The continuing treasure we found when my family and I moved to Storm Lake

Kregg Halstead

When my family and I moved to Storm Lake in August 1972, I almost immediately understood that the Storm Lake community was special. And while I am sure that each of the surrounding communities of Alta, Albert City, Aurelia, Early, Nemaha, Newell, Rembrandt, Schaller, Sioux Rapid, and Truesdale were nice places, we Storm Lakers had something that no one else had. Our big, blue (shining and sparkling under the sun), beautiful (even gorgeous) lake.

The lake defined us. It made our town unique. It gave us — “The City Beautiful” — our identity. For us children, it was the focus of our lives. We had Circle Park. We had Sunset Park. We had Chautauqua Park. We had Sunrise Park. We had Frank Starr Park. We skated on it. We played hockey on it. We shoveled snow off it. We fished in it. We snowmobiled on it. We boated on it. We water-skied in it.

When I was six, my parents must have been smoothing over that we were leaving Aplington and moving to Storm Lake, by talking up the lake. So on the very day in late May 1972 when we first came for a day visit, I didn’t care if my parents had more important adult things to do, like looking at where my dad was going to be working or finding a house. I had been promised that I would get to go swimming. So despite it already being dusk, that we still had a three-hour drive back to Aplington in front of us, that my parents must not have yet known where the beaches were or that the water temperature was cold to chilly, I got to take my first dip in the lake at the bandshell. So, we also swam in it.

In athletic competitions with other venerable members of the Lakes Conference, I always felt fortunate that I was from Storm Lake. Cherokee and Spencer had to make do with rivers and basically small ponds resulting from dams. Emmetsburg’s Five Island Lake was smaller than ours. I don’t think Sheldon, Sibley or Estherville had anything at all. And what for that Storm Lake was said to only be the fourth biggest natural lake in Iowa, I had seen in person both Clear Lake and West Lake Okoboji, and with their many coves and fingers as opposed to our lake being rounder and visible as a whole, I always doubted that our lake was actually smaller, like this statistic was a 1970s version of fake news. And Spirit Lake, while okay, bigger, seemed farther away and less integrated into its town.

And I always thought that Storm Lake had multiple personalities as it was a different lake if you were mowing lawns on Renshaw Drive high above as opposed to the laid-back lake off Emerald Park or the rugged, less explored lake where there was no commercial access road. And unlike swimming say, in Lake Superior, which as a child gave me huge trepidations to even go out a couple of steps, I always found and thought of our lake as our friend. It was shallow. It protected us. In late summer the water was delightfully warm and despite its name, I never remember too many storms or large waves.

The lake seemed to be a living organism, and I remember in say, the summer of 1975, due to a severe summer drought, with the shoreline terribly receding, being very concerned about our lake. And I loved our three islands and as soon as my family got a boat with a motor in say 1981, the first thing my friends and I did was set sail for the Big Island. We didn’t find any castaways or headhunters, but it was great adventure. And we knew the topography of the entire lake exceedingly well, and when we discovered on our mopeds that heading south on Highway 110 and taking a left and passing through the Casino area and then over some beach and not-so-rugged woods, you could make it over to Stoney Pointe (saving like three miles off of the normal route), it was like we had found the Northwest Passage.

And the lake also brought physical challenges — two friends and I decided on a hot summer day around 1977 (I think between fifth and sixth grades) to attempt to ride our bikes around it for the first time and by the time we got to the Cobblestone, I knew this was a bad idea. I think we were lucky we did not die from thirst peddling over the seemingly endless hills between Bel Air Beach and the airport (we got some water finally at the Country Store near the inlet which never tasted so good).

And being able to run around the lake (11 miles) without stopping for the first time in 1984 is at the top of anything I ever accomplished sports-wise.

The lake was mine. The lake was yours. It was ours. It enriched our lives. Storm Lake was (and forever is) the gem and jewel of Northwest Iowa.

Kregg Halstead’s family lived in Storm Lake from 1972-1986, and he graduated from Storm Lake High School in 1984.