NORTON SHORES, Michigan — When it comes to your hometown, many would be hard-pressed to think of a landmark that they've never seen before.
The same goes for drivers on Pontaluna Road in Norton Shores, who know the landmark at house number 706 like the back of their hand.
But there seems to be a mystery afoot. Or, on hand may be more fitting.
The giant hand sculpture hanging in the pine trees of 706 West Pontaluna has been there for 40 years. No one quite knew why.
To tell us the answer, we went straight to the source—the owner of the roadside mitt, Stacy Patronik.
“Usually when I tell somebody my address, they have no clue," she said. "But if I tell them the house in Pontaluna that has a huge hand hanging in between the pine trees in the front area, they know right where it's at.”
Stacy said it may be more fitting to call the sculpture a hand-me-down.
“It was originally a piece at for 'The Magical Flute.' It was a play that was done at DeVos Hall that my dad was a stagehand for and they were going to throw it away," she explained. "And so he said, 'Can I have it?'"
She said this behavior was normal to her and her sister, who were just kids at the time. Her dad was a bit of a pack rat, also taking home a large fake boulder from the play that looked like "dinosaur dung," Stacy laughed.
“He had a couple of his buddies that he worked with that rigged the lights during the concerts. And they actually rigged it up in the pine trees for him. So, yeah, it's been up there ever since," she said, looking to the sculpture in her front yard.
It was once nearly dumped out the stage door. Now, it’s transformed into the community’s treasured piece of lawn décor.
“When people come by, they usually stop and take pictures and stuff," Stacy laughed. “It's a pretty iconic piece. Kind of like Hard Rock Cafe kind of thing, you know what I mean?”
She says Domino's Pizza always struggled to find her house. That is, until she brought up its calling card. Now, she finds "the hand house" printed on every pizza box.
"They're like, 'That's your house?' and I'm like, 'Yeah, that's my house.'"
Stacy is used to seeing strangers in her front yard or even making the journey up to the front door, trying to solve the mystery of the hand. But one experience stuck with her.
“One little girl, she gave me a letter about how they come and they camp at PJ Hoffmaster every year, and they've been doing it for like, 13 years," she said. "She knows she's getting closer when she's able to see the hand.”
So, how did it fall into Stacy’s… hands? It came down to a contract.
“My mom and dad lived here after he retired from the army," she said, gesturing to the yellow house along Pontaluna. “So we actually bought it from them. Actually, in the land contract, he had it written up that the hand had to stay in the tree.”
Stacy may not have kept the hand up if it were up to her. But over time, it's become more of a symbol to her, a reminder of what she lost.
“He was different. He liked to be the center of attention," she said.
Her dad, unfortunately, carried more than the memories of his time serving.
“He had bone cancer from the Agent Orange in Vietnam," Stacy said.
He went to the hospital one day for a cut on his foot. After surgery, he didn't recover as doctors had hoped. Stacy rushed to be by his side.
“He passed away the next day," she said. “I didn't make it to the hospital on time. So that was really hard.”
In the mitten state, every Michigander knows you simply hold up your hand and point to a spot to show where home is.
But for Stacy, home is the place where she's still holding her father's hand.
"I think if it wasn't up there, it'd be odd. The yard wouldn't be the yard, the house wouldn't be the house,” she said, smiling. "So, yeah, I'm proud.”
