Rendevous

      In October, 1991, Peoria celebrated its 300th birthday.  The city is the oldest continuous European settlement in the state.  I was part of the History and Research Committee.  This is a paper I wrote for an English class at ICC  about one of the events.

      The journey had started at Henry, Illinois.  They had stopped at towns along the way and camped overnight.  The night before, their encampment had been at Chillicothe.  Each morning they would take their vehicles down to that evening's campsite and this night they would be in Peoria.  We were part of the cavalcade that would drive them back up to have breakfast before they started down river again for the Tricentennial Grand Opening and the reenactment of the first Voyageurs coming down the Ilinois River with Henri DeTonti in 1691.
      Seven men dressed in authentic garb, introduced themselves and then piled into my old station wagon for the ride north.  Reaching for my seat belt, I got a handful of flesh, the man sitting close beside me, a dentist from Chicago was wearing not buckskin leggings, as I had thought, but a breech cloth and thigh high moccasin boots.  "Well,"  I told him, very surprised, "I didn't realize we were going to get quite so intimate!"  He and the others chuckled and as we traveled up Route 29, told me of their involvement with recreating the Voyageur way of life.  
       In their group, were doctors, engineers, a janitor, computer operators, a lawyer and a few retired persons.  Most were canoe enthusiasts who hunted, fished and enjoyed camping.  Their reenactments were on weekends or during vacation, so they brought their families along and they too dressed in seventeenth century garb.
       The majority were Midwesterners but a few were from as far north as Ontario, Canada.  An interest in canoeing history had led them to the North American Voyageur Council, the organization that sponsored such assemblies and brigades, such  as the Tricentennial Grand Voyage,  and the reenactment each year at Fort Creve Couer.
       From our conversation and from what I had learned researching Peoria's history, the Voyageur was a lusty fellow.  He was short, gregarious and roamed and trapped on the waterways of middle America.  Mostly, French Canadian, he loved women, his own and the Native American ones, telling tall tales, singing and drinking wine.  For these reasons, they usually lived outside the Forts.  However, this energetic, genial backwoodsman, was respected because he worked hard and never complained about the primitive way of life.  He could be counted on in a skirmish, but preferred to avoid one, and unlike his English and American counterparts, was well-liked by the Native Americans.
       At about four o'clock on that Friday afternoon, we all met again.  While I was standing on the bank of a grassy area at Detweiller Marina with about fifteen hundred other people, around a curve in the river came seven long canoes with flags and banners flying and brimming with people and supplies.  The canoe paddles skimmed across the water as the crafts came serenely and swiftly to shore.  The crowd began to cheer and as the vessels got closer to land, a loud welcoming roar went up.  After the canoes plowed into shore,  and everyone disembarked, one of their number, portraying a black-garbed Jesuit priest, led them in a prayer of thanksgiving for the safe journey.  Following a quick introduction of local dignitaries and assorted speeches, Hana Sine of the Winnebago Tribe, welcomed the reenactors in a moving authentic Pipe Smoking ceremony.
      Afterward, the Voyageurs began to set up camp and invited all those present to watch, help or ask questions.  Hay bales had been scattered throughout the area to be used for seating and their bedding.  All of their gear and the modern amenities to which we are accustomed was stowed in burlap bags.  They quickly put up their tents and built a huge bonfire in the center of the ring of primitive dwellings.  Some canvas structures had their own fire pit in front and before long the sound and smell of coffee being made in rustic pots filled the air.
       That night, about 9:30, after checking if the voyageurs needed a ride for groceries or to use a phone, (1991 was pre-cell phones) we prepared to leave.  Before getting into our car, we turned and looked towards the river.  The scene was from another era.  The moonlight zigzagged across the river and onto the trees and rocks along the water's edge.  It shone on that small settlement just as it had on another three hundred years before.  But most astonishing, was that this peaceful, historical oasis was situated in the heart of Peoria's inner city.

   I received an A on the paper and this is the instructor's comment:  I like the ending!  you've hit on the contrast.  You've combined a profile of a person (or a type of person) and an event effectively - really, you've created a capsule portrait of a whole time period.