her heart of gold, she gave us hours of stories, a lover of children (a quintessential story was the Carrot Boat Going Down the Gungunabaas River) always watchful for those in need, always with a laugh and the saying, “You might as well laugh about it, no use crying about it, eh?” Her funeral was in Our Saviour of Lutheran Church and what stands out to me was when Mike Urbis stood in the back of the church singing “How Great Thou Art” in his rich and resonant Finnish voice. To this day, when I hear that song, it brings me back to that moment.
The church opened its doors one last time to receive the life of dear aunt, Eileen Minda Huhta, and people gathered to celebrate a full life well lived. And as a family, we will also celebrate the memories of our days on the hill and the time that we spent together.