Rowing Against the Waves

95-year-old author shares his writing journey

By Al Parker | Aug. 19, 2023

Sitting in the kitchen of his Bellaire area home, first-time author Reg Sprik shares a secret when he talks about his new book, Rowing Against the Waves.

“I didn’t like the title at all,” says the 95-year-old with a smile. “There’s nothing about rowing in it.”

But the subtitle makes the theme of this 210-page autobiography from Mission Point Press clearer: Overcoming Adversities, Leading to a Life Well Lived.

Born at the end of the Roaring Twenties, Sprik’s childhood was defined by the Great Depression. He served in the Army during World War II, married the love of his life, Marilyn, in 1951, and together they raised two sons and two daughters across Michigan.

“I had three or four episodes that I wanted to tell,” he explains when talking about the genesis of the book. “I just wanted to get the stories out there. Then I thought, ‘just go ahead and do it.’”

Those stories were crafted on an aged hulk of a Royal typewriter that he used to write every word of his autobiography. His work on the book was time consuming; sometimes he would begin in the afternoon and go well past midnight. He says had a lot of help from family and friends organizing the copy in mostly chronological order.

From start to finish, it took Sprik over two years from the moment he first sat down at the typewriter to the day he held a copy of his book in his hands. “Oh my goodness, it was a very satisfying achievement,” he says of the moment he finally saw the fruits of his labor in print.

The Early Years

In some ways, Sprik’s story is that of thousands of others who have lived their lives in the Mitten State. Yet, this first-time author has captured—in surprising detail—a unique lifetime of nine decades and more.

“My parents were what used to be called ‘full blooded Dutch,’” he wrote. “That’s Netherlands Dutch, not Pennsylvania Dutch, who are of German descent.”

His dad, Ed, was brought into the world in the little town of Norwood in September 1888. His formal education was what might be called “seasonal,” and it’s doubtful Ed ever completed eighth grade. “My dad’s father was known to knock on the school door during spring planting and fall harvest time. ‘I need Ed to work today,’ he would tell the teacher.”

When not working on the family farm, Ed was in a lumber camp.

“Though my father was not a powerfully built man, he knew how to make any tool, particularly the double-bit ax, work to his advantage,” wrote Sprik. “Because he had become an expert at working with horses, he soon became a teamster in the logging camps. He would drive a team, pulling a sleigh piled high with logs to meet the narrow gauge railway train that would then haul the logs to the sawmill. It was dangerous work.”

That danger streak was apparently passed down to young Reg.

There were incidents involving BB guns, including one that was “deeply ingrained” in his young conscience. Reg urged a cousin to shoot him in the rear. The cousin knew it was wrong, but reluctantly squeezed off a round. “It was not the shot heard ’round the world, but could very well have been the ‘Y-O-W-L heard ’round Arlene,’” Sprick says. “It stung like a thousand bees, and without letup. My cousin, now beside himself with guilt, apologized nonstop.”

From the Baseball Field to the Army

When Reg was a teen, his dad took a job managing a potato warehouse in Manton, and the family settled there. Sprik played baseball and basketball, and throughout his high school years, life revolved around sports and music. (He also played clarinet and drums.)

Baseball was what first lured him away from home. With $5 tucked in a pocket and his first baseman’s glove hooked to his belt, 16-year-old Sprik walked to U.S. 131 and headed to Battle Creek where the St. Louis Cardinals were holding a tryout camp. Walking and hitching rides, Sprik got to the camp, where he learned more in three days than in his whole previous baseball career. But at the end of the camp, a problem arose.

“I ran out of money and was 200 miles from home,” he wrote. “One of the guys offered me a loan of $5. I promised to return it as soon as I returned home.”

But Sprik lost the lender’s address and was unable to repay the money. “Many years later, I was still haunted by the idea of defaulting on a loan,” he wrote.

Shortly after graduation, in June 1946, Sprik enlisted in the Army, but wasn’t called up until Oct. 1, when he was processed at Fort Sheridan in Illinois and completed basic training at Fort Dix, New Jersey. But a hernia problem flared up, requiring surgery, which did not go well.

During his hospital stay, Sprik’s unit was sent to Japan as part of the Army of Occupation. He was eventually sent to a base near Boston where he joined the Military Police; then it was learned he could type and he was given desk duties. His military stint ended in March 1948.

“I left the army separation center, received my honorable discharge and $200 mustering out pay, walked out the main gate, and hitchhiked back to Manton,” he wrote. “I was not really the type of person suited for military life…I did, however, honorably serve my country, and that is something I’ll never regret.”

After the Army, Sprik enrolled at Western Michigan College and played football as a walk-on for the Broncos. It was at Western that he met Marilyn Carlson—fast-forward to August 24, 1951, and they were married and honeymooned in the U.P.

A Family Man

Over the decades, Sprik worked as a teacher, a lifeguard, textbook salesman, and coach of several sports teams. There was also a stint running the family’s 40-acre farm, populated with chickens, ducks, goats, and pigs.

In 1953, Sprik graduated with a bachelor of science degree and a teaching certificate. He took a job teaching in Wyandotte, then another in Lake City. The family was growing quickly—son Dave was born in 1952, then Bob in 1954. Daughter Jan came along in 1955 and Nancy three years later.

As the children grew, the family was very active. Camping, hunting, ball games, music, and traveling were highlights for the Sprik clan. One trip involved the six of them traveling west in a Volkswagen Beetle while pulling a 14-foot fishing boat. They drove that Bug through the Dakotas and into Wyoming with a stop at Yellowstone National Park.

In 1969, the family moved to Bellaire, where the children prospered in academics and athletics. At first they rented a home, but in 1972 they bought acreage east of the village and began building a new home.

“Considering the fact that I had never built as much as a bird house, I now fully realized the difficult task before us,” wrote Sprik. “I was undeterred, however.”

Step by step, Reg, Dave, Bob, and friend Doug Watrous did the framing on the entire house. A roofer was hired and other experts were consulted during the construction. In June 1973, they moved in.

Eventually Reg returned to one of his early loves: music. He formed a dance band to play at weddings and other events. Then he joined a quartet of two men and two women and a piano player, known as the Messengers of Melody. “We were busy,” he recalls. “One year we performed as many as 50 concerts in churches, school gyms, and concert halls. We recorded two studio albums.”

The relocation of one member, the retirement of the piano player, and other interests eventually resulted in the Messengers of Melody’s demise. But that didn’t end Sprik’s musical adventures. He bought a trombone, learned to play it, and joined the Jordan Valley Community Band. And now, at 95, he still plays harmonica and vocalizes with the Brighter Day Dance Band, made up of folks who live in and around Antrim County.

The Latest Chapters

In 2007, four days after their 56th wedding anniversary, Sprik lost his beloved Marilyn to a neurological condition.

“It has now been nearly 15 years since that awful day,” he wrote. “I never want to forget the good times Marilyn and I had together, and I still shed a tear when I look at her photo on the living room piano. That will never change, nor do I want it to change.

“But I have a wonderful family that has stood by my side through my ordeal, and, although I still miss Marilyn terribly, my grief is no longer all-consuming. Music, support of my family, and good friends have helped me along the way.”

The book itself has been another avenue toward finding healing. Sprik says that he was inspired by a Teddy Roosevelt quote stuck on his refrigerator: “Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure…than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.”

“I did it [wrote the book] to leave a legacy for children and grandchildren,” Sprik tells Northern Express. “To tell them how life really was. It’s not the writing of a historian or researcher. It’s first hand—I lived it.”

That first-hand experience has resonated with readers around the North. Sprik has done multiple book events already, with more to come. Special memories from those moments include connecting with the daughter of a former high school basketball teammate and signing books for a middle school Social Students teacher from Evart who was going to add the book to his classroom collection.

So is there another book in the works from Sprik? “No, I don't see any reason for it,” he says. “I don’t have any more books in me.”

That means you’d better go find yours at a local retailer. Sprik also has a number of meet-the-author sessions planned for coming months. He will sign copies of Rowing Against the Waves at the East Jordan Historical Society on Oct. 11, at the Cadillac Senior Center on Nov. 9, and the Alden Library on Jan. 14.