Walter Haag, my Father

My Father passed away last week, at home, after a long illness. My brother Fred, my Mother, and a good friend were with him when he passed.

I have had lots of thoughts about Dad, here, I will post some memories of this old school "silent sports" enthusiast.

When the environmental movement came on the scene, my Dad sounded skeptical: "If kids are concerned about the environment, let them start cleaning their rooms!" But on the very first Earth Day, Dad went with me to the "teach in" that my science teacher held at Lakeland high School.

Dad was very proud of his work as Boulder Junction town chair to restrict outboard motors on smaller lakes and to create an extra layer of protection by passing a 200 foot lakefront zoning rule. Dad worked for many years as the maintenance supervisor and unofficial mentor at the University of Wisconsin Limnology lab at Trout Lake. He made many good friends.

Dad skiied all over the northwoods of Boulder Junction as a kid, before anyone in the area had heard of waxing skis. When I bought my first true cross country skis, Dad was skeptical of the claims that wax would allow you could go up hill and not stick on the way down. But when he tried it, he was hooked. He skied well into his 60's, cigarette in one hand. I remember him telling us he followed a coyote up the Manitowish River. Now, that is a picture to remember my father by.

In the summers, he spent his free time walking old logging roads, for hours and hours.

Another animal story: When Dad lived in Boulder, he tried for a couple of years to grow a garden. He always railed about the hordes of rabbits, and he would say "I am NEVER going to garden again! But he was observed more than once just standing there, watching the rabbits chomping contentedly, as if he had grown the garden for them.

Dad never let anyone rest with their political opinions. He hated hypocrisy and cliches, and would call you out if you thought you guilty of them. But he would always come around to seeing something in an opinion that was different than his.

You couldnl't be around my father without being connected to him-he wanted to know about you, what you did, what you thought. He loved kidding, and being kidded. He loved reading, and wanted everyone in the world to read the play "The Iceman Cometh".