Memoirs of Cliff Roberts
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INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION
This is a bit of auto-biography, genealogy and history mixed by a bit of satire, sadism, even bigotry written from the desk of a Dirty Old Man, Harvey Wallbanger. A few of the parties mentioned could sue me for slander if they were living, yet I believe their offspring will smile with me as I write about the ideosyncracies of those who begat and begat before me.
Why should a solid senior citizen be called Harvey Wallbanger? My friends, daughters, business people and the children of this quaint Central Texas town call me "Harv". I hope it is because they hold me in high esteem.
A few days ago while on my morning walk (doctors orders) I was teasing a couple of neighbor boys about their girl friends. After I got well past them I overheard Richard say to his friend, "He's flaky". "Yeah", was the answer in agreement.
Flaky? I take it that flaky means "kookie", "odd ball", or perhaps "half baked", so I looked it up in the big Merriam Webster dictionary and found that neither flaky or kook had reference to an oddball. The closest definition was to "kookie".
"Kook'a-burra - Laughing Jack Ass (Australia)".
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Neither boy spoke of me as a kook, so naturally he meant "flaky" - definition - "pure, fresh driven snow". Therefore he must have intended it as an expression of love.
There is nothing one can do to improve himself in so much as writing his memoirs. Certainly I would not willingly trust another to write mine. Yet I am leaving my skeleton closet door a bit ajar for just a peek into my livid past praying that those offended will forgive me.
Like everyone else my life has seen its sorrows as well as happiness. Happiness is best remembered, yet after enough time has passed, all memories are beautiful.
Now all is peace and quiet. Those two or three who purport to be my enemies cannot hurt or even concern me. I am truly blessed.
In retrospect, looking throughout the mist of years, I was the focus (really not a four letter word) of atten- tion in the summer of 1895 when all Hell broke loose. Just like Pearl Harbor.
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It was the year of the small towns with nearby swimming holes. It was the year of the small farms as yet not completely cleared for cultivation. It seems that every farm has at least a small woodland to clear and that clearing brought "cussin", backache and at least a new ground potato patch. It was the winter that McKinley and Bryan were candidates for president and with most everyone around Blooming Grove being Republicans, naturally McKinley was elected. It was thirty years since the Civil War had ceased.
The Waggoner farm near Blooming Grove was always a scene of active farm operations. Abe Waggoner had many tools and had one of the first steam threshing machines of the day. He was the propagator of the "Waggoner" Apples that proved very popular. Manual labor was the name of the farming game in those days and he had many "hands". He had clearing to do which provided much wood for the large house and summer kitchen with its huge fireplace. It is said that during the busy season he butchered a lamb every day to feed the help.
Abe Waggoner came from solid German and Quaker stock; in fact, his grandfather Tom Green was a brother to General Nathaniel Green, Washingtons favorite general. Both Tom and Nathaniel Green were ousted from the Quaker church because of their war activities during the Revolution, Tom being on the Generals staff.
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Abe's wife (Emily Miller) had died three years previously. They had four sons: John, 1855; Wm. D., 1858; Lot M, 1862; Simeon,1869, and one daughter Mary Elizabeth, 1866. The sons were all married and moved away except John the eldest lived on his farm nearby. At this time Mary Lizzie was twenty nine and did all the cooking for the hands, except in busiest season.
Note that these children except Simeon all were born during the Civil War period. Abe had been drafted but paid a bounty of $300 for a substitute. Substitutes were not hard to find as many men who missed the draft lottery advertised their services for this sum.
It is said several "would be" substitutes made a business of selling their services, then desert, move to another location and advertise under an alias for another $300. Carl Sandborn, in his Life of Lincoln told of one man who did this trick 30 times before they caught and hung him.
Emily Waggoner (Abe's wife) was a domineering and hateful person, according to Libby Waggoner Johns wife. She kept her only daughter, Mary Lizzie, at home allowing very few friends, and as a result Mary Lizzie grew into an "Old Maid". Emily had one son, Simeon, who was just like her, overbearing and insolvent but the other three sons were like their father Abe Waggoner, slow, easy going, but industrious.
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When Emily died in 1893, Mary Lizzie was 26 years of age. She died of dropsy and had to sit upright at all times in her chair, but made a "deathbed" warning, "Don't let Mary Lizzie marry Benny Roberts".
Abe thought she was delerious as it was preposterous that she should marry this little 12 year old red head kid out of the Childrens Home who stayed with some neighbors and went to school part time.
In July 1895 Mary Lizzie reluctantly told her father of her pregnancy and really shook him up when she told him who the "varmint" was. Lib Waggoner told me the story after Mary Lizzie's (my mother) death. Abe (my grandfather) begged her not to marry this 15 year old "snot nosed" kid, promising to take care of me as a a son. This she refused. They had a family census of the brothers and wives and that is when the shit hit the fan - Pearl Harbor fashion. But Mary Elizabeth, bless her heart, prevailed and on July 23, 1895, she and Benny Roberts were married. I thus incurred the wrath of Emily Waggoner although she had been dead nearly three years.
How she hated me! How do I know? I never did know
until 40 years later: Spooky,eh?
Well, folks, forty years later in the sequence of
my story I will tell you all about it. Just hold on to
your seats!
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But to continue my story, 5 1/2 months after the marriage I was born. I do not remember the incident not being like Jimmy Carter who was born twice but damned if he could remember the first time.
Quite a stir around the country side-tongues wagged- sly whispers and shaking of heads. Old biddies started counting backwards from January 10, 1896 on their fingers and then nodded " I told you so".
My father, George Bennet but called "Benny", proved to be a wonderful father in spite of the fact that he and my mother had to brave the contempt of her family. This contempt grew with the birth of each child after me. He had gone to school long enough to read well and "figure". I never thought of him as being deficient in education as he was sharper in arithmetic than my mother. He was no doubt very immature but I never remember him as being younger than my mother even in the later years.
George B., as he was known all through his later years, as I have told you was an orphan. He spent his childhood either at the "Childrens Home" or with some farmer for "board and keep" with a little schooling during the severe winter season.
Before I ever went to school I remember being told of how his alcoholic father had brought his small growing children up from New Orleans where they were all born,
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to Blooming Grove where his mother, Lucinda Roberts lived. There, for a very short time he worked at his black- smithing.
He was not there long when he took off for parts unknown and never did return. He died in 1912 at San Diego, California. His only brother, Keeley was notified but he did not tell my father until much later.
Lisa, the mother (my grandmother) unused to work of any kind, let alone taking care of the brood, made her plans to return to the south from whence she came. She placed five of the oldest children in the Franklin County Childrens Home and departed with the baby, Bert in 1885.
My father was six years old and no one again heard from her until 1903.
Now Gertrude, the eldest was soon taken from the home by the grandmother where she suddenly sickened and died at 11 years.
Ed, the next child, born 1877, really had it tough, knowing nothing but hard work, never married, totally lost his eyesight, died about 1937 (about 50 years).
Next, Dad, George B., born 1879; died 1953 at 74 years.
Roy E., born 1882, never married, killed in action in France, World War I - 1918, age 36.
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Iva, born 1884 (often married) died in California, 1935. Bert, the baby, born 1885, died in 1935 (50 years). These children, all born in the south, baptized in the Catholic Church, at the time of desertion were aged as follows - Gertrude 10, Ed 9, George B. 6, Roy E. 4, and Iva 2.
Many stories came from them, describing their plight. All except Roy were apparently mistreated. Roy was fortunate to get a good home in a German family by the name of Whitcamper. He was loved as a son and received a good education. I remember him as well read and quite a philosopher and idealist. Before my school days, I remember his visits and close association with my father. He spoke German fluently. All the deserted children because of their associations were reared as Protestants.
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Grandfather Waggoner bought a small farm for mother and dad on Duck Creek near Metamora which was about ten miles from his place. I have a thousand memories of this small farm even though we moved from there when I was under three.
There, my brother Milford was born 1 year 8 months younger than I. The creek fronted the log house with a bridge that led onto the road passing by.
I remember all the neighbors, especially the older Greene girls; Lola, Cora, Emma and Mable who was near my age. There were also three boys Harry, Johnnie (killed in WW I) and Charlie. Lola and Cora sort of took turns taking care of Milford and me.
About five years ago (1969) I heard that Cora was still living and made it a point to look her up on one of my return trips from California. Answering the door, a feeble, sickly old lady appeared.
"Howdy, ma'am, do you happen to be Cora Greene?", I inquired with the gallantry for which I am noted.
She said,"Yes, this used to be Cora Greene."
"Do you remember Cliff Roberts"? I asked. "Laud sakes, yes. Do you mean to say you are Clifford?" She put her arms around me and exclaimed through the tears, "Clifford, I've wiped your ass many, many times!"
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I do not remember that intimate relationship in detail but I do recall the girls being at our house much of the time. I remember their mother. (She had a large goiter which scared me.) Their father was a jovial type and the children all inherited that trait.
There was the big McCurdy family, poor as church mice and the Vern Hills. There was ole Lige (Elijah) Montgomery with his corn cob pipe and stinking home grown tobacco. I had heard the neighbors talk about him as being a chicken thief and no good in particular. In later years, in remembering him, I learned he was doing time for thievery and arson. I knew him later as a "honey dipper" (one who cleans out privies).
My Dad painted the tin roof on the barn with Venetian red and linseed oil. A young calf drank from a bucket of this mixture and "kicked the bucket."
I remember the "smell" of the creek especially when the rich bottom land brought forth its large growth of vegetation in the hot summer months. And in winter this "smell" changed to burned firewood from the fireplace. No such thing as gas or coal but good old hickory firewood smoke - unforgettable.
Today, when it is fashionable to supplement gas here with a little fire in a modern fireplace I get a whiff of the soothing odor that never fails to take me back to those days that memory keeps me company.
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An' wash the cups & saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An"shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board an' keep; An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about'
An' the Gobble-uns 'at get you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
In those days the Orphan Annies and the Roberts' "childern" such as my Dad and his siblings were "farmed out". We had an "Orphan Annie" who came to our house to stay. Her name was Mamie Patterson and she came from the Childerns Home. She would drive the horse "Old Maje" and buggy to the store in Metamora for supplies and I sometimes went with her. The creek ran all the way to the town and once she spied a large soft shell turtle. She caught it and laboriously got it in the rear of the buggy. I remember her showing it off to the town's people and how scared I was of it. Dad butchered it.
We had a good parlor organ with the stool with the fringe. Also we had a large walnut framed mirror which I think my mother got from her Aunt Mary (Miller). The organ, I think, was given her when a child in the hopes that she would develop into a "concert organist" but she never knew a note as I remember her. Mamie would hold me up to the mirror and tell me that
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some day we would go into that mirror - Weird. She told me a lot of yarns - of how poison was tin foil, then put it to her mouth as if to swallow it, just to hear me squall.
Mamie must have been unhappy, because one night she disappeared. My parents were quite upset but finally concluded that she must have "run off". I recall that my piggy bank with all my pennies went with her.
About 1950, Dad learning of her whereabouts in California went to Long Beach to see her and they had a nice visit. I forgot to ask him if she gave him my piggy bank, it being only 52 years since her leaving.
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In 1899, when I was nearly three years old, we moved to Connersville, Indiana, and I never knew why. We lived on tenth street and the small cottage looks just the same today.
On the corner lived Mr. Watson, an old man who every Sunday morning threw the funnies section of the paper in our yard. I can see those funnies as if it were only yesterday _ The Katzenjammer Kids, named Hans and Fritz, - Happy Hooligan and his brother Gloomy Gus, Buster Brown and his dog Toge, - Si Slocum and his mule, Maud, - Ah Sid, the Chinese Kid, - and Laughing Sam. I am sure that Dad enjoyed them as much or more than I, as he read and explained them to me.
Mr. Watson's house today is just the same with the exeption of two iron life-sized water spaniels that laid on the front porch as if on guard. Often I think of how valuable those antiques would be today.
Across the street from our house was the railroad and a red building used as a poultry house which was a busy place at Thanksgiving time. Dad worked there dressing turkeys during the holidays.
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All this was during the election year of McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt against Wm. Jennings Bryan and ( I think) Parker. Political pictures were posted or hung from most front windows. My folks were rabid Republicans and they gave me a small flag and told me to go out in the front yard and yell "Hurrah for McKinley".
A memory - Granddad Waggoner bringing several crates of chickens to the poultry house and leaving one coop of roosters with us to eat.
Of course our toilet was an outside privy with holes too large for my little butt. Dad planted upright a clay sewer pipe in the corner of the back yard for me to use as a toilet. It was much too tall for me to climb and I had to have assistance each time both for ascent and descent. At the cry of " I wanna stank" one would come running and sit me on the top. It seems in my memory that their return for me was always delayed for long periods of time. I suppose to be sure it worked. I do not recollect Milford using the pipe, he could have been too small. It was thus my individual throne.
Upon one of Uncle Roy's visits to our house he had started selling house to house pictures framed for the parlor. It was quite a fad at the time. From the prospective customer he would take an original photo, remove the cardboard back then glue it on the back of a 10 x 12 glass, paint the remaining open space of the glass, and insert it in a beautiful gilded frame. It was really sharp, - rather gaudy but pretty in its day and age of the parlor.
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He induced Dad to join him. They had to buy frames, glass tools (rollers etc.) in volume in order to get the sales rights for allotted territories. They called on every house in Connersville, canvassing all day and then at night processing the photographs and framing at night.
They did quite well and decided to move to a larger place and acquired a section of Indianapolis. In 1901 we moved to Indianapolis.
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I don't know why we moved so often in Indianapolis but suspect that it was better than paying rent. At least we were blessed with pullchain inside toilets from then on even though not all were private.
Dad's sister and her husband Dave Morrison here joined Dad and Roy in the picture business. The territory finally was saturated and they moved their operation to Kansas City leaving us in Indianapolis where my brother Roy M., later nicknamed Abe was born.
When Dad was away working in Kansas City we lived on the second floor of a tenement building. It was a large three or four story building with long winding stairs in the center surrounded by apartments on each floor. There were a lot of noisy kids that worried the caretaker, Mrs. Washstadt, to distraction.
When Dad returned from Kansas City, he gave up the picture business and got employment in a carriage factory. He had to buy his own hand tools and for years later I had fun with them, especially the bolt clippers.
At five I went to kindergarten and enjoyed it as I liked to use my hands. Clay stamping and modeling interested me. When I became six I started to school. I remember being vaccinated for small pox at school.
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One morning the teacher called me to her desk and asked if I was sick. I tried to assure her that I felt all right. She said "Why child you are as yellow as a Pumpkin".
"My Mom says I've got "yaller janders", I said. She laughed loud and long and told me to go home and come back when I didn't have "yaller janders". I went home and don't think I had a doctor but it cleared up in a couple of days.
After a few days at school I figured I liked kindergarten better because I didn't have to remember numbers and letters there. So instead of school one morning I went to kindergarten that was near by but it seems that I was an unwelcome guest for they waltzed me right back to school.
We learned to read by phonetics - each letter it's characteristic sound. So after intensive drilling of the sounds of the alphabet I could sound the words whether I knew what they meant or not.
I have often been thankful for having been taught to read in this manner. I later went to several different schools where the teacher did not know of this method. One such teacher got a kick out of selecting hard words for me to pronounce or read just to hear me sound each letter separately. She once picked up a large geography on her desk and asked me to tell her the name on it. I remembered that my father always signed his name Geo., so I figured the first three letters spelled "George",
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then g-r-a-p-h-y? = George rappy. She still could not understand my method.
My father had a bicycle and he liked to ride me on the handle bars. That crossbar was hard on my tender rump, so he fixed a board with a cushion that worked fine. I remember a woman telling him that it was sweet to see a boy riding his little brother on his bicycle. He took me everyplace. When we walked along the street I always held on to his index finger.
He bought all my mother's yardage to make clothes and I was always with him. A sales girl kidded him about his little brother, thinking that he was single. I remember her surprise and her telling him that she didn't believe him. We always had a sewing machine as long as I can remember. Dad was a much better "seamstress" than mother and made most of her dresses. Another thing that surprised the salesgirl was that a dress took ten yards as my mother was overweight. ( and most likely pregnant!)
Just before I started to school while walking with my Dad in front of a large school, they were having a singing period. They were singing "Good-bye My Dolly I Must Leave You", a Spanish-American war song. Much like later singing Tipperary in WWI.
We once lived in a double house where on the other side lived an "onery" kid named Raymond Stetzel. When we were both too young to go to school he taught me a few tricks. He showed me how to tie a string around my little penis, explaining that it would "feel good".
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It did.
When my mother saw it while giving me a bath she was horrified as it was turning blue!
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"Don't you ever - ever do that again or it will fall off", she admonished.
We had just moved to a small house, the one with electricity, in November 1902, when I was awakened at two o'clock in the morning and my mother was crying. They told me that Grandfather Waggoner was seriously ill and that we must go at once. I was so sleepy I could hardly comprehend. We were to take a train at 3 AM and had to hurry. They were hurriedly dressing themselves and us kids. I remember when they were dressing me I was so sleepy. Dad was buttoning my coat when I went to sleep standing up and fell over. I have forgotten all the small details about the train ride, the meeting of us with a carriage in Connersville and our trip to the farm. But I will never forget my grandfather in the large bedroom - one side completely paralyzed and unable to speak. He held out his hand to me and made a grunt then squeezed my hand and looked kindly at me. As I remember he lasted only a few days.
He had gone to the barn to feed the stock where he was seized with a stroke in a horse stall. He laid there for three days when a neighbor came to investigate since he had not seen nor heard from him. Living alone, no one was there to help him and when found was still living but paralyzed and could not speak.
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His oldest son John, who lived about two miles away was notified and he in turn notified our mother, the other brothers Wm. Dora and Simeon in Terre Haute, Indiana. Lot was in California, just having returned from the Klondike gold fields. All arrived there but Lot before he died. He was buried in Fairfield cemetery beside Emily. A brown marble monument was soon erected.
Milford and I stayed with Uncle John and Aunt Lib at their place while Dad, mother and baby (Roy) went back to Indianapolis to move what furniture we had. I am not so sure, but I think we all stayed on Grandad's place until the estate was settled.
The three brothers made all the decisions as to the disposal of the farm and equipment. My mother breaking in on one of their sessions asked for only one thing: "May I please have Pap's watch to remember him by?"
"What do you need with his watch? Hell no!", answered Uncle Simeon. Her heart was broken and they divided such small things between themselves as I remember hearing about it.
Uncle John was to get the home place which was fair, as he was the only farmer.
Then came the big farm equipment auction sale. He had enough tools for several farms as he seemed to have had an addiction for farm machinery. He had operated one of the first thrashing machines in the country and was
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known for his penchant to buy tools when they went cheaply at all farm auctions. With tools, livestock, and household goods it was a large sale and drew an enormous crowd. It was a terribly cold day and I felt sorry for the auctioneer who had to keep barking while the buyers would sneak into the big summer kitchen and stand in front of the large fireplace to thaw.
That is where I stayed to listen to the gossip and laughter of the farmers. They were kidding Tom Ellis, a young fellow about his wife having a baby, their first born, the night before. They had named him Clifford Peter Ellis and I made the remark that the name was like mine only my name did not have the "Peter". That brought a laugh over the whole room. Then they would ask me to repeat my remark so they could laugh again. Several times during the day I accomodated them but I could see nothing funny about it at that time. I was going through the age when everything I said was cute and not back-talk.
After every asset was cleared out, Uncle John, with Aunt Lib and two daughters Ella and Mayme moved to the old home place. Bertha, the eldest daughter was working as a domestic in Crawfordsville, Indiana.
During our stay on the farm at this time I remember the neighbors Alva and Ora Chambers taught me to count to one hundred.
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Bently, about a mile and a half northeast of the home place was a sparse community consisting of school house, church and the homes of the Roses, Bennings, Grists, Blackburn, Mable, Jerman, Trustlers and Currys. Dad took a farm job from Tom Curry who was a thrifty Irishman.
I think we were there a full year as Milford and I went a full term to the Bently school which was about a quarter of a mile from the house furnished to us. We got a hog to butcher and a cow furnished for the milk. I well remember this cows calf that got too close to the bee-hive. I can see it now, a picture of that calf running back and forth with his tail straight up in the air which I thought was real, real funny.
I was in the second grade and Milford was in the first. The huckster, Harry Perdon from Blooming Grove with his covered wagon drawn by a team of horses made weekly calls. We traded our extra butter and eggs for sugar, coffee (Arbuckles), soap, beans, etc.
Rural mail delivery was just starting and homemade wooden mail boxes were available.
Mother made the first butter, beating the sour milk in a stone jar which was an endless job. It was then we decided to buy a churn.
Riding down the dusty road in a buggy drawn by Tom, we went to Everton, about three miles, to buy a churn. Old Tom sometimes took a notion to balk and all the coaxing and whipping in the world would not change his mind until he thought it over
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(it could be an hour) and then decided to proceed. I asked Dad how he could tell that Tom was a boy horse. "Whoah!" He commanded Tom who stopped and stood still while Dad climbed over the dashboard onto the shafts and lifted up his tail.
"Now, see that round hole directly under his tail?" I was embarrassed but I agreed that I did.
"Now, when you see a horse with only a round hole under the tail - that means he is a boy. Now when you see directly under the hole a slit," he said, making a perpendicular motion with the side of his hand, "Then it is a girl. Now, do you think you can tell the difference?"
I nodded an embarrassed "yes".
To this day, at least 75 years later, I have not the least idea of what he was talking about. Ah, the unsolved mysteries of life!
But enough about old Tom - We needed a churn. That little general store in Everton I thought the most fascinating place as they had everything including candy. Dad paid three dollars for the churn. That represecnted two or three days work as the prevailing wage of a farm hand was $10-12 per month. That churn was a luxury as we had been churning in this large crock with a stirring ladle. It was a luxury until they put me to work churning as it was so tiresome to one so small. It seemed the butter would never come and I would poop out but my mother would finish it and it seemed she did it so easily.
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Time is what allows us to remember the rich goodness of county butter without recalling all the churning.
Mr. Curry was noted for his thrift but he and Dad got along fine. His son, Claire, about 5 years older than I was at our house much of the time . This was in 1903, I was seven, Dad 23. All the boys of the neighborhood made our house their headquarters on Sunday as Dad was really one of them. I remember Easter Sunday and the boys had planned a chicken friz with a lot of eggs but a big rain came and we tooks refuge in a big stack of fence rails piled so that they formed sort of a roof. But as a roof, it proved a sieve and we all got soaking wet, returning to our house like drowned rats.
I remember that sometimes my brother became a bit irked at the boys but that didn't seem to stop the fun.
At the end of the lane running from our house across the road the big boys played baseball. It seems like they were all adults and as I look back, it seems like they played as well as some professionals today. Chuck Masters the pitcher, was a high school teacher. Boxer Meyers was a big farmer as was Frank Banning, catcher. They drew large crowds every Sunday.
When we first moved on the farm that spring it seemed that it had been so long since seeing Uncle Roy when he came one Sunday just before dinner time at noon. As we sat down at dinner Dad playfully put a spot of butter on Uncle Roys suspenders and got up and ran. Uncle Roy jumped up and after
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him. Well, don't you know they chased each other all after- noon until it was time for him to leave. They hadn't eaten or visited - just played, so you can see my Dad hadn't grown up yet. Uncle Roy at that time was operator of the Union News Stand in the Pennsylvania Depot in Richmond, Indiana. He came back down on vacation during the following summer and did a lot of squirre hunting.
A cousin of our mother, Mrs. Levi Masters, died. She was a sister of Noah and Lot (Doc) Waggoner. Only Dad and I went to the funeral. In the procession to the graveyard in Fairfield, our horse, Old Tom, balked and held up the traffic that finally drove around us. I do not remember when Tom decided to move but I am sure He surely did because I saw her grave and marker 5O years later as I was looking over the old cemetary before it was moved to higher ground to make room for the Brookville Lake which now is finished. Neither rain nor balky horses keep one from taking that last ride.
One day Dad came back from the open end mailbox with a letter and he was crying. He told Mom it was from his own mother, that she had somehow located him. Her name was now Hamilton and she was living in Helena, Arkansas. She now had two children; Joe, my age, and Theresa, a couple of years older. She and the children were devout Catholics. Bert, the baby she had taken south with her was apprenticed to a sign painter in Memphis, 40 miles up the Mississippi River from their home.
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I remember her and the two children visiting us on the farm. Milford and I played with Joe and Theresa. I forget how long they stayed, but not long. It made my father very happy. I recall that Iva, Roy and Ed came to visit at that time and they had a touching reunion.
In 1903 it was cold bitter weather when we moved from the Bently neighborhood to Blooming Grove. Mother and Dad had bought a cottage in town for $300 with a small rental on the same lot. The school, across the gravel street in a two room building housed 5 grades in the one side and 6-10 in the other. It had a coal burning furnace for both rooms that had a hard time keeping the kids warm.
From here memories crowd memories! Here in Blooming Grove our growing family lived until 1914. Dad started out that 1903 winter cutting firewood for $1 per cord. The following summer he bought a god damned merry-go-round, yes that's right, a used merry-go-round. It seems that he had talked my mother into using about $500 of the farm inheritance insisting that he could make a lot of money playing the county fairs. I think he made 3 or 4 stands and when business was so bad he had to hock the outfit to continue, he soon lost the whole thing. Mother cried.
Blooming Grove boasted of a saw mill, a blacksmith shop where all the news was discussed, diagnosed, and disseminated. I overheard a couple of neighbor women at the store talking.
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"I feel sorry for Lizzie".
"So do I. He'll run thru all she's got."
"She'll just have to clamp down on him".
"I feel sorry for Lizzie too".
I overheard remarks from the men that "Benny" hadn't
grown up, that we would soon lose our home and that she had
better put thumbs down. This talk made me feel bad. Then
too, I had visioned a happy life just riding on a merry-go
round!
About this time occured the big hold-up. John Kennedy one of the two store keepers was aroused from his sleep about two in the morning by a loud knock at his bedroom door which faced the street. Upon opening the door he was faced by a dark lantern (much like our flashlite today) and a man who demanded his money. Kennedy was a strapping athletic brave young man. He tore into the intruder and knocked him down but the fellow shot him in the face. The bullet lodged in the cheek but did not keep him from calling for help as loud as possible. The robber fled. Only one person heard his call for help and he lived two blocks away.
Now there were only two telephones in town, one in each store, but there were several farm phones on party lines and the news spread like wildfire.
What an exciting time for us kids! Early that morning people gathered into town from far and near. The small town was crowded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (29) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sheriff and his deputies arrived early and put in phone call to Knightstown for a pair of bloodhounds. About a block away the robbers had dropped their dark lantern while climbing a large gate entering the sawmill yard. When the long eared bloodhounds finally got there they were taken to the dark lantern that had been left untouched. They sniffed, they bellowed, and they picked up the scent and started baying in anticipation. They were so anxious they were hard to restrain. Everybody was watching the show as it was unfolding before our very eyes. Who wanted TV thrillers in those days?
Manuel Kennedy, John's brother, in meantime proceeded to get drunk and started shouting orders to the crowd. Everyone was attracted by his leadership as he led his battalian like a general following the bloodhounds. First the hounds made a circle around the sawmill lot to a house across the street from the Kennedy store but they were pulled back and again led down to the gate to get another whiff of the lantern. Manuel's posse, perhaps 25 - 30 men made the trip under his orders, "This way, men". To us kids, this was a bully show. With a fresh scent the hounds were off again around the lot to the road that leads to Brookville. Here it was deduced that the gunman had gotten into a buggy and gone to the county seat. Seven miles the dogs bayed and bellowed on the way to Brookville where they ended up at the depot. That was the end of the futile efforts of the blood- hounds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (30) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The people lingered around all day. New people arrived as others left, leaving the town a beehive of conjecture and anticipation. Some nodded knowingly about the man who lived across the street. In the meantime John Kennedy was up and around, his head wrapped in sheeting like a mummy. He would not allow the doctor to remove the bullet which had lodged near the back of his neck.
Years later, I learned that the bullet had worked down his back just under the skin. He never had it removed nor did they ever catch the gunman.
At John Kennedy's store, we kids spent our pennies for stick candy. Mothers bought calico for dresses, kerosene for lamps, overshoes for school kids. Farmers bought terbacker, horse collars and "steeples". It was a typical General Store.
With it was the huckster wagon that plied the country side once every day in the week. Saturday was a big day at the store but most of the business was transacted on the huckster route where many customers seldom "got to town". We kids made it our business to be at the store when the "drummers" came from the city to show their merchandise to John. Some had one line such as shoes, others had a whole shithouse full of goodies such as toys, hardware, post cards and jewelry.
Also came the salesman (or "drummer") who drummed up trade from the wholesale grocery house in Cincinnati. He always had samples of a good line of colored cookies, pickles,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (31) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
saurkraut and salted white fish in drums or barrels, good smelling coffee (never ground) and other interesting items from the outside world.
Here I had first contact with cereals other than rolled oats (Quaker). First was Elijah's Manna corn flakes in a pretty box. Then came Egg-O-See, much the same and finally Kelloggs corn flakes. Elijsh's Manna and Egg-O-See suffered an early demise but Kelloggs really put it over by intensive advertising. Our school was given a framed picture of a pretty girl hugging a green stalk of standing corn entitled "Kelloggs - Sweethesrt of the Corn". Postum, the substitute for coffee had just arrived and they came out with Post Toasties. Shredded wheat came out soon after Grape-Nuts, also. There has been a variety of competitive cereals since but these above mentioned have held their own for the last 70 years.
I found a box of Grape-Nuts that the storekeeper had discarded because they did not sell. He had acquired them as a sample and considered them a newfangled concoction, which they were indeed. I never tasted anything better so ate the whole contents. Overheard the clerk tell someone that they were very, very wormy. As tasty as they were, this scavenger remembers them with fond relish. Today, when eating Grape-Nuts, a picture appears of my first crunchy thrill.
Did you ever notice how people seem to get nostalgic about a lot of things they were not so crazy about the first time around?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (32) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Applegate,Duane 184,185
Ardery,Albert 126
Ardery,Anna May 122,126
Ardery,Ruby 126
Armstrong,Dr. 103,104
Armstrong,Florence 103,104
Arnold,Alice(Peg) 188-196
Arnold,Buck 192-196
Arnold,Rolland 191
Arnold,Ruth 194-196
Aulbach,Loretta 87
Banning 23,25
Bently IN 23
Berg,Adam 49
Berg,Charlie 49
Black,Rev. 126
Blackburn 23
Blackburn,Clay 176
Boblander 105
Bohlander,"Boots" 168
Boomershine,Floyd 153
Bossert,Abe 108
Bourne,Lou 118
Bradt,W.D. 160
Brock,Henry 139
Brock,Oscar 139
Broerman,Leo 167,168
Brookville Lake 26
Brown,Homer 118,141
Brunswick Hotel 104
Burch,Lily 131,143
Burkhart 103
Butler,Charlie 113
Butts,Richard 180
Camp,Van 159
Cedar Grove,IN 154
Cedar Grove,IN 95
Chambers,Alva 22
Chambers,Loren 33
Chambers,Ora 22,33,36,60
Charni,Dean 95
Chownings,Jack 61
Cincinnati,OH 42,44
Clark,"Bunk" 132
Clark,Ernest 91
Clark,Nettie 66
Colebank,"Suss" 132
Columbus,OH 194
Connersville,IN 13,63,76
Cooksey,Henry 113
Cooksey,Wes 126
Copes,Ray 61,64
Cornelius,Aaron 168
Cornelius,Valley 63,118
Corydon,IN 49
Cowing,Louise 88
Crabtree,Selma 174
Crawfordsville IN 21
Curry,Claire 25
Curry,Tom 23,25
Dare,Bud 132
Darnell,Doug 173
Darnell,King 173
Dawson,Harry 150
Dawson,Jennings 154
Dawson,Tony 151
Dayton,OH 183
Dearborn Co.IN 44
Dickson,Howard 110,111,123
Dorrel,Bob 154
Dorrel,Bub 111
Dorrel,Edna 111,190
Dubois 120
Dubois,Donald 123
Duck Creek 9,49,88,170
Dudley,Joe 105,107
Duell,Leo 137
Egypt 141
Ellis,Clifford Peter 22
Ellis,Dessie 61
Ellis,Tom 22
Elwood,IN 126
English,Glenn 110,122
Evans,Lura 42
Everton,IN 23,24
Fairfield Cemetery 21,26
Ferris,Frank 32,50,54,55
Ferris,Katie 55
Fishback,Oakley 54
Flagstaff,AZ 142
Foster,Gum 132
Franklin Co. Childrens Home 7,11
Friese 105
Gas City,IA 100
Geiling,Hazel 52
Geise 105
Gesell,Henry 133,141,142
Gilbert,Russell 111
Gillam,Rev. 150,151
Glaser,Dr. 143
Glaub,Joe 50
Golden,Bill 123-125,190
Golden,Cozy 124
Golden,Edna 124
Golden,George 124
Goodwin 103
Green,Nathaniel 3
Green,Tom 3
Greene,Charles 9
Greene,Cora 9
Greene,Harry 9
Greene,John 9
Greene,Lola 9
Greene,Mabel 9
Grimes Street 191
Grist 23
Gulley,Ralph 166,187
Haman 108,109
Haman,Leander 103
Haman,Loretta 87
Hamilton,"Willie" 38
Hamilton,Joe 26,27,38
Hamilton,Liza 26,37,38,39
Hamilton,OH 148
Hamilton,Theresa 26,27,38,85
Hanlon,Ethel 188
Hanna,Raymond 111,132
Hartman,Philip 99
Heasom,Harry 104
Helena,AR 26,37,39
Hetrick,Betsy 113,118-121
Hetrick,Edna 118
Hetrick,Eli 117
Hetrick,John 117
Hetrick,June 118
Hetrick,Laura 113,118-121
Hetrick,Nellie 110,111,118,126
Hetrick,Ralph 118
Hetrick,Sarah 113,118-121
Highlands,CA 90
Hill,Leo 118,119
Hill,Pauline 166
Hills,Vern 10
Himelick,Omer 127
Hitchcock 89,95,98
Horse Thief Detective Assn 159
Hubbard,M.P. 170
Huber,Harvey 139
Hunt,George 186
Hyde,Eli 146
Indianapolis,IN 15,16,21,76,77
Inland Mfg.Co. 186-189
Irgang 105
Irwin 64
Jenkins,Cobert 49,53
Jerman 23
Johns,Hazel 103
Johns,Helen 103
Jonas,Lena 95
Kane,Johnny 46,47
Kansas City,MO 16
Kennedy,Gertrude 57,62,70,75-76,81
Kennedy,Grace 61
Kennedy,Hazel 62,75,76
Kennedy,John 28-31
Kennedy,Manuel 29,60
Kidney,Bess 91
Kingery,Marie 52
Kingery,Moll 52
Kirschbaum,Joe 105
Klipple,Mae 37
Klopf 105
Klopf,Andy 108
Knightstown,IN 29
Krisher,George 154
Ku Klux Klan 154-164
Kuehn,George 111
Lacy,Alex 141
Lacy,Willard 91,98
Laurel,IN 155
Lee,Gail 185,196
Limsley,Fanny
Long Beach,CA 12
Lucas,Dr. 131
Ludlow,KY 48
Ludwig 185
Lula,MISS 37
Lyons,Brandy 141
Mable 23
Manning,Ruth 155
Masters,Chuck 25
Masters,Levi 26
McCarthy,Raymond 121
McCarthy,Tom 121
McCarty 63
McCarty,Virgil 175
McCauley 183-186
McCormack 48
McCurdy 10
McWhorter,Sam 56
Memphis,TN 26
Merril,Park 114
Metamora,IN 9,11
Metzgar,Sarah 111
Meyers,Billy 154
Meyers,Boxer 25
Meyers,Charlie(Mox) 138,148
Meyers,Omer 110,114,122,189
Miamisburg,OH 179-183
Midge 85
Milbourne,Reuben 93,110-115,126
Miles,Alpha 111
Miles,Esther 111,122
Miller,Creighton 155
Miller,Emily 4,21
Miller,George 155
Miller,Mary 11
Mode,Clara 32
Montgomery,Ann 175,176,183,194
Montgomery,Elijah 10
Morelock 105
Muncie College 37
Narcoosi,FL 109
Naylor,Carl 79
Naylor,Ella 79
Naylor,Howard 79
New Paris,OH 185,195,196
Noel,Orville 175
Nutty,Raymond B.S. 139,146,151,155,171,183
O'Hara,Edna 177
Oregon 84
Orville 85
Overholtzer,Madge 163
Parttems,Ezra 115
Patterson,Dr. 99
Patterson,Mamie 11
Perdon,Harry 23
Pippin Bakery 103
Pippin Building 103
Polhemus,Oscar 93
Powers,Charlie 75
Powers,Frank 32,41
Purina 167
Raabe,Charlie 148
Reeder 74-76
Richmond,IN 42,161,185
Riedman Bros. 131
Riefel,A.J. 91-96,99,100
Riker,Ruth 52
Riley,James Whitcomb 78
Ringo 80
Ritzi Grocery 82
Ritzi,Joe 90
Roberts,Allie 84
Roberts,Annabel 130,131,144,171,184
Roberts,Bert 7,26
Roberts,Clinton 84
Roberts,David 185
Roberts,Don 72
Roberts,Ed 7,8,27
Roberts,Ellen 143,171
Roberts,Eula 33,38,44,49,62,102,166,187-196
Roberts,Frank 84
Roberts,George B. 5-8
Roberts,Gertrude 7,8,65
Roberts,Harold(Deve) 39,43,44,62,66,102,113,137,138,166-175
Roberts,Iva 8,16,27
Roberts,Joan 185
Roberts,Keeley 7
Roberts,Kenneth 175
Roberts,Liza 7
Roberts,Lucinda 7
Roberts,Milford(Coats) 9,14,21,23,27,34,35,92,102,126,138,166
Roberts,Patricia 185
Roberts,Patricia Jean 175
Roberts,Peggy 185
Roberts,Roy E. 7,8,14,16,25-27,42,68,129,130,138
Roberts,Roy M.(Abe) 16,21,102,113,126,138,166
Rockefeller,IN 163
Rogers,Gene 177-183
Rose 23
Rosebud,TX 1
Rosenburger 103
Rusterholtz,Bill 87
Rusterholtz,Ed 87
Rusterholtz,Fritz 87
S.P.E.B.Q.S.A. 191
Salb 63,64
San Diego,CA 7
Schlechtweg 72
Schmidt,Henry 105
Schmidt,Roman 87
Schmidt,Theresa 87
Schobin,Marie 87
Schuck,Casper 105-107
Schumaker,Jenny 132,133
Schumaker,Tony 132
Seal,Lloyd 135,136
Seal,Reta 111,132
Shafer,Lyle 154
Sherwood,John 59
Shirk 83
Shirk,Ellen 103
Shortridge High School 77,81
Showalter 99
Shultze,"Dad" 157
Shulze Bakery 172
Siebert,Joe 154
Smiester,Billy 105
Smiester,Jake 108
Smith's Gas Station 103
Smith,Agnes 126
Smith,C.Ray 121,128,129,143,165
Smith,Ed 116-129,141,142,
Smith,Esther 110-116,122,128,143,168
Smith,Harry 111,122-133
Smith,Herbert(Kickero) 75,122,126,143,165
Smith,Martha 111,117
Smith,Nelson 117,120
Smith,Walter 123,142,143,165,168
Spenny,Murry 148,149
Stegner 44
Stenger,Art 154
Stenger,Vic 154
Stephenson,D.C. 161
Stetzel,Raymond 18
Stinger,Bob 148
Stinger,Leonard 148
Stock,Emma 87,90,91
Stoltz,Marie 52
Stoops 171
Swan,Susie 52
Swift,Bertha 52
Swift,Ethel 77
Swift,Grace 77
Swift,John Ash 36
Swift,John Tuck 58
Swift,Theodore 77
Swift,Wesley 32,48
Sylvester,Art 108,109
Tague,Cecil 158
Terre Haute,IN 21,69-71,76
Thornburg 77
Tyler,TX 53
Uhr 72
Updike,Ira 123
Updike,Ora 123,189
Updike,Royal 154-155
Updike,Squire 110,137,189-191
Usher,Charlie 137,147
Usher,Elmer 148
VanDevender 66
VanDyke,Roger 167
Vondersmith,Phil 177-179
Waggoner,Abram 3,20
Waggoner,Bertha 22
Waggoner,Ella 22,52,73
Waggoner,Eugene 69
Waggoner,John 4,21,67,73
Waggoner,Libby 4,5,21,52,69
Waggoner,Lot M.(Doc) 4,26,166,185
Waggoner,Mary Elizabeth 4,5,166
Waggoner,Mayme 22,73
Waggoner,Noah 26
Waggoner,Ralph 69,70
Waggoner,Simeon 4,21,68-73
Waggoner,William Dora 4,21,69
Waldron,IN 151
Wallace,Dr. 120
Wallbanger,Harvey 1
Ward,Dr. 129
Washstadt 16
Watson 13
Whitcamper 8
Whitcomb,IN 149
White,Alex 80
White,Emerson 79
White,Kate 80
White,Mel 80
White,Will 80
Whitman 33
Wiley High School 72
Wilson,Arline 52
Wilson,John 54
Wilson,Lucy 52
Winans,Ben 58
Wise,Alfred 100
Wissel,Andy 105
Wolf,Guy 155-157
Wright,Barley 104
Wright,Lois
Younts,Blanche 52
Younts,Will 102
