Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (1)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (1)

Description

Corresponds to unnumbered page 1 of Doors of Corridors of Memories


DOORS

to the

CORRIDORS

of

MEMORIES

by Jeannette Curren
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (2)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (2)

Description

Corresponds to the inside cover of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

illustration of Community Library Bookplate
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (3)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (3)

Description

Corresponds to the cover page of Doors of Corridors of Memories


DOORS

to the

CORRIDORS

of

MEMORIES

By Jeannette Curren

Community Library

2004
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (4)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (4)

Description

Corresponds to numbered page 1 of Doors of Corridors of Memories


THE DOORS TO CORRIDORS OF MEMORY


During the twenty- first year of the twentieth century on a very humid warm day -- the
twenty-third of August--in the quiet rural village of Galena, Ohio, Anna May Bohman Goff
gave birth to her seventh child-- and the second girl. Already there were five, healthy, active
boys who kept their father, Frank Sidel Goff, deeply involved in wage earning and fraternal
maneuvering. A beautiful six-year old girl, upon whom he doted, completed the family
grouping.

Two interesting sources are rumored to have been the basis for the name given the new
baby girl. Frank was enamored by a poem entitled "Jeannette and Jo" appearing in McGuffy
Reader, while Anna leaned toward the name of her mother's sisters--
Jeanette and Elnora. The parents agreed.

Because the McGuffey Readers from which Frank and Anna learned to read remain in
Jeannette's possession, the poem was found in the McGuffey Fourth Eclectic Reader,
copyright 1879. The poem was written by Mary Mapes Dodge. The last verse illustrates
the nature of the girls:

"And ye who fret, try like Jeannette,
To shun all weak complaining,
And not, like Jo, cry out too soon--
It always is a raining!"

Anna's Aunt Jeannette was married to a well-to-do man named Kirby. She played
the piano, as did Anna, so the two were quite compatible. Why Aunt
Lenora was favored is not known at the time of this writing.

Jeannette Elnora Goff, the agreed upon name, sounded just
fine.

While the name was just fine not every thing else in the
household was fine.Grandmother Bohman had come to help with
the running of the house, the preparation of meals, and other chores
of necessity. She believed busy hands kept children on the righteous
road. So it was that little Julia was placed on a stool in front of a
stack of dirty dishes. From that moment on, Julia claims her life of
work began and has never stopped. Whose fault? The new baby , of course!

Frank and Anna were forty-three and forty respectively. It was quite understandable
that Frank's parents were no longer living and Anna's parents were well into their sixties.

In the Frazesburg, Ohio, Cemetery a column-like stone marks the grave of Frank's
grandfather, Thomas Goff, who, it is said, came to America during the War of 1812 as a spy
for England. Shortly afterwards, he became sympathetic to the American cause and deserted
the English service. The English government confiscated his money and properties for a
period of ninety-nine years. Relatives have recently located the castle in Ludlow, Eng., but,
of course, there is no proof-of-the-pudding available now, to place a claim against the
English government. It makes an interesting tid-bit though!

James Thumwood Goff and Nancy Ellen Dunn Goff also rest in the Frazesburg
Cemetery--parents of Frank. It was told that Frank Sidel Goff was a seventh child but there
are no records to prove this--only six can be named and remembered.

photo of Great Aunt Jeannette Poole Kirby at right

photo of Great Aunt Lenora at left


-1-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (5)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (5)

Description

Corresponds to numbered page 2 of Doors to Corridors of Memories

They were: Anne , the oldest of the girls. Marietta and Ellen followed. Marietta was
always known as Aunt Ett. Ellen unfortunately died from acute appendicitis around the age
of twelve.

Aunt Anna married George Fisher and bore two sons: George Junior, and James. She
never treated my mother, Anna, with much grace; and, as a result , there was no love between
the two. Aunt Anna's own son, James, wrote of her jealousy of any other women with whom
George was even socially friendly.

Aunt Ett was wedded to Douglas McCann whose drinking caused much concern. They
had a daughter, Goldie.

Frank had two brothers, Lee and Thumwood. Lee was very outgoing and a lady's man.
He married Alma Chaney who had money of her own--and inherited more. Their son,
Thumwood, became an inventor for Westinghouse. He was also financially secure for life.

Uncle Thum worked for the railroads and provided a good living for Aunt Lizzie and
their three girls, Evelyn, Virginia and Elizabeth Ellen.

The latter two brothers lived in Trimway, Ohio--side by side. Many a Sunday was
spent at their home when Frank was financially able to buy a touring car. Anna prepared a
hamper of food for a picnic dinner either along the way or at the homes of the brothers.

Ann's relatives lived near-by in Dresden, Ohio. Her
father, Oscar Bohman, had migrated to the United States
from western Sweden around 1871. He did so to escape
induction into the Swedish navy or to escape becoming a
Lutheran minister--at least, this has always been rumored.
Instead of remaining in New York City or in the eastern
states as his brothers and sisters had done, he moved into the
Ohio area. He was involved with Kenyon College in some
capacity and established his home in Gambier, Ohio, in Knox
County. Because
Mt. Vernon was the
county seat business
took him there often.
There Emma Sophia
Poole attracted his
attention and soon,
they were married.
To this union were
born four children: namely, Anna May, Oscar W.,
Charles, and Dorothy.

Anna, being the oldest and a woman in those
days, soon was trained to be a "servant" to the family. It is true that she had some freedoms --her won pony, Topsy, and the privilege of twelve years of schooling. She was a quick-
thinker, agile, and capable. Religion and piano lessons had a formidable influence upon her.

Anna graduated valedictorian of her class in 1898 but that was the end of a promising
education. Although her father gained his citizenship to the United States, he retained the
European notion that women did not need a more formal education. Anna's hopes and
dreams of a musical career were dramatically crushed!


photo of Charles Leonard, Anna May, and Oscar Whitney Bohman at left

photo of Grandfather Oscar Ludwig, Grandmother Emma Sophia Poole at right


-2-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (6)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (6)

Description

Corresponds to numbered page 3 of Doors of Corridors of Memories

This was the time Aunt Jeanette invited Anna to Cleveland for an extended visit.
Jeannette understood Anna's disappointment and did everything she could to help her through
the crisis.

When Anna returned home she worked for her father in his restaurant. That is the way
she became interested in Frank.

Frank's father had died--rather unusually--when Frank was only fourteen. Because
the family fortune suddenly disappeared, Frank was forced to leave school, seek work, and
help his mother. He developed into a dashing young man with black, curly hair, good English
features and a nice personality. Women were attracted by him and to him.

At one time, it has been told, Frank came into the restaurant in an unusual mood and
gave Anna a ring. He asked her to keep it for him and when he wanted it again he would ask
her for it. Naturally, Anna was thrilled and placed much hope in possibly keeping it.
Heartbreak number two! He asked her for the ring and she never saw it again. Later,
however, he returned and their relationship became serious. They were quietly married on
September 9, 1903 in her parent's home.

Unbeknown to Anna was the fact her mother was pregnant. After a short time, her
mother asked her to buy a layette for the coming child. In her innocence and desire to please
her mother, Anna complied. Then, the scandalous rumors were heard. Anna was having a
baby months before she should! As it turned out her mother had a very difficult delivery and
was hospitalized in the nearest area hospital at the same time Anna was seen shopping,
attending church and other public gatherings. The new baby girl named Dorothy Ellen
Bohman arrived on December 31st, 1903.

Two years later, Anna was pregnant. Because fashions were the way they were at
the time, no one knew of the coming birth. Thus it was that Frank Arthur Goff entered the
world on June 5, 1905. It is said he was "born in a vail", a sac-like membrane. Apparently
Anna believed him to be "special" and special he remained to her for the remainder of her life.
The six other siblings were well aware of this relationship. They were Walter Bohman Goff
born June 11, 1907; Robert Harold, Born Sept. 4, 1910; Harry Eugene Born January 25, 1913;
Julia Anna born October 8, 1915; James Lee born February 20, 1917; and Jeannette Elnora
born August 23, 1921.


The Frank Sidel Goff Family

It was customary for people to have large families during the years before 1930.
Agriculture was a primary source of work and way of life then. Children died at birth or from
childhood diseases and accidents at at great rate; and poverty was prevalent.


pictured left to right are James , Robert, Arthur,
Harry, Walter, Juli, Jeannette, Anna, Arthur, Frank
The Goff Family, circa 1939


-3-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (7)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (7)

Description

Corresponds to unnumbered page 4 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Ancestors Of Jeannette Goff Curren

Common surnames in this genealogical tree include Gough, Goff, Thumwood, Mart and Stables .

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (8)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (8)

Description

Corresponds to unnumbered page of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Common surnames in this genealogical tree include Gough, Goff, Thumwood, Mart and Stables .
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (9)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (9)

Description

Corresponds to page 5 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


My family was fortunate. All of us were hail and hearty. My oldest brother, Rank
Arthur, was known as a "Katzenjammer Kid" when young and as "Ike." He was brilliant,
good-looking, macho type of a guy. He was the apple of his mother's eyes but a bane to his
father. He learned early in life how to get what he wanted. He used every angle that existed
and some he made up. No event was too great or too small for him to engage in. Ike was
the "life" of every party and was invited or "crashed" all of them.

Shortly after graduation from Galena High School in 1923, he and Aloma Everts
eloped. Then began a hectic life style. It is quite fuzzy in mind and I have no living
person to verify - but i spent a couple of days with Ike and Aloma at their apartment in
Worthington, Ohio.

I recall going home and running out to swing in the family tube tire swing before
greeting my my mother. She was miffed.

Later, there were times when Ike's antics made impressions on the family. Once he was
gored by an angry bull. His leg was badly ripped, and he needed a cane to support himself for
a long period of time. His marital relations were rocky. Once he ducked just in time to have
an iron skillet sail over his head. Another time he was so angry he ripped the generator out
of the car to keep everyone at home.

Yet, Ike had a winning personality and always had a job at which he succeeded. He
went through the whole bit of owning houses, selling them, owning a mobile home and travel
trailer, visiting his aunt in Florida for weeks on end.

The first marriage dissolved after a child was born to his girlfriend, Norma Brand, but
not before a child was borne also by his wife. After the divorce, he married the girlfriend and
moved out of state. A son blessed their marriage. Ike had quite a family by then for the
girlfriend had a boy and girl by a former marriage. Needless to say, it was a hectic situation.
This marriage did not survive. Going from the frying pan into the fire, Ike married for a third
time. Again, the family increased for No. 3, Ruth, had two daughters. Although he built a
lovely home and provided a nice life style, the marriage did not last - nor did his bank
accounts.

For a few year, he played the field. He really had some intelligent, attractive and caring
women who traveled with him and seemed to offer a nice future for both. Having had three
losses, he rejected the idea of another, that is until he met a widow with a home on the river
in northern Florida. He was older now and could see the need for roots. They were married,
and he was content to a point until his death in 1995.

How to access his influence upon me I do not know. I am certain he was far too much
older than I for a very deep brotherly relationship to develop. One thing I do know - he kept
the family in an up-roar more often than not.

Walter Bohman Goff, brother number 2, was opposite in many ways from "Ike". Walt
was not handsome nor as suave as his older brother. He was intelligent and tough. He
excelled in sports and studies. After graduation from Galena High School, he enrolled at
Otterbein College where he graduated in Pre-Med. During those years, he married Patricia
Evelyn Patrick of Sunbury, Ohio. She was attending Oberlin College to become a teacher.
They had to keep their marriage a secret because her mother objected to such a marriage and
threatened to cut off her financial support. Also, if it were known, Pat could not teach for
women were not allowed to be married and teach. Pat taught in Kilbourne at Brown
Elementary School.

In striving to become a doctor, Walt encountered many obstacles, He entered


-5-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (10)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (10)

Description

Corresponds to page 6 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Osteopathy training in Chicago, Illinois and Des Moines, Iowa. He interned in the state of
Washington among the lumbermen. Upon completion of requirements he went into practice
for many years.

A girl, Patty, and a boy, Walter II, were born during Washington and West Virginia
activities. These children were college-aged when their parents marriage ended,
Pat became a teacher again and came back to this area. Her later years were
difficult. She passed away and was buried with her family, the Patricks, in
Sunbury Memorial Cemetery.

Walt married a young woman and the two led a hectic life, he continued doctoring and
she worked in the office, and off on escapades when possible. This did not last long for his
health failed and he died from diabetes. He, too, is buried with Goff family members in
Sunbury Memorial Cemetery. Walt and Ike lie side by side.

Daughter, Patty, married her college sweetheart, William Garcia. They worked and
lived in the eastern section of the U.S. so I did not see them often. Patty was a teacher in one
of the colleges in New Jersey and also became an executive in A.T.&T. Bob and I visited
them at their home in New Jersey. They entertained us with by taking us on a tour of New
York City. We enjoyed the Statue of Liberty and having snacks and drinks on the top floor
of one of the Twin Towers. We also experienced a brush with a bag-lady!

Julia and I visited once and we were treated to a play on 42nd Street. Another visit
included Mary. Jim and Karen flew in from Florida and we enjoyed a small family reunion.

Patty is an excellent dollhouse constructor. She has an extensive workshop and does
a professional job on each creation. She and I share a love of this and of dolls.

The son, Walter Bohman Goff, the second, has become famous as an author! His first
book, Chain of Command came out in 1998. Being an author is not his only claim to fame,
His occupation, a radiologist in the United States Navy, provided world-wide travel and a
leader in the field. He was on the medical team of Walter Reed Hospital who operated on
President Reagan. Having recently retired from the navy he now teaches radiology at a
college in the San Diego area.

Wally and Sandy had two children, Tiara and Wayne. Tiara gave them a second
grandchild recently, but Wayne was killed in a motorcycle accident at nearby the Dam line.
Needless to say, Wayne's death is a deep tragedy. The birth of the second grandchild is a god-
sent joy. I am to visit them in May 2002 if plans go well. Wally is working on his fifth novel.

The third brother is Robert Harold Goff who is in his late 90's at this writing and is living in Westerville.

He is the artistic one --very creative. He was a jack-of-all trades and often master of them
as well. He graduated from


pictured at the top left to right are Patti, Pat, Walt and Wally Goff


pictured at the bottom left to right are Betty, Nancy, Bob, Martha holding Rita, John


-6-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (11)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (11)

Description

Corresponds to page 7 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Westerville High School and soon married another graduate, Martha Flickinger. To this
union were born four children, Betty, John, Nancy, and Rita. This family stayed together but
in their adulthood went their own ways. All are living as this is being written. John became
a prominent Physician in central Ohio. He retired from Riverside Hospital in Columbus, Ohio,
and became a leader in health care in Ohio Health.

John married Janet Ellis from Washington Courthouse, Ohio. They have a set of twins
(a girl and a boy) and an older daughter. Betty and Nancy live in Florida. Betty has two
daughters. Nancy has two daughters and a son.

Rita married Jim Wise and they have two boys and a girl.

The fourth brother, Harry, proved to be a god-send for me. He was my friend , my benefactor,
and all the other good things anyone wants to add. Harry also graduated from Westerville
High School and married another graduate, Marguerite Robertson. The war years found him
in the Navy and in the Pacific struggle. Although his ship, the U.S.S. Cashe was torpedoed it
was not destroyed and he came through it all safely.

When Harry returned home he bought a house and some acreage a few miles outside Powell,
which he worked over himself. He was employed by the Columbia Transit Company, stationed
at the bus garage on Broad Street. During my teaching years in Columbus we kept
in close touch. He was always there for me. He helped support me in my college years and
continued to be around to pick me up when I stumbled. When Harold died, he stayed with me
through it all.

When Harry was diagnosed with melanoma cancer, it was too wide spread to save him.
His death truly left me very much alone.

Many of you know my sister, Julia.

She lived on Letts Avenue in Sunbury until recently when she went to live with her daughter,
Karen, in Miami, Fla. With Harry, she supported me all the way. She has been a true sister's sister.I feel
very fortunate to have her.

In many ways Julia's life has been a mixture of ups and downs. She has always been beautiful as a
child, as a girl and as a woman, but her life experiences were sometimes not beautiful. Homelife
was hectic -- she felt like a servant with cooking, dishes, housework, washing and ironing for four older
brothers! School proved half and half -- she was capable and somehow classmates aren't kind to brain
children. Also Julia was popular with the fellows. She married a so-called "catch", Kendell
Hewett. He, too, was smart and modern. They were one of the happiest couples I have ever
known until World War II came. By then, Ken was a second lieutenant in theROTC at Ohio
State University. He was drawn into the regular army and sent to Georgia. Julia was pregnant
but she bravely went along. Karen was born in June. Ken shipped out to Europe in August.


pictured at top left to right Mother Goff, Harry and Marguerite

pictured at bottom left to right Karen, Kendall, RaeEtta, and Julia Hewett


-7-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (12)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (12)

Description

Corresponds to page 8 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Julia, Karen and I went to Indiantown Gap, Pa., to see him off. Julia's world was never the
same. Ken was gone for over three years. He chased Rommel across the desert, landed at
Salerno and invaded Italy.

While he was gone Julia tried various places to live and pursued several occupations.
Upon his return, she became pregnant and the restaurant she and brother Bob had in Sunbury
needed to be sold. Harold and I acquired it.

The birth of Rae Etta Lee was the beginning of another trial. She had failing health and
passed away at age two. The impact upon the family was unmeasurable. Julia's health took
a downward turn from which she never quite recovered. One operation after another kept her
down.

By this time they lived in Florida. Julia became an insurance secretary for a hospital
near her home. Kendell was an electrical engineer whose job sent him up north for extended
periods of time. Cancer caught up with him and he passed away in his early sixties. Julia
retired, moved back to Ohio for a few years, then went to live with her daughter, Karen, in
Miami.

Karen became an artist - one of Florida's four outstanding women artists there. She
has had south eastern exposure at art galleries and universities. She worked for cruise line
for several years. I was a recipient of four exciting cruises under her sponsorship.

Jim worked for the airlines as a CPA. As a result he and Karen traveled widely. They
now own an interest in an orange grove but still in Miami Where Julia joined them.

James (Jim) brother No. 5 lives in Kokomo Indiana. He is a father of four and
grandfather of several. It is a closely knit family as all live in Kokomo.

Jim graduated from Centerburg High School worked at odd jobs in the area, then, was
inducted into the Navy where he served in the Pacific during WWII. He and his brother,
Harry, met in the Hebrides Islands quite unusually. The USS Cache radioed for protection
from a Japanese sub. Jim's PBY was sent to drop depth charges. The charges missed. The
ship was hit but fortunately did not sink and limped into the island where Jim was stationed.
It was quite a reunion.

Jim, and his wife Jo Ann Williams, a Kokomo resident have enjoyed a very nice life style
and are still doing so.

The family is not as close as it once was and time is running out for all are past eighty
when anything can happen any time.

The following chapters explain why my life is so full of memories-some truly golden-
some not so glowing.


Early Recollections

It was in that sleepy town of Galena I met Santa cause. He came to town on a truck!
Fuzzily, he waved and shouted through a curly white beard, "Merry Christmas!" I think it
strange I have no recollection of our Christmas celebrations at home for my first six years. I
am certain there were decorated trees, specially baked food and practical gifts.

There were other impressive memories though both good and sad. One day, for
example, men carried "Ike"--as Frank Arthur became known--into the house on a stretcher.
He had had a very bad accident early in the morning on his way to work at a tile plant below
Westerville on Schrock Road. It was icy and the road was dangerous. Suddenly the shadow
of a buggy appeared ahead but it was so slippery when he hit the brakes, the car went out of
control, into a ditch, and crashed against a telephone pole. The passenger, Idora Watts, was


-8-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (13)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (13)

Description

Corresponds to page 9 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


killed and Ike was seriously injured.

A merrier time occurred when Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Fuzz came to visit. They were
jazz nuts. Dorothy played the piano and Fuzz blew a hot sax. In the evening "Ike" and
"Tom" -- Walter Bohman's nickname -- would invite their friends to come, bring their
instruments and enjoy an evening playing, singing and dancing. I would sit on my mother's lap
and drift happily off to dreamland.

The older boys - Ike and Tom - were active in football, basketball and baseball.
Needless to say, the whole family was involved in local games. The rivalry between Sunbury
and Galena hinted upon a Martin and McCoy feud. Often the boys came home with black eyes,
broken noses, and other bruises.Hoyt Whitney, "Hi" Morris, Carleton Burrer, and many other
locals suffered too! Incidentally, this rivalry continued in the two villages until the area became
Big Walnut - a school district incorporating them.

Life was a true mixture of joys and sorrows. One morning I went out in the front yard
to play and had a feeling something was not right Nobody else was in the yard and if anyone
came by, no one said anything. I later learned our dog, "Bus", was missing. When he was
found, it was evident that he had been poisoned. The story was a prominent young business
man had playfully started to chase Julia but Bus thought the man meant to harm her so Bus bit
him. Not long afterwards, Bus was dead.

To amuse myself it was not not unusual that I would play train. Dad worked for the
Pennsylvania Railroad as an operator. He was entitled to passes for his family to ride the train.
Mother loved to go to visit her family in various parts of Ohio and she would take the younger
ones along. These experiences enabled me to set chairs along the side of the dining room near
the windows, place imaginary people in them and then, I, the conductor, would collect tickets,
call out station stops and and imitate any other actions I could remember.

Interesting tidbits I have been told about my early life include the fact I was: spoiled,
a cry-baby, a breath holder, and a "come-on" for my older brothers. The reasons behind the
name-calling were I was a mama's girl. Whenever Mother wanted to go away without me, I
held my breath. That got her attention! Dad watched it happen a couple of times and then
told Mother to leave and assured Mother I would breathe -- and I did! It never happened
again.

The siblings teased me almost constantly -- they needed attention too. They got it
when I cried and I cried often. The two oldest boys used to go to Columbus to shop with
mother. They offered to carry me. The reason, it was later told, was the salesgirls would all
make a "fuss" over me permitting the boys an opportunity to flirt outrageously.

Being a railroad family, Dad employed by the Pennsylvania, and since our house was
located close to the tracks, the older members had become familiar with the schedules of the
trains, especially the locals , the flyers, the slow heavily laden cars, and the empties. One lovely
summer day when I was just beginning to walk well, Mother could not find me. She glanced
at the clock and realized it was nearly time for the daily flyer to go through. Quickly , she
alerted all the family members who immediately fanned out in all directions to find baby sister.
The older boys took the tracks, the younger ones the streets. A gratefully sigh of relief escaped
Mother when I was found on Colonel Jones' lawn happily tossing picture postcards all over
the grass. The flyer went through Galena that day with incident.

My sister, Julia, was a wonderful story-teller. She would put Jim and me to sleep at
night telling us interesting tales. sometimes, my brother, Bob, would insert his dry witty
remarks into her stories and instead of sleeping we would go into giggling fits.


-9-



Doors to the Corridors of Memories (14)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (14)

Description

Corresponds to page 10 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


"Uncle Charlie" Geiselman became a family visitor and friend. He was a foreman on
the section crew of the railroad. Mother cooked meals for his crew. After they ate,
they would enjoy the family before retiring. "Uncle Charlie" was quite partial to Julia
and would often bring her trinkets or give her some money for helping Mother
with the dirty dishes. Occasionally he would bring his wife and visit us on a weekend.
We all learned to look forward to his visits. He remained a very important person to our
family all his life.

In the 1920's there were no public streetlights. Some people had only coal-oil lamps or gas
mantels lighting their homes. The worst burn I ever experienced was from a lantern.
Mother put me up on the kitchen table to wash me. When she went to wash my feet, I
reared back and one of my hands came to rest on the hot globe of the lantern. Needless
to say, I had a nasty burn.

One moonless night, Mother needed some eggs to finish her baking. She asked
someone to go to our neighbors, the Van Fleets, to get some. No one volunteered. Although
I was the youngest --just around five years old -- I said I would go. I can remember how very
frightened I was groping my way down the dirt road, turning my ankles on the rough stones
and trying to keep form crying. I arrived at VanFleet's safely enough and got the eggs but
good fortune escaped me on the way back. I do not know to this day whether the boys made
horrible noises or whether it was a prowling animal but I started to run, stumbled, and made
scrambled eggs with egg shells for seasoning!

We were fortunate to have a radio in our home. I can remember hearing Little Jack
Little play the piano and some songs were: "O' Dem Golden Slippers", "She'll Be Comin'
Round the Mountain", "Krazy Kat", and "Kitten on the Keys".

Mother was a good cook and always had a good meal to serve. One dish I enjoyed
was her fruit salad. For Sunday evenings, she would prepare fresh pineapples, oranges, and
bananas in a glass dish on a stem. It was not only nice to look, at, it smelled good, too.

Other foods she made were: hot mush and milk -- the left-over mush was put into loaf
pans and the next morning sliced and fried for breakfast; fresh baked bread, rolls and cinnamon
rolls too; pies--every kind and variety; canned fruits, vegetables, and meat; jams, jellies, and
pickles; and all other popular items of the current times.

Mother always did the washing (as laundry was called) on Monday-- weather
permitting. Sometimes it would be necessary to hang clothes in the house-- around stoves,
over registers, and whenever else the heat could be used to dry them. Mom had a Maytag
gasoline washer. It was a real put-putter! The noise of the motor told everyone what was
happening. Our neighbors, the VanFleets, had a washer one had to push a lever back and forth
to stir the clothes. Mrs. VanFleet would set me atop the tub of clothes--my legs strattling
the lever, and I would push and pull that lever and consequently wash the clothes. I thought
it was great fun --you could pretend you were rowing your own boat, or steering your own
wheels, and never, never land was right there on that wash tub. After the clothes were washed
and rinsed in bluing water, they were hung outdoors on clothes lines. Sheets, towels, shirts,
undies, and all manner of clothing and linens flapped in the breeze and dried in the sun. It was
devastating when birds flew over and soiled some clothing or linens --they had to be redone.
Sometimes the clothesline would break---dirt or grass stain soiled the wash.


picture of "Uncle" Charlie Geiselman


-10-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (15)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (15)

Description

Corresponds to page 11 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


In the first six years of my life there were no indoor bathrooms or plumbing. Yet, I
do not remember using outdoor facilities. I have no recollection of odors, accidents of anti-
social events. With seven children, grandmother, aunts and uncles in the house, Dad and
Mom must have had the household under great control.

Pictures in the family album indicate there was company often, and, since most of the
relatives lived a far distance away, they usually stayed the night. There would be "doubling-
up" of the children who were made soft beds on the floor. It was, of course, fun time! Story-
telling, laughing, pillow fights, tickling matches were all a part of the night-time activities.
Sleep always won the game, though.

The last memorable event which took place in Galena for me was my sixth year
birthday party. The invited guests were Sunday School friends. Some last names I recall
were Dustin, Linaberry and Longshore. I also recall one gift I received. It was a miniature
indoor crochet set. I truly enjoyed it.

Right after the party we moved to Westerville, Ohio, and our lives were changed
forever.


A New Start

Everything was different. Our home was made of brick! The three little pigs now had
nothing on me! Just next door was a doctor, Dr. Howe. He had a daughter, Mary Lou, who
was just my age. Her brother, Buddy, was soon a friend also.

There was little time for play as school started the day after Labor Day and I was
enrolled in the first grade. Vine Street School was a huge, big brick and stone structure.
Miss Anderson was my teacher. She was very strict and scared me half-to-death. I was
disciplined just once -- that proved sufficient! I heard fun noises in the hall and left my seat
along with a few others to go to the door to see what was happening. Naturally, we were
caught! Out of one's seat meant missing recess -- sitting in one"s seat, head down and quiet!

The grading system was Excellent, Good, Fair, Poor, Unsatisfactory. Apparently I
was progressing well for I never received a "P" or "U."

Second grade was uneventful during the first semester. It was interesting to see a
picture of a World War I soldier on the desk of my teacher. During the second semester we
students were told about the man in the picture. It was Joyce Kilmer, the poet, famous for his
Poem, Trees. He was a close relative of our teacher.

A very disappointing event occurred for me at the end of that school year. I got the
measles! I missed the last two weeks of school and the annual school picnic.

The third grade proved to be a sad one. Scarlet fever was rampant in the community.
Many families were quarantined. One of our students, Robert Adair, died. Gloom settled over
our class: but then, loved bloomed. Junior Ullom and I were drawn to each other. He gave me
the cutest Dutch Boy pin. Unfortunately, I do not know what happened to it.

Another annual event each year was a musical directed by Miss Mill, the
music teacher, for the elementary. Each class had a part either acting, dancing, singing, or
playing instruments. When my class danced, we had to have costumes of the country we
represented. I remember Mother making my outfit. The skirt was full- gathered on a waist
band. Around the bottom she sewed three rows of gathered crepe paper ruffles. The blouse
was a shirt type, but it was set off with a black and orange trimmed bodice which laced down
the front. The only auditorium and stage was at Westerville High School. We walked from
Old Vine Street school (now called Emerson) to the high school (now a middle school on


-11-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (16)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (16)

Description

Corresponds to page 12 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


State Street) to practice. The night of the presentation was exciting! Our parents always came
away impressed and proud of the performances.

My love for poetry was established in the fourth grade. Miss Beavers must have read
a lot to us, Then, for a present to each of us, she gave a book of poetry entitled "One
Hundred Best Poems for Boys and Girls". I still have the book, and it has inspired choral
readings, memorization, and writing.

But, activity other than school was also interesting. Summer time was never long
enough. There was Bible School at the Westerville Methodist Church. A beautiful library
offered great reading. There was a movie house with matinees on Saturdays. One movie I
remember seeing was called "Just Imagine". You were shown what could happen in the
future -- like fly to the moon!

There were street fairs with rides, games, square-dancing, and all sorts of exciting
things to do. Needless-to-say, my education advanced in leaps and bound. I recall the shock
I got when I first saw a lady breast-feed her baby on the ferris wheel!

Chatauqua came to town each summer. I loved it. You had a chance to be in a
drama. One had to show for practice and then you were admitted free to all the productions.

Huge crowds came. Orators gave speeches -- some political and some religious. I
honestly don't remember the subject of any of it -- just the knowledge that I took part in it.

Glengarry Pool was located south of Westerville. Most of my family knew how to
swim. They had learned in the "ole swimmin" holes of Big walnut Creek near Galena. I had
not. Nor did the fancy pool beckon me -- only when all the others were going.

When evening came in warm weather, the neighborhood children all go together to
play games. "Go-Sheepie-Go, "Hide and Seek", "Red Rover, "New York, New York"
were some of the games we played. "Hop Scotch" and Jump Rope" were daylight joys.

My individual fun was roller skating and using a hand-cart. Both required relatively
smooth surfaces for safe easy maneuvering, I recall with pangs of pain the scraped knees and
sore ankles. All sidewalks were not concrete when I was young. Bricks, laid in patterns,
slabs of stone (some sunken or raised in unexpected places) hard packed dirt, and some
concrete very roughly finished, were the pathways. Falls were frequent. Knees took a
beating. Ankles were equally hurt when pavement caused sharp turns of the wheel hitting the
ankle bones. This was the reason I wrote the poem "Roller Skating". This poem won 2nd
place in state women's club contest.

Roller Skating

When I was a child of eight
My pleasure was to roller skate.
When springtime chased away the snow
Out on the sidewalks I would go
On shiny skates, with ball-bearings wheels
Tightly clamped to toes and heels.
Away I flew past house and store
Until my legs could move no more!
Upon a curb I'd rest a while
Then push on another mile.


-12-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (17)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (17)

Description

Corresponds to page 13 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


When summer came and it was hot
A skating rink was then my lot.
At a pavilion in the park
I would skate from dawn 'til dark.
For in that rink the music beat
A happy pathway for my feet.
Late into the autumn season
I always had a perfect reason
To be outdoors 'til late at night
And let my heart and feet take flight.

When I was old enough to date
I still loved to roller skate.
My college friends and I would find
A skating rink, and spend our time
Waltzing to the rhythmic sound
That the jute-box organ ground.
I am much, much older now.
Winter shows upon my brow:
But, there is still that gnawing yen
To free my soul- to skate again!

In evening Ike and Aloma would often drop in. The adults would play a game
called Finch. Aloma would win often, and I discovered how - when no one was looking she
would drop a card from her pile onto the floor. When the game was over, she retrieved them
again, unnoticed.

While in Westerville, we moved twice. On Hamilton Avenue we lived next door to
a black family whom I never saw. Our neighbors on the other side were a talented group.
Mr. Lubby was a reporter for the Columbus newspaper. Frederick, the oldest son, became
a well-known musician, and Robert became a D. O. The Cheeks lived north of us as did the
DeVoes. The Bennetts lived across the street. She was a concert soprano. The Hogbushes
lived on one side of Bennetts while two old men lived on the other side.

Keeping a large family financially difficult. That is why my mother did a few
money-making chores. One chore was stringing triggers. A friend worked at Kilgores, a local
company which manufactured toys. The gun needed a spring to work the metal trigger. Our
friend would bring boxes of each and the family would gather around the table and "string"
triggers. All one needed was a screw driver to pull the spring over the metal piece. Some
evening we would do enough to keep the worker at the plant supplied for several days.

Mu bothers had all sorts of pets. Two crows, snakes, dogs, cats, a pony and other
creepy crawly creatures. The crows were rumored to have said words. The boys had put
chicken wire around some trees in the back yard. Mother made them make a cage and put
them in the basement. The crows often escaped the cage. One day they flew into the open
window of our neighbors. They roosted on his bedstead. He was not amused. In early
spring, it rained excessively and backed up into the basement. The sound of the water must
have frightened the birds for they were found floating on the water.

Julia refused to hang clothes out in the backyard until the snakes were taken away.


-13-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (18)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (18)

Description

Corresponds to page 14 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Tippy was our family dog. We all loved him dearly. He was short hair, white except
for two black spots -- one on his forehead and one where his tail began. He was a well-
rounded animal. Reared in an active family of people, he developed into a hunting dog, a
house dog, a well-tempered pet, but, he was also guardian of the home, the family possessions
and the people he believed to be his. There were numerous happenings which made Tippy
special. When the boys took him rabbit or squirrel hunting, he would run the trails and work
so hard he exhausted himself. At the end of the day, one of the happy hunters would carry
Tippy home. Once he was home, he would curl up near the furnace register, go to sleep but
dream he was still hunting. All four feet would be going fast and he would be yipping --
many times loud enough he woke himself up.

Tippy had a long tail that stuck straight up from his behind. When he was playing, he
would wag his tail constantly. One day in his jubilance he struck his tail against a railing and
broke it. Poor Tippy -- now his tail just flopped. My older brother , Walt, came home from
college that evening and he saw Tippy. Walt was studying medicine. He felt Tippy's tail,
gave it a yank, and back to its height it went! A couple of popsickle sticks and some adhesive
tape made an excellent splint. At first Tippy was going to tear it off but we all kept telling
him no-no. Thank goodness, he believed us and soon his tail was healed.

Another time during his life we noticed Tippy was limping. At first we thought he had
just had some little problem and all would be well. It wasn't it. One morning he could not
move his back legs - he just dragged them along.

Our neighbor was a druggist and he also raised Springer Spaniels for sale. Walt asked
him what we could do. (In those days, our family did not visit veterinarians -- probably
because we not afford to do so, or maybe none were close around). The druggist gave
us pills of some kind and told us to heat salt packs and put them on his hind parts. All of us
took turns making certain Tippy had warm salt packs, took his medicine, and kept him clean.
Miracles of miracles, Tippy recovered fully!

Besides pets to deal with, there were other problems. One was my stockings. The
style for girls was long, knitted stockings -- those which went above one's knees. Mine
would not stay up and would fall down over my shoes and I would trip on them! We went
home from school to eat lunch. I had to stop so often to pull up my stocking that I was late
for lunch. Mother was not happy when I started to cry and did not want to go back to
school. "Well I'll fix that!" she said. Out came the sewing machine, some pink material and
some elastic garters. in no time at all, I had a garter-belt to wear. I ran all the way back to
school and my stockings did not fall down even once!

Cars seemed to be a headache for the family. Fixing them at home was a must - costs
were high. I can remember my brothers and mother lining the brakes. Mom also helped Jim,
the youngest boy, string bicycle wheels.

Mother was a member of a prominent club in Westerville called Nonpariel. She was
responsible for writing and presenting a paper on an assigned subject one year and
entertaining the club at her home the next year. Her efforts became the source of my poem
"Club woman" written many years later.

When Mother was to entertain one year when we still lived on Hamilton Avenue, she
had a problem. The house was limited on bedrooms. Walter and Evelyn had to have a room;
three boys (Bob, Harry, and Jim) had a room; and Julia and I ended up in Mother's and Dad's
room. Mother did not want the ladies to see how crowded we were; so, she had the boys take
Julia's and my bed apart, put it in the closet; and, then, rearranged the room to her fancy.


-14-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (19)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (19)

Description

Corresponds to page 15 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Club Woman

My mother was a club woman
And, it has been my lot
To be involved with others
Who have the same desires I've got.
Every fall the challenge comes
When that booklet meets one's hands
And tells you what the theme will be
And of you what it demands.

If to entertain was mother's fate
The course of action was quite clear.
Not one spot within our house
Would escape her cleaning gear.
Our lives were never quite the same
As she made her palace glow
And serve new recipes to us
Made of what, we did not know.

My father must have groaned with pain
As mom painted or papered walls,
Washed and stretched, starched and ironed
The curtains in all the rooms and halls,
She bleached the linen white as snow
Brought out her Sunday set of dishes
Cleaned the carpet, polished floors,
And put the dogs on leashes.

The rest of us learned where to hide
When club time rolled around,
For mother's patience and demands
Each one of us would hound.
Yet, when we reaped the benefits
Of each sight, and taste, and smell,
We knew our trials were over
And all had ended well.

Every other year it seemed
Mother's job for club would be
To research some subject or event
With depth and clarity.
She read, she wrote, she ranted,
She sought experts learned advice.
She summarized and then presented
An extension paper, candid and precise.

Now, here I am, a club mother
A mother's daughter true;
My club lift fits the pattern
I've just described to you.
Yet, I see the pattern changing
For our daughters' lives are crammed
With Little Leagues and family needs
With careers, computer-programmed.

There was a sun parlor in the Hamilton Avenue house. At Christmas time, Mother
put our tree right in the center of it. One could walk all around the tree and admire its beauty.
I remember how I did just that and sang every Christmas carol I knew while enjoying the
ornaments and trying to guess what was in the packages under the tree. Though I thought
I knew every ornament on the tree, Christmas morning was always a thrill. Bowls of nuts,
fruits -- especially oranges -- and candies were added to other gifts. A doll for me, a sled for
Jim, a dress for Julia, and on it went -- something for every member of the family.

Mother was seldom ill, but one Christmas, she was feeling so bad, she had to be in
bed. I remember how Dad cooked Christmas dinner, directed the activities of the Christmas
celebration, and kept all of us under control.

The third move we made in Westerville was to a hug house on the northwest corner
of Broadway and State Street. It was a wonderful place! We all had bedrooms, two large
baths, a third floor for a playroom, and a cellar for everything! There was a porch from the
front hallway around the south side. Roses climbed the trellises and gave an enclosed feeling
to the porch. When Walt graduated from Otterbein, our pictures were taken in front of those
roses. My tombstone is fashioned from my pictures taken there that time.

Behind the house was a large garden and a barn. The story was a doctor had lived in


-15-


Doors to the Corridors of Memories (20)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (20)

Description

Corresponds to page 16 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


the house. His daughter had a horse which was stabled in the barn. One day when she was
riding down State Street, her horse slipped on the rails of the streetcar tracks, threw her off,
and she died of her injuries.

Brother Jim was allowed to keep a pony for a friend who went on vacation one
summer. We enjoyed having it but only for a short time.

I remember starting piano lessons after moving to State Street -- probably because the
parlor was where the piano was kept. This room had beautiful sliding doors. One set led to
a hallway and front door while the other set opened to a sitting room where the radio, and the
reading table. were. From the sitting room one could go through double doors to the dining
room and through still another set of sliding doors to the sewing room. Single doors led from
the sewing room to a back porch and to the bathroom respectively.

From the dining room there was a short hallway from which one had access to the
bathroom on one side or a pantry on the other, and into the kitchen.

As I think about it now, the pantry must have been a thing of joy for my mother.
There were cupboards for everything! The kitchen was large and accommodated a sink and
drainboard, a large table, an ice-box, a stove, and some chairs.

From the kitchen, a back stairs led to the second floor. The first bedroom was Bob's,
Directly through the hall was a bathroom with a door at each end to permit one to go to the
other bedrooms ahead. At the front of the house where the front stairs were, was a beautiful
bedroom with aa window seat and numerous windows. Walt and his wife, Patricia Evelyn
Patrick, lived in that room. Pat was teacher at Kilbourne, Ohio, and Walt was a student at
Otterbein College.

Just north of their room was a small room where Grandmother Bohman would sleep
when she came to visit. I can only remember a single iron bed being there.

Mother's and Dad's bedroom was quite large. they put a cot in one corner for me to
sleep on whenever I had nightmares. It must have been frequent for I remember sleeping
there often.

You can imagine the fun to be in such a house with so many people of different ages
sharing the household work and and expenses. Dinner in the evening usually found all of us
together and more often than not, friends of someone's also. Julia and I usually had table
setting and dishes as our chores. There were always potatoes, meat vegetables home-made
breads, homemade condiments, and dessert. How mother did all the work, I truly do not
know!

Dad never missed a day at work until he became desperately ill. doctors were
consulted. He had a goiter. It was wrapped around his windpipe and was slowly choking him
to death. It was imperative to have it removed immediately. Dr. Krody at White Cross
hospital performed the successful operation. It was the best Christmas present we had that
year. It occurred to me that Aloma had the Christmas dinner that year. Art and she lived on
Hiawatha Avenue in Westerville. I can't remember any details though.

After his recovery, Dad told us of his experience during the operation. He said it was
as if he were at one end of a curtain, and on either side of it hung a swinging ball. He was
instructed not to let the balls swing through the curtain and touch each other. Fortunately,
they never did.

Julia had a bad break too. She slipped on a basket ball in gym class--broke one ankle
and sprained another. She really suffered with those. Jim had a serious accident , too. He
was roller skating when he tripped, fell backwards, and cut his had on some broken glass.


-16-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (21)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (21)

Description

Corresponds to page 17 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

He did not take good care of it right away. A red streak ran up his arm. Hot poultices were
periodically applied for a long time before the streak disappeared and Jim began to feel better.

It was a very busy household. Bob worked at Culver Art and Frame Company. He
had artistic talent and the job brought it out. Harry worked for Alkire's Filling station just
north of State Street. Jim and I had Citizen newspaper routes. Mother kept Julia busy
cooking, baking and general household chores.

Mother had a Larkin route. This company sold spices, cough syrup, and things of that
nature. This gave her a little extra for such things a china. (I have the Nortoki dishes she got
through Larkin. They are beautiful.)

I mentioned piano lessons began when we moved to the State Street house. This
proved to be important to me for the remainder of my life. Music fills a part of my life from
which I still get a thrill. Members of the family encourage me to practice. Bob gave me a
piano roll to carry my music to my lessons. It was a piece of leather with elastic strips on each
corner. I would lay the pieces of music on it, secure the corners, roll it up, fasten the strap,
and carry it by its handle. While it prevented the music from falling apart or perhaps getting
wet, one had to "unroll" it. My lesson cost fifty cents for a half hour of personal instruction
and a group lesson in theory per week. I was not as disciplined to practice as I should have
been, but I performed at recitals quite well.

My first recital was at the Westerville Methodist Church. I played a piece called "Criss Cross",
named such because the left hand had to criss-cross the right. Mother made me a taffeta
from a hand-me-down from Cousin Goldie's wardrobe. I thought it was beautiful. It helped
me to have the courage to go onto the stage, play my piece, and accept the applause of the
audience. Mrs. Gammil, a music teacher from Sunbury, said I fell asleep in her arms before
the recital was over.

Westerville at State and Broadway

It was fun living there for other reasons. The inter-urban stopped at that corner to pick up and
discharge passengers. One day when I was playing on the sidewalk nearby, I saw something on


Photo of Jeanette in her piano recital dress
Westerville, 1933


-17-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (22)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (22)

Description

Corresponds to page 18 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

the grass. I left my pushcart to investigate. It was a dollar bill! Since there was no one around,
I grabbed it up and ran in the house shouting to Mom. She went to the window to see if
anyone had returned to look for it, but there was no one in sight. She advised me to put it on
the shelf; and if no one asked about it, I could keep it. What a long, long time it was before
she said I could keep it.

That incident led to my first independent shopping spree. I was helping Jim deliver
newspapers, so after collection time I was "paid". Saving up my pay gave me spending
money. I was never permitted to go to the corner drug store to meet friends, to have a soda,
or to just fool around; but I was accompanied to the dry goods store. There one could buy
material to make a dress or other wearable garments, buy accessories, and the like. I can
remember two of the purchases - a rayon knit beret and a string of red beads. What joy for
me! I have loved shopping ever since if it is my money I am spending.

During that time there were two delivery services to our homes which children
enjoyed - the milk man and the ice man. In our kitchen was an icebox - known now as a
refrigerator. It had an ice chest which held an ice cake weighing at least fifty pounds. There
was a tube from this to a pan on the floor where the water from the melting ice would run.
Next to the ice one could set bottles of milk and other perishables. The lower part under the
ice chest would accommodate packages of meat while the whole other side of the icebox had
shelves for butter, eggs, and the like. If you needed ice, you placed a card in your window-
25, 50, 75, or 100 lbs. The delivery man would chop off the desired amount, bring it in, and
place it in the chest. You paid him and all was well. Since Broadway had no outlet at that
time, the delivery man had to service the street and come back to the corner. He would chip
off a piece of ice, give it to any children around, and the let us ride up and down the street
with him. It was a real treat! If you wrapped the ice in newspaper, it lasted longer and kept
your hands warm. sometimes the ice was clear as crystal - shiny and bright: sometimes it
was frosty where air bubbles were locked in; but, it was always cooling and pleasant on a hot
summer's day.

The milk man also gave spice to life. His wagon was pulled by a horse. When I heard
his bells jungle, out I would run. If the delivery man was in a good mood, I would be able to
go up and down Broadway helping him deliver milk. You set the bottles out on your step -
half pints, pints, and quarts. You could leave a note in a bottle for butter, buttermilk, or
cottage cheese. Many times the money was left with the note. Some people had chests on the
steps. On a cold wintery day the milk would freeze and the cream would pop the cardboard
top up! I don't remember the milk man giving us any thing other other than the privilege of riding
in the horse-drawn wagon and trusting me to deliver his products.

Playing games proved exciting one day. Jim and I were playing "hide and seek". It was
his turn to hide; so I hid my eyes, counted a good number, and shouted "Coming, ready or
not". No answer. I ran all over the house - up one stairway and down another. No Jim. Finally
I called for him, and I heard a muffled "help!" After several exchanges I finally located him.
He had crawled into the laundry shoot of the downstairs bath and he was dangerously clinging
to a shirt hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I tried to help, but he was too heavy for
me to pull up. Screaming for help, I ran for Mom, Julia, and Pat. They all came running
encouraging me to be calm. Mother quickly took charge. She sent Julia to the basement with
a broom to push Jim upward while she and Pat pulled and tugged until they could lift him
safely out. At first it was tears of relief; but then it was tears of laughter! Needless to say the
game was over.


-18-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (23)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (23)

Description

Corresponds to page 19 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Another incident ended in laughter so hard we all cried. Brother "Ike" was manager
of the grocery store in Westerville. When peach season came, he always had the job of
making certain only good peaches were sold. If a peach had a bruise or had started to spoil,
he had to dispose of it. Whenever he sorted the fruit, he would send Mother all the spoiled
peaches. she in turn, put all of us to work pealing peaches, removing the spoiled parts and
seeds. We cut the good parts into small pieces and put them into huge pots. Dad had carved
paddles with long handles for us to stir the peaches as they cooked. One had to stir or the
combinations of sugar and cooking peaches would stick on the bottom of the kettle and burn
ruining the batch.

When the mixture was bubbling rather rapidly it would occasionally pop out on to the
floor. One of us would step in it and start sticking to the floor.

While the mixture cooked, jars had to be gathered, washed and sterilized. Lids, used
over every year, had to be boiled. Those of us working rotated the jobs so we would not get
too tired stirring the pots. By evening, however, our energy began to wane. when the last jar
was filled, clean-up began. The kettles, the stove, the wooden paddles, and the sticky floor
all had to be cleaned. That was hard work but triggered people's sense of humor. One remark
led to another until hysterics took over. Needless to say all of us fell into bed that night.

The fifth grade was the turning point of my educational life. Dad was "bumped" from
his job and forced to move north to a similar job in Centerburg, Ohio. We moved from
Westerville to Centerburg, and life for my family and myself was radically changed.


Move to Centerburg

Life in Centerburg brought new experiences in our family life. Not all the siblings
moved to Centerburg. Harry chose to get a room and establish his own abode. He was
successfully employed by Kroger and needed to further his independence.

Julia did not want to interrupt her school year so it was arranged for her to stay with
the Presbyterian minister, Rev. White and his daughters until the school term ended.

Robert was not happy with the move and threatened to join the Navy. Instead, he
moved back to Westerville, became a butcher for Kroger, and had his own abode.

Jim and I entered the classes of Centerburg schools and were very warmly accepted.

Since these events were all happening in the early 1930's political influences were
touching every family. The Great Depression was upon us. For example, the house into which
we moved had belonged to Mr. Smith, a banker who committed suicide when his bank failed.
Because Dad had a permanent job he was considered well-to-do and moving into this house
supposedly confirmed it. We were accepted into the leading social groups in the village.

It was a turning point in my educational life. My grades in school were almost perfect.
I was so encouraged that I made every effort to maintain high grades and perform on the
piano. Since Mrs. Gammil came to Centerburg, I took lessons from her for awhile. It became
evident that her expertise was limited so I was driven to Westerville to resume lessons with
Miss Hanawalt.

Our neighbors were very interesting people and we all were soon very good friends.
Mrs. Greek and her invalid mother lived on one side of us. Although Mrs. Greek was a school
teacher, she must have also loved farm life for she kept a cow on the land behind her house.
When she milked the cow, she would run the milk through a separator which would separate
the cream from the skim milk. She only used the cream and would quite often give the skim
milk to us. It never went to waste at our house.


-19-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (24)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (24)

Description

Corresponds to page 20 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


The Philip family lived on the other side of us. There were two boys near Jim's and
my ages. The grandfather, grandmother, and the boys' parents all lived together. They, too,
were farmers and the land behind their home and the house we lived in belonged to them. In
the midsummer it was a busy exciting time when the threshers came. The huge big steam
engines would be started and their noises would fill the air. Several farmers from around the
area came with their and wagons to help bring the mowed wheat from the fields to the
machines; and, then, be heaped with straw to be stored in the barns or piled in huge haystacks.
Jim and I were invited to ride on the wagons. For us it was an adventure and great fun. For
the farmers it was hot, arduous work. Even the farmers' wives were involved. While the men
worked the fields, the women prepared food for lunch and dinner. What beautiful and
bountiful tables! Each woman made her specialty, and no one went hungry.

The Sheedys lived across the street, Kathryn and Jack were very friendly. Kathryn was
a bit older than Jim, and Jack a bit older than I. Jim and Jack became exceptionally good
friends. They improvised a system to contact one another by stringing wires between our
houses. They fixed up an old car- they called a speedster because the body was shaped like
a bullet. They entered it in the fourth of July parade. Jack played a clarinet and because we
both enjoyed music, we spent a lot of time together too. Tragedy struck, and we experienced
the worst emotional upheaval in our lives. Just before he was to graduate from the eighth
grade, Jack decided to gather some willow sticks to make whistles. He rode his bicycle
outside the village to the creek where the willow trees grew. He saw some limbs he wanted
and climbed the tree. When he took his knife out and reached to cut the limbs, he slipped and
fell. He had not realized the high tension wires running through the branches. When he fell.
He was electrocuted immediately.

There was little that consoled our neighborhood for many weeks. I spent many
afternoons at the cemetery. I wrote a poem concerning Jack. I tried to help Jim cope. He got
rid of the speedster and avoided music Jack liked. I am not certain how long it took to accept
the situation, but I know we moved to Utica, Ohio, not long afterwards. Our lives changed
again quite radically.

I became twelve years old while in Centerburg and , again, I was given a birthday
party. I honestly cannot remember anyone who came or any presents. I do remember a dress
my cousin, Goldie, gave me but nothing else.

Four H club became a vital part of my education. I belonged to both a sewing club
and a food club. We met weekly at the school. During the summer there was a week of
camping at Millwood, Ohio. It was located in farm fields near a river. Tents were pitched,
cots were beds, and a cook shack was a crude building. It cost to go, but if you supplied some
food stuffs, you were given credit for it. My mother always did a lot of canning so she
provided half food and half money so I could go to camp. What a joy it was! I know I was
able to go one more summer. During those times I met many interesting people. I remember
Richard Bone from one occasion. He an I were table setters. By mistake, we put salt in the
sugar bowls one morning at breakfast. Needless to say, we weren't too popular that day. The
reason I mention it, Dick was a soldier of the Baatan Death March, and he survived! I have
often wondered if he kept his mind on silly incidences such as that to help him through the
ordeal.

My first major writing experience came during my junior high years in Centerburg. In
English class an assignment was made to write a Halloween story. The reward was
publication in the local newspaper. It was a memorable occasion when my story was chosen,


-20-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (25)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (25)

Description

Corresponds to page 21 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


but, unfortunately, I neither remember the story itself or have a copy of it. When a writers
class was formed at Utica during my freshman year in high school, I joined. I was greatly
encouraged by the positive comments the teacher made about my work. Poetry became my
favorite mode of expression about that time and has remained so ever since.

The move to Utica was near disaster for the family. Life was not easy for any of us
during the 1930's. While my father always had a job as a telegraph operator for the
Pennsylvania Railroad, it was often uncertain where he would be located. Because of this, his
sister, Aunt Ett, encouraged him to move to the farm located on a road which was a short-cut
from Blacksnake Road to the St. Louisville road just a few miles west of Utica. Glowing
rewards were dangled before everyone's eyes. Obstacles remained hidden until reality struck.

Walt and Julia moved to the farm first to establish a flock of chickens, a source of
milk, a sty for pigs, and any other productive food source. Julia was happy to get away from
the immediate family - mother was going through "the change of life" and truly life was
definitely challenging. Walt had met a setback in his career - a medical school had not
accepted him because of lack of money - not grades. Walt was on the verge of a nervous
breakdown. The farm did not help matters much. The weather turned bad - cold, snow, and
ice. the brooder house caught fire. The calves got pneumonia and died. The pigs survived
and lo - a mother sheep and her lamb showed up in the barnyard.

When school was out in the spring the remainder of the family moved to the farm -
except for Dad. An apartment was kept in Centerburg so Dad could continue his work.

Everyone was busy. There was a huge garden to be plowed, planted , and tended. I
recall Mother planted flowers between different beds of vegetables. It made working in the
garden pleasant - the odors and the colors added greatly to the tasks.

To reward us for our efforts, Mother made root beer, bottled it, and put it down in
the well in a burlap sack to age. In late August there was nothing more cooling than a bottle
of that root beer.

Mother enjoyed raising canaries. Naturally, the chores of cleaning the cages, feeding
and watering them became my brother's , sister's, and my jobs. It wouldn't have been so bad
except there were several cages and more than one canary in each. Dad made the cages for
the most part. He collected twigs, cut, peeled, and made the cage very comfortable for the
birds. There they made beautiful music and some actually became pets.

Strange, the pleasure Julia and I got from simple things. Often Mother would
stay a day or two with Dad in Centerburg, Sis and I would have late night snacks of the
forbidden drink - coffee - toast with homemade jelly. How good it tasted!

When September rolled around it was time for school. I was to be in the eighth grade.
Within two miles of the farm was a one-room school. This was where I was supposed to go,
but my father objected. He wanted me to go to the large school in Utica. The school board
refused to transport me; so father said he would provide the transportation. Dad gave up the
apartment in Centerburg and had Jim, my brother, drive him back and forth to work. Since
Dad worked nights, he and Jim would arrive in the morning just in time to get Julia, Jim and
me to school on time.

All went well for a time. Chestnut hunting, sawing lumber, hauling walnuts, preparing
henhouses and barns for winter kept us busy. Then came the snow and the cold temperatures.
The car would not start sometimes or the road was so drifted with snow, Jim couldn't get
through. Or, if Jim wanted to miss a test, he conveniently slid into a drift. Jim didn't have time
to study much so I realized his need for make-up oral tests. He always told me I learned my


-21-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (26)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (26)

Description

Corresponds to page 22 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


history by doing his notebooks for him. The strange part is that I did profit form it. I did
extremely well on county and state tests for the next three years.

Regardless of the interruptions Julia graduated from high school, Jim passed to the
senior class, and I became a sophomore.

During the summer we joined 4-H clubs and softball teams. We played mostly in
pasture fields made into temporary ball fields. I was a catcher. One evening we were playing
in a field where cows had grazed that day. I ran to catch a foul ball, caught it, but tripped and
sat down in huge pile of cow dung. To make maters worse, I had on my favorite white
linen shorts. We won the game though, and after a clean up at a friend's house - Marjorie Mix
in St. Lousville - we all went to a movie at Newark, Ohio. Bob Burns and Marie McDonald
sang "I like the Wide Open Spaces".

My freshman year at Utica High School was probably the reason I later became a
teacher. Clarence Ball was the superintendent - and the Latin teacher. Latin I had a handful
of college hopefuls in it. Scheduled for the first period in the morning made it very difficult
for Mr. Ball to get out of his office and into our class. It did not take long for routine to set
in, so I took it upon myself to start the class whenever he couldn't make it. Although he never
said anything, my grades reflected his appreciation; and I learned Latin.

After learning about Roman life, I built a Roman house for my project. Julia and Jim
became interested and helped me with it. The floor coverings Julia created had Greek designs.
Mr. Ball was so excited over it that he arranged a dinner at the home of the superintendent
of Homer's School to show it and me off. It was a great reward! Talk about Dewey - learn
by doing!

I remember another very important lesson - logical, scientific, thinking. Mr. Lawyer,
our science teacher, insisted upon notebook work emphasizing: 1. state the problem; 2.
propose solutions; 3. gather material evidence; 4. test the evidence; 5. draw conclusions.
What a teacher! Here was another learning tool for living.

Living on the farm gave me my first psychic experiences. While Dad and Julia were
aware of this side of life, neither hinted nor gave any indication of it at that time. My most
traumatic experience concerned our dogs, Pug and Brinnie. Our family was on the way to
Newark and we had left Pug and Brinnie loose in the yard. I suddenly had a mental picture
of Binnie lying in the road - dead. Why I did not say anything to anyone about it, I don't
know. When we returned home later that evening, there he lay - just as I had pictured.

World news was beginning to be a major influence upon our lives. We heard words
and names, like Nazi, Jews, Erhart, Lenin, "reds" and other others. One event that shook everyone
was the plane crash of Wiley Post and Will Rogers. Newspapers and radios were our chief
sources of information. News did not travel very fast for we did not have electricity at the
farm.

I was also becoming much more conscious of people around me and how they
impacted upon me. For example: Harold Law - who was a "stunt" piano player; Florence
Dunlap in whose home I was welcome - especially after school; Joan Hite, who introduced
me to chunky sweet chocolates; the Daggers, who shared their home and ice cream business
with us; the Kovregs, who owned the peat bogs near us; and Jim Wharthen whose woods and
sheep were next door. It amazes me now how we take these acquaintances for granted and
never really realize the far-reaching effect each has had.

Because of the snow at the present time - near blizzard conditions, I am reminded of
other winters when such conditions caused serious problems.


-32-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (27)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (27)

Description

Corresponds to page 23 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


When brother Jim had a huge paper route in Westerville, it was decided I could take
twenty customers in the northend. I was nine years old and considered reliable. For several
weeks all went well until winter set in with snow, ice, and bitter cold - 1929-30. The papers
always seemed heavier as climatic conditions worsened. One bitter cold day a customer
invited me inside to warm myself. It was so comfortable I overstayed and by the time I
delivered all the papers, it was nearly dark. When I walked in, Mother and other family
members gave me a verbal lashing which I never forgot. I must have frightened all of them
very badly.

We were living on the farm near Utica when the next snowy episode took place. It
was Christmas time and all the family had gathered. Just about the time we sat down to dinner,
it began to snow. Since snow was not unusual that year, no one was concerned, Christmas
presents, game playing, and eating kept everyone bust. One of the boys went outside. When
he came in, everyone listened. Drifting now was everywhere. No one had been down the road.
It would soon be dark. A couple of the men took a car to break a path. They were soon stuck.
In order to get out they formed a caravan and took shovels, blanket, matches, flashlights, and
other emergency items. They were able to get to the main roads in about four hours.

Meanwhile back at the house, we had to feed the animals, secure wood for fires, and
keep water pumps from freezing. It snowed for nearly three days. No one came down our
road because not too far from our house a tree had fallen across the road and no one had had
a chance to remove it. After a week the county cleared the road. We had used about all the
food in the house. The wood pile was very low. No one could have been happier than we were
when Dad and Jim drove into our yard.

Another time in Centerburg, there was a terrible ice storm. It had been raining very
hard - everything was wet. The temperature dropped dramatically and everything froze. It was
beautiful to see but dangerous for the wind rose and started whipping frozen limbs, bushes,
wires, and loose items all over.

Nearly always there is something funny one remembers. This icy incident occurred to
a neighbor. He was known to drink too much; and so on an icy sidewalk, he tried to walk
home. He was carrying a paper bucket with oysters in it. He slipped, dropped the bucket, and
oysters went everywhere. Imagine a drunk trying to pick oysters off the ice covered
sidewalk. Needless to say, our sides hurt from laughter, poor man!

Late Sunday afternoons in the summer time was the right time for our family to gather
to make ice cream. Since our farm had not yet been wired for electricity, we had to crank our
maker by hand. I always thought Mother asked for work because she used a recipe which
required cooking. Any cook knows how difficult it is to cook eggs, cream and milk without
scorching it! Mother never scorched her pudding! It was always perfect. That's why my
brothers never minded cranking the machine. Another thing that puzzled me was chopping
the ice and packing it around the metal container. They always used ice cream salt to help
the freezing. This blew my mind for all winter I was spreading salt on the icy sidewalks to
melt the culprit! Just goes to show you why I took a strange look at ice cream making!

At the same time I was a friend of the Daggers who owned and operated the Velvet
Ice Cream Co. Years later when someone mentioned making ice cream, I reached for a recipe
which did not require cooking. I found it and many years it took the hard work out of the
cooking but I have never yet figured out the ice cream salt bit.

P.S. If you'd like my recipe, I'll share it.


-23-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (28)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (28)

Description

Corresponds to page 24 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Ice Cream

4 eggs
1 qt. cream
2 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 tbsp. vanilla
1 1/2 qt.
1/2 tsp. salt

Beat the eggs well until ight and fluffy. Add sugar gradually - about a quarter of a cup at
a time, and beat well after each addition. As it becomes so stiff it is hard to beat you may
add a little of the milk to make the beating easier. Add remaining ingredients, mix well
and pour into freezer. If freezer is not 2/3 full, add more milk to make it so.

If you add fresh fruit, omit vanilla. Unless fruit is well sweetened it will freeze harder
than the cream.


My sister, Julia, and my brother, Jim, were also friends of the Daggers. So it was no
mystery when they invited us to help dip ice cream suckers. What fun we had - dipping and
licking warm chocolate and ice cream.

It is difficult for me to separate Centerburg and Utica experiences for one (Utica)
simply interrupted my school life two years - the eighth and ninth grades.

Winning letters for participation in sports was a goal nearly every student had. I was
no different. So in my freshman year at Utica, I tried out for the girls' baseball team. Miss
Mouser and Mr. Pierpoint coached. I decided to try for the catcher's position. To my great
surprise I qualified. I beat out the senior who held the spot! We played all the surrounding
schools in Licking County. When we played Granville, I played so hard I became overheated.
I remember Miss Mouser took me to her home there and cooled me down. I don't remember
how many games we won or lost but I remember the thrill of receiving my letter at our spring
assembly.

The last three years of high school were filled to the brim with activity. I had taken
the college course curriculum so all my classes demanded study. Physics, Algebra I, II, and
III along with Latin II and all the English-based classes one could take. When I wasn't in class
or practicing the piano, I was playing piano for choir, orchestra, and church. I was also a
cheerleader so I never missed a game! Roller skating rinks and movie houses filled our fun
nights out.

It was a real treat to go to The Ole Mill in Utica and roller skate on the second floor.
Cool breezes blew through the windows making it a joyful occasion. If not there, I was at a
rink at Buckeye Lake. Cousins Walter and Goldie Daughtery had a summer cottage there.
I was invited to visit and allowed to skate. In the evenings they would take me to the Crystal
Ballroom where all the leading bands would play. It was thrilling to hear the music and watch
all the people dancing. Buckeye Lake was a truly fun place with other dance pavilions,
carnival booths, and rides. You could skate all afternoon for a quarter.


-24-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (29)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (29)

Description

Corresponds to page 25 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

BACCALAUREATE
CENTERBURG HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM
SUNDAY, MAY 21, 1939

Processional.....Gertrude Shipley

Invocation.....Rev. Switor, Pastor of Christian Church

Piano Solo.....Morning Mood....Jeannette Goff....Grieg

Sermon.....Rev. Chapin, Pastor Disciple Church

Praise Be To Thee.....Palestrina
Come Holy Spirit.....Bach
Chapel Choir

Benediction.....Rev. Switor

Recessional.
Audience please remain seated while class marches from Auditorium.


COMMENCEMENT
CENTERBURG HIGH SCHOOL BAND
MONDAY, MAY 22, 1939

Melody.....Huff, High School Concert Band

Invocation.....Rev. Suitor, Pastor of Methodist Church

Vocal Solo.....Friend.....Richard Doyle.....Davies

Salutatory.....Health and Happiness Not Wealth and Power.....Richard McKinney

Baritone Solo.....Carnival of Venice.....David Suitor.....Staigers

Valedictory.....The Rising Waves.....Jeannette Goff

Address.....Dick Smith, Ass't Director of Education

Presentation of Class.....Supt. A.R. Liggett

Presentation of Diplomas.....L.C. Dove, Pres. of Board of Education

Dauntless Overture.....High School Band.....Holmes

Benediction.....Rev. Suitor



-25-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (30)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (30)

Description

Corresponds to page 26 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


I gave the following Valedictory address May 22, 1939.

The Rising Waves

The mighty ocean rolls; its waves rise to various heights. Far out on the horizon a
ship is seen. It is laboring hard against the mighty waves which bear down upon it - almost
crushing it beneath their weight. This is the ship of life- such as the ships of which we the
graduating class if 1939 - are about to become the commanding captains.

Our first voyages have been carefully guided by the capable hands of our parents
and teachers. The troubling waves of our childhood and adolescence seldom interfered with
our progress before some help was given us. Now, however, our hands are on the wheel.
Now we have been launched, where will we anchor? Our crafts are floundering. Will the
impending waves of unemployment, the evils of capitalism, organized labor, and the
corruption in politics over whelm us? Of course, these waves are not always dangerous, but
in times like these they are trying to sink us. In dealing with these impediments we must be
most efficient and discreet in our speech and actions. Such waves are not avoided by a
panic, or depression, but are overcome by courage, persistence, and common sense. Since
we have learned that life does not move forward steadily and continuously like a river but
in a series of waves or surges, like the waters of the sea, we have come to realize our ships
must be made of strong, durable structure - such as the metal our lessons afforded us and
riveted together by unyielding ties of friendship and courtesy.

A few years ago, we became suddenly aware of small ripples stirring in a stream.
They became restless and began growing moving faster, and rushing out into the large
water. Here they met with other ripples and were swept away by a surprising quickness.
These small waves were our careers. Tonight they are no longer small. They have risen to
a critical height and we are to steer into a channel where this wave will not bring us disaster
but carry us upon its crest.

After our first wave is conquered, we shall realize that it has fixed in us a
determination, a certain steadfastness that cannot be shaken even though the waters be
rough and threatening. Our minds are cultured and broad; our hands are capable and
strong; and our ships have been reinforced. Thus we are ready and waiting to solve our
problems.

This surge of unemployment, which is now wrapping the world in strife, can be
remarkably changed if only we remember that the guidance of a human hand can not alone
smooth the contemptuous swirl, but that the spiritual element is necessary to help solve this
immense problem. So it is with all the menaces to democracy. It is fitting that we should
pause here and offer our thanks that we are going out into a nation where we have freedom
of religion, speech, and press. Here we are not dominated by a powerful captain who knows
not the principles of humanity and where justice is the only verdict of crime. Since we are
blest by this privilege, it is our duty that we steer cautiously so that the fierce winds and
raging waves cannot turn our course.

This year our class chose the motto: "Love and happiness not wealth and power."
It is especially necessary that we are happy. How high we may ride on the waves of life of
what material elements we leave behind us matters little, but it matters a great deal if we are
happy. Some people are like pools and rivers - flowing to the sea. We are like rivers - we
must flow on. We cannot be caught in a pool. We would be bound and angry and overflow


-26-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (31)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (31)

Description

Corresponds to page 27 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


at last in all sorts of wildness and misery. We must keep the channels clear so that nothing
may mar our happiness.

Classmates: Tonight we are parting at the rivers fork; we are each going a different
way, but no matter what course we may choose to follow we can not escape the joys and the
sorrows of life. It is now our duty to take up life as adults and make of it as God wills us.
Our education has taught the experience of others and now we must use this knowledge in
making our way.

A fitting close is this stanza from Long fellow's "The Building of a Ship"

"Like unto ships far off at sea
Outward or homeward are we
Before, behind and all around,
Floats and swing the horizon bound,
Seems at its distant rim the rise
And climb the crystal wall of the skies
And then again to turn and sink
As if we could slide from its outer brim.
Ah! It is not the sea
It is not the sea that sinks and rises
But ourselves
That rock and rise
With endless and uneasy motion
Not touching the very skies
Not sinking into the depths of ocean
Ah! If our souls but poise or swing
Like a compass in its brazen ring
Ever level and ever true
It is toil and to the task we have to do.
We shall sail securely and safely reach
The Fortune Isles on whose shining beach
The sights we see and the sound we hear
Will be those of joy and not of fear!"

High school at Centerburg was terrific as I look back upon it now. I was encouraged
to do the best I could in everything I undertook. As a result I graduated highest in my class.
My parents provided as many outside interests as possible. Trips to Chicago were especially
memorable.

My brother, Walt, was attending college in Chicago. Pat, his wife, was a teacher at
a private boys' school. Both were house parents of a fraternity house. Mother and I visited
when vacation time for the fraternity boys came. Soldiers' Field, Rosenthal Museum, the Art
Gallery, Navy Pier, and Marshall Fields became household names. I remember seeing inlaid
coffee spoons and four hundred dollar dresses at Marshall Fields. In between sight-seeing
trips, I read the novel of the time, Gone with the Wind.

On a New Year's Eve, Mother, Dad, and I visited Walt and Pat at an apartment to
which they had moved. We went into the Loop for the celebration. The Big Apple was the
dance of the day. Every other group would be doing it. The crowds were next to riotous.


-27-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (32)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (32)

Description

Corresponds to page 28 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

They rocked streetcars nearly overturning them. They did snake dances - pushing and shoving
their way along. Merchants had closed the heavy iron guards to protect their huge display
windows from flying debris. it was both exhilarating and scary for me, but a great experience.

Pittsburgh was another city Mother liked to visit. Uncle Oddie and Aunt Winnie lived
in Carnegie; so off we went to visit them. The train trip was often a "sootie" affair, but it
never daunted a shopping trip to Gimbel's. Aunt Winnie always brought me a chocolate malt
as we finished our day.

Julia and I visited them also as our cousins, Charles, Frances, and Danny were fun to
be with. Charles and Frances would take us to parties with them. One party was at Josephine
Joseph's house. The Josephs were Filipinos. They were friendly, happy people who welcomed
us with open arms. Numerous friends of both our cousins and the Josephs were there. We
danced, ate, and sang well into the wee hours.

On our way home on the train one of the group we had met at the Josephs was the
head waiter in the dining car. He invited us to eat. What fun! I shall never forget the soft tone
of the gong as he announced lunch in the dining car.


Music

Music has always been a gratifying , yet frustrating, part of my life. The trouble, I
believe now, was my goal. To become an artist was a very high reach, and I never quite made
it. The training I had early on was valuable but I really never developed the discipline to help
me become an artist. I did not practice as religiously as I needed, and I do not believe I had
the innate talent needed. My ear was not developed, and I did not have perfect pitch. Yet, I
did manage to achieve a degree of skill above many other voice and piano students. It was
never enough to gain artist status. It was enough to permit a great deal of pleasure. I did a
few memorable public appearances.

During my senior year in high school, the music director, Mr. Henry Sommers
entered me into the piano solo competition as well as David Suiter on baritone, the
Centerburg choir in choral competition, and a trio - Jean McCalla, Gertrude Shipley and Betty
Strawser. At that time I was the accompanist for all of it. The district competition was held
at Dennison University. The schedule for the performance was hectic and dashing from
building to building was rigorous. Realizing the stress it created on the performers, and
especially on me, Mr. Sommers picked me up and and carried me up and down stairways. It paid
off for all us of us for we came away with high standings. My rating sent me to Oberlin for state
competition.

Mother was very proud of this accomplishment and did everything she could to make
the performance top-notch. The competition for the contest was Rachmaninoff's "Prelude in
C# Minor". The setting was Moscow, Russia, and so Mother made me a black full skirt, a
high-necked blouse with full sleeves embroidered with colorful floral scenes on them and a
black, shoe-laced bodice. Toeless black patent leather high-heeled shoes which laced up the
front similar to the bodice completed the outfit. I remember how very elegant and comfortable
the outfit was to wear.

When we - Mother, my brother Ike, and I - arrived at the college, I remember the
concert piano upon which I was to play. It was huge I had never seen one quite like it. I do
not remember the number of contestants, but I was number three at the end of it all. Teachers
and friends said it was a good showing, but I was not number one; and I was a bit let down.

Nevertheless, I had many invitations to perform in Westerville, Sunbury, and


-28-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (33)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (33)

Description

Corresponds to page 29 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Centerburg. The Ted Mack Show in Chicago was popular then, and my brother, Ike, entered
me as a contestant. What an experience! Dad secured a pass for me so Mother and I took the
train to the "windy" city. The radio station was on the nineteenth floor of the Merchandise
Mart, located downtown on the river. Naturally, i was a bit nervous but managed to play
well. Again, I was not to be the winner! A 75 year old lady who sang "Shout down My
Rainbarrel" walked off with the prize. Nevertheless, I had appeared on a national radio hook-
up and that was rewarding. Out of it came a correspondence with Jack Bishop, a young man
from Troy, Ohio, for 2 or 3 years. We never met, and I have often wondered what happened
to him.

When I graduated from high school, I was given a scholarship for music by Capital;
University. Unfortunately, my family was not in a financial situation to accept this offer. Uncle
Charlie Geiselman had passed away just before my graduation and that had ended my chances
of going to Cincinnati Conservatory of Music. He had left me enough money to attend Ohio
State for one year, but court settlement did not come until a year later. My music career was
stalled and never resumed the momentum it had had.

Yet, teaching was an outlet for participation in musical activities. I found church also
was a avenue of musical enjoyment. I sang in the church choir and led the youth choir for
a time. I later became the church organist. Two outstanding programs I remember with
emotion were: a memorial for John F Kennedy when he was assassinated; and, one Easter
service when Ed Hoke lead the choir in the Hallelujah Chorus.

At one time we had a Community Choir, and I played for a cantata presented by it.
It was led by the pastor's wife, Mrs. Bell, who had her lovely grand piano moved to the high
school auditorium for the performance. It was an outstanding concert for a group of volunteer church choir members.

The only other public appearances included accompanying the minstrel shows the local
Lion's Club produced. When I did not accompany, Louise Breece did, and then I would sing
to Harold who was an end man. I sang "I Wed Three Hundred Pounds" - which, of course,
was the truth. It proved to go over very well. The second night of the performance, the men
wired Harold's chair, but I did not know. I was supposed to sit on his lap, but he wouldn't
permit it. What a disappointment to the other guys, but he and I were saved from the "shock"
of our lives.

Sometimes now I play for club groups; but, again, I do not practice and I won't play
without it. I sometimes enjoy just "playing around" for my own amusement.


Freshman Year in the Dorm

When Uncle Charlie Geiselman died in the spring before I graduated from high school
in May, I knew my dream of attending a conservatory of music was gone. Reality set in when
I learned the amount he had left me in his will would scarcely pay for my first year in Ohio
State University. I had to forego the scholarship from Capital University also. There just
wasn't enough money. It was equally demoralizing to find the courts took a year to settle
Uncle Charlie's estate, and so I could not enter any college until September, 1940.

Needless to say that year was difficult for me. Miss Hanawalt tried her best to keep
my interest in piano work as high as possible. I even took up violin lessons - disaster,
however, for my left handedness put a tremendous block in my way.

I tried working during that year. Ma and Pa Wilson had a restaurant in Centerburg so


-29-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (34)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (34)

Description

Corresponds to page 30 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

I asked for a job. I reported one week but my father said he would not permit me to become
a waitress.

Next, Dr. Bender hired me as a dental assistant. That was a real learning experience
in many ways. First, I learned to ride at 100 miles an hour in his Cadillac as we flew to Mt.
Vernon to his office. He used gas to put people to sleep while he removed their teeth, I was
petrified one day when he nearly lost one man. He sent me scurrying for hot tea at the bar
downstairs under the office. Fortunately, the man recovered and the tea did help. Doc also
liked the Elks Club and delighted in taking me there to eat while he imbibed. I truly learned
much from those episodes, too.

Socially I dated a number of local guys, but I wasn't ready for a lasting commitment
to any of them. They were leaving daily for the armed forces so I promised to write - and I
did.

Finally, September came and off to Columbus I went, My assigned roommate had not
arrived so I checked with another Centerburg girl, Jean Long, who had no roommate yet. A
very unusual thing happened. The head lady of the dorms, Mrs. Emma Prout, turned out to
be a girlfriend of my mother's when they both lived in Dresden, Ohio. The two were very
excited in meeting each other after so many years. Of course, it made Jean's and my problem
easily solved. Jean and I had a lovely room in Oxley Hall and settled into our new
surroundings quickly and easily. Mother was relieved to know I would be well supervised,
and Father thoroughly enjoyed the all-girl dorm setting.

My freshman year was filled with activities I shall never for get! There were dinner
exchanges with men's dorms - the Stadium Club for example. Three of us triple dated fellows
from there. We attended basketball games held at the Fairgrounds Coliseum for there was not
St. John's Arena then. Saturday evenings were spent at the Ratskellar, or, if money permitted
at the Catacombs downtown Columbus. Sunday evening found us at the Purple Cow, a
popular hamburger restaurant also downtown. We rode the streetcar from 11th and Neil.

Because I was a music student, I was required to attend concerts at Memorial Hall on
Broad Street (now COSI). what wonderful performances - Rachmaninoff, Stern, various
symphonies, Iturbi and his sister, the Russian Cossacks and many others.

The dances on campus were thrilling, too, especially the Military Ball in the spring,
R.O.T.C. put it on and the highest officers in Ohio were present as was the Governor of the
State. Count Bassie and other great dance orchestra leaders played for the events.

The OSU Marching Band held wonderful dances, too, and I was fortunate to be asked
to these also. Fort Hayes Hotel was a favorite place for these. My partner and I cleared the
dance floor doing the waltz!

Studying at the libraries was necessary at any hour, so we also had library dates
especially at night so we never walked back to the dorms alone. It paid off though for all of
us made the dean's list.

Unfortunately for me my father became extremely ill and after thirty-four years he had
to retire. My dorm life ended when school was out that spring.


The War Years and Dad's Illness

Life for most Americans was changed and/or was greatly influenced by the events
taking place in Europe. Hitler unleashed his fury in 1939, and the atrocities grew more
threatening every day. Although the United States tried to stay out of the conflict, the so-
called "surprise" attack on Pearl Harbor by Japan opened the doors to all out world war.


-30-


Doors to the Corridors of Memories (35)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (35)

Description

Corresponds to page 31 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Julia and Kendall were the first of our immediate family to be directly affected. Ken
had been commissioned a second lieutenant because of his R. O. T. C. training at Ohio State
University. He was called up prior to the attack and when war was declared it was only a few
months until he was sent overseas. Their daughter, Karen was only three months old when
he left from Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania. Julia, Karen, and I were there. It was a heart-
breaking scene when we parted. It proved to be a a very difficult separation. To ease our pain,
Julia and I went shopping before heading home. I will never forget the beautiful clothes we
found. she found a gorgeous black velvet dress trimmed in white lace. Then we visited the
village of Hersey, PA. It was so clean and attractive it left a better 'taste in our mouth' than
Indiantown Gap.

On the way home, Julia let me drive for a ways, I had never driven before and did not
learn to do so until after I was married. I guess I really scared myself so badly I had no desire
to drive for years.

It was not long before Jim decided he would join the Navy. Off he went to the
Great Lakes Naval Station in Chicago. This was difficult for Mother for Dad's health had truly
deteriorated. He had become dependent upon Mother. The other family members helped
whenever possible. It was necessary to prepare food to be be pumped into Dad's stomach. His
esophagus had closed at the top of his stomach. Often I accompanied Dad to white Cross and
University Hospitals for his so-called treatments. The last treatment, before an operation, was
so severe that his hair turned gray. In later months some color returned.

Since Pat, Walt's wife, inherited her mother's house on East Cherry Street, she needed
someone to live in it who would take care of it. Pat and Walt now lived in Dunbar, West
Virginia, where he had his doctor's office and large practice. Mother agreed to move from
Centerburg to Sunbury, Bob, Harry, and Walt arranged the move.

When Julia and I returned home from Pennsylvania, Mother had moved. It was quite
a shock for we had not been informed. Nothing seemed to daunt us too much during those
years so this was just another incident to be experienced. Julia delivered me to Sunbury, and
she went to Centerburg to Kendell's parents.

The Sophomore Year at OSU

Julia was determined that I not interrupt college. She decided to take an apartment
on summit Street so I would have a place to live. The tree of us - Julia, Baby Karen, and I -
had truly "rough" experience there.

1942-43 was a cold, difficult year with was regulations enforced to the hilt. "Black
outs" were practiced with wardens checking every house and apartment for black curtains,
lights out, and barring smoking anywhere outdoors.

On memorable experience concerned scarce food items. A lack of meat, cigarettes,
and women's hosiery cause long line to form quickly out side any store advertising an
available shipment. Meatless dinners were common: so one day I stood in line to get a pound
of hamburger. When Julia tried to cook it, she could not get it right. We discovered when we
bit into a patty, it was red inside and tough to chew. We discovered - after showing and
discussing it with friends - I had purchased horse meat.

I had an 8:00 A.M. class at University Hall. the walk from 13th and Summit was
challenging, but I don't recall ever missing a class regardless of rain, sleet, or snow. I never
cut a class until many year later under other circumstances.


-31-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (36)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (36)

Description

Corresponds to page 32 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


At Harry and Marg's House

The apartment on summit Street proved very difficult for Julia. When Harry and Marg
dropped in for a visit and found Julia and Karen ill, they suggested we moved in with them on
Logan Avenue in Westerville. The move was made relatively easily, but it complicated my
situation. I needed transportation. Money was scarce, and my future looked bleak. But, one
must always keep the faith that all will work out: and it did.

Harry paid my tuition (around fifty dollars); I lived with Harry, Marg, Julia and Karen
so I had shelter and food. Either Julia or Harry gave me $2.00 a week for transportation and
lunch. I cannot remember who financed books and extra bus transportation, but I am certain
Harry, Julia, and possibly Mom, did not let me miss anything.

Several people from Westerville commuted to Ohio State University, and I was
fortunate to get a ride with Hoffs, Helen and her brother, Betty Snyder and Carl Fitsche, and
the charge was only $1.00 per week. I usually skipped lunch especially since I had met Jay
McKinley, a former schoolmate in elementary school. He was employed by the Pennsylvania
Railroad and made good money. He loved to dance, and we did not miss many dances either
on campus or in Westerville and Columbus. Also, because he worked from the Columbus
terminal and his hours were night runs, he would meet me after early morning classes and
have brunch.

December 7, 1941, I was singing in the annual concert, "The Messiah" given by the
music department. Members of my family and Jay attended. The first half of the concert
lacked spirit and had errors in performance. Mr. Dereck was really disgusted with us. After
intermission Dereck came back to the podium and one could sense a change in his demeanor.
It was "catching"! We all responded and during the Hallelujah Chorus, there were few dry
eyes. Tears were streaming down my face, and I know I sang like never before. When we
were able to sit down, he told us what had happened. Pearl Harbor had been attacked.
Disbelief, shock, and near panic gripped everyone. The huge crowd that had filled the
gymnasium silently file out. Needless to say, it changed nearly everyone's life.

In February of "42 Jay and I became engaged. We picked out our rings at Argo and
Lehne's in downtown Columbus. He knew he would be joining the Navy and leaving soon for
Connecticut. It all happened so fast in the following months that I do not recall when the
"Dear Jane" letter came and suddenly Jay was married to some woman he had met in
Connecticut. (Incidentally, this was the first in five marriages during his lifetime.) I have never
seen Jay again, and I never gave his ring back. Mary had the diamonds reset along with her
great-grandmother's diamonds. She still has it.

During '42 and '43, I continued to stay with Harry and Marg and attend Ohio State.
Naturally, I met many soldiers as most of the girls at OSU volunteered at Fort Hayes for
various reasons, and I did too. Frank Travella and I became good friends. Julia liked him and
gave a party at Harry's for him and several friends. It was a nice affair.

By this time my education had progressed to a point where university people felt I
could go out to teach. Teachers were badly needed by now since the war had taken great
numbers of them. I was invited to meet with the Waldo School board members to interview
for an English teacher position. Whether they liked me or were desperate for a teacher, I
really don't know but they hired. cheaply - $900.00 for the year. This proved good and
bad news. I still needed to finish my degree and I had to find some place to stay as I had no
transportation.


Julia took me to Waldo to look for a place to stay. We went from one lead to another


-32-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (37)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (37)

Description

Corresponds to page 33 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

and no luck. Finally, Julia needed gasoline and she stopped at a station. Then the car wouldn't
start. Raymond Burnoskey came out of the garage to check it out. We told him of our plight.
He not only fixed the car, he told us to go see his wife, Helen. They had an extra room and
maybe she would rent it. The renting of the room and breakfast cost me $4.00. a week. Thus
began a long and wonderful friendship. They became Mary's godparents.

Here was where my psychic experience kicked in again. One night I suddenly awoke
and it was if someone was reading my fortune. The voice said "You will meet the person you
will marry here." I went back to sleep but upon awakening, I remembered the incident. It
wasn't long after that I met Harold.

I was busy trying to stage the junior class play, Jay Klingel was the leading man so
naturally we were working very hard together. One night after a difficult time, he asked me
if I was having any fun, any social life, and I said no, I had no time for it since school started.
He replied he was going to introduce me to his cousin who he was certain would add some
fun to my life.

Before the next rehearsal, there was Jay and his cousin sitting in the neatest black
coupe in town.


Meeting Harold

After introductions Jay discreetly left and Harold ask f he could take me home after
play practice. When it was over, there he was. I must say we took the the "long way" home. I was
introduced to Marion, Ohio, with its many industries and railroad tracks!

Little things, events, and situations sometimes catapult to big one. For example, Miss
Hamilton, a home economics teacher, and I ate evening meals with Harold's Aunt Ruth - Jay's
mother. One evening after dinner when Louie, Jay's brother on leave from the Army, was
there, Harold came in on the pretense of seeing Louie. Miss Hamilton was about to leave
saying she had to wash her hair. Aunt Ruth suggested she wash it in her kitchen for she had
rain water to rinse it. Miss Hamilton agreed and Harold offered to help by handling the bucket
of rain water for her Wow! Was I furious! Why, I did not realize until afterwards - I was
really jealous.

My psychic kicked in again. Teachers worked at ball games. It was a Friday night
game at Waldo and I was ticket seller. The game had begun. all was quiet at the counter. I
heard a noise and looked up to see this big good looking, neatly dressed guy coming up the
stairs. My heart did a couple flip-flops as I realized it was "Tiny" as he was called by the guys.
It wasn't too long after that we made a trip to Centerburg to the jewelers. On February 29,
1944, we became engaged. I refused an engagement ring - I still had one and didn't want it
either. Mother wore it until she died; then, Mary received it.

In March of '44 one of the worst snows of the winter hit. Schools were closed and
nearly every movement was shut down - not Harold! He was at his grandmother's house
where I was now staying because Burnoskey's needed the bedroom for her mother. What
plans did I have for the day Harold asked. I had planned to go to OSU in Columbus to sign
up for my spring and summer classes. I wanted to finish my degree. But I was stranded - no
bus service today. Needless to say, Harold fixed that. Off we went through drift after drift and
arrived at OSU where I successfully signed up.

Out of the $900.00 salary I had saved enough money to pay for my tuition, books and
necessary item. I told Harold there was not money for a big wedding. Again, Harold came


-33-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (38)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (38)

Description

Corresponds to page 34 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


to the rescue. He said, "Spend your money on the wedding. I'll pay all the college expenses."
I did and he did, and for more rewarding results, neither could ask.


The Wedding

What is so rare as a day in June? June 4, 1944 was a rare day for me. Harold and I had
chosen that day, Sunday, for our wedding to occur. I awoke when my sister Julia came into
the room - I was living with Mother on East Cherry Street. Everyone thought it was time to
get the events of the day started. There was a tinge of excitement in the air. Mother and Julia
had planned the events: and as usual, they were happening much as planned.

There was one near disaster. When the cake was delivered, the top layer had slide off
and down the side of the next layer. (it was very warm that day and a caterer had used the
trunk of his car as a delivery unit.) Mom and Julia put their talents to work and quickly
replaced and redecorated the smeared parts. The driver was indeed grateful. He said all the
way he had listened for the bell tinkling on the top layer - all had been well until just before
he hit Sunbury limits.

As time approached the wedding party started to arrive. All the guys went next door
(the east side double) where Mildred Garlinghouse was living and had graciously offered to
host them.

Since nearly all the attendants were relatives, the gals were already at Mom's.
Margaret Warner and her sister, Garnet Edwards operated a hair salon right next to Root's
Department Store. For six weeks before the wedding I had had appointments to do my hair,
have facials, and have my nails fixed. On the day of the wedding, Garnet came and did all the
ladies hair.


photo - left to right: Gablers (neighbors) My dad and mother, Jeannette, Harold, Harold's mother and father, Grandmother Klinger


-34-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (39)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (39)

Description

Corresponds to page 35 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


My mother had made all the dresses - my gown, the three bridesmaids, and the
little girls, Patty and Karen. There were 36 covered buttons down the back of
each gown. What a sight it was to see the bridesmaids lined up behind each other
buttoning the dresses.

The flowers arrived from Snyders in Centerburg. It was war time, and we
tried not to overdo because of it. When ordering the flowers, I had expressed a
desire for orchids: but I agreed that was to much under the circumstances. How
excited I was when my bouquet- made of white roses and white gardenias - was
centered with the most beautiful white orchid I had ever seen. It was gift from
the florist, and it was removable so I could wear it on my going-away outfit.

When Harold's parents arrived, I was just coming down the stairway, ready
to go to the church. When they saw me, they started to cry. I could not imagine
why. Nor, could Harold; but we both were moved by their tears throughout the
wedding ceremony.


photo of Jeannette and Harold leaving the church Julia Hewett and Harry Copeland
Vonda Curren and J. C. Klinger


photo of Mrs. Robert Goff, Miss Vonda Curren, Mrs Kendall Hewett, Jeanette and Harold,
Mr. Harry Copeland, Jr., J. C. Klinger, Mr. Robert Goff


-35-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (40)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (40)

Description

Corresponds to page 36 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

A funny thing happened on the way to the church. From the double, the parsonage and
then the church proved to be such a short distance that we all chose to walk. When I went out
the front door, I looked up and all my neighbors' porches were filled with people! Until than,
I was not aware that Sunbury people were interested for I really had not been home very
much with college and teaching keeping me busy. Mary Morris told me she remembers it!

Harold had said when I turned the corner of the aisle to proceed to the altar, he would
wink at me. He did! I caught my breath and could not release the catch. My brother Walt, the
doctor had taken my father's place as Dad was too ill to participate. He whispered - loud
enough for everyone to hear - "For Christ's sake, breathe!" A merry titter rippled through the
church. After that, everything was happy and funny.

Mrs. Mabel Gammill - my music teacher here in Sunbury - was amused by my nervous
buns shaking up and down under my satin gown.

The music was furnished by Martha and Bob Rice. Martha taught at Waldo. Bob sang
beautifully - "Oh Promise Me", "I Love You Truly", "Why Do I Love You" and more. The
wedding marches were majestically rendered by Martha on the organ.

The reception was at the house, and Mother was in her best form hostess while Julia
really enjoyed herself circulating among the guests and making everyone comfortable. Yet,
there is always a slipup of something. This time when the cake cutting time came, no one
remembered to light the candles, And. there was a special candelabra on the buffet which a
dear missionary friend of Walt and Pat, Illa Grindell, loaned to us for this special occasion.

Changing clothes to get away was a task. Everything needed changing; matching
lingerie was a must, of course. In the process, people kept knocking on my door. I got half
the underwear on; but when my brother wanted in, I slipped the pretty blue panties under the
bed pillow for a moment while he was there. The moment grew longer, and my memory shorter. They were forgotten. I haven't lived that down yet.

Pictures took time, but time well spent as I look at them now, some fifty years later.

Member of the bridal party were: Julia Hewett, my sister, matron of honor:
bridesmaids, Vonda Opal Curren, Harold's sister, and Martha Goff, wife of my brother
Robert: Sonny Copeland, Harold's best friend, best man; ushers, J. C. Klingel, a first cousin
of Harold, and Robert, my brother. Dr. Walter B. Goff was my father's substitute and my
brother. Hostesses were Patricia Evelyn Goff, Walt's wife, and Josephine Joseph, a Filipino
friend from Pittsburgh.

Gifts for the bridesmaids were gold crosses on chains. The bride was given a pearl
necklace with earrings to match. Oberholtzer Jewelry in Centerburg engraved the rings as
well.


Honeymoon and Summer School

When we finally slipped away from the reception, we headed out old Rt. 3 and to the
church on Centerburg road. We again had our picture taken and then took off toward the
north.

Harold had not told me where we were going. Earlier he had sent his sister down to
my house with sports outfits to prepare me for outdoor activities. I took advantage of the
offer! Now, however, as we sped along I was so weary from the day's experiences, I fell
asleep.

Upon awakening I discovered we were in Adrian , Michigan, at a lovely hotel. Our
lives became as one and lasted until death did us part thirty-two years and eight months later.


-36-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (41)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (41)

Description

Corresponds to page 37 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

The next day we drove out to a resort, named appropriately Trail's End, rented a cabin
on Devil's lake and engaged in Harold's favorite past-time, fishing. For nearly seventeen
years this became our vacation goal. A trip or two a year to Curtis , Michigan, became the
habit. Often our parents, his aunts and uncles, Julia and Ken, or friends - like Bernard and
Jane Myers at Indian lake - would add to the fun and fishing.

On June 6, 1944 about five o'clock in the morning, I awoke and felt very hungry.
Harold prepared a delicious breakfast and while eating we turned on the radio. To our utter
surprise we picked up transmissions of D-Day and for several hours were practically glued
to that broadcast. Battle noises in the background, competent stern voices issuing orders,
excited journalists voicing emotional responses. Needless to say, we did not party much that
day! Our own happiness dimmed in the light of this event.

One other morning - quite early, there was a persistent knocking sound. It kept up
until I asked Harold to answer the door. He listened for a moment and then started laughing.
I was wearing my feelings on my sleeve about this time so I did not appreciate his sense of
humor that early in the morning and the loud knocking. He invited me to look out the
window. There on a telephone pole close-by was the largest woodpecker I had ever seen.
Soon, I, too was laughing. The joke was on me!

Cpl. S. T. Oswionski - Ossi and Dolores - was a soldier on his honeymoon. They had
a cottage across the street from us but they had no car. We noted that and Harold offered to
take them anywhere they needed or wanted to go. (His company, the Eastman Trucking
Company , had given him gasoline stamps for a wedding present! Who better to share them
with than a soldier!!) Needless to say we became good friends and the next few day were
great; but all things have an ending and it was time to return home. I recall stopping at book
shop and with my last dollars purchasing a book of poetry.


The Belling

It stared out to be a quiet, warm Friday evening. I had returned to Waldo from Ohio
State and Tiny had arrived home in time for the evening meal. We both had a gut feeling
something was going to happen this night. And it did! We heard the drone of motorcycles
in the distance. The sounds grew louder and soon about a dozen Harley Davidsons came into
the front yard. The Marion Motorcycle Club-- of which Tiny was a very active member --
invited us to ride with them to the clubhouse in Marion. Tiny agreed if could lead the way.
Naturally that was what they wanted; but what they got was a surprise. They had tied tin
cans on the back of our bike. While they rattled and clanged as we rode, they also stirred up
a terrible dust on the roads Tiny chose to take.

When we arrived at the club house, most of them were covered with dust and some
hacking and sneezing! Some were a bit out-of-sorts. Once we entered the clubhouse, the
mood changed. The girls had prepared a real party atmosphere with all the trimming. They
presented us with a beautiful blue satin blanket. We spent the better part of the evening there.

The gang escorted us back to Waldo on paved roads.

In the meantime, word had spread throughout Waldo of what was happening. When
we arrived at the house, carloads of people had gathered, I was amazed. Tiny was tickled.
He and his parents brought out cans of pop, cigars, and candy bars. It was then I realized I
could not return to Waldo High to teach, for there were my students, juniors and sophomores,
lighting up cigars. I could see discipline going right out the window of every class room.

After all the goodies disappeared and the laughter and joking had subsided, the gang


-37-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (42)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (42)

Description

Corresponds to page 38 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


began to wish us much happiness and to leave. Needless to say, Tiny and I felt warmly
accepted into the community life in Waldo.

Because I was scheduled for summer school we had decided to live with Harold's
folks. That did not prove to be the best choice. First, upon our return I became ill with the flu.
Then, commuting by bus from Columbus to Marion was time consuming and emotionally
upsetting. I rented a room in Columbus and limited my trips home. We also rented an
apartment in Marion.

Thinking I should not go back to Waldo to teach, I applied for a job in Marion. Dr.
E.E. Holt who later became Ohio superintendent of schools, hired me to teach at Vernon
Junior High: social studies, English, and dramatics. While still a student, I held a full-time job.
In order to credit me with student teaching my advisor, Dr. Landsettle, came to Marion to
supervise me. Since he did not know Marion and we had no cafeteria at school, I invited him
to lunch with us at noon. Harold had been to Columbus and stopped at the market for black
bread and trail bologna. With soup and fruit, we all enjoyed lunch. Dr. Lansettle said he was
delighted as his wife would not let him bring black bread and bologna home, and he loved it.
The reader will have no trouble knowing the grade I received!!

Moving from Harold's folK's house had been a traumatic event. It was quite a while
before they came to visit. We invited them for dinner and thought we had planned a good
dinner. When they brought a casserole and several other items - just to be certain
we had enough.

We entertained a lot that year. Harold's cousin, Richard Curren was in the army. He
came home on leave so we had him and his bride, Elizabeth, over for dinner and an evening
of fun.

My brother, Jim, was given a leave from the South Pacific. Julia, Karen, and Jim came
for overnight. (Jim had flight nerves - he was a navigator on a P-B-Y and had been shot down
over Siapan.) Harold added to his problem by taking him for a ride on the Harley Davidson
motorcycle. Snow, that year, was several feet deep, so the ride turned out to be exciting to
say the least. That night none of us could sleep. We got up around four o'clock and fixed
steaks and salad. Harold started use the salt shaker which had a hole in it. Of course it
spilled and angered him. The kitchen window was up- just enough- and he threw the shaker
out the window. Since we were on the second floor, the shaker fell in the deep snow below
and I never found it until late spring.

Christmas in the apartment was memorable. Money was scarce. The trucking business
suffered from the weather conditions. So we were limited in our celebration. I wanted a tree
though so we bought that. Decorations were another thing. I decided to have one set of bulbs,
one box of ornament and cover all with angel hair - a filmy, web-like material that could be
stretched to cover the entire tree. It proved attractive and satisfying. Naturally, I wrapped one
of our wedding gift white sheets around the base. All seemed well. When I dismantled the
decoration, I tossed the white sheet in with our white clothes - T-shirts, panties, slips and the
like. The first time Harold put on fresh clothing, he started to itch. No matter how he
scratched or what powder or lotion he used, nothing helped. I experienced the same malady.
Our thoughts included school lice, bed bugs and everything except the angel hair! Angel hair
was made from the newly released product nylon. The fibers had gotten in the sheet and
when I washed it, it also got into our clothing. It took several washing to rid ourselves of
those fibers!

During this time I had been finishing my college requirements. I graduated just before


-38-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (43)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (43)

Description

Corresponds to page 39 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Christmas. the graduation was held in the old University Hall and a reception was held at the
president's home. Mom and I went to the reception but did not stay long as Harold and Jim
were waiting in the car in the cold. Harold gave me a lovely birthstone ring for graduation.

Katherine and Ernest Eastman had three children - two boys, Bruce and Dwayne and
a girl, Diane. Unfortunately Diane had been born with a physical defect which confined her
to her home. She was exceptionally brilliant as was Dwayne. Dwayne was a senior in high
school, looking forward to college and diplomatic school in Washington, D. C. He had already
developed social graces beyond his years. He was artistic and deeply moved by good music.
Opera was one of his loves. As I had always wanted to see an opera, Harold offered to buy
the tickets, the flowers, provide the hotel, and transport us to the opera in Cleveland, but he
would not attend. Carolyn Self, our landlady's granddaughter, was also an opera lover; so off
we all went to Verdi's Aida in Cleveland. It was an outstanding performance all around. We
came home thrilled and satisfied.

How very glad I have been ever since for the fates of both Carolyn and Dwayne were
devastating. A year or two later Dwayne became ill with balbar paralysis and died at
Children's Hospital within ten days. Just three later, after Carolyn had been married only
a few months, she suffered a fatal disease.

About this time the trucking business was losing money and Harold was beginning to
feel ill.

Bob, Martha, and Julia had a small restaurant in Sunbury, Ohio. Martha discovered
she was pregnant. She and Bob wanted out of the business. Julia was worried about someone
to help. Harold and I decided to buy in. After school was out in June, we moved in with my
mother and dad, and became partners in a restaurant.


The Year of the Restaurant

The winter of 1944 had been a cold snowy, difficult one for Harold and the Eastman
Trucking Company. It had set him back financially and physically.

When spring arrived, my brother Bob discovered his wife Martha was pregnant. My
sister Julia was in a panic. Bob and Julia ran a small restaurant in Sunbury. What was she to
do? There was not way she could carry on alone. Her husband, Captain Kendell Hewett, was
still overseas. She and daughter lived with Mother in the Patrick house on East Cherry
Street.

Julia decided to visit Harold and me at our apartment in Marion. She told us of her
dilemma, and we listened sympathetically. How could we help? She needed a partner to buy
out Bob's share. After deliberating at length, Harold offered to talk to Bob.

In June, after my school term, was over, Harold and I moved our few possessions to Sunbury.
You would have thought the transition was simple, but it was not. No one would rent to us.
Harold was a 4F - that meant he was physically unfit to serve in the armed forces. No one
seemed to care that he was an active Civil Defense patrolman, on call 24 hours a day, 365 days
a year. In desperation , we moved in with Mother. It wasn't long before Hosea Hopkins heard
of our problem. He appeared at the restaurant


Photo of Hopkins House


-39-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (44)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (44)

Description

Corresponds to page 40 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


one day and told us he had a large room at the Hopkins House and we were more than
welcome to rent. We would have to share a bathroom with all his other roomers; but he, in
turn, would encourage them to eat at the restaurant. It proved a convenient arrangement.

Rising at five-thirty in the morning and arriving at the restaurant at six became routine.
Coffee, donuts, toast, cereal, bacon, ham, eggs and other breakfast orders kept us busy until
ten. Then it was gear up for lunch. Some preparations has been done the evening before. One
was potato peeling.

The potatoes were kept in the basement. Every evening Harold and I would put cold
water in a ten gallon can and go to the basement to peel the "spuds". As we worked we could
feel the presence of "eyes" - not those of the potatoes, either. They were the eyes of rats. I
refused to help if something wasn't done. Harold was reared with guns. He was a crack shot,
and so, he took his pistol with us and soon the problem grew less and less threatening. In the
meantime, we had an extermination company come and take care of not only rats but
cockroaches, ants, flies and any other unwanted pests.

It was also my first serious cooking. Harold was the real cook, so through him and
various cookbooks, I learned to prepare rather tasty meals. Shepards' Pie rescued leftovers
from the many beef and pork dinners.

Rationing was imposed on all citizens during the war. Restaurants were no exceptions.
Our sugar supply was dwindling fast. Harold decided we would have to face the ration board
for additional supplies.

The next day, dressed in bib overalls and with uncombed hair, Harold appeared. He
was on his way to the ration board, and he really could not have looked more like a hayseed
if he had been born one. His plea to the board must have matched his looks for he came back
with everything we needed - sugar stamps, meat coupons, and needed canned food. From that
time on, we did not run short of anything rationed.

Nestles did not have a lunchroom at this time, so many of the workers came for lunch.
The school did not have a cafeteria either, so we had students whose desire for French fries,
hot dogs, hamburgers never ended. Luckily, Harold was one-man kitchen attendant.

Betty Walker, Mary Compton and I waited upon them as quickly as possible so no one would
be late to either place. By one o'clock all was quiet. Cleanup took another hour or two.
Around three I was free to nap or whatever for an hour.

From five o'clock to seven we served dinners. Then, cleanup of not only dishes, pots
and pans, but tables, counters and floors. By nine o'clock we could peel potatoes again.

Lots of interesting people became our customers. Among them were:
"Red" Blaine always ate eggs. It got so Betty would cackle rather than call for eggs.
Buzz Stemen frequented us and was really disgusted with his teeth - they wouldn't stay in.
Margaret Nauman loved her coffee and seldom missed coming in. When her baby was
born, all of us chipped in and bought a layette for little Charles.
The Ray Carters often ate with us.
Charles and Rheta Reese were Nestle lunch persons.
Dr. Williamson and the McDonald girl, his helper, also come to lunch.
The Rowlands and the Burnsides, tired from the store, often ate at our place.
Miss Eleanor Whitney often brought a friend and had ice cream and/or pie.
A frequent visitor was "Butch" the meat cutter for the Red and White Store.
Pie was a big item at our restaurant. Mother made them every morning. Favorites


-40-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (45)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (45)

Description

Corresponds to page 41 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

was lemon and banana cream. She made at least ten pies, and we seldom had any for
ourselves.

"Butch" always reminded me of a jolly London butler. He was great fun, encouraged
us in our efforts, and was a good friend.

The restaurant was a great experience for me. I learned to cook, greet people and
dress the show window; but what hard work it was!

There were fun times, too. One time we hosted a special party. Mr. & Mrs. Ernie
Burnsides and Bea and Charles Rowland ran the Red and White Store on the corner of
Vernon and Cherry Streets. Mrs. Burnsides' birthday was coming, and we were asked if we
would have dinner for all of them after we closed. but was a real challenge for me, but I even
baked a birthday cake! Everyone enjoyed the evening.

Another time Julia and I had a Euchre party. It started as a sisters' party. Guests
included Mary Ellen Layman and her twin, Louise Hoover Leach, Jane Myers and her sister,
Ethel Fletcher, Vera Paul and Bea Compton. We all dressed as hoboes. Later the club was
kept alive and to this day a club exists for one another euchre groups combined. Great
entertainment was and is enjoyed by Vera Paul, Jessie Sims, Betty Guidotti, Carol Cook,
Ellen Stemen, Iva Hartley, Rheta Reese, Genevieve Beaver, Grace Beaver, Betty Forman,
Evelyn Roof, Etta Main, Bebe Conant, Louise Grandiminico, Monica Kuhn, Ruthanne Fling,
Ruby Nettlehorst and JoEllen Elfrink and others.

Various events over which Harold and I had no control ended the restaurant
venture. The war ended. Kendall came home, and Julia became pregnant. We
bought her share and now owned the whole thing. My brother Walter and his wife Evelyn
owned the building. They decided to sell it to Louise Sheets who rented the other side of it.

For a while we tried to find a place to open again, but there always seemed to be a hitch
of some kind we couldn't overcome.

By April of '46 we were in need of jobs. I was offered the position of English teacher at Sunbury
High School as Mrs. Searles was pregnant. Harold became the village marshal. Needless
to say, our lives were opened to many new adventures.

The employees of the village worked together to keep the services to the citizens supplied.
Harold pitched in to relieve "Peanut" Edsel Day and Mike Owens with the water treatment
plant and the Town Hall where the fire truck and jail were housed. Hoyt Whitney was mayor
at the time. Out of this experience developed a lasting relationship with these people.


photo of Town Hall

photo of the water plant


-41-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (46)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (46)

Description

Corresponds to page 42 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


"Peanut" dated Harold's sister Vonda Curren who worked with in the restaurant.
Nothing serious developed but the four of us enjoyed fishing trips and working the "plant."

Mike Owen and his wife were kind to us also. We were entertained at their home.
We also went down to Columbus to Cooper Stadium to watch Rudy Owen try out
for professional baseball.

During that summer I found interesting employment. I often wonder if anyone
remembers the "Kiddies Pool" when the Lions Club created the Sunbury Park at the
corner of Cherry and Mornings Streets. Senator Whitney and Mr. Irwin were in need
of someone to run it. I sought the job. The reward was certainly not in the salary but
in the experience itself.

Early in the morning of the days the pool was open I would have to clean it. This
was no easy task for unthinking persons tossed all kinds of trash into this "natural
wastebasket"! The worst of the mess was broken glass! When I was satisfied the
pool was clean, I would fill it with water. Since I had only a cold water tap I had to
rely on the sun to warm the water for the afternoon fun. I had to stay at the scene to keep
neighborhood dogs from taking their baths or those ornery older kids from playing in it.

In the afternoon, six to ten "kiddies" would come to enjoy the pool. Fortunately, I don't
recall any major problems, but I also remember, the pool was filled and disbanded when
the community pool was built where the VFW now stands.

Hoyt and Laura Whitney with Jack and Brenda were members of a a trailer group.


Photo of Edsel "Peanut" Day, upper right.


Photo of Mike Owens in the middle of page.


Photo of the water tower at bottom right.


-42-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (47)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (47)

Description

Corresponds to page 43 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


When we bought a travel trailer, they invited us to join them. we spent many happy hours
in camps all over the United States and Canada with the Triangle Trailer member.


Scouting

After the restaurant experience, I was free to engage in another activity. How I
actually became involved with the "Brownies" I don't know, but I found myself a leader of
a troop. Miss Barbara Miller, a second grade teacher, was also working with the Scouts. She
and I took the Brownies overnight at Camp Ken-Jockety in Franklin County. Not long after
that I was contacted by Mrs. Clara Jackson and Mrs. Wray to help with Delaware County
Day Camp. One thing seemed to lead to another. The ladies and the other board members
asked me to take Scout training at Camp Edith Macy in the Adirondacks in New York State.
Incidentally, much later, I found out who these ladies were. Clara Jackson owned the
beautiful mansion on south Sandusky Street which the famous LeRoy Jenkins purchased and
developed into a Tabernacle. Since the board would pay for all but my way home, Mrs. Wray
said she would drive out and bring me home, I could not refuse.

When I boarded the train, there was a seat beside a very nice looking fatherly type
man, so I sat down. What a good choice! He turned out to be Mr. Myers, Mary Kay
Cochran's father. We had much to talk about, and he helped me find my ride to Camp Edith
Macy. That had been a major concern for I had never before been alone in Grand Central
Station.

The camp had sent its own small bus to pick up campers. It was a beautiful scenic trip
up the Hudson River and into the Adirondack Mountains.

The lodge was a fabulous building. The huge porch sported slab stones from the
streets of New York. The stone fireplace invited one to join the fun going on. We listened to
lectures, played games, exchanged experiences and asked questions there.

Each camper was assigned to a unit. My area was three quarters of a mile up a
mountain. There were four cots in a tent. At first, I was a bit apprehensive about my cot, for
directly above my head a big spider had decided to stay. After I mentioned it to the Naturalist,
she advised if I could tolerate it, leave it there and I would never be bitten by any bugs. How
right she was! I was even disappointed when I returned one day and the spider was gone!

The activities were many and varied. Cook-outs, one-pot meals, bean-pot meals,
pancake breakfasts and many more cooking experiences kept us busy. Hikes with purposes,
inspections, kitchen and dining room duty, flag ceremonies, (morning and evening),
demonstrations and movies, instructional or entertaining. It was all over far too soon, and all
the campers agreed it had been a marvelous training session.

Mrs. Wray, true to her word, arrived at the appointed time. She was able to see the
facility and listen to me exalt its praises all the way home. She had made a real vacation for
herself and her mother who came with her. On the way home, there were many interesting
side trips, including Franklin Roosevelt's home and burial place, various spots along the
Mohawk River, the five Finger Lakes where summer theater and Chatauqua were born. In
Erie, Pennsylvania, we stayed the night in a Bed and Breakfast Inn. My bed was so high I had
to use a step stool to get into it. Then, I sank heavenly down into the feather filled mattress.
The camp cot nights faded away.

As a recognized trained camp director, I was on call for every Girl Scout group in
Delaware County. I was in charge of the day camp and truly enjoyed it. An example of other
duties was accompanying troops on overnight trips. Laura Whitney invited me to accompany


-43-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (48)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (48)

Description

Corresponds to page 44 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


her and her troop for an overnight at Camp Ohio. Since I was teaching in Columbus and was
late getting home, I picked up my daughter and headed right to camp. It was dark. Not
knowing just where the troop was, I followed a lane until it stopped. I backed out and went
down another lane. The next day when I saw where I had been the night before, I almost had
a heart attack. If I had gone one-half a car length more, I would have gone off a cliff!
Although I had other exciting experiences, that topped them all.

I spent several years in scouting, and I have always been grateful for the training for
it was extremely helpful during my teaching career and in the many years our family enjoyed
trailer camping.

Teaching

In September of '46, I began teaching in Sunbury High School - today known as
Harrison Street Elementary School. I was the English teacher! Being a teacher in small town
at the time was a true learning experience! I was hired to replace Lola Dell Searles who
found she was pregnant. I stepped into a difficult position as she was a very popular local
teacher. I was assigned four classes of English instruction - freshman, sophomore, junior and
senior English. All required different teaching plans. Also, I became the dramatics coach,
yearbook advisor, librarian, assembly programmer, and was assigned football duty, basketball
duty, and asked to assist in various other school related activities. For all of this responsibility,
I would receive two thousand dollars over nine months. Classes ranged in numbers from
eighteen to forty-eight students. The year proved to be both hard work and fun time.

Harold and I had rented a small house on E. Sedgwick Avenue just one-half block
from the school yard. Thank heavens, the house had only one bedroom, a living-dining room,
and a small kitchen on the first floor. The bath was a shower stall and a stool in the basement.
Our furnishings were meager. Mother gave us a metal bed she had purchased from Aunt
Dorothy, and a three drawer chest which had belonged to her parents. We had a small table
and four chairs we had salvaged from the restaurant, a fold-out davenport, a wardrobe, and
a chair. We bought a refrigerator and a small cooking stove; and to top it all off I gave Harold
a console radio - record player for his birthday. With our wedding presents as added icing,
we were very comfortable.

Publishing the yearbook became the most demanding task. The seniors and I were
instructed to produce a better book than had been but no extra cost. What an order! There
always seems to be one or two students who can take "the ball and go!" Virginius Howard
did just that. He possessed a business ability, an artistic talent, and plenty of extra time. He,
the other seniors who could, and I spent unlimited hours working on The Owl.

Junior and senior class plays were traditional presentations - mainly to raise money
for the junior - senior prom in the spring. All the play practices were held after class.

In the senior play, Roger Day had the role of an old gentleman which called for a
wig for a partially bald person. The rent for the wig was $20.00 a day! When Roger put the
wig on, he looked exactly like his father! It was awesome! Marguerite Malarne's character
had to fire a gun. Tiny prepared a gun with blanks for her. The first time she fired it - it was
traumatic! It took some time to calm everyone down.

All the classes needed money so it was agreed we would have an evening of four one-
act plays. Again, all practices had to be after school.

Beside those scheduled school events, Tiny and I were asked to chaperon other
activities. Once, we went on a hayride. We greatly enjoyed the evening but when we


-44-



Doors to the Corridors of Memories (49)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (49)

Description

Corresponds to page 45 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


returned, we found our car had been put up on blocks! We walked home and retrieved the
car the next day.

The senior trip to Cleveland and Catawba Island was a highlight of the year. Helen
Griffith, the home economics teacher, and I accompanied them. An Exposition was in
progress demonstrating the latest scientific inventions. Television was everywhere! Who do
you suppose suddenly appeared on the screen? The senior boys who were wearing flashing
polka dot bow ties!! The boat ride to the island, the tour through the salt mine, and the visit
to the concessions proved educational and fun.

Miss Griffith and I also accompanied her home economics class on trip to Cincinnati
for the Ruth Lyons Show which concentrated on women and their homes. Miss Lyons was
anything but friendly when met by accident near an elevator, but the program was good.

While in Cincinnati, I contacted my high school friend, Marjorie Saunders Potter, who had
recently married and was living in Cincy.

A memorable event took place near Halloween. Tiny was town marshall. Early on
October morning, he got a call that Larry Lambert's pony was missing. Harold went to
investigate, and I went to school.

It was customary for Frank Stelzer to clean the upper floor early in the morning, so
I thought nothing of the noise coming from above. As I was preparing my lessons for the
day, Marie Shannon interrupted me. She was quite excited and asked me to come quickly
to see the horse which was upstairs. At first, I thought she was kidding but upon her
insistence and seriousness, I went upstairs. When I pushed the door open, a soft horse's nose
met me. What a sight it was! Everything was loose on the floor - the fire hose was strung all
over. The horse was upset and naturally, there was no physical control on its part.

Soon the sheriff, school officials and Tiny were on the scene. They had a terrible time
trying to get the pony (Lambert's) down the stairs. Its hooves were damp. they slipped on
the waxed concrete steps and one leg slid under the railing. The poor animal suffered.

Finally, the men were able to get the pony safely out of the school. Then, finding the
culprits was the next effort. Every ornery guy in Sunbury became a suspect. It became a "hush
- hush" deal. Later, it was rumored the superintendent's son may have been involved.


Pictured is the Class of 1947 Play Cast
Ted Gray, "Peter Norton"
Evelyn Shoaf "Aimee Lovewell"
Marguerite Mallernee "Cousin Maude"
Jo Ann Lake "Carol"
Lee Crawford, Papa Dill"
Hazel Doane "Doris Dill"
Trudy Finck "Gram"
Carol Nincebelser "Gertie Foggles"
Tom Kilbway "Dud"
Bob Metzger "Rod"
Alice Chadwityh "Amice"


-45-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (50)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (50)

Description

Corresponds to page 46 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Because the music director encountered some problems I was asked to take over the
choir and glee club. My time was so full of activity I hardly knew what day it was! By now
it was time for the junior-senior prom. The juniors decorated the gym beautifully. A banquet
was served and a program followed. I was asked to read a poem I had written about each
member of the class of '47. Fifty years later - this year - the poem was revived (A copy of it
is included here!)


To the Class of '47

Though small in number you seem to be,
You seem strong and big and mighty to me
Each one in his right has a place in the sun
Let me enumerate each -- one by one.

There's a lad that is tall, dark, handsome and gay:
He spends fifth period in study hall each day
Elected class president he stood at the wheel
And guided us safely and justly we feel.
His capabilities no one can doubt
For a look at his grades makes on shout.
He's our salutatorian and he's just swell
Yes, you've guessed it, the name is Burwell.

A lass, who is usually as busy as a bee
Who flits through the hall, serves at a tea
Reports for the newspaper, and works for doc
Is Ruth Ola Chadwick, our class' rock.
Why? 'Cause she's there to depend on for any old thing
For a program, a shoe lace, a book, and a string.

My, my I am floored! I have nothing to say --
You see, there's no word to describe Roger Day
It would take book after book and line after line,
To record all his glory on the pages of time.
He is athletic, ambitious, vivacious, capricious,
Intellectual, reactional, cultural, theatrical,
Gigantic, stupendous, colossal, and tremendous.
After all of those adjectives you should know
That Roger's row should be easy to hoe.

In our class there's a shy but sly little fellow,
who likes to wear jeans and a shirt of yellow.
He's the brainiest one of our outfit they say.
He's valedictorian -- and that "ain't hay.
He's a versatile guy and you'll have to admit
As a villain or hero in a play, he's a hit.
He's a good-looking kid and he's not a bit wild.


-46-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (51)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (51)

Description

Corresponds to page 47 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


He's Kroger's best clerk -- that's Ned Fairchild.

Van Johnson, Ty Power, Jimmy Stewart, and Gable
Have nothing on Finch who is ready, willing and able
To love all the gals, to trim all the trees,
To make all the touchdowns, to sneeze a big sneeze.
He is happy-go-lucky, light-hearted and gay.
He'll be the happiest though on graduation day.

Next let me tell you of a lad in our group
Who reminds me of a chick straight from the coop
He's a bombastic young fellow with a mind of his own
But he's shy as can be when he's locked all alone
In a room with a girl that should induce love
But all Bill Fravel can do is cry for help from above.

For a man of all trades and a master of many
We give you V Howard who pinches each penny
So he can buy flashbulbs, songs and records galore
Flashlights and generators, and heaven knows what more
Some consider him a genius -- next to Einstein,
But we kids think "Cyclops" fits him just fine.

She's tall, she's dark, she's lovely, she's grand
She's in Home Ec and the Y-Teens, and the band
She works hard on her studies: but down at grant
She flirts with male patients whom she can enchant.
This girl is a talker --yes, quite a speaker
You know that I mean none other than Meeker.

You know this girl as Middaugh, Eileen, or inky
In the play she was colored and her hair was all kinky
But ordinarily, she's just a nice little gal
A friend to everyone and to some a good pal.
Her heart throb's for a guy who lives in Grove City.
When she sees him her impulse is to sing a ditty.
Like--The Red Silk Stockings and the Green Perfume
Or Home on the Range is where I like to spoon.

Now boys, hold on to yourselves of be thrown for a loss
For the next girl is none other than our own Twila Ross.
When we think of an "it" girl we can forget Clara Bow
And think of blonde Twila as the star of our show.
Did you ever notice her third finger left hand?
Well, soon on it will be a bright golden band.


-47-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (52)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (52)

Description

Corresponds to page 48 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Bob's got her hooked and the rest of us sit and sigh
And wish health and happiness to this lucky gal and guy.

Now here is a character who is difficult to figger
In the play he portrayed a typical nigger.
In typing class, he's known as the center of attention
The gal that he's stuck on-- her name I won't mention
Lives out in Rockwood and is as cute as a bunny
Just ask Don Sharp, he knows she's a honey.

Evelyn Shoemaker has quite a habit of strutting around
She is an added attraction on a football ground.
She attended a queen and has a reputation of fame
For she had added plenty of quality to her glamorous name.
There's a word of warning I'll pass on to you
She has a temper and can paint the sky blue
So if you hear a clatter, a clash, and a bang
Get out of the road -- isn't that right Mr. Lang.

When I mention the next girl on my list
You'll know her at once for she cannot be missed
She'll live in your memory as a dark brunette beauty
Sometimes I've wondered why they don't call her cutie.
She has a feller I think his name is Dale
His charm makes her heart quake and her features pale.

A well-rounded personality is the aim of education
But this little lass says she'll be glad for vacation
Because she feels so well-rounded that her brain is a jangle
With fragments of knowledge that seem to dingle and dangle.
Iris Spencer is tired and weary with labor
This summer she is just going to be a good neighbor.

Here is a boy whose mother would be glad
If there was just a wee bit more hair that he had.
Yes, she'd give him ten dollars if his hair he'd let grow
Of course, its Hal Tippett, a guy you all know.
He's the lispingest lad that I ever did see
And his language is terrible as terrible can be
Oh what he said in the play Saturday night
Would shame the devil and put angles to flight.

Orchids we toss to this girl in our class
For she's had lots of sickness in the past
And she hasn't been able to enjoy the fun
That we've had, nor the work that we've done.


-48-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (53)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (53)

Description

Corresponds to page 49 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Sallye, we all hope you'll soon feel swell
And come back to us recovered and well.

Mary, Mary Quite contrary on what does your mind thrive
Do you know about Shakespeare, about history, about Jove
Have you learned how to cook, to sew, and to give?
If you have, Mary, in this world you will win
Health and happiness and love that is true
I hope all of this and more comes to you.

The next little girl you simply cannot omit
For in Everything she does she's quite a hit
She likes Ford v-8's and Chevrolets too
She goes for the sailors because they wear blue.
She likes to play tricks on everyone she can
Because Teny's our gal true to the Sunbury class,

Though small in number you can see
They are big and strong and very mighty
Each one in his right has a place in the sun.
And good luck to you! Good luck everyone!

Written by Mrs. J. Curren

Harold and I left the prom before midnight as the Hettingers - Dutch and Garnet - had
asked us to go to the Kentucky Horse Farms. What a trip! We drove all night; but, it was
worth it. I was so impressed with the upkeep of the farms. Everything was meticulous! One
could have eaten off the stable floors. Shiny brass rods held beautiful plaid blankets. Seeing
the famous horse, Man-O-War, was a real thrill! He had been returned to the Kentucky farm
for stud purposes. Visitors were encouraged to visit his area. Unfortunately, Dutch was
smoking a strong cigar (smoking was discouraged) and the smoke disturbed the horse.
Attendants immediately cleared the areas of all quite quickly and rather roughly!

It was shortly after these events that I realized I was pregnant! Since we had been
married over three years, this was welcomed news to the Curren family. Naturally this
changed my life entirely and that becomes another chapter in my book.

The Half Dozen

During my teaching days in Sunbury a friendship grew with five other wonderful
persons also teaching in the Sunbury Elementary School. Students who came to school in the
late forties and early fifties and were fortunate enough to have either Mrs. Betty Tippett or
Mrs. Luretta Day received the best instruction there was to be had in this area. As a student
advanced he might have had Mrs. Lucille Graumlich, Mrs. Helen Halley, or myself. To polish
it off along the way Mrs. Carolyn White Schneeberger, a religious education teacher.

I am not sure how our monthly luncheon or dinner meetings started but they did and
for many years they were a part of our social activities. We met at each others houses,


-49-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (54)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (54)

Description

Corresponds to page 50 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


enjoyed a meal -- no one else could serve so nicely --
nd then spent the time talking as no other teachers
could talk.

Betty was married to Harold Tippett, another
teacher in the system and they had three children,
Dale, Hal, and Lynn. They lived on a farm in
Berkshire. She tended to be delightfully fastidious
and it was pure pleasure to be at her home. She
remained a true friend all the days of her life.

Luretta's husband was Forest (Frosty) Day, an
auctioneer and farmer -- a gentleman farmer, one
who owned a farm but lived in town. They had two
boys, Roger and Ross. Luretta was a motherly type
and a natural born teacher. If she wasn't teaching in
the public schools, she was teaching Sunday school.

Lucille was a widow. Her husband died in a
terrible automobile crash. She was some what
reserved in her outward manner but had a wonderful sense of humor when relaxed among
friends.

Helen was the socialite. When she walked into a room, one sucked in one's breath and
then took a second look. She truly was the height of fashion. Ellis and she lived on a large
farm north of Powell on Liberty Road. They had one daughter.

Then, there was Caroline. She had been a
missionary in India during World War II. There she
met an English pilot whom she married. She
escaped the Indian area just three days before the
Japanese arrived. She was so fortunate to do so for
she was pregnant and had just learned her husband
was lost -- shot down over The Hump. She returned
to Delaware, Ohio where her parents lived, with her
only child, Peter. Carolyn became a true advocate of
God and carried the message all over the world. We
tried to schedule our gatherings between her trips.
She sent all of us postcards of exotic places.

You can see why I felt honored to be
included in this group. I was several years younger,
not yet a world traveler, and truly "Green behind the ears."


The Feasels

Among our friends were Ken and Micky Feasel. Ken was one of the Kroger gang--
Bob Perry, Marion Owen to name a couple. I had had many good times with the whole
bunch before Tiny and I ever met, but when we came back to run the restaurant and they all came back from the services we became friendly once more.


Pictured at top left are Helen Halley, Lucille Graumlick, Betty Tippett, Jeannette Curren.

Pictured at the bottom right are Jeannette Curren, Betty Tippett, Carolyn White, Helen
Halley, Luretta Day


-50-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (55)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (55)

Description

Corresponds to page 51 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


When Ken and Micky were married they made the mistake of coming to Sunbury to
visit his family. Naturally, the word spread quickly and the townspeople were anxious to bell
them.

We were at Mom's house at 23 East Cherry Street -- right beside the postoffice. Bob
and Martha lived in the other half of the house. We heard a banging on the front door. When we answered it there was an excited Ken and Micky trying to escape their pursuers. The
crowd was not too far behind! How to get them from the house was a question. Some one
thought up Bob and Mart's side. We led the couple up our stairs, out a bedroom window
onto the roof of the kitchen, across Bob and Mart's backporch roof and into their upstairs.
From there they went downstairs, out a back window, across Rev. Lasleys backyard and
arrived safe and sound in their mother's kitchen -- Hazel lived behind the church.

In the meantime the crowd had arrived at our door and demanded the honeymooners.
All of us stalled as much as possible. We did let one doubting "Thomas" come in and check
the house. Finally we convinced them we were not kidnaping anyone, and they went back to the town square.

During the years, we remained friends. When they lived in Columbus I taught school
at Oakland Park and Micky kept Mary. Kathy, their daughter, was the same age. Mary and
Kathy went to kindergarten at Oakland Park School. Ken, Micky and I enjoyed coffee
together occasionally during that year. As time went on we all drifted apart. Ken became the
bus driver for the OSU Band. At some of the away games a friend and I would sit with Ken
and enjoy the antics of the band.

After Ken retired from work, he was mowing his yard at their home on Powell Road
when he passed away. Micky later sold the place and now she lives in Florida. Whenever I
think of them I have warm feelings and am so thankful we knew each other.


1947

In the spring of 1947 I became pregnant. So many activities had taken my attention,
I had put my personal life on a back burner - so I thought! However, after over three years
of marriage, Tiny and I were delighted at the prospect of a family.

The next nine months were filled with trips to Dunbar, West Virginia, where my
brother Walter, or Tom as many called him, was a doctor and had his own private hospital;
and with sewing, knitting and crocheting getting ready for the new arrival.

Mom helped me paper and paint the bedroom and convert the west end of it into a
nursery. A crib, a bathinette, and a chest of drawers provided a convenient setting.

By the time Christmas came that year, I was quite large. Family members were
becoming concerned about my condition so when Walt and his family went back to Dunbar
after the holidays, I went with them. It proved to be an extended visit as the baby did not
arrive until February 6, 1948. And what a time it was then; Tiny was in Sunbury, and there
had been a winter's snow storm that had shut down schools and closed major roadways. He
cut a pathway to the Ohio River! He arrived before the baby was born, and all of the family
and hospital attendants were glad for the delivery was difficult. Personally, I was so out-of-it
I remember very little except that within three or four days I was able to realize that the baby
was a girl weighing over nine pounds, healthy and beautiful. We named her Mary after
Harold's grandmother, Mary Klingel, and Leona after Harold's mother.

Events were happening faster than Tiny and I could keep pace. His sister, Vonda was


-51-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (56)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (56)

Description

Corresponds to page 52 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


having a church wedding the very Sunday that we were to come home with the new baby
from West Virginia.

Because our car was not convenient to transport Marguerite, baby, Tiny and me, Julia
and Ken loaned us their car.

By this time the heavy snows had melted causing flooded areas. After several detours
and anxious moment, we finally made it safely home.

In the meantime Julian and Ken drove our car to Waldo to attend Vonda's wedding.
The car stalled on them several times on the way causing them to be late entering the church.
Just as they did enter, a photographer's bulb bulb exploded with a bang. The wedding ended right
then.

It was only a few weeks later that Tiny became desperately ill. Dr. Max Livingston
gave him a shot of penicillin big enough for a horse (Tiny weighed three hundred pounds.)
and told me if that didn't work, nothing would. He also warned that Tiny could not survive
pneumonia. The shot worked, but Tiny's health was now on a short but deteriorating route.


The Baptism

Although I do not believe either Tiny's or my families were deeply religious, still there
were religious rites in which they believed -- one was baptism of babies. Since my father was
more or less an invalid and Tiny's mother had just passed away at Christmas time in 1948, we
decided to hold the baptism for Mary at home. We asked Helen and Raymond Burnoskey --
the couple who gave me living quarters when I went to teach in Waldo, Ohio, to be Mary's
godparents. They had no children of their own so this seemed a very sensible choice. They
were delighted and proved to be wonderful friends for many years.

Mother made her christening dress from hand-me-down clothes. It was lovely old white embroidered eyelet material brightened by a pink ribbon rosette.

I entered all the details in a baby book for Mary so she knows those present, the minister
and a list of gifts.

By September of 1948, it was evident I needed to return to teaching. I obtained a
temporary certificate to teach in the elementary school. Sunbury schools needed a fifth
grade teacher. My career in education never stopped from then on until retirement.
The Sunbury schools merged with Galena and Harlem and became known as the Big Walnut
Local Schools. In my efforts to obtain a certificate to teach elementary school, I took courses
at Otterbein College, Ohio University, and Ohio State. Columbus Public Schools offered me a position in 1952, with a substantial increase in salary.

This change was probably one of the best moves I had made in a long time for it


Pictures is Mary Leona Curren in baptismal dress made by Grandmother Anna Goff.


-52-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (57)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (57)

Description

Corresponds to page 53 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


forced me to learn to drive. At the beginning of the school year, I rode back and forth to
Oakland Park School with Leona Pratt. I was spending twelve hours a day - 6:30 a.m. to 6:30
p.m. Tiny asked Dwight Black, the high school driving instructor to teach me. In one month
I took the driver's test and became independent at last! Tiny bought Bernard Searles' father's
car for me. Tiny's father went with me to take my test. I was able to spend more time at home
and accomplish more civic services.

We now lived in an apartment on the corner of Columbus Street and Rainbow
Avenues. Tiny ran Don Allen's service station across the street. Don had a trucking business
there. Helen and Don had a lovely brick house on Columbus Street directly west of the
business. Gary and Karen took piano lessons from me. We all became good friends. We spent
many happy times at the Allen's cottage on the Scioto River as well as evenings at our homes.
I still keep in contact with Helen, Karen and Gary - they are in the Toledo area.

When Don decided to sell his business, Tiny bought the corner and station. He felt we
would be able to build a new station in five years. He was right, but those five years were not
easy ones. Several events occurred which had memorable effects on us.

A fire broke out in the Tom Wright's apartment. Jane and Charles Silveous lived
directly above Tom's. Elizabeth Reynolds lived above us. The Sunbury Fire Department had
just moved into the Allen garage across the street. It was there in no time! Fortunately, the
fire was confined to the one apartment, but smoke damaged all the other apartments. What
a mess and what a job to clean it up!!

Hoyt and Laura Whitney, neighbors on Columbus Street, took Mary home with them.
Brenda and Jack were about Mary's age. This was the start of a long-time friendship for later
we became trailer camping members and shared numerous trips together.

Everyone around encouraged Paul Stelzer to stay with Lib that night to guard against
any looting. Tiny and I agreed to stay also. None of us slept much, but the excitement
subsided. Not long after the fire, Paul and Lib were married. They became owners of the
Village Restaurant and contributing members in community activities. All who knew them
were happy for them. At the time of this writing, Lib is living in Straitsville, North Carolina
where her daughter Polly and the grandchildren live.

Several people moved in and out of the apartments while we were there. Bill and
Margaret O'Brian lived there a short time. He was an artificial inseminator. When they went
on vacation, I took their phone calls. Needless to say, I had an experience or two!

Margaret and Eldon Wade were upstairs. One Easter, Margaret, Mary and I made
a cardboard Easter bunny which had been shown in the Dispatch paper. It was a rather warm
evening, so Margaret and I enjoyed a cocktail or two or ? We got on a "laughing jag" and
Mary has never let me forget it. When I think of it now, I almost get on another one! We
sobered up quickly when Tiny came in and told us Grandmother Klingel had just passed away.

One night - several weeks after the big fire - we heard Paul and Lib frantically
knocking on our door and shouting "fire". I jumped out of bed and ran to the back door. My
electric dryer was out in the hall, and I had put clothes in it to dry before I had gone to bed.
I grabbed the clothes out while Tiny pulled the plug. When the hot clothes hit my skin, I
suddenly realized I was naked. I screeched, "Oh! My God!" and disappeared into the
apartment. No one else knew what happened. When I told them Paul bemoaned the fact he
had not even noticed - nor had anyone else except me.


-53-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (58)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (58)

Description

Corresponds to page 54 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


In the Fifties

When Mary became five years old it was quite evident she needed to go to school.
I was teaching at Oakland Park Elementary in Columbus. Ken and Micky Feasel lived close
to the school. We arranged for Mickey to keep Mary and both she and Kathy, who was the
same age, attended kindergarten at Oakland Park School. While there were several up and
down experiences the the opportunity for Mary was educationally beneficial. Also our friendships
with Micky and Ken, Kathy and Kevin, continues to this day.

During this time Harold and I doubled our efforts so we could buy land, build a home.
Harold not only ran the station but he also hauled milk and ice for local merchants and
became a school bus driver. He labored and it paid off. In 1955 we decided to take the
punge -- borrow the money for a new station, land for a home and money enough to build
a house. Harold said we might as well go whole hog or none. In 1955, the dye was cast.

Needless to say, it was an exciting time. Mr. and Mrs. Blayney alerted us to Jay and
Ellen Stemen and their plans to build on land they had purchased from Royal Mc Farland. Jay
sold Harold a large lot. Harold decided to be his own contractor and with Jay the two men
built beautiful brick housed on Sedgwick! Harold said he would take care of the outside if
I would be responsible for the inside.

The joy of the house was heightened and saddened by two events. One was
Grandmother Klingel's death. Harold was the executor of her estate. When all the legalities
were settled, Harold received some money from it all. We decided to do something special
in the house. The lovely stone wall in the living room resulted. Mr. Paskins, who helped
build the Lincoln-LeVeque Tower in Columbus, designed and constructed the wall from stone
purchased near Millwood, Ohio.

The second bittersweet event occurred when we were to move from the apartment
to the house --December 16, 1955. My father, who had been a semi-invalid for almost sixteen
years became very ill and passed away at 1:00 A.M. on December 13, 1955. All the family
came home except Julia who was in Nevada at the time and not in very good health herself.
Our debate was -- "move or not to move". It was decided we should go ahead -- move the
day after the funeral and it would help divert attention from our loss.

And, so it did. In the evening of the 16th we entertained in our new home--the family
was there. As the cliche states, "It takes a lot of living to make a house a home. " I found
it true. Decorating, landscaping, adding land purchases, building on an extra room, a deck,
and a patio have all contributed to the present day status of this house I call home.

We had not lived in the house very long until another rewarding experience came our
way. Walter Roof was the counselor at Big Walnut High School. One evening in February
of '56 he came into the station for service. Tiny noted he looked worried and asked why. Mr.
Roof was deeply concerned about one of his senior girls who was a ward from Franklin
County Children's Services. A family in the BWHS area had been keeping her as a farm hand
during high school years but now with graduation only a few months away, she was being
threatened with being sent back to the "home". The story touched Tiny deeply. He was
accustomed to helping the young boys with problems but this was a girl. He told Mr. Roof
that he may have an answer to the problem. Just let him talk to his wife.

Needless to say, there was no hesitation and within a few days Phyllis Griffith became
a member of our family. She was an attractive, ambitious young girl. It took little time for
her to fit into our family. She became a sister to Mary and relieved me from baby-sitting
worries. We tried to include her in as many family activities as possible. One trip to


-54-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (59)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (59)

Description

Corresponds to page 55 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Charleston, W. Va., where Walt had his medical practice, was fun. My niece, Patty, and
nephew, Wally, were the same age as she. They enjoyed the weekend riding in the
convertible with the top down on the new R. 77 toll highway. We drove to The Glass House
a beautiful restaurant overlooking a gorgeous mountain view. Dessert was special --flaming
with sparklers, and it was a fun time for all.

Picking out a prom dress, the graduation invitations, and other necessities for the
occasion added to the pleasure of the experiences. Connie Perry was going to be
married. Phyllis gave her a shower, the spring passed quickly. Tiny and I had grown
to appreciate Phyllis. At graduation we offered to send her to college. She opted
to get a job and establish her independence. She stayed with us until fall. Tiny had
asked her for ten dollars out of each pay. He saved this for her and when she moved out, he
gave her the entire amount. Phyllis is now Mrs. Phyllis (Richard) DeVore. You can
imagine how proud we are of her.

Harold was constantly aware of people in need. Th Blaneys were an elderly couple
who lived in a large white house across the street from Harold's station. They did not have
children and at holiday times, nothing special seemed to happen in their lives. At
Thanksgiving or Christmas, Harold would always say, "Fix large dinner plates for the
Blayneys." Mary and I would pile them high and Harold and Mary delivered them.

Harold was deeply interested in the young boys of the community. If he got wind of
a problem or event which might result in a bad situation, he would try to defuse it. Once a
group decided to skip school. Harold let it be known he was behind in some work at the


In the picture at left are Harry, Arthur, and Walter, standing. Seated in the next row
down are Julia, Robert, James, and Jeanette. Seated in the front are Fran and Anna.
This picture was taken on the steps of the Spangler home where my parents' fiftieth
wedding anniversary was celebrated - circa 1953


Pictured at right is Phyllis Griffith


-55-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (60)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (60)

Description

Corresponds to page 56 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

station and could use some help. the boys volunteered to help. He was able to keep them
busy and happy all day. He was able to make it OK with their guidance councilor.

George Baughman was a young lad about whom Harold was concerned. George's
health was not the best. He had trouble breathing and suffered asthma attacks. George spent
a lot of time at the station. Harold had him do as many jobs as possible and gave him some
spending money at times.

One year we were planning to go to Florida for Christmas break. Harold decided to
do his inventory Christmas morning. He was not open for business but he heard a knock on
the door and answered it. It was George. Harold was glad to see him and put him to work.
When he had a chance, Harold called me and asked if I could find some presents for George,
would I wrap them and put them under the tree? And, set another plate at the table as he was
certain George would be hungry.

Mary and I found several items and George seemed surprised and pleased. Not only
did he eat but he stayed and played games with Mary until we had to leave.

George found a great gal, Patty. We attended their wedding in a church in south
Columbus. Their reception was at Patty's parents home in Mifflin. To their union a boy and
a girl were born.

A short time after the marriage, we invited George and Pat pat over for home-made ice
cream. George was well into s second serving when he winced in pain and grabbed his chest.
When we called the doctor the advice we were given was that George was probably suffering
from an asthma attack as he had them often.

Patty took George home but the next day she called and said George was in
University Hospital because he had a collapsed lung.

Heart trouble and lung complications cut George's life short. He collapsed on the
beach in Florida. He was flown home to be cared for by his own doctors but unfortunately
his time had run out.

When boys entered the services of their country, they wrote to Harold. Dennis Hite
from the Phillippines, John Burrer from Iceland are two examples.

When Harold passed away, I never worried about his soul. He was a man of deep
faith and conviction which he practiced every day.

It was just a little later that Mother, Anna Goff, moved in with us. This was not an
easy decision for her. For a while she maintained her apartment at Walt's place in Dunbar,
West Virginia. Her winters were often spent in Florida with her sister, Dorothy, at Sebastian.
She also visited the other siblings a few days at a time, but according to her diary entries our
house was "home". Mother passed away in September, 1969 within a month of her88th
birthday. She was a talented woman and a truly supportive parent to all her children. Tiny
was very good to her and I am grateful for the relationship I experienced with her. She was
a wonderful grandmother to Mary. Much of her influence can be seen in Mary's cooking and
sewing.

When Mother was here, there were many family gatherings and trips back and forth
to West Virginia, to Kokomo, Indiana, to Chicago, and to Long Island where Harold's sister,
Vonda, lived. New Year's Eve in the loop in downtown Chicago resulted from one trip to
Walt's and Pat's place. Seeing St. Patrick's Cathedral, shopping Macy's Department Store,
watching the skaters at Rockefeller Center and viewing the lighting of the huge Christmas tree
there, were memorable experiences in New York City. In Florida then we were busy deep-
sea fishing, visiting Cyprus Gardens, and Bok Tower, swimming hunting for shells on Marco


-56-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (61)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (61)

Description

Corresponds to page 57 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Island, gathering citrus fruits, shopping in all the well-known places, and enjoying our
relatives.

The years of the 50's flew past rapidly. Late in the '50"s I realized I needed to get a
master's degree if I wanted to be a better teacher or become a principal. Because Columbus
Public Schools worked with Ohio State University College of Education training future
teachers, any teacher in the Columbus system could attend OSU free of fees. The
opportunity was there and I took advantage of it. I warned my family there would be many
times when I could not do many extra activities because I would need time for study and class
attendance.

By this time I had been teaching fifth grade A and B and sixth grade B. Columbus
schools still had half year promotions.

One year I had 5 B, 5 A, and 6 B, in one class. It proved challenging. After a few
years of elementary teaching I thought it would be interesting to teach in junior high.
Linmoor Junior High was under construction. I asked to be transferred to it. What an
experience that was!

Relationships with black students developed at this school. At the start of the school's
history there were many more white students than black. It was very soon-less then ten years-
- the reverse was true.

I had been at Linmoor Junior High School 2 1/2 years when I was appointed
resource teacher for eighteen elementary schools on the west side of Columbus. In no time
at all I learned the west side. Schools such as West Broad, Lindbergh, Chicago Avenue
became a part of my routine. I visited classes from kindergarten through sixth grade.
sometimes I would teach, sometimes work only with the teacher and sometimes substituted
for the principal. These experiences trained me to become a better teacher and later principal.

The next school year I was assigned as a resource teacher for all the seventh grade
self-contained classrooms in the city. I visited every teacher in the program that year. I wrote
a resource booklet for the program. It was at this level I discovered the power of the
Columbus teachers organizations emerging. It became difficult to ask teachers to attend any
meetings before or after school hours. The future of the C.E.A. was becoming evident.

In the meantime I had received my Masters in Education Administration and was
hoping for a principalship. One reason for my delay in such an appointment was that I did not
live within the Columbus area. What a better pill! There was nothing in the rules that
required this. Nevertheless, I was given a choice teaching position as a self-contained seventh
grade teacher at Dominion Jr. High. After all the Governor's daughter attended this school
as well as Judge Swartzwalder's son. I decided I would become one of the best teachers in
the city. And, I did, In fact, I was named the outstanding junior high teacher of the year by
the Columbus Jaycees in 1966. In the fall of that year I was named an assistant principal of
one of the most difficult elementary schools in the city--Douglas Elementary on Broad & 18th
street.

Monday mornings a sweeper would come to clear the playground of debris.
Sometimes the ground would sparkle as if covered with diamonds -- diamonds of glass beer
bottles broken into tiny bits. Many children attending school came with empty stomachs.
Federally funded breakfasts were served but some refused to come a little earlier than usual
to take advantage of it; or, some did not like the cereal or the juice; yet a few were there
every day and appreciated the privilege.

There were some wonderful teachers at Douglas-- both black and white. I did the


-57-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (62)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (62)

Description

Corresponds to page 58 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


"no-no" principals are advised against. One of the teachers needed emergency money --
another teacher and I signed her note. True to her promise she paid it.

One afternoon I visited the sixth grade class on the second floor. The class was
having music and were learning a lively dance. As I watched I thought the floor was moving
up and down. As it was right after my lunch, I thought I was becoming ill, but, as I continued
to see movement and felt fine I decided to report to the principal. He went up to see what
might be happening. It wasn't long until he came down and confirmed the movement. The
building was nearly 100 years old so it was no surprise when the maintenance men ordered
the removal of all students from the second floor. Supports were almost worn away from the
sides of the rooms. From basement to top floor a steel steel support system was installed and a
possible disaster was prevented.

An amusing community event took place at the school. The city had just installed
some much-needed street lights in the area near the school. Mayor Sensenbrenner was to
throw the switch to light them. A switch and a few wires were placed on a pole just outside
the school's front front door. The formal ceremony took place the mayor threw the switch, and the
lights came on. It was a good thing the radio engineer was there to send the signal to the
operator, as the wires running up the pole were not connected to anything!

One the students invited me to her church tea. It happened to be Phil Hale's church
on Champion Avenue. It was a wonderful affair. Several tables were set with silver tea,
coffee and punch service accompanied by silver trays of goodies. Floral arrangements
highlighted each table. This was a money-raising idea. Each Sunday School class had a table
as did each organizational group in the church. One could visit each or all tables as long as
you bought the goodies. It was both interesting and exciting and I was the only white person
attending. This experience led me to another.

An all-black group was meeting and planning festivals and other entertaining events.
I was invited to join. I did and helped make posters for advertising and give general advice
when asked. Because of my interactions Mr. Lucien Wright told me I could walk down Mt.
Vernon Avenue with no interference at all.


Mary

During all this time Mary was growing and becoming an excellent student and as
community minded as her parents. Like her father she had (has) a lovely singing voice and
was asked to sing in choirs, at weddings, and in church and school plays. On occasion I
would accompany her.

Mary also developed her own style of writing. In her freshman year at Big Walnut, she
wrote an essay for the American Legion contest. She won first place for freshman girls in the
state. Her reward was a trip to Washington, D. C. Incidently, David Morris sent Mary a copy
of her essay that he found in his grandmother's papers after her death.

Mary and her friends - Kath Cochran, Teresa Perfect, Judy Reese, Marilee Warner,
and Karen Lane, to name a few - were active in school functions, slumber parties, and current
happenings. You would usually find them in the middle of things.

After high school graduation Mary attended Miami University in Ohio. Her first
choice for a major was pre-med. Her second choice was home economics. Yet she really
didn't feel just right and comfortable at college so she traded it all in for airline school.

At Miami U., Mary had met a young man, Harris Scoot Bloch. They became quite
attached to one another but it was his lot to go off to the army and serve his country overseas;


-58-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (63)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (63)

Description

Corresponds to page 59 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


her lot was to be stationed at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. This turned into a
convenience for Scott's home was there also. Thus the romance fostered and on a Christmas
leave they married. Later they went back to Miami University where Scott finished his studies
in education. Mary had her hands full with a lively baby boy, Aaron, and a home to establish.

After graduation from Miami U., Scott was hired by the Columbus Public Schools,
embarking upon a career as an elementary librarian.

Adrianna was born shortly after the move to Columbus. She was about seventeen
weeks old when Harold passed away and was just fourteen months old when Paul arrived on
the scene.


Social clubs, Service Clubs and Other Organizations

It seems I have always been involved in activities which were supposed to enhance
one's life, broaden one's social circle, serve one's fellowmen, and give one joy and pleasure
at the same time.

The Pythian Sisters was an interesting group of Sunbury area women. Marge Stith
Mary Hervey, Martha Goff, Sonnie Barnett were just a few in the drill team of which I was
a member. At the same time Mary was active in the junior group. During these day practice
time was extremely important and it was difficult to work it into our busy schedules; however,
the rewards of high ratings from visiting dignitaries always made one's efforts worth it.

Mary's clear and beautiful voice was being heard by many at these meetings. She was
invited to sing at the Ohio State Fair. I guess I was more excited about it than she was. I
recall her solo was "Open the Gates of the Temple." She also sang it at the Easter Sunrise
Service that spring.

Another Mary, Mary Hervey, impressed me too. Whenever Mary Hervey came into
a room everything came to a halt. One's attention was focused on Mary. You could not help
yourself. She was dressed to the nines! Purse, hat , shoes, gloves -- all coordinated to the tee!
She would always have a comment that would bring us back to normal in a second but you
never forgot that previous moment.

Nonpareil was a literary club in Westerville which my Mother was invited to join after
moving from Galena where she had been a member of the G. and T. Club.

I have previously mentioned I would take Mom to her meetings as she had given up
driving. I was invited to join. I did and the rewards of being with these older women were
great.

Mrs. Hance was a rare one. She had attended Ohio State University when George
Bellows was there. The two often spent time together painting. She turned me on to his
work, and many years later I chose to give a report on him for another literary club, Sorosis,
to which I still belong. At the time of the report there was a display of his works at the
Columbus Art Gallery. It all culminated in a very satisfying experience for me.

Another lady, Mary Alkire, was a member. Her family owned the beautiful brick
home on North State Street in Westerville where the development of a business area has
taken place. We often had the meetings there. One program was on music. I was teaching
piano at the time. I invited one of my students, Gary Allen , to play for the group. It was a
memorable event for those older ladies to hear a young teenager perform as well. Needless
to say, I was proud of him, too.

This essay of mine won 1st in a state contest sponsored by The Ohio Federation of
Women's Clubs.


-59-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (64)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (64)

Description

Corresponds to page 60 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


THE TIME IS NOW TO USE YOUR INFLUENCE

Yes, the time is now to use your influence. Turmoil rages rampart throughout the
world. Nations reel under chaotic conditions of unemployment, economic uncertainties
changing morality, criminal injustices, alcoholism, drug usage, family deterioration, marital
friction, wife and child abuse, starvation, foreign aggression, vital health problems, and a
vast number of troubles and ills. Could there be a greater challenge facing you?

The need for voluntary action is everywhere. Social organizations supporting the
handicapped, the sick, the aged, the needy, and the culturally deprived beg for help.
Educational and religious institutions struggling under enormous odds, hunger for
assistance in their endeavors. Clubs and organizations, ranging from hobbies to other
varied types of pleasurable leisure-time activities , offer active participation to you.

Truly, the time is now to use your influence concerning these matters. Any action you
take will influence everyone with whom you come in contact. Like a pebble tossed into the
creek, there is not way of predicting how far-reaching your influence may be. Now it the time
to earnestly become "large in thought, in word, in deed" as the Club Collect of the Ohio
Federation of Women's Clubs states.

You are familiar with the adage, "A faint heart never won a fair lady." One can
paraphrase this saying: "A faint heart never influences anything." Living in our world
demands a stouthearted person. No matter where you live or what you are doing you can
influence something that is happening around you; and now is the time for you to use that
influence. Every woman who truly desires to help create a more perfect world owed it to
posterity to observe critically, to think deeply, to sense stoically, to listen carefully, to speak
confidently and to act positively.

"You've come a long way, Baby "is another cliche. This, too may be used to remind
women to not permit prominent local, state, or national political leaders, or popular sports
figures, or theatrical, artistic, performers to daunt the spirits, or to lighten the shackles once
again around the women of the world. The time is now to use your influence to prevent a
set-back in the struggle for women's rights. Do not procrastinate. Do not leave any matter
about which you feel deeply in the hands of anyone else.

Are you asking yourself how one woman can make any impact upon the life of
mankind today? I hope you are because the answer lies in your decision to put your energy
into action rather than simply "letting off steam". It is not uncommon to hear almost daily
the remark. "It I were that person, I would ... 'Yet, how often have you observed a follow-
through to that statement? Put into action your better influences, straight forward and
unafraid. If you need inspiration to move ahead, think of the outstanding achievements of
such women as the Virgin Mary, Queen Elizabeth I, Helen Keller, Eleanor Roosevelt, Golda
Meir, or Sister Teresa. Each did what she could in a manner unique unto herself. You can
too.

An important step one must take is a personal inventory of oneself. Know thyself.
What do you think? Do you actually have an opinion, or a truly deep conviction, or even
an obsession about anything? Have you ever deliberately challenged a public statement?
Have you penned a letter to an editor, to a Congressman, or to any other prominent leader
giving your belief on a matter? Have you ever reacted to an unfair situation by protesting
verbally, physically, or by a mute but immoveable stance? If you have fantasized such
actions but have never really participated in these deeds, now is the time to take inventory


-60-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (65)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (65)

Description

Corresponds to page 61 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

of your thoughts, desires, concerns for humanity, and other aspects of life in this world today.

"No man is an island" and "One cannot live by bread alone" are two age old truths. Admit they are true: then, reach out ." Take the first faltering steps and open the door to exciting new experiences. You must be willing to become involved: and you must realize the risks you may be asked to take. Discretion is a good rule to follow. One may not wish to become entangled in every situation which stirs you up or 'boils your blood." Choose your field whether it is a current political issue or a social one. A religious controversy, a competitive sport, or an intriguing collection or hobby. Once you are aware of your basic position, your task has just begun. Now you must do your homework.

Become informed. You must know your subject pro and con. Develop your strategy;
then, attack. There is no limit to the information you can acquire about your cause.
Libraries, information centers, clubs, organizations, and acknowledged authorities are
reliable places to gather informative material background. Caution: dig deeply. Face
value, the crust, may be thin. Probe to the heart of your case. No frivolity can be tolerated.
Pretense, self pity, and prejudices must be discarded. Facts, depth, width, and leverage must
be learned and used. Leave no stone unturned; no avenues unexplored. Take time for the
acquisition of this knowledge so that you may be calm, serene, and gentle in your approach
in using your influence. Armed with these attributes, into the fray you march.

All this preparation is easier said than done you are thinking! No one said it would
be easy. There is help. There is strength and safety in numbers. You are not alone in your undertaking. Join others who hold the same sentiments, beliefs, and commitments. You will find doors opening you never before knew were there. If you have had some doubts or reservations before, you will become reassured by these associations and further fortified. Of course, even this action will not assure you a bed of roses. Undoubtedly, there may be times of tear, trials, tensions, and discouragements. The out come of all your work may not
be favorable or successful; but, then what great movements have ever been won without blood, sweat, and tears? Also, there are many examples where failure has lead to more valuable winnings eventually. Keep your goals foremost in your mind and persevere. Latch on to all the positive elements you find along the way. Deal with the negatives but
accumulate the positive.

The positive side brings fringe benefits! Think of the self-satisfaction that will be yours because you took a stand, you gave it your all, and whether you won or lost, you bask
in a job well done. All this is bound to boost your self-esteem. Because you accept challenges, you become an inspiration to others. Your circle of friends and acquaintances will increase. Your newly acquired knowledge may help to qualify you as an authority or even an expert on your subject. No longer will you be able to do nothing when an issues arises. Instinctively you will react to the occasion. Never again will you need to be reminded that now is the time to use your influence.

Searchlight Club, also a literary and social club in Sunbury, has been another positive aactivity for me. The wonderful women with whom I have had associations, have left priceless imprints on my life. Some were Mada Mann, a soft-spoken, highly educated woman who exuded all the qualities of a self confident, independent, capable person. I determined
to try to emulate her; Luretta Day was another I admired for she loved children and teaching of them was exemplary; and Judy Morris, another teacher who practiced love for an enemy --

-61-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (66)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (66)

Description

Corresponds to page 62 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


the Japanese --and who showed the way to fight the dreaded disease, cancer. They were only
three of the many beautiful women who made up this club.

Columbus connected organizations have kept me in touch with the Ohio State
University and Columbus Public Schools. Phi Delta Gamma and Pi Lambda Theta are
two groups backing graduate students through established scholarships available at O.S.U.
It has been my privilege to represent these groups at regional and national events and
conventions. It has taken me from one end of the country to another --Irvine, California;
Albuquerque, N.M.; Chicago, Ill.; and Baltimore, Md. for examples. I have held my share
of offices, contributed my time and talents to the best of my ability, and am still actively doing
so.

Pi Lambda Theta, a professional graduate society, honored me with a citation for
public service and contributions to the field of education. the honor was enhanced by the
other three recipients, namely, Jack Hanna of the Columbus Zoo, Dr. James G. Hyre, Supt.
Col. Public Schools, and Mr. Eugene B. Jefferson, Vocal Music Col. Pub. Sch. A short time
later Judy Morris was given a citation for her work with the Japanese.

Harold joined the Lions Club in the 50's. Wives were called upon to join in the fun and
fund raisers. Because I really believed in this service organization, I helped as much as I
could. We took part in annual minstrel shows. Harold was an end man and a soloist. He had
a beautiful voice and could really belt a song. One year he sang to Betty Guidotti. Another
time I sang a song to him. It was "I Wed Three Hundred Pounds". At one time Harold
actually weighed that much. The guys were always playing tricks on one another. During
my singing I was supposed to flirt with Harold. One night he warned me to not come near
him. I wondered what was wrong. Guys --like Willie Bryant, Bob Morris and Lou Guidotti-
had wired Harold's chair. If I had touched him the shock would have been terrific!

After Harold's death I joined the Lions Club and became extremely active locally and
in the district. I had often heard what a great thing the U.S. Canadian Training Sessions were
and decided to attend one in Salt Lake City, Utah. It truly was everything people had said it
was.

Besides all the training sessions there was a chorus which was to sing at the final
banquet. I was only one in one hundred fifty voices! After only two hours of practice we
presented a concert which had the audience on its feet even before the last notes were sung.
The experience was exhilarating! I came home all set to do great things in Lionism. As I was
president of the regional district I was inspired to encourage the ten clubs involved to go out
and give great services to humanity. About ten days later, the bomb burst! Lioness clubs
were no longer! The "powers that be" wiped out the standing and they could no longer
function as they were! I was truly crushed. To this day my regard of Lionism is tarnished.
I tried to join again but my heart was not in it. Even though the local group honored me with
a plaque and banquet for my community service, my heart still carries a scar.

When the village of Sunbury was about to celebrate its sesquicentennial, Harold was
on the Council and I was involved immediately. I was named to the celebration committee.
Months grew into years of planning fund-raising and presentation. I could write volumes
about the celebration but the George Washington Valley Forge Scrapbook on display in the
Community Library tells it best.

Again when the United State was celebrating its 200th anniversary of freedom, 1776-
1996, Harold and I were involved; However, Harold's health was failing. We had to resign
the chairmanship and cut back on our participation.


-62-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (67)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (67)

Description

Corresponds to page 63 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Special Friend

People who need people are the luckiest people. I feel lucky I have needed people and
they were there for me. Elizabeth Stelzer is one who came to my aid time after time. Lib
knew how to laugh and how to make others laugh. She was game for anything and she and
I had some memorable times together. Her daughter, Polly and my daughter, Mary, were
often the center of our activities.

Lib was a great cook too. She worked at the Diner but later she and Paul, her
husband, owned and operated "The Grill" on the north side of Sunbury square. They were
hard workers and generous supporters in the Sesquicentennial Celebration.


Social Studies

While I was a self contained seventh grade teacher at Dominican Jr. Hi. I became a
member of the social studies organization. And, as usual, I never seem to be able to be "just-
a-member". I became very active in the Columbus Chapter. I truly learned about protocol,
important local and state political persons, and broadened my general knowledge of world
geography and countries' relationships.

There were state conventions every year and also national conventions. I remember
a state convention in Cleveland. Columbus was asked to provide hosts and hostesses at
various tables. I was a hostess. Each table seated ten. There were introductions all around
as the seating was done to mix people. If there were important people at one's table, their
name tags might help their recognition, otherwise, all were on equal footing. The speaker for
the banquet was Tom Clark, a federal judge at the time. When he entered the hall at the
second level and ascended the stairs, everyone rose to their feet. I was impressed. The
feeling was awesome. I had no idea any individual could create such a circumstance. The
topic that evening concerned the Miranda law which had been passed.

Another adventure due to social studies was my first airplane ride. The national
meeting was held in Seattle, Washington. The local organization chose me as a
representative. A part of my expenses would be paid by the chapter and I had to be granted
professional leave to attend. I asked and I received.

On the way to the airport, I tried very hard to put on a brave front. Harold and
mother went to see me off. Mary was away to college --Miami University.

The first part of the journey was on a small plane which had to land at Dayton before
heading for O'Hara Airport in Chicago. On the way from Columbus to Dayton, I felt every
vibration the plane made. I wished over and over that the stewardess would sit down! Every
step she took made me feel like the bottom was going out of the plane. I wasn't "white-
Knuckled" but I felt squeamish.

At O'Hara Airport I changed from the small plane to a large one. The whole
atmosphere changed. I flew first class so I had attention I never dreamed of: slippers for me
feet, pillows and a blanket--it was late November--and beautiful printed menus for my meals.
I relaxed, looked out the window at the often spectacular scenery below, and then dozed off.
Flying from then on became a pleasure.

The convention activities included seeing Seattle. Tom Leidick, the social Studies
director for Columbus, served as our leader and we ate in outstanding restaurants -- Captain
D's, Eidelweis, and the Needle. We had free use of the monorail. One evening we enjoyed
a Japanese dinner.

Riding up in the elevator of the Needle was a thrill. They were open to the outside.


-63-


Doors to the Corridors of Memories (68)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (68)

Description

Corresponds to page 64 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


One could see three mountain ranges from them. Although the Needle turned, one could
scarcely detect it, but, if you are ever in Seattle, don't miss this experience.

The return home was interesting. There was a long wait in Chicago for connections
to Columbus. When I finally arrived in Columbus, Harold and Mary met me. Our trip wasn't
over for we had to take Mary back to Oxford. I remember my "fanny" got so tired. I turned
my back to the front windshield and rode on my knees for several miles.

Scholastic Magazine under-wrote the convention. It was a most memorable
occasion. The banquet provided for Thanksgiving Day was sumptuous. It was truly a social
studies experience.

The climax to this phase of education came with an invitation to the United Nations
from Charles Yost, the United States Representative. It called for a weekend in December.
Again, it was necessary for permission to participate. I asked and it was granted. I was told
to bring a guest. At this time Mary was a reservationist for West Continental Airlines and
stationed at Cleveland. I asked her to join me.

On the Friday we were to leave, an ice and snow-storm set in. Columbus airport was
closed. The trip was off. I called the United Nations. They extended the invitation to the
next weekend. The teachers at Northwood had given me a beautiful corsage. Needless to
say, I wore it to school and everyone enjoyed it.

The next weekend Mary and I were able to fly to New York without interference!
Having been forewarned to take a company taxi, we hailed one and were taken to Windsor
Hotel near the U.N. Buildings. The ride proved to be another challenge to our -- or at least,
my-- bravery. It was late night. We passed under steel structures we had only seen in
movies, over bridges, and finally arrived in downtown Manhattan. Once more my courage
almost failed me. It was a cockroach infested hotel! Also, our window looked out on a roof
top with ladders leading both down and up! To say the least, I had a fitful night's sleep! Mary
and I decided not to stay another night and called the airport for reservations after the U.N.
activities and checked out of the hotel early the next morning.

The morning session was an explanation of the U.N. work--citing the prevention of
over a hundred wars during the year, the work of UNICEF; the eradication of Tuberculosis
in many countries and many more positive services the U. N. accomplishes.

During the last speech before lunch, Mary dropped a contact lens. We tried to quietly
search for it but no luck. When we were adjourned, I turned to those around us and asked
them not to move. It almost caused an international conflict. I quickly explained what was
wrong and before I knew it, professors, presidents of companies and others were on the
carpeted floor and rescued the lens. Immediately we were friends and at the luncheon which
followed everyone talked to on another. What an ice breaker!

I remember meeting Dr. Grau's sister who was one of the first woman judges in Ohio.
I was amazed that she carried with her a resume that was almost a scrapbook of her entire life
and work. I felt absolutely naked! I had no identification except my name tag.

The Birch Society -- an anti-United Nations group --had written me a rather
disturbing letter about this visit to the U. N. The Society felt because I was a principal at
Northwood School I was setting a bad example to this area of Columbus. The Society's
headquarters were located over a drug store on the northwest corner of Hudson and High
Streets. They were right in my jurisdiction.

After discussing the letter with various ones at the luncheon, I was advised to turn it
over to the FBI. I did and I never heard anything about it. However, the Birch Society made


-64-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (69)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (69)

Description

Corresponds to page 65 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


no further contact.

After lunch we attended a session of the general council. It was dealing with a
problem with Cuba. the costumes of various countries -- Africa, Mid-East, etc., were
intriguing. Mary and I marveled at the beauty of them. Ear phones were provided to every
section so that no matter what language was being spoken, the listener heard it in his own
language. Late in the afternoon the experience was over. We gathered our luggage and tried
to get a taxi for the airport. It seemed none was going to stop. Finally, one with his light off
stopped. He was off duty and on his way home. Since the airport was on his way home he was
happy to drop us off. I think this was his "gravy" for the day. We were thankful, for the
people sights were becoming a bit unusual, and it was getting dark! One woman in a tight-
fitting black pant-suit, cat-like decorative glasses and high heels leading two white French
poodles with jeweled collars said it all.

If I thought the social studies connection was over when I retired, I was wrong. In
the fall of 1978 I was invited to Manhattan College in New York city for a peace conference.
I had always wanted to stay at the Waldorf Astoria and this was my opportunity so I checked
in. I had a small room and I was not really impressed by the hotel itself. Manhattan College
could be compared with Otterbein in buildings, layout and size. The attendees ranged from
hippies to Nuns with everything in between. I was not certain where I fit in! The
presentations were heart rending. It was a highly emotional plea for peace. One memorable
presentation was film confiscated from Japanese photographers who recorded the bombings
of Hiroshima. My poem, Holocaust, was a result of viewing the film and hearing the guitar
and vocal solo of a young man.

My nieces, Vicky and Terry, came to the college, picked me up and took me home
with them. I spent several days with them and John. When I flew home, I needed a ride from
the airport. I called my dependable neighbor, Ellen, and she rescued me.

Since then, I have been in politics, worked with retired teachers, served three years
on state committees for the aged, and served two years with AARP at the state legislative
level. Much of this early activity led to being named to the teacher of the year award given
by the Columbus Jaycees in 1966; and the latter activities led to being named to the Senior
Hall of Fame of Central Ohio.

Invitation
You are cordially invited to the
17th Annual Central Ohio Senior Citizen's
Hall of fame
Thursday, May 21, 1992
1:00 p.m.
Martin Janis Center
600 East 17th Avenue
(Ohio State Fairgrounds)
Columbus, Ohio


-65-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (70)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (70)

Description

Corresponds to page 66 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

JEANETTE CURREN
RECEIVES KIND OF
RECOGNITION OVERDUE

Dear Editor,

What exciting news to learn that
Jeannette Curren, an area resident,
was inducted into the Central Ohio
Senior Citizens Hall of Fame,
Jeannette has worked very hard in
our community over the years and it
is good to see people who are held in
high regard for their tireless work to
be recognized.

Jeanette and I have been friends
for nearly18 years, and I have
observed her as an enthusiastic
volunteer. She has always tried to
exemplify what our community is all
about- people working hard together
for the benefit of us all. We need
more people like her.

To her credit, there is a long list of
achievements and organizations that
I won't list. This only confirms what
those of us who know Jeannette
already know -- Jeanette really
cares about our community. And
now she is receiving the kind of
recognition that is overdue.
Congratulations Jeannette!

Will Neff, Exec. Dir.
Big Walnut Area
Chamber of Commerce


NAME CURREN TO
SENIORS HALL OF FAME

Former Sunbury mayor and Co-
lumbus school principal, Jeannette
Curren, was honored May 21 by
being inducted into the Central
Ohio Senior Citizens Hall of fame.

The ceremony took place at the
Martin Janis Center on the Ohio
State Fairgrounds with WBNS-10TV
weatherman Joe Holbrook present-
ing the awards. The awards cere-
mony is sponsored by the Central
Ohio Area Agency on Aging and the
Columbus Recreation and Parks
Dept.

Jeannette was one of ten senior
citizens from Franklin county and
the surrounding counties honored
this year for the 17th annual Hall of
Fame. Nominated by the Delaware
County Retired Teachers Associa-
tion, of which she has served as
president for six years, Jeannette
was escorted by Delaware county
commissioner Fay Parrott for the
honor.

Curren served as mayor of
Sunbury from 1980 to 1983 and was a
member of Sunbury's council as
well. She is involved with the Dela
ware county Health Dept. and also is
a member of the board of trustees of
the Community Library.

Jeannette received both her
Bachelor's and Master's degrees in
Education from The Ohio State Uni-
versity. Named as Teacher of the
Year by the Columbus Jaycees, she
has taught elementary, junior and
senior high school English and Social
Studies.

Jeannette retired as principal
having served Northwood, Sharon
and Homedale Elementaries in
Columbus in that capacity.

Besides being active in the Dela
ware county Retired Teachers
group, Jeannette also serves as
District VI director of the Ohio
Retired Teachers Association. She
also currently serves on the Educa-
tion Alumni and Development Ad-
visory board at The Ohio State
University.

A member of the Sunbury United
Methodist Church, Jeannette is the
widow of former councilman Harold
"Tiny" Curren. She has one daughter,
Mary, and three grandchildren.

Her favorite hobby is doll collect-
ing and she makes presentations
and exhibits available free - of - charge
to many groups. She also enjoys
writing and has received awards for
both her essays and poetry.


Ohio State University 50th Reunion

Jeannette Curren '44 leads a lively sing-along at the reunion
luncheon at the Ohio Union ballroom. Curren, who majored in
music and education and who has been a choir director and
church organist, got the crows to join in for a roster of songs
that included "Shine On, Harvest Moon." "For Me and My
Gal," "You Are My Sunshine," and many others. Curren
earned a Master's degree in administration in 1961 and is a
retired school principal and former mayor of Sunbury, Ohio.
She said she drew on her experience as a high school
cheerleader to lead her former classmates in song, adding, "It's
fun to do things to make crowds react."

. . . .From the Alumni Magazine

Photographs of Jeannette Curren at top right and bottom left


-66-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (71)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (71)

Description

Corresponds to page 67 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Emotional Moments

Watching Oprah's show honoring teachers reminded me of the many moving, heart
rendering activities the students in the schools where I served had performed.

One of the most emotional experiences I have ever seen was the presentation of
Samuel Moore's "The Night Before Christmas" by the dear students. At this point in the
educational halls there was a debate going on about teaching deaf children to speak or to use
sign language.

Since my school was located between the Ohio School for the Deaf and the public
school Alexander Graham Bell School, my teachers chose to employ any method which
would bring these students out of their shells.

At Christmas time classes chose presentations according to their ages and abilities and
readied them for the Parent Teacher Meeting in December. The regular classes decided to
do "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas." Teachers divided the scenes, characters, and
responsibilities - programs, costumes and ushering. As principal I was the pianist
accompanying all the singing. My fullest attention was given to each moment. It seemed the
children had been given special potents - it was the best Grinch I have ever seen or heard by
any group!

After all the accolades had been acknowledged, the lights were dimmed. A hush came
over the audience. The curtains parted slowly. Each student took his designated place,
carefully concealing his props needed for his part. Then, the deaf spoke! They spoke in
tomes of their own creation. They spoke with their hands through the art work of their props.
They spoke with bodily actions which more than once brought down the house! It seemed the
characters all were almost enchanted by their own performances. Since the poem was so
familiar to everyone, the audience was caught up in the enchantment too. There wasn't a dry
eye in the auditorium as the deaf children wished everyone a Merry Christmas and a Good
Night!


On the day one of former students died, I wrote this poem:

One of my student's passed
away today
My heart is heavy with
emotional confusion
He became an example
Of all our cliches
Such as
Hold your head high
Hard work pays
Honesty is the best policy
It is more blessed to give than to receive.
Ray Wirick was not the star of his high school teams
He was the support behind the stars
Where ever there were indecisions
He made the way with logical decisions
Husband, father and grandfather
were passions he possessed
And he served as a model - the
very best


-67-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (72)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (72)

Description

Corresponds to page 68 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


To his family his devotions was immeasurable
To his community his services were unlimited
To his profession neither language nor boundaries
could contain it
Ray was exemplatory in
every fiber of his being.
In appreciation for being
privileged to be included in
this man's circle of friends
Join those of us who revere
him in making certain
His memory will be perpetuated.
His belief in education and
his belief in historic preservation
deserve our support in every conceivable way.
Because Ray was a religious man
he is now at peace -
no more tears,
no more pain-
I am certain he is comfortable
in the presence of his Lord


Retirement

In 1970 I started to think about retirement. when I became pregnant in 1947, I had
taken out my money for retirement. This meant I would need to return that money plus
interest to the Ohio Retired Teachers Retirement fund. Since I was a principal by '70, it was
not going to pose any problem financially. Along the way I had also done some summer work
so I would soon be fifty-five and have thirty-one years of service.

Advised to put thought into what one would do after early retirement, I began to
wonder what I would do without children in my life - after all, Harold and I only had one
daughter, and she had just gotten married - no grandchildren in sight, even then there would
be a limit in the number expected.

One answer came quite unexpectedly. While cleaning the basement one weekend, I
came across a large cardboard box. I wondered what it contained. To my surprise, it was
Mary's dolls, toys, and other childhood playthings. Immediately, I told my self to use these
items as a hobby - doll collecting. The idea developed rapidly, but I realized I knew nothing
about dolls. When I was a child, I did not have many; and if I did, I had to take extremely
good care of them. I honestly did not know how dolls were put together. When the idea hit
me, I knew I needed to seek help. In my many magazines for crocheting and knitting, ads
appeared for home courses in doll repair. I decided to send to Life Career for such a course.
What a favor I did for my self! The lessons took one through all the steps to construct and to
repair dolls. A lady on Curve Road had a doll business. That is where I found a doll on which
to try my new skills. this was the start of a wonderful, fulfilling hobby.

With the financial and extra-curricular problems solved, I looked forward to
retirement in 1976. When it came so did a series of luncheons, parties, cards, flowers, the


-68-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (73)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (73)

Description

Corresponds to page 69 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


works. It was exciting. The Northend principals gave me a luncheon at The Church on Bethel
road and presented me a silver bowl. Sharon faculty had a pot luck and surprised me with
a "White House" dollhouse. The sixth graders at Sharon gave me two dolls - safety patrol figures. Homedale held a Sunday afternoon open house, individuals gifts for the dollhouse, tea
cups and saucers for my china collection. The women principals had a party at Glenna
Palmer's house in Upper Arlington. There were cards and gifts galore - a pillow from Pauline
Webb, a scrapbook with signatures, books about retirement to mention a few.

Just one week after I finished my schoolwork, Harold suffered a severe heart attack. We had gone camping at Nettlehorst's retreat. The guys were living it up, and food was plentiful. Harold indulged
in all of it. During the night, he suffered what we both thought was severe indigestion. He had
already been scheduled to go into the hospital for tests, so neither of us were overly alarmed.
Upon examination, however, the doctors revealed there had been great damage done to his heart
recently. Then, we knew. He was hospitalized for ten days and then greatly restricted in activities -
no smoking, no driving, no unusual physical activities at all.

Harold and I were co-chairmen of the Bi-Centennial celebration for this area. We had
to resign. the summer was difficult as his temper was short and I felt under tension
constantly. By September, he was able to drive again and the tension lessened somewhat. The
weather then added to our problems. We had planned to go to Florida for the winter, but not
until after Thanksgiving and when the doctor said Harold was able to leave. It turned cold.
Snow came early. Harold was forced to stay inside. It proved to be a very trying time. His
temper and patience proved extremely hot and short. I prayed a lot so I could keep myself
under control - for I've always been know as feisty - if down downright belligerent!

The doctor finally gave Harold the word to go. He cautioned him to take it easy, and
if he felt any stress or strain, to lie down and rest. Two days before we were to leave, I could
not move. Physically I was fine, but I could not make myself do a thing. I remember sitting
on the couch all day. My psyche was giving me a hard time. The next day, I simply had to
pack and have things in order. we drove away, December 6, 1976, but it was only a few
weeks until I returned alone and my retirement finally took hold.


Florida

Since a number of my family lived in Florida it was a difficult decision to make. Harold
actually decided that a mobile home next to Bob and Martha in Ockeechobee would be
best. It was about half way from there to my brother, Arthur (Ike ) and May at Sebastian
and also half way to my sister Julia and Ken in Punta Gorda.

We didn't waste too much time buying a mobile home and renting the space beside Bob.
Harold enjoyed shopping for the new abode. I remember how glad I was that he was finding
things


Photo on top left is of our travel trailer - motor home

Photo on bottom right is our mobile home place placed in Okeechobee, Florida, January 5, 1977.


-69-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (74)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (74)

Description

Corresponds to page 70 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

to do each day. Of course, fishing was one activity he really relished. We were located on a
canal leading into Lake Ockeechobee, so it was ideal for him.

Life began to settle into a routine. Morning time the egrets flew up the canal and in
the evening back toward the lake. Generally we would be having breakfast and our evening
meal at the same time as their flights. They were beautiful.

I had a ball getting items for the mobile home. It was a time when I could be perfectly
free to decorate and to furnish the place as I chose. And I did! I ordered a set of chests -
white wicker - for our bedroom, a corner cabinet for our kitchen and a few other items from
Sears. I papered the bathroom and added towel rods, soap dish and the like. It was beginning
to feel like a home.

The pleasant experience did not last long. It was the last two weeks of February when
Mary called and wanted Aaron to fly down to be with us. At age five, this was quite an
experience. Fortunately, on the way a mutual friend was also on the plane. Yet, Aaron was
truly upset and ill when he arrived. As time went on, he grew worse I finally called the
hospital and they told me to bring him to emergency. Harold and I took him, and we were
attended to immediately. Aaron's ears were infected. The medication soon took hold and
when we returned to our mobile home, he was ready to sleep. When all was quiet, Harold said
he was surprised that all of this had not affected him. I was relieved, too; however, I slept in
Aaron's room so that he would not waken and be frighted by strange surroundings.

In Waco, Florida, there was a doll shop, The White House. One could learn to make
dolls, buy parts or dolls and doll accessories. I signed for lessons on Tuesdays. On the
Monday after Aaron arrived, we drove the motor home over to Ike's and Mary's in Sebastian.
Harold , Aaron and Ike planned to go to an island where the Sebastian River emptied into the
ocean. There Aaron could pick up shells and fish. While they were gone, I would be making
my doll. We agreed to meet at 12:30 p. m. It seemed strange to me that I was having such a
bad time trying to paint the eyelashes on my doll. I finally gave up trying as it was time to go
anyway. At 12:30 no one came. In fact, I waited an hour before May came. She brought
devastating new that Harold had suffered a heart attack and had died on the island. It was
confusion beyond my imagination.

When I arrived a t the hospital, the officials wanted an autopsy before releasing Harold
to the funeral director. I refused. I gave the doctor's name and number in Columbus and
explained Harold's heart problems. I was fortunate to persuade them there had been no foul
play, and he was released. Plans then proceeded to get him home to Sunbury.

During this time my family was very supportive. May knew the funeral director
personally so she was extremely helpful. Ike and Harry took charge of Aaron. Everyone who
could came to the funeral home to pay their respects. Harry decided to come home with me.

The days that followed were filled with activity. The flight home was uneventful.
Changing planes in Atlanta was a bit uncomfortable. Keeping five year old Aaron happy was
the most demanding action. I truly don't remember what followed our arrival. I just know that
I was overwhelmed with the response of people - relatives, friends, businesses, city officials,
students, bus drivers, and all my Columbus associates were present. The funeral was the first
held in the new Methodist Church. The choir sang. The audience sang. Mary had asked that
a poem be read about her dad. It was heart-breaking to hear.

Following the burial all who wished were invited to the church for lunch. The women
of the church and the Searchlight Club furnished the food. It was a lush layout. One concern
had been over food for both Gentile and Jew. When I was asked about, I had said as long


-70-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (75)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (75)

Description

Corresponds to page 70 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


as there was a dish with chicken or fish everything would be fine. And, fine it was! However,
even if no such dishes had been there, no harm would have been done. I was told by Bud
Wyss --one of Harold's travel trailer friends, that Mary's relatives truly enjoyed the ham, too.
Scott had once told me that there were nineteen different levels of Judism and he and his
family were in the nineteenth.

Bea Wyss was also kind to us at this time. She baby-sat with Adrianna, who was only
four months old. Bea stayed at our home, too, for protections against unwanted visitors.

It was necessary for me to return to Florida to take care of the mobile home and the
motor home. I had driven the motor home once - from Westerville to Sunbury! Now I
would need to drive it home.

When we purchased the mobile home we took out insurance on Harold's life. At the
time my feministic leanings came to the front. The company would not offer me such
insurance. If Harold died, the loan was paid in full. If I died Harold would have been stuck
with it. No one had any notion Harold would die within six weeks.

After the business was completed. I was ready to come back to Sunbury. My neighbor
and wonderful friend, Ellen Stemen, offered to fly down and ride home with me. and, she
did! What a good time we had! Karen and Jim --my niece and nephew --in Orlando invited
us to stay a while. Harry and Marg visited her sister who also lived in Orlando. The four of
us went to Disney World. Jim took Ellen and me to Rosy O'Grady's nightclub. Then we
started on home. We stayed over one night at Corwin, Kentucky. Otherwise the trip home
was uneventful.

During the summer I really wrestled with upkeep of the property. I learned to mow
the acreage. I traded the station wagon for a car --George Baughman helped me. I tried to
keep our membership in Triangle Travel Trailers Club. I found that sleep did not come and
my appetite dropped. I lost several pounds but felt good.

Julia and Karen wanted to go to New Orleans for a vacation. They invited me to go,
too. I flew to Orlando and we set off in Karen's van. We found a hotel near the downtown
but also close to the French Quarter. We ate at most of the famous restaurants, visited the
unusual cemeteries, and famous persons' abodes. We walked the streets of ornate fences and
homes. Karen and I went to Bacon street to hear the music. "The Saints Come Marching In"
was the climax! The whole trip was memorable. We happened to be in a museum where a
ticker tape machine was running. The message was pronouncing the death of Elvis Presley.

To and from New Orleans we visited various homes of notable persons. Bellingarth,
a Coca Cola originator, was gorgeous. In Mobile, Alabama, we toured the home of Jefferson
Davis. The most talked about items there were foot- stools. This home was not elegant, but
comfortable.


Edna Chandler

Another interesting outcome from the funeral was the relationship which developed
between Edna Chandler and myself. Edna had lost her husband a few years before and
understood my plight. She sent a lovely sympathy card. At Christmas time I tried to answer
all the cards that I had received, so I wrote a note on the card inviting Edna to stop in. She
did. It was like two long-lost friends. We talked for hours and in the end I invited her to to take
a trip to Florida with me. It was an interesting thought and she said would call me later
what her decision would be. A few days later we met to make plans for that trip.

Our purposes for the trip were valid ones. Edna was a professional rug hooker. She


-71-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (76)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (76)

Description

Corresponds to page 72 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


knew of a rug hooking teacher on Jeykell Island. There was also a doll museum there--my
cup of tea! That would be our first stop. Then, there were all my relatives we could visit.

The weather was a bit of trouble to start. The snow was very deep. It was extremely
cold and, naturally, icy.

When I went out to start to Edna's house, the motor home could not move. It was
frozen to the ground. I had to get the men from the Sohio station to come and rescue it.
Edna and I were getting a late start, but it really didn't matter for we had NO time schedule
to follow!

Whenever we stopped for an overnight, I would see to hooking up our power
resources and making the motor home a home. Edna would cook our evening meal. We both
cleaned up afterwards, made up our beds, watched TV, and then talk, laugh, and plan for the
next day. Edna was truly a "fun" gal. She did imitation of Betty Boop that never failed
to set us into hysterics.

Apparently, our laughter resounded outside our motor home and we were often asked
by others what was happening. We made several acquaintances this way. One such person
was a retired naval officer from Attica, New York. He invited us over to his motor home for
a visit. His wife, Betty, was a jewel. We had a lot to talk about. Late in the night we needed
to return to our home. Our gallant sailor insisted on escorting us. I never was certain of how
many campers we awakened that night!

Out stay at Jeykell Island was very enjoyable, educational, and , inspirational. We had
an excellent camp site. We found the hooking teacher and Edna stayed there while I went on
to the doll museum. I learned quickly about driving on the island. There were many old
native trees there with low, solid branches. I did not want to hit one of those!

My experience at the doll museum was truly rewarding. I had read about the Japanese
ceremony, Boys' and Girls' Festivals, but I had never seen one. To greet one as you entered
was an excellent display placed on the stairway.

This curator knew how to display the doll collection. Dolls were not in glass cases,
and other collectible items surrounded them. An Indian doll (or dolls) would have toy ponies
tepees, weaving articles and the like. I was truly impressed and I told the curator about my
love for dolls. She, in turn, gave me a pass to come back again and spend as much time as
I wanted.

Edna and I shared many interesting experiences. We went to New York to visit her son, Tim.
He was working for Joseph Papps. It was no chore to get tickets to plays--"Dolly", "Annie" and "Runaways", to name a few. We ate at the outstanding restaurants and visited Rockefeller
Center often. Lincoln Center didn't escape us either. It was memorable!

Edna taught rug hooking at a senior citizens center in Columbus. When the center planned
a trip to Washington, D. C., I was invited to go along. We went by bus. The driver and the tour
guide made it easy, fun, and educational. Not only did we experience Washington but went to
Williamsburg and Greenbrier, White Sulphur Springs, also. It was a delightful journey.

Edna moved to Columbus into a condo which she


Pictured is Edna Chandler doing her hooking.


-72-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (77)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (77)

Description

Corresponds to page 73 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


transformed into a charming abode. Later she searched for an adult care center and close
Oakleaf on Karl Road. Again she made a beautiful spot of a sow's ear. She was also closer
to Marty and his family. It wasn't long, however, until her health failed. The little bluebird
on her finger, as she lay in her final bed, spoke volumes to those who knew and loved her.

When I was a teenager, I never sowed any wild oats so to speak. My mother was
very strict -- to the point of embarrassment to me. Now, after the mourning period, here I
was fifty-five years of age, sufficient money to exist on and no ties. I suddenly enjoyed a
burst of freedom I had never before experienced. It was time for me to sow my wild oats.
And, I did -- and as far as that goes, I still am. I am a feminist in my thinking. I like to do
what I want to do without any hassle. That is why I have a companion, a friend who lives in
my home but I am in no way--legally, spiritually or otherwise-- married. Many people do not
agree or approve but that is the privilege of this day and age.

I returned to Sunbury to deal with reality. If it had not been for Otis Horsely, I would
never have conquered the mowing. He kept the mower working. The old mulberry tree tried
to stop me. One of its limbs gave me a nasty whack but fortunately, I kept control.

In January of 1978 there were traumatic events for me -- a blizzard, a robbery, and
the birth of a third grandchild. Challenging events tested my ability to cope with surviving
alone. Having a break-in and robbery really shook me. Naturally, I was needed at Mary's
home on Old Post Rd. to help with the two grandchildren and the arrival of the third. I had
packed my bags to be prepared to stay for a week or two. Upon a visit to the doctor Mary
was told it would be a couple of weeks before delivery, so I decided to go back home.

There was a fresh shower of snow before I drove back to Sunbury. When I started
to unload my suitcase, I noticed some footprints along the side walk but did not think too
much about them. It took a few minutes for me to unlock and carry my things inside. When
I flipped on the lights in the bedroom, I caught my breath! The room was a shambles! Lamps
were knocked over, the mattress on the bed was askew! Drawers were pulled out and
dumped on the bed. The half bath window shade was down and my jewelry drawer on the
floor. I recovered enough to grab the phone and call the police, my neighbors, the Stemens,
and the insurance company.

Not only had my bedroom been riffled, but the back room I used for a den was
disaster. As the house was checked, the culprits had had a difficult time entering the house.
They had worked on a window on the South side of the house. A window in the basement
door was broken. they had gotten into the basement and had gone up the stairs, found the
kitchen door locked, pried at it but gave up. They finally ran a foot through my front door
glass and gained the entrance they wanted.

The police felt I had come, however, at the right time for I had surprised the robbers
and they left in such a hurry the front door was left open and the house was still warm as
toast.

I keep saying "they" as the police determined there had been a car waiting on the 3C
highway for the robber. The police traced the robber down through the pines by a track of
a pulled pillow case containing the loot.

Nothing was ever recovered. Several items of nostalgic value and some financial
value were taken. The only remembrance I had of my father's was a set of gold cuff links.
They were gone. Three railroad watches from Harold's family were missing. My charm
bracelet the seventh grade students at Dominican Junior High had presented me disappeared.
And, my sesquicentennial officer's pin with my name engraved on it had been taken.


-73-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (78)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (78)

Description

Corresponds to page 74 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Why it was thought, the robbers might return that night, I don't know. The house
could not be secured for one thing. I spent the night in a chair in a dark corner with a gun on
my lap.

I was angry, hurt and generally upset that I vowed if anything came near during the
night I would shoot first and ask questions later. The night passed slowly and uneventfully!

The robbery was never solved and the items I missed the most were father's gold
cuff links -- the only thing I had of dad's, old pocket watches and fobs from Harold's
family and a charm bracelet given to me by the seventh grade class at Dominion when I was
named junior high teacher of the year by the Columbus Jaycees. I tried to rationalize that
these were only material things and I must treasure them in memory only. This experience
made me stop and think about valuables and safety. As a result I made two moves to
counteract these things. One, I had as extensive alarm system installed and two, I decided
to have an auction and rid myself of some items. The alarm system is permanent and the
auction was a huge success.

On Sept. 29, 1978, grandson's Aaron's birthday--Ed Lake, a local auctioneer held the
auction. It was an exciting time. The items ranged from a gun collection to antiques from
Harold's home in Waldo; from boats to relatively new items I decided to sell. The day was
a perfect autumn one. The crowd was beyond my imagination. Jay Stemen opened his land
for a parking area which was greatly appreciated.

During the early part of the day I stayed inside. I found the whole thing highly
emotional and I did not want to make any scene outside. Mary, Scott, and the children had
a ball. Mary had two guns set aside for the grandchildren. Bob Reppart talked her into that.

There was one gun that I had always liked just because it had a beautiful stock. Late
in the afternoon I ventured out. As I came around the side of the carport, I heard some men
saying they were worried about having to leave some articles while they went for a truck. I
spoke up and told them they could store them in my basement for safety. Just them another
man joined us and had my favorite gun in his hands. I exclaimed over it and explained I
had almost kept it. He replied maybe you can. He asked if he might call on me later. Right
then and there we became friends. Ten days later, we were dating. The auction rewarded me
with not only a material cleansing but the beginning of a life long relationship.

That is how I met Robert Charles Hanawalt. We kept the the gun in the family for
I bought it back from him.

The auction triggered another event. the purchase of the headstones in the cemetery.

By this time I realized I could not maintain two places of residence and decided to sell
the mobile home in Florida. Julia and Ken helped me move those items I had added to the
place. Bob and Martha helped me know how to handle water, electric and telephone services.
I bade good-bye to it.

Edith and Clarence Swope were looking for a place to buy in the South. I was only
too happy to sell it to them.

These two financial transactions enabled me to choose a tombstone for Harold.Right
after his funeral and for weeks I was bombarded by sales people wanting to sell me a
tombstone. My neighbor, Mr. Lane, was my choice for a salesman. I told him when I knew
what I wanted I'd call him.

One day as I was vacuuming the hallway in my house, I looked up and saw a photo
of Harold when he was between eight and ten years of age. It struck me like a thunderbolt!
Wouldn't that make a wonderful marker! I grabbed the photo and ran to Mr. Lane's house.


-74-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (79)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (79)

Description

Corresponds to page 75 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


When I asked if a sculptor could do stone of it he said he didn't know. why not?

We went to Delaware to Fuller Monument Company and explained what I wanted.
We visited the Delaware Cemetery to see statues of Jesus and Mary. Then, Mr. Fuller took
the photo and on the weekend he and his wife drove to Barre, Vermont, to start the project.
The company in Barre, Vermont, were excited about the idea.


Personalized Sculptures of Currens' Youth

Personalized sculptures of their youth is the way a Sunbury woman has chosen to show her
fond memories of her late husband, Harold Curren.

Jeannette Curren, Sedgwick St., pictured above with the memorial on her husband's grave
in Sunbury Memorial Park, has in one way immortalized those memories as well as the art
form in which they are done.

The monument, depicting an 8-10 year old Harold, 'Gone Fishin', and a same aged Jeanette
entitled "Tender Love", are sculptures created from pictures of the two in their youth. Fuller
Monument, Delaware, through their marble sculptors in Berry, Vt., helped Jeannette
coordinate and realize the personalized markers.

Jeannette says she chose Harold's pose in one of his favorite pastimes, fishing. Her own pose
was taken from a picture of her the day of her first piano recital.

The detail in the sculpture captures a stringer of bluegills in Harold's hand as well as the bobber
on his make-shift pole and the knot in the string which holds his overalls around his neck. On
Jeannette's statue, the sculptors captured the ribbon tying her dress, and a rose in one hand
with a butterfly sitting on the other.

"When I went to Berry this spring to see how they were coming along, the sculptors told me they
were the most unusual markers they'd every made, especially from photographs. It's something
in three dimensions from a photograph they told me," Jeanette says.

"And you should see the cemetery there. Just walking through it - you get an artistic high,"
Jeannette explained.

Jeannette adds that one of her intrigues has always been wondering what deceased persons
she did not know had been like and what they looked like. "This is one way to show others who didn't
know Harold a little bit about him."

John J. Lane, representative for Fuller Monuments in Sunbury, says it took months of searching
and planning for just the right memorial for the Currens. "Personalized memorials seem to be
the trend today. they capture many memories of loved ones, deeds of kindness, moments of
compassion and years of dedication. As investment that will will last forever.," he adds.

The Currens' grandson, Aaron Bloch, who is about the same age as his grandparent as depicted
in the statues, summed up his feelings in, "there's still something about Grandpa I can touch."


-75-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (80)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (80)

Description

Corresponds to page 76 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Trips

Besides all the trips to Florida, New Jersey, New York and New Mexico, I wanted
to see Europe. In October of 1987, it was possible. Getting ready for a twenty-three day trip
was no easy chore. The advice one received from meaningful friends and well wishers is both
helpful and hilarious. One idea was wear your oldest underclothes. Then instead of packing
dirty clothing or violating the hotel's no washing of clothes rule, throw them away. This also
gave one packing room for souvenirs. It worked! But the simple lessons one learns are
crucial teachers. They teach you to read the small print. One vital thing I forgot, a a result,
was wash cloths. Foreign hotels do not (did not) provide them. At the other extreme,
however, they have bidets!

My trip started with a flight from Columbus to O'Hare in Chicago. Changing planes
is always a bit nerve wracking, but not this time. My departure area was only a short way
away. Also checking through customs was simple. There was a reasonable wait-over before
we could board the plane for London.

I remember very little about the flight over. I recall I had a window seat but it was
night. We were thirty thousand feet up but I do remember seeing lights below a few times.
Otherwise I slept.

Upon arrival at Heathrow Airport in the London area, I was met by hostesses who
called me by name and led me to an awaiting transport vehicle. The ride into the city was
interesting-- we drove on the left side of the road and I had to concentrate on the scenery to
keep from reacting! I was surprised by the small but beautiful fenced -in yards that nearly
every house or apartment had.

After I arrived at the hotel--Central Park--I had some time to kill so I found the
London Toy and Model Museum was within walking distance of the hotel. So, I went. It
proved to be a very rewarding adventure. Imagine, an ordinary person from a small town
in Ohio enjoying the offerings of this huge, wonderful city all by oneself, and feeling very
much at home! I spent some time there viewing dolls, dollhouses, and miniature cars.

Upon my return to the hotel, I was able to check into my room. It was not first class,
but it sufficed. I never did get hot water and showered in the cold! I ate dinner in the dining
room alone. Then it was time to meet all the other 46 members of the group. From this
group came three lovely ladies--Rosemary Ritter, Corine Miller and Evelyn Davidoff. Being
alone, we gravitated toward each other and formed a great quartet.

A tour of London took us to all the tourist spots and more. Lunch at Talbot Tavern
was delicious. Dinner in the evening was the Mignon Hungarian Restaurant near the hotel.
A violinist entertained us.

The Tour bus trip to the White Cliffs of Dover took us through a plain grassy area,
Blackheath. Our guide explained Blackheath was where people who died during the Black
Plague had been buried. It has not been disturbed since.

The trip over the English Channel was memorable. The tour called for the hover craft
crossing, but the weather was so bad --wind and rain -- that the crafts were not running. It
was a really bumpy ride on the ferry, The Pride of Dover. It felt like the ship hit large
potholes. In the restaurant, dishes and food were sliding all over the tables. We grabbed our
servings and held onto them. Arriving at Chalis, France, we went very quickly through
customs and headed to Brussels, Belgium. Along the way WWII bunkers near Dunkerque
were all evident from the events forty years earlier.

Brussells boasted palaces, government buildings, churches and market squares. The


-76-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (81)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (81)

Description

Corresponds to page 77 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Mannekin Pis was a jovial sight there. There was an Expo taking place, also the flags of
nations were flying. A huge structure shaped like atom of helium graced the view! Most
unusual!

The visit to the American Memorial where General Patton is buried was a traumatic
affair. There is a marker for every state and a list of names of each person who gave his or
her life. Patton's grave is at the head and all the rows of graves are laid out in a fan shape
from it. Awesome!

Luxembourg was a bit of a disappointment. The Alzetta River could not be seen for
bulwarks and grasses. The stores were closed and window shopping revealed nothing unusual.

The Moselle Valley was nice but the fun began at the crossing over of the Rhine. It
proved to be a very active river with barges, ferries, pleasure boats, and the like. On either
side of the river is lined with vineyards, beautiful homes, and old castles. Breath-taking! the
Lorelei Rock is on the narrowest spot on the river and bordered by huge rocks. Flags and
a statue mark the spot.

I always dreamed about Heidelberg and the possibility of studying there. Now, there
I was and I was close to heaven. From the Heidelberg Fort and Castle, one could see
everything! The old towers and bridge were sights to behold.

In Munich I was amazed to be in the beer hall where Hitler was unsuccessful in his
coup attempt in 1923. I will never forget the number of steps there were to the second -- but
main floor.

Bob Hanawalt

The last twenty years have been spent in the company of Robert Charles Hanawalt, Sr.
I met him at the auction as I have previously written. Within ten days he called. We made
a date for a day or so later. He was a Columbus fireman and had an unusual schedule of work
hours. He was nearing retirement and had vacation days to spend. We decided -- after several
meetings -- we would take off in our motor home for the South. The motivation was the Gator
Bowl game. Ohio State would play Clemson.

I contacted some former teachers -- the Woodrows -- who sold us their tickets. In Jacksonville
we parked in the section for motor homes in the university parking lot.

It so happened that our tickets seated us among the Clemson fans. When Woodie
Hayes pulled his infamous slap act, we were aghast. The Clemson fans soon put us at ease.
One remarked he'd got his money's worth seeing Woody show himself.

When returned to the motor home we draped a towel over our license tag --we
were truly ashamed of the incident. Personally, I was appalled. I had never felt compelled
to call or write a university in my life before, but this action triggered it. When I tried to call
every line was busy! I never did get through.


Pictured are Jeannette and Bob at Linden McKinley class Reunion.


-77-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (82)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (82)

Description

Corresponds to page 78 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


We had to get home because Bob had to return to work. As soon as he had all his
affairs in order, we decided to go back to Florida for an extended vacation. The fun never
ceased. The stay at Key West was outstanding. We found a nice camp and settled in. To our
surprise we were parked next Chester Buchanan, the country singer. He was very friendly
and fun to talk with. He told us that he and his brother, Lester, missed the boat when they
turned down the opportunity to record "The Orange Blossom Special".

There was custom in the camp, that if a person caught a large fish on a fishing
expedition, a potluck would be held for the camp. Bob went on the expedition and low and
behold, his catch was big enough to be included in the pot-luck! It was a six to eight pound
grouper.

The people who came to the potluck were mostly retired naval officers. Coca Cheeca,
Key West, was a base for the naval air squadron. These officers had all the privileges of the
base. They extended some privileges to us. One couple invited us to a dinner and dance there.
We accepted and had a wonderful time. I came away appreciating Jim Reeves who sang "Put
your sweet lips a little closer to the phone."


Writing Poetry

There is something about being around the water that triggers my poetic nature. Out
of the stay came the following poems:


Rooftops and Chimneys

Have you ever climbed the rounding stairs
Of a lighthouse on the shore
Or monument like Washington's?
And there are many more.

When you walk beside the parapet
Clothed in bars of iron
And gaze upon the roof tops there,
Do you feel the magic and the charm
Beneath your spellbound stare?

In the panorama stretching
Just as far as I could see
One item caught my fancy
T'was the sight of chimneys

In the cool and colder climes
There are stacks atop galore
But in the climes of tropic isles
One can search the landscape o'er
Before a single flu or vamp
Will rise above earth's floor.

Rooftops of the cities of European flair
Cause one to gape in disbelief
O'er the romantic lore that's there -
The Spanish tile, the thatched effect
The sod, the palm, the skin
Can shelter man in every land
And keep him safe within.
The chimneys rising out of these
House storks or smaller fowl
The curling smoke each one emits
Mark a warm abode within.

Oh, I love to climb the heights of towers
To view the sight around
For someone held a dream for this
Long before my day
And left his dram for me to share
As I passed along this way.


-78-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (83)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (83)

Description

Corresponds to page 79 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Death at the Dock

The charter boats are docking-
Their catches to show
The fishermen's widows
Waiting in a row,
Meanwhile, crowds gather
On Mallery dock
Freaks, artists, and peddlers
Their wares to hawk.
The air is now shattered
With the beat of a drum
Jugglers toss tenpins
While guitarists strum.
Buxom girls wriggle
To combo measures;
All who have come here
Seek only pleasures.

The Sun is the master
Of Ceremonies today
And these lovers of nature
Bow down to pray
To the solar spectacular
Now on display.
When the arch of this ball
Disappears in a wave
Clapping and shouting
Accompany it to its grave.
Having properly buried
This day and its light
The fickle crowds scatter
And under the cover of night
Seek the adventures
The day's eyes dislike!

Rumor spread through the camp that I was a writer of some kind and soon I was
receiving requests to compose verses for people. The poem that cause the most response
was "Two Shoes'. It was about a tough, rough aviator who had lost a leg in World War II.
He was so impressed he asked me to read it to his brother who came to visit some time later.


A Pair - Two shoes

"I'd like some shoes, "the man said.
"Of course," the clerk replied;
"Just choose your style and try them on
We're really well supplied."

The man chose his styles most carefully
And tried them one by one;
His choices were one brown - one white,
They were sandals for the sun.

He told the clerk, "I want one each - a right."
The clerk seemed to hesitate
The man quickly caught the stare
Said he, "Two shoes make a pair -
Two shoes, please, both right."

Without delay the clerk returned
A lesson in humility learned;
A pair can be two shoes, 'tis true,
When only one foot needs a shoe.


-79-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (84)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (84)

Description

Corresponds to page 80 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


While I had been in Key West two times before--once with Harold, Harry and Mary
and another time with Edna Chandler--this tour was really different! We took the train tour,
went through Audubon House, visited Hemingway's home, loved the thirty-two cats, looked
at the homes and the methods of water collection and usage; ate adante green beans on a
second floor tree-house type deck, and experienced Mallory Square and Dock.

We thoroughly enjoyed visiting my sister in Punta Gorda. Bob joined the American Legion
there and we enjoyed luncheon, dinner, dance and in general, the people.

At my brother, Ike's place, we visited the area around Sebastian and also were able
to spend some time with Aunt Dorothy, Harry and Marguerite.

On the way home we would often visit Bob's daughter in Chesapeake, Va.

One time--for my birthday--we took advantage for some advertisement for Fairfield
will share. Bob bought one. Since then we have enjoyed many trips to Lake Lure in North
Carolina near Chimney Rock. Because one can trade weeks for other places owned by
Fairfield we have been in many places up and down the Atlantic coast, often in Tennessee and
as far west as Arkansas Ozarks.

Bob has been a positive factor in helping me maintain my home on Sedgwick. He was
the sole brick layer of the front patio. He had kept the flowers blooming and the grass mowed
like a carpet.


Decorating

Tiny and I had discussed having a professional decorate the house someday. The
"some" day came in 1979. I hired a decorating service and began a total re'do of the house
on the inside.

Where there were painted walls, they were papered. Where there were partial rug
covers on the red beech floors, carpet covered all. The furniture was sold and new furniture
replaced the old. Instead of solid wooden items, there were now glass and brass. The
progress took nearly a year to evolve but I was thoroughly happy with the result.

While the decorator and various workers did the major items, I had much to do also.
I painted areas myself and redid some pieces of furniture. Again I was happy with the
results.

A year or so later, two major projects altered the outside of the house. A patio was
created at the front entrance and a deck was built on to the dining room.

When I mentioned making a patio, Bob Corwin who was over the street and cemetery
said if I needed bricks for it, there was a large supply of bricks from the old Sunbury streets
piled up at the village garage. He needed the area and would be happy to be rid of them.

Bob Hanawalt made plans to lay a brick patio at the front of the house. Jay Stemen
used his equipment to remove the concrete sidewalk. Ted Foreman said he could use the walk
so he came and hauled it away.

A layer of gravel was covered with clear plastic. Sand was poured atop the plastic.
Bricks were then placed in a pattern to finish the basic work. Bob and I had made trip after
trip to the village garage for the brick. Bob had a flat trailer on which to haul them. As I
write this, it all sounds so easy but I felt like Churchill -- "it took blood, sweat, and tears" to
accomplish. The rewards, however, have been many and are continuing to bring pleasure to
us.

To complete the landscaping, Bob installed a wooden rail-type fence along the north
side of the house. He planted both sides of the patio with seasonal flowers which he changes


-80-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (85)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (85)

Description

Corresponds to page 81 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


according to desire. It always looks lovely with the crocuses, daffodils, pansies, grape
hyacinth, tulips, geraniums, hollyhocks, begonias and other plants.

The second project was the deck. There was a narrow balcony across the south side
of the dining room. One could have a chair and a small table on it but the house had no direct
access to the south side. A deck would solve the problems.

This was the beginning of a new friendship also. "Jay" Clark had done the work for
the village. Dennis Bell suggested I talk with him. I did and he agreed to do the work. Early
in the process his wife, Laverna, came to see him and we struck up a conversation. After
several cups of coffee, she had to leave but promised to come back. And she did for many
years to follow. She became like family. When my sister moved to town she became her
friend, too. Laverna Clark is a hard-working, talented woman who is an asset to the Big
Walnut community.

The deck has proven to be an asset for me. Whenever I entertain a large group, we
utilize the area -- weather permitting. Evenings on the deck are wonderful. If there is a
breeze, one gets it. The deck is high enough the mosquitoes, do not bother one too often.
The access to the south side is convenient especially since a pole barn has been added to the
area. The homestead is very liveable now and I believe I'll probably end my days on this little
corner of the world.

The Lock Box

If one thinks the funeral of a loved one is difficult, think too of the experiences one
has clearing up debts, deeds, and many other legalities. Had it not been for Jim Whitney,
attorney, and Mary Basbagil, CPA, my problems would have been much worse. Fortunately,
there was a will which again saved stress and strain; but, there was one bit ownership
which gave me irritation - the safety deposit box.

When Harold died, the box was sealed. No one could get to its contents. It was
necessary for the county auditor and my attorney to be present at the opening. How annoying
it was that I could touch nothing while they went through personal items of ours! By the time
all the items had been scrutinized by them, I was furious.

Since Harold had collected coins, I was advised to have an evaluation made. I had to
hire a coin expert to decide whether I had inherited a coin collection or an amassment.
Fortunately, it was named an amassment which saved a taxation from being assessed on the
coins. As soon as the coins were determined to be mine - free and clear - I gave them to
Mary. She had a friend who dealt in coins. With his help, she made good use of them.

As for the safety deposit box, I felt I should keep it - deeds to property, insurance
policies and other valuable would be "safe" there. However, the new attorney keeps wills,
deeds, etc. in his office so I began to feel no need of the box. After twenty years, I decided
to clean out the box and return it to the bank.

It was the first time after Harold's death that I had begun to feel a need for some extra
money. I felt, too, it was time to reassess my holdings and responsibilities. The giving up of
the safety deposit box was one of the decisions I made.

When I cleaned the box out, I opened the big lid and removed all the papers. I reached
in to feel for anything I might have missed. I felt nothing. Then, I thought I better open the
short end lid, just in case something might have slipped and gotten into this end. Sure enough,
I felt something. It felt solid and soft. As I pulled it out, my heart started to beat faster than
it had in years! I looked and beheld a wad of folding money! I took a few seconds to recover


-81-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (86)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (86)

Description

Corresponds to page 82 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


from the surprise. I slipped the wad into my tote with the rest of the contents. Then
calmly I finished the business connected with the safety box.

Out in the car, I just sat there for a few minutes. Mentally, I was offering up thanks
to Harold. After being gone for twenty years, he was still taking care of me. Since I had
turned to a coin dealer before and had profited, I thought I should do so again. I went to
Allen's in Westerville for some of the rarer bills and to Steve Green, an auctioneer, in Sunbury
for some. Both rewarded me generously. It made remarkable difference in my financial status.


The One Dog in My Life

Somewhere and sometime along the way I saw a white West Highland terrier and fell
in love with the breed. Whenever I talked with fiends, the subject would come up in our
discussion.

One evening while entertaining a former student and her husband, I mentioned
wanting a "Westie". She was amazed and told me her boss had some for sale. She would tell
him about me and, perhaps, he would sell me one. She did and he agreed.

Bob and I picked up a little puff ball of white fur when he was ready to leave the litter.
There was something about this tiny creature that touched my heart like nothing else had
before or since. What a joy he was! Since Bob had had more experience in training dogs
than I had ever seen, I, more or less, left it to him to teach my puppy how to live with us.
It was Bob, too, who came up with a name, Jeannette's Jock. He was Jock from that day on.

Jock went with us nearly everywhere we went. There was one time when we would not
take him to our fair-share unit at Lake Lure. Ellen Stemen offered to take care of him.

Whenever we went away without him, we would say, "Take care of the house, Jock."
Never giving it a thought, I said it to him when we left. Upon our return, Ellen told us he
wouldn't get near her. She found it difficult to care for him. After we came back he was
friendly as could be to Ellen.

When Julia's husband, Ken, passed away I went down to Florida to be with her and
stayed an extended period of time. Bob was with Jock so I did not worry. I took a bus home
and rode 36 hours. At one stop I called home. Bob reluctantly told me Jock was missing.
The remainder of the ride home was anything but pleasant. Bob put the word out that Jock
was missing. He even made a poster. Fortunately, the local police were notified and it wasn't
long before Jock had a ride home in a police cruiser.

Another time my brother, Harry, was looking after him. We were in Florida at my
sister's, Julia's, house when I received a call from Mary warning me that Jock was not doing
well. Needless to say, it took about twenty hours of hard driving but home I came. Jock and
I were both overjoyed to be with each other. I never left him with anyone else again.

Whenever I played the piano Jock would crawl under it and stay until I stopped. It
was no wonder that one morning I found my ten year old darling in his final sleep.

Pictured is Jeanette's Jock.


-82-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (87)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (87)

Description

Corresponds to page 83 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


I miss Jock but I have no desire to have another dog. I love the memories of him too
much.

Why I Became a Mayor

A year and one-half after Harold (Tiny) died Harold Kintner announced his retirement
from public service. Tiny had told me that he would run for mayor if Harold Kintner ever
decided not to run. We had always supported Mr. Kintner. We even served on his political
committee. Now Tiny was gone and I knew he had wanted to run for the mayor's office
After all, he had served on council for years and was a central committeeman for the
Republican Party. Because I had always backed Tiny in his services, I decided to enter the
race for mayor.

The slate included three men-- Robert Reed, Mr. Russell, and Adrian Abolins. There
were many issues to consider. I tried to sum it all up in a poem.

My campaign was not endorsed by any specific group, newspaper, or individual. I
received encouragement from many persons. I have tried to remember when and where I
made public appearances but I cannot. None seemed to stand out as being either harmful or
helpful. I was happy to find that the public had voted for me as there was no close count and
a re-count was not needed.

During the time from the November election and the taking of office, I tried to
become aware of the problems facing the administration. The old cliche of scrutinize,
organize, delegate, and supervise came into play. I attended the council meetings, held
conversations with Mr Kintner, and talked with elected council -persons. The pressure of the
responsibility became greater at every move. I was fully aware that every move I made would
result in "heck if you do and heck if you don't", but moves had to be made so I made them when
I was inaugurated.

The idea of the inauguration was important for various reasons. One, this was the election
of the first woman mayor. Second, it was won without the backing of a committee, party
or a newspaper. Third, it would establish a formal atmosphere - the "good ole boys' type
was passe.

Invitations were sent. Preparations were laid at Jon-Jon's Restaurant. It turned out to be
a very interesting experience. Kenny Crowl overslept and barely made it in time for the
invocation. James Whitney - the lawyer who had so kindly taken me through the legalities
following Tiny's death - gave a greeting as only he could have done at such an occasion.

Colors were posted by the American Legion member and the Pledge of Allegiance
led.

Pictured is a copy of the invitation to Jeanette Curren's inauguration as mayor of Sunbury:

The honor of your presence

is requested at the ceremony

attending the swearing-in of

Jeanette E. Curren

as Mayor of

The Village of Sunbury

Sunday, December 30, 1979

8:00 p.m.

at

Mr. Tom's Country Fixin's Restaurant

E. SR 37. Sunbury


R.s.v.p. 614-965-3914



-83-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (88)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (88)

Description

Corresponds to page 84 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


The introductions of guests included the following county officials: Commissioner
Merle Law, Sheriff Bill Lavery and Prosecutor Duncan Whitney. Local officials included
Mayor Harold Kintner, Mayor Willie York (Galena), Council woman and husband Donna and
Martin Barenck, Councilman Adrian Abolins and Mrs Abolins, Councilman Dennis Bell,
Councilman Robert Reed and Mrs. Robert Reed, Council woman Becky and Glenn Hayes,
Clerk-Treasurer Dan Conant and Mrs. Bebe Conant, Councilman Jack Brehm and Mrs. (Polly
Whitney) Brehm, and Police Chief Walter Niece. The Swearing-In was conducted by Peter
Monos, the attorney for the Sunbury Village council. My grandson Aaron Eugene Block,
held the Bible. Dan Conant was also sworn in. After a few remarks by me - and believe me,
they must have been few for I cannot remember them - Kenny Crowl gave the Benediction
and everyone was invited to participate in refreshments. Two good friends Edna Chandler
and Elizabeth Stelzer oversaw the food and its presentation. In the time that followed people
mingled and seemed to have enjoyed the whole affair. Channel 4 of Columbus TV aired the
event. The early morning Columbus paper had a nice write-up on the front page the next day.

Organization included adopting an agenda, and appointing department heads and
council committees. Through some political moves made prior to my term the police court
was removed from my jurisdiction. It didn't take long to find out why, but it also did not take
long for me to move on the police department

During the campaign there had been numerous complaints about the police
department. As I looked into it there were over twenty-one persons sworn in as police. For
a village of two-thousand -- more or less -- this seemed out of proportion. Rumor had it that
if someone expressed a desire to be a police person all that was needed was to ask and one
would be sworn in on the spot, even if the spot were on the square. Of course, this was not
legal. The applicants were supposed to be approved by council. Upon consulting with the
village legal counselor, Peter Manos, a plan was made to re-construct the department and
control the personnel. Five regular duty men were kept in tack but the others were asked to
turn in uniforms, weapons, and then, apply for the position if they truly wanted the job.

The impact was unbelievable. To the police department I became Kohmeni! Actions
followed which amazed nearly all concerned. The recently organized fire department
supported the police organization. Tom Clark, a lawyer for the police, took up the defense.
As mayor, I was under litigation from February until May. I could not publicly comment on
any of it while the policemen and firemen were free to talk -- and talk they did!

Some interesting results occurred. One young man was fired by the police chief over
a problem with purchase of some guns. Another policeman resigned who owned a two-
way radio system.

I had the Bureau of Federal Investigations contacted but the advice they gave me
called for measures I felt were too severe and too complicated to be undertaken in this
situation.

Of all the persons concerned with the police department, only one came to me
personally and talked. His position was not in jeopardy and we talked freely. It was at that
time I began to change my daily routine. I no longer slept eleven p.m. to six-thirty a.m.
I did not go to bed until 4 a.m. and I asked not to be disturbed until 9 a.m. When I went
outside the house, I was cautious and I looked over my car carefully before I used it. I
learned where and how to park in public areas and to notice anything that might seem out-of-
place or unusual.

At the May meeting of Council ten policemen attended. An agreement had been


-84-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (89)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (89)

Description

Corresponds to page 85 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


reached and a written document was to govern the department. One person said he would
challenge the decision. He was told if he had not come to be sworn in and approved by
council, he could leave. He left. The others were sworn-in and the department cleaned up
its act. Incidentally, it was at this meeting that Pat Caston came. I was truly pleased that one
of Columbus' best principals cared.

The Bureau of Motor Vehicles maintained an office in the local government building.
The revenue from this department was very good. It was difficult job to keep the financial
end of it in order. The temptations while handling the money were great. It was, however,
a bonded position so if any discrepancies occurred, the village was covered. The State of
Ohio was responsible for this service. When the State re-organized the department, the
Sunbury office was closed.

The need for a facility to house the government of Sunbury was coming to a crisis.
The Town Hall was now the Community Library. Although the agreement was to hold
Council meetings there it became an impossibility. Boxes of books shoved under the table
prevented one from comfortable seating. The Spanish-tile roof on a house on the corner of
Columbus and Granville streets housed the mayor offices. The clerk-treasurer, Dan Conant,
and I shared an office. The Bureau of Motor Vehicles was located in the back of the house,
necessitating walking a hallway. The water department and the income tax collector, Ellen
Stemen, shared a room. The police department had a small office on the west side of the
house. The second floor housed a pool table and a map room. I wanted to clean up the floor
and have an office there but it was vetoed as inaccessible to the public--especially the
handicapped.

The climax came one day when the ceiling of the hallway actually exploded and fell
in a million pieces. Had there been anyone in the hall at that time, it would have been tragic!
It was necessary to find better housing. Two facilities were rented--the east side of the
Farm Bureau Building on the south side of the square and a house trailer on Morning Street
where the treasurer and the mayor had offices. These facilities proved adequate for a
while but it was now evident how badly a home for the village was needed.

Superintendent Richard Miller made a memorable comment on our move. "They say you can't move the government but Sunbury is doing it," was the gist of it.

Plans for a new building on the corner were put into play. what a struggle! Opponents
came out of the woodwork. Public meetings were called by rabble-rousers. The first


Pictured is a copy of the invitation to the dedication of the Sunbury Municipal Building:

The Mayor and the Council

and the Village of Sunbury

cordially invite you

to the dedication

of the

Sunbury Municipal Building

on Saturday,

the seventeenth of December, 1983

at 2:00 p.m.

9 East Granville Street

Sunbury, Ohio 43074


-85-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (90)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (90)

Description

Corresponds to page 86 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


plans called for a federal-type building. It was rejected. The council had to start over and
they did!This time they succeeded. A new building was in the making during 1983 and was
dedicated in December just before my term ended. John Kaisich honored Sunbury with his
presence at the dedication.

The village has been sued for improper storm sewage disposal. The former
administration had pinpointed money for working on this project. One trouble spot was on
East Rainbow. Bids were accepted and a company was chosen to handle the work. It was
necessary to go deep into the side of the street to lay pipe. Safety structures were installed.
When the work was completed the structures had to be removed. In the process, a measuring
device started to fall into the ditch. A worker tried to save it and fell in himself. Two co-
workers jumped in to help him and dirt covered them all. The cave-in took its toll. The
two men who tried to help were rescued but the other man died. I was told by the funeral
director that he suffered a severe blow to the head. OSHA did not rule neglect. It was,
however, a tragic event and I felt deeply involved. I became increasingly concerned over the
safety measures all department heads practiced. Bob Corwin and I attended state sponsored
classes on road repair safety. Gary Hall and I took a course on safety for which we received
two hour credit from Northwestern University.

In combating the storm sewer problems, Becky Hayes spent considerable time and
energy beyond the call of duty, trying to solve them. Much work and money was
concentrated in this project.

It seemed that nearly everything in the village was old and in many cases bandaids
could no longer cure the aging. One such item was the village water tower. One winter it
started leaking. Previously, it had been drained and repair to the outside of it had been done.
Later there had been a plastic liner installed. Now the tower was in danger of toppling
because the weather was severe and ice was forming heavily on its outside. The tower was
drained and in the spring a new tower was erected. During all of this, criticism was rampant.
My skin became much tougher.

The Town Hall became another aged problem. The supports for the second floor were
wearing away from the brick supports. The books displayed on the second floor were very
heavy and this was contributing to the weakening of the supports. Engineers advised
immediate repair. This meant having the library moved out and repairs made. This was
done. A large grant helped the project. It was a terrible inconvenience to the library
personnel, but it did clean up part of the excess baggage the library had collected.

The Planning and Zoning Committee was very active at this time. Seeing what was
happening in Westerville which lacked laws restraining or controlling expansion, the
committee


Picture is a copy of the invitation to the rededication of the Town Hall:

The Village of Sunbury

cordially invites you

to the rededication of

The Town Hall

on Saturday, the seventh of May, 1983

at half past ten o'clock.

Luncheon - 12 o 'clock noon.

Mr. Tom's Country Fixins'

10800 State Route 37 East

Sunbury, Ohio

R.s.v.p. by May 3, 1983

965-2684


-86-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (91)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (91)

Description

Corresponds to page 87 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


worked with the county officials who were concerned with this. Again, criticism was rampant
but looking at the present situations (1999) many are pleased this committee had such
foresight.

The abandoned railroad running through Sunbury was a concern county wise as well
as a local one. Jack Brehm and I were interested in what was going to happen to this land.
It would provide a great bicycling and walking trail. Again criticism and opposing ideas were
numerous. A much worse occasion slowed progress on this project. We lost Jack Brehm.
Jack suffered a fatal heart attack. It seemed that if there were anything dire going to happen,
it was bound to happen during my term in office. How tough, I thought, does my skin have to get?

Joining the Ohio Mayors' association was a positive step. The conversation and
meetings around Ohio were very helpful. Problems were discussed, probable solutions were
explored, and attention was given to stress and conflict with which mayors needed to cope.
Entertainment was welcomed! Some of the high lights were: toured an atomic plant, attended
a presentation of "Tecumseh", shopped in Akron in the renovated cereal factory; met Senator
Metzenbaum and I was included in a parade ride in Peebles.

As mayor one only held a part-time job so people thought. If you do the job right
there is nothing part-time about it. It is there constantly. One certainly does not get rich. I
received $2,000 a year. I found I spent much more than that of my own money. That is why
when my term was over, I asked the Council to raise the mayor's wages. During the four
years I was there, the finance committee began raising wages but the law prohibited a raise
for the mayor while serving a term. The Council voted to raise the mayor's salary to $3000
and was criticized for giving a 50% raise! It was no wonder I did not run for another term.
I was almost at the end of my giving! I wanted to leave happy that I had served and hoping
that Harold (Tiny) would have been as proud of what I had done as I was of him and what
he had done in his twelve years of service on the Council.


Village Buys Land for Cemetery

Selling the extra land--the hill in front of the house--seemed at first to be a no-no.
Yet it seemed to be the sensible way to keep my economy solvent. For what purpose should
it be sold? All around the village--and especially the western side, housing development was
evident. This particular land, however, abutted the local cemetery in which my closest
relatives rested. Land for burial was becoming less and less available.

A surveyor was hired to be certain of the boundaries and the total area of the land.
Plans for development were outlined--there could have been as many as five houses erected
on this ground. I mulled the situation over for a considerable time asking myself such
questions as: What would Harold have done? Do I want houses crowding my view? Do I
want additional traffic and people in this area? My conclusion was for a more quiet and
peaceful decision--I would offer it to the cemetery officials before the village would declare
eminent domain. I sought the advice of a brilliant young attorney who readily agreed to
handle the sale. Although it took nearly two years to bring it to conclusion, the village bought
the land. It took one more year for all the financial transactions--fees, taxes, etc., to resolve
themselves and I could go peacefully about my daily living.

I think there was a psychological impact on Mary and her family--a little more than
I had expected. Although Mary had not lived here for more than thirty years, still, this was
home--solid, stable, memorable. She and her friends in winter had slid down the hill, skated


-87-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (92)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (92)

Description

Corresponds to page 88 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


on Prairie Run, and built bonfires on the banks. In the summer, they had waded in the cool
stream and fished in discovered holes scattered up and down the Run.

There was on distinct difference now. The wild cherry trees and the rambling berry
bushes were bull-dozed away and opened the area for burials. It also opened up the view
from our picture window in the living room.

The effect is phenomenal! We have a city view in a country setting! We can see the
traffic light at Wendy's corner, the fire station and the helicopter landing, and the CVS
on the corner where Miller houses and barn used to be. The traffic of Rts. 3, 36, & 37 is fun
to watch!

And , for me beside all that pleasure, I can maintain my life style without worry. I
thank Harold (Tiny) every day for his foresight. Now I thank Bob for helping to preserve this
place we call home. I am resolved that I will stay here for the remainder of my life.


September 11, 2002
by Jeannette Curren

Summer is dying. The leaves had begun to turn; some even to drop and decorate
the browning grass. The temperature was comfortable and everyone seemed to be pursuing
his regular daily routine. Those persons who were still enjoying breakfast and the morning
TV reports were suddenly jolted out of complacency with a special report. A commercial
plane had struck Tower One of the world Trade Center in New York City. What followed
has been one of the most devastating events in the history of this beloved country.

Tower 1 burst into flames and black billowing smoke. Panic reigned. Incoming
firefighters, police, and rescue workers ran toward the tower while frightened victims ran the
other way. The realization of the situation had not set in before a second commercial air liner
flew into Tower No.2.

The noise created was undescribable. Above the roar, the word Run came through.
Paper, pulverized concrete, fingers of steel frames, body pieces and billows of black smoke
and dust swallowed up the area. All hell had broken loose.

While it was a horrible, most ungodly sight, I could not tear myself from the tube.
Emotions ran rampant; and the scene only got worse, not better, when the Towers fell.
Incredible as it may seem, interruptions in the televised scenes came with the knowledge that
a commercial flight had crashed in Pennsylvania enroute it is believed to strike a vital blow
in Washington D.C. The peak of the terror came upon learning as a fourth attack - a similar
crash into the Pentagon.

It is now two weeks after the incident and the tragic fall out still goes on. Fires still
rise from the rubble at the Trade Center. Heroes are emerging by the dozens from the other
sites. An invisible enemy has struck the most disastrous blow to our beloved country. We
ask ourselves "Why?"

Why are we hated so badly? Answers are only theory. Our greatest minds are
searching for reasons. Religion and politics were two subjects one did not discuss if one
wished to make friends and influence people. Suddenly these dragons had to be
acknowledged and Sir George had to be the one to wield the slashing sword. No facet of our
existence was left untouched. Financial crisis crippled the economic world.


-88-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (93)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (93)

Description

Corresponds to page 89 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


September 11, 2002
by Jeanette Curren

It's a hole
It's deep
It's dark
And steep

It's not just concrete
It's bone and hair
Melted metal and glassware!

The bowels
Of once great towers
Was it. Now reduced,
To an awesome pit.

Throughout the world
This hideous scar
Engulfed us all
In a winless war.

Terrorism -
Like the Octopi -
Entangles all of us
With it's evil eye.


Mystery

Little did anyone know when this topic was finally assigned to me--the topic Mystery
that the whole world itself would become our stage, and, give each of us a major role in
helping to solve the great-question, "Who done it?" Who could construct a plan of attack to
bring down the world Trade Center in two fell swoops? Not only was it who done it but also
why? The core of mystery is evil. What could been greater evil in action than this? Yet,
evil has reigned supreme since the fateful day September 11, 2001.

During a deeply moving memorial service at the Washington Cathedral in Washington,
D. C., the Rev. Billy Graham reminded us that evil itself is mystery. While mystery makes a
sleuth seek the who, it also makes one question why. Never before the history of our
country has evil been so diabolical.

The events of September 11, 2001, employed every element of mystery. Basic among
such elements is surprise! Only the culprits of these tragic actions were "in-the-know"!
Surprise--the North Tower is hit by a commercial airliner and before the


-89-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (94)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (94)

Description

Corresponds to page 90 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


people on those top floors could grasp the significance of the situation, the south Tower was
struck.

Two of the most harmful elements of Mystery resulted --chaos and confusion. Even
the best trained personnel--the policemen and the firefighters--rushed in, were caught in the
same evil as were the fleeing occupants of the buildings. It is no wonder
why the spider's web has become the symbol of mystery, evil, and intrigue.

As in most mysteries there is often a single clue, or a small material piece of evidence
which plays a major part in heightening the plot. So it was in this great mystery.

The cellular phone provided for passengers' convenience on the seat back in
commercial planes and also in nearly every traveler's handbag, became a vital tool that
hijacked passengers could use to call loved ones and explain what was happening. People,
trapped in the world Trade Center, also utilized this small handful of communication.

If pictures produce thousands of words, volumes of novels will be needed just just to
touch on what the television screens have shown the people of the world what the terrorists
hath wrought. Again the plot thickened. There come the crushing blows--the bombing of the
Pentagon and the horrendous crash of a commercial plane in Pennsylvania. Through dramatic
phone calls it was established that some courageous passengers, knowing their deaths were
imminent, overpowered the highjackers, fouling their plans, but all dying in the fracas which
resulted. Like all good mysteries there must be some good guys , and thus heroes were made.

Government forces reacted without hesitation. The CIA and the FBI sprang into
action. It was not long before the name of the "who done it" emerged. The well-known
terrorist, Osama bin Laden. Since the U.S. Embassy bombing in Tanzania, and the suicide
attack on the USS Cole, the CIA has named this man the backbone of these events.

Is bin Laden the one? Every good mystery has one or more prominent suspects. Could
his religious crusade justify such actions? It is a puzzle of great magnitude. It is a devastating
situation and it was perpetrated by highly trained individuals --known and unknown. It is a
puzzle so profound it requires the most intelligent personnel at our disposal to study and to
eventually solve.

Timing plays a great part in a mystery. Throughout the unfolding of this terrorist
attack on the United States, time was of an essence. Now, counteracting actions must be
timed perfectly, too. Our "detectives", the government officials and the various armed forces--
must cooperate to a man. The formation of a coalition with other countries of the world
certainly will enhance the chances of wiping out terrorists and their cells.

Mysteries are aimed at peoples' emotions; so it is not unexpected that fear has gripped
many Americans. Fear has fostered hate, and hate has resulted in still worse behavior on some
peoples' parts. While these reactions might make a good chapter in a mystery novel, they have
no place in this real life drama.

Now is the time for all good Americans to come to the aid of our country. Wave the
stars and strips, sing our patriotic songs with fervor; give your very blood; dig deep into
your pockets to help those in need. Now is the time for courage, cooperation and
caring. Be an instrument in the solution of this mystery--it may be one's last chance.

Are mysteries one of the pleasures of your reading? They really never were a favorite
of mine when I was young. The movies and television introduced me to some fascinating
writers.


-90-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (95)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (95)

Description

Corresponds to page 91 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


Spoiled

Spoiled? What does it mean to be spoiled? Many think it is one who has been born
with a silver spoon in one's mouth--such as George Bush, Sr. was accused of being. Others
just feel it is a person having everything one wants. When thinking of one's self, have you
thought of yourself as spoiled? Would it have shocked you if someone else referred to you
as being spoiled?

It did me! One of my nieces laughingly informed me the family thought I was spoiled.
Of all the characteristics I have been identified with, this one was not on my list. This was the
very first time in my life, now age eighty--anyone had so boldly announced such a description.

Before such a revelation, had always had a more or less negative attitude toward the
so-called spoiled brat! Now, I began to think more positively about the brat.

What is the difference between being spoiled and reaping those things for which one
works? If one's goals include studying diligently and becoming recognized with appropriate
rewards of practicing the piano until an acceptable musical career evolves, or working with
organizations until one holds the highest offices or realizing the love and kindnesses of
neighbors and friends and family --then, I might admit, maybe I'm spoiled.

Postlude: Our Grandchildren

The true reason for compiling this writing is for my grandchildren --namely Aaron
Eugene Bloch,. Adrianna Brandeis Bloch, and Paul Alexander Bloch. the names are reflections
of both parents. Scott , being of Jewish background and Mary, a mixture of Irish Currens and
the English Goff families, the parents compromised on names.

Joy, joy, joy! That word describes my grandchildren. Aaron Eugene was born in Alexandria, Va.,
where Scott was stationed in the army in 1970. Aaron was the only grandchild Harold really
knew for Adrianna Brandeis Block was not born until October of 1976, and Paul Alexander
did not arrive until 1978. Strange as it may seem, Paul reminds members of the family of his
grandfather through actions and mannerisms very similar to Harold's.

At the time of this writing (2000), Aaron is a bachelor sharing a condo in the Mills section of
Sunbury with Adrianna, also single. His profession is butchering. He is hired


Pictured are Aaron Eugene, Adrianna Brandeis, Paul Alexander


-91-

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (96)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (96)

Description

Corresponds to page 92 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


by companies such as Big Bear or Kroger. He is proficient with his hands and has created
interesting articles for me such as a fire screen in the shape of ladies and gentlemen.

Aaron's three favorite activities are cars, fishing, and golf. He takes pride in these and
enjoys many leisure hours engaged in learning more about each. His dog, Scoobie Doo keeps
him busy too.

Adrianna is versatile. She is still pursuing a college education in management and
working at Ross Laboratories. She attended Eastern Michigan, Otterbein college and
Columbus Community State. She has a terrific sense of humor and knows how to have a good
time. She has a dog , Moochie, with which she spends a great amount of time.

Paul Alexander works for an independent contractor. He too, has seen the need for
a college degree and attended Columbus State Community College. He tends to be quite
athletic but also knows how to party. He has to be on the move, doing something he feels
is constructive. He and his girlfriend co-inhabit his parents' old home in Columbus.

In their own ways, they exhibit today's world --the world of work, the need for
education and complete independence.

Moving

I feel like I am in limbo - I am between decisions - those which I cannot conclude until
all of the evidence is introduced. Everything is moving slowly - and that can be good - at
least, no one can accuse be me of being in hurry. It will be twenty-five ears on February 22nd
since Harold died. I always thought I would move to Columbus at that point; but it never
entered my mind then. Now, moving is entering my mind but not to Columbus. There's both
things and people to think about.

Dolls - what's to do with them? The collection is getting so large and I have no room
for more. The ones I have need my attention and I am slow to move. I must get organized.

The time has come for me to write the last account of this phase of my life, for I am
soon to change my lifestyle. My daughter, son-in-law, and I have purchased a beautiful
accommodating home. It is actually a dream home for Mary. Years ago she said she saw a
picture of a home she would someday hope to have. Little did she know that it would be her
daughter, Adrianna, who would find that home for her.

At 3500 Copthorne, Galena, Ohio, - just three miles from my present home - is our
new heaven. Mary and Scott have moved in but I am not moving as quickly. The joy of this
was the "mother-in-law" suite which was finished according to my desires. There is a living
room, dining room, bedroom, a huge craft room for my dolls, a lovely kitchen with pantry,
desk, eating area, all the kitchen needs; and, it is attractively decorated in black and white tile.
The laundry is there, too; and around the corner a bath to match. With the prospects of living
on this lovely place the rest of my days. I feel I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams.

My main reason for delaying my moving is my responsibility to the Village of Sunbury
and the community it affects. I have a year left in the term I am serving. the past year on
council has been frustrating and disappointing. It is my hope to help influence the next year's
work on more economical and structural levels. The village is growing and efforts to direct
its growth in the right ways are vital to the future. There are several ideas how to accomplish
this and decisions on them must be made and carried out. I want to be a part of those
decisions


-92-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (97)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (97)

Description

Corresponds to page 93 of Doors to the Corridors of Memories


In Conclusion

Writing this book has been a chore in many ways: but, also a pleasure. The many
Wednesday afternoons spent with others pursuing the same goal, has been most rewarding.

My sincere thanks to Polly Horn and her mother, Marian Whitney, and all the other
writers for tolerating me all these years (1995-2004)!! It certainly has been an unusual literary
experience.


-93-
Doors to the Corridors of Memories (98)

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories (98)

Description

Corresponds to the back cover of Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Dublin Core

Title

Doors to the Corridors of Memories

Subject

Curren family--genealogy
Goff family--genealogy
History--Ohio--Delaware County--Sunbury
Jeannette Curren--Personal narratives (1921--2013)
Mart family--genealogy
Stables family--genealogy

Description

Doors to the Corridors of Memories is the family history of the Goff family. It contains photographs, poetry, and stories of Jeannette Curren's (Goff) life, including her childhood, family life, education, marriage to Harold Curren, children, grandchildren, traveling, hobbies, and her careers as a teacher and politician.

Creator

Author Jeannette Curren

Publisher

Community Library, Sunbury, Ohio

Date

2004

Rights

http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/

Format

Book

Language

English

Type

Still Image
Text

Identifier

31184261

Collection

Citation

Author Jeannette Curren, “Doors to the Corridors of Memories,” Delaware County Memory, accessed November 22, 2024, http://delawarecountymemory.org/items/show/5840.

Output Formats