The Cascades

For three days this week I was in Jackson, Michigan, which is a place that is not noted for being a tourist destination. It is a smallish city, about 33,000 residents, that lies about an hour west of Detroit. Like many Michigan cities, it has seen better days.

I was there for my grandmother's interment. She and my grandfather were born and raised there, and though they hadn't lived in Jackson for over sixty years they chose to be buried there. My mother was born there, but left at a very young age. I hadn't been there in over forty years; I have faint memories of visiting my great-grandmother, my grandmother's mother, when I was a little kid.

The city isn't noted for much. It was settled in 1829 and named after President Andrew Jackson. It is one of the cities that claims to be the "birthplace of the Republican Party;" Wikipedia notes that that title is in dispute, but Jackson did have the first meeting of people who called themselves Republicans, way back in 1854. This is appropriate, as all of my mother's people are die-hard followers of the G.O.P. It is also the hometown of football coach Tony Dungy, and as I was strolling through the cemetery I saw a headstone with that name on it; surely it is one of his relatives.

As a family we spent most of the time together, having a ceremony, eating communal meals, or frolicking in the motel pool. But on the last night my uncle convinced a few of us to go to something called The Cascades. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I was up for anything, even if it was raining lightly. It turns out that The Cascades is a large combination waterfall and fountain system that features colored lights. It has been there a long time--it opened in 1932, and was the brainchild of a man named Sparks (he had a radio factory in Jackson). It's the kind of thing that would have been a big deal back in those days, and my uncle said my grandparents used to go there on dates and neck. Now it seems like a relic of more innocent times, and it's kind of surprising it's still there.

But it was fun to visit. My ten-year-old nephew had a blast, running up the steps to the top, getting soaked not only from the rain but from the spray of the fountains. Oldies blasted on the sound system ("She was black as the night, Louie was whiter than white..."). We finished a circuit of the thing just as they announced they would be closing due to an incoming thunderstorm.

I doubt I ever get back to Jackson again. But if any of you out there have reason to be there, check out The Cascades. I've never seen anything like it, and even in this day and age it seems exceedingly quaint, there's also something very charming about it.