Bride In the Tower: The Story Of A Traverse City Icon

The dreams began for Bonnie Sobbry at a young age.

Maybe they were influenced by her strong love of various English novels. Perhaps they came from someplace else, or no particular place at all.

Either way, there they were – vivid images of a woman in a tower. Sometimes it was a castle tower, other times something different, or less specific. But almost every time she saw a woman looking down over her surroundings, often with a mournful air about her.

“I just knew it had something to do with my life, and I’m a big believer that nothing is coincidence,” Sobbry tells The Ticker. “Sometimes we remember things from past lives. So I just believed it was information I was gathering for some purpose, but I didn’t know what.”

These dreams took on very significant meaning for Sobbry after her husband, Robert Huff, died in 1972. The loss left her to raise two young boys by herself in the stately Victorian home on Sixth Street that the couple purchased in 1964.

Huff had been the head X-ray technician at the old osteopathic hospital, and losing him had a profound impact on Sobbry and her boys. Even now, she discusses her life in two distinct eras.

“I go by before Bob died, and after,” she says.

Bob is now honored by a mannequin dressed as a bride in the tower of Sobbry’s home, an item that over the course of two decades has become one of Traverse City’s most talked about attractions.

Flowers to Tower

It was the early 1980s when Sobbry was captivated by something she saw in her friend’s floral shop. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the connection was strong.

“I walked in there one day, and he had this beautiful bride mannequin, because he did wedding arrangements with the flowers and stuff. And I said, ‘If you ever want to get rid of that, let me know,’” Sobbry says. “He picked it up right there on the spot and said ‘Where’s your car?’ Turns out he’d been trying to get rid of it for a long time. I had a big Cadillac at the time, so it fit in.”

Fast forward to 2003, when she saved up enough money for a long-held plan to (among other renovations) rebuild the tower on her home. It had been removed in the 1950s, before she and Bob even bought the house. As far as anyone can tell, it was taken down to reduce maintenance and perhaps to lower the home’s fire risk.

A friend studied every old photograph available and spent several months building a faithful replica of the original tower that was eventually hoisted up by crane, much to the delight of a gathered crowd and local TV news crews. It was also a special moment for Sobbry and her two adult children.

“I have a picture of Randy and Bill sitting out there on the bench together watching the whole thing the day they put it up. And Billy said to Randy that mom has finally realized her dream,” she says. “I remember that so vividly.”

From the get-go, a big part of that dream was to put the bride up in the restored tower in honor of Bob. It didn’t happen right away, but a wine-fueled front porch session with a dear friend a few months later was enough to get the job done.  

“I told (my friend) I couldn’t do it alone, so she said, ‘Let’s go get it.’ So we went out and got it and took her apart; I’m carrying the legs, she’s carrying the torso. And we were both half-loaded,” Sobbry says, laughing. “We carried that thing up there, and then we had to dress her, so we had to go back and get the clothes.”

Unfortunately, tragedy struck again shortly thereafter. Sobbry’s son Bill, who had struggled with illness for some time, died unexpectedly at age 39 only a few months after the bride was placed in the tower.

“I’ve had a lot of loss in my life,” she says.

Grace and solidarity

Bill’s death led her to place a large statue of a weeping angel in her front window, something that would likely be the home’s focal point if it wasn’t upstaged by a full-sized bride in a tower.

The two items together, honoring the father and the son, create an aura to the house that has resonated with many people over the years, Sobbry says, particularly people who have dealt with loss themselves.

“People say there’s a certain grace to my house. They feel solidarity with it,” she says. “I'm so lucky because this house has meant so much to so many people.”

But the bride in particular is not something to be overly solemn about, Sobbry says, especially since it’s been the source of plenty of laughs over the years. Take, for instance, the curious minds – especially children – who want to know a little more about what’s going on up in that tower.

“During Halloween is probably when I get the most questions. Why is she up there? Is she real? Is she stuffed?” Sobbry says. “They must have watched Psycho or some other scary movies or something.”

Then there’s the woman who loaned Sobbry her eye-catching dress under the condition that Sobbry put it on the bride during the holiday season.

“It was a red velvet wedding dress with the white fur cuff and the hat,” she says. “So I did that for a few years. Everybody expected it.”

Sobbry used to do a lot of customizations of that nature up in the tower, but those days are long gone.

“I can't climb the ladder. I mean, I could, but I don't take any chances anymore,” she says. “I can get people to do things for me, but I think I’m outliving a lot of my friends…For now I just find somebody who's small and agile that can get up there.”

Sobbry has left her mark on Traverse City in countless ways. She ran a daycare, worked to assist families at a funeral home, was a part owner of Interlochen’s golf club, handled local booking for a travel agency and has been on the board of Brickways, Addiction Treatment Services and more. She was also involved with the National Cherry Festival for many years.

In addtion to organizational and business service, she's rented the upstairs of her home for decades, often to people with no place else to go, something that makes her proud.

But while her contributions amount to much more than putting mannequin in a tower, you’ll be hard pressed to find an action of hers that has impacted more people over the years – even if just by getting their imagination going – than placing the famous bride in her perch.

“She's legend now,” Sobbry says. “No matter where I go, (everybody knows her).”