Patterns of My Life

Patterns of My Life (1)

Corresponds to front cover of Patterns of My Life by Hazel Buel Ryder

Patterns of My Life (2)

PATTERNS OF
MY LIFE

by
Hazel Buel Ryder

1896-1979

Patterns of My Life (3)

My little brick schoolhouse

Childhood Home

Patterns of My Life (4)

My dear Descendents:

Come look with me into the kaleidoscope of time and see the
changing patterns of my life and perhaps you will gain some insight
as to your beginnings and learn from what kind of stock your an-
cestors were made!

I was born May 5, 1896 to Virgil and Cora Lewis Buel in a log
cabin on the Delaware-Licking County Line Road just 14 months after
my brother Floyd. When I was 16 months old and Floyd but 2 1/2
years, our mother died at age 22 as the result of giving birth to
premature, still-born twins. The date was September 20, 1897.

Quite naturally our dad was bewildered at the prospect of coping
alone with two babies. He, therefore, willingly delegated the task
to his wife's grieving parents who graciously accepted the challenge
of rearing the offspring of their only child. After the decision
was made to take us, my grandparents made just one stipulation; that
we would be theirs forever and that Dad would not come take us away
after they had become attached to us, although he was welcome to
visit us anytime. Dad gave his word on this and always kept it.

My father, at 25 years of age, was a broken-hearted widower.
Since his father had died the year I was born, Dad went to live with
his mother in Croton and continued his business of livestock dealing.
He resided there for five years until he married Gertrude Stalton, a
milliner, also of Croton. My dad was the son of Ed and Sophonia Case
Buck. Dad's brothers and sisters were James, Henry, Lora, and twin
sisters Lou and Lucy. Charles, Friend, Curtis, George (Jode), Dora,
and Alice were half brothers and sisters of Dad's from their father's
first marriage.

My paternal grandfather, Ed Buel (1826), was the son of Joshua
Hamilton Buel and Lucy Gear Buel. Great-grandfather Joshua had a
colorful background. He was born in Schenectady, N.Y. in 1799. His,
father was Grover Buel, who had been a general for the British Army.
Joshua's first suit of clothes was made from his father's redcoat. He
was orphaned at the age of 6. At this time he was taken in by Deacon
and Mrs. Trahoun where he remained until age 21. He was then given two
suits of homespun clothing and a yoke of oxen. Soon thereafter he
married Lucy Gear of Saratoga Springs, N.Y. Lucy's maternal grandparents
had left England and come to America in search of religious freedom and
had suffered many hardships in this new country. Joshua Buel had a
military career and as he had a strong, deep voice and a very commanding
personality, he was made a colonel in a regiment of the New York Militia.
He migrated to the State of Ohio in 1834 and by 1860 was drilling the
Ohio Volunteers. He did not enter the Civil War because he was 61 at
the time. He helped organize the Hartford Fair Society in 1857 and was

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its first president. By 1859, he was instrumental in acquiring 25
acres of land in Hartford Township from Tabor Sharp for the fair-
grounds. The sum of $500 was paid for the grounds -- $20 per acre --
with annual payments of $25 over a period of 20 years! Being interested
in education, Joshua was a financier of the Haleyon Academy in an era
before schools were publicly endowed. Joshua and Lucy's children were
Kate Buel (Hunt), Edwin Arlten (my grandfather), Mudson P., Joshua Jr,
(Jott), and Lucy Buel (Johnson). In his Later years, after Lucy's
death, Joshua and his second wife, Calista, lived in Nebraska City,
Nebraska where he managed a drygoods store. He died out there in 1883 at age 84.

A sidelight on my father's family concerns Dad's older half-
brother Charley, who on the Sunday of May 21, 1899, at the age of 36,
made a name for himself. Charley, a cattle buyer, was employed by an
uncle who was the president of the livestock buying firm of Evans, Snyder,
and Buel at the Chicago Union Stockyards. Charley had become very
frustrated and outraged at the poor service offered by the railroads
in transporting livestock from Trevor, Wisconsin to Chicago. The
distance of 60 miles often would take 18 hours by rail and many of the
sheep would sicken and die enroute. One day while at the station
awaiting a load of sheep, Charley in exasperation exclaimed, "That's
slower than I can walk!" Another cattle buyer, Courtney C. Kleman, took
up his remark and said, “Bet you $500 you can't outrun a train!" and so
the bet was on. Other bets were quickly placed and Charley rose to the challenge. Not wishing to go into this undertaking haphazardly, he em-
ployed a colored trainer by the name of Frank Hart to help get him into
shape for the race. The race day soon rolled around and retinue, who - accompanied. on tandem or bicycle, included a Chicago Tribune reporter
who acted as pacemaker; J. F. Hummel and Jake Milam, representatives of challenger Kleman; trainer Hart; and bag puncher Harry Brown. Charley adhered to a preplanned route on established roads and a schedule of
walking 200 yards and running 500 yards. He ate a hearty breakfast and rested and ate meals according to the trainer's program. A cyclometer was used. Well, our hero Charley arrived in the record time of 12 hours
34 minutes. With great showmanship and final burst of energy, he demon- strated to the large crowd assembled at the finish Line of Chicago that
he was still vigorous and could run like a jackrabbit. This, in spite
of having sprained his right foot a few days earlier. He ran the last
mile in 5 minutes and averaged 12 1/2 minutes per mile -- 4 4/5 mile per
hour for the 60 miles.

Several of the Ohio Buels had gone to Trevor to cheer him on and
again were on hand in Chicago to greet him. They framed the full page
report, complete with sketches, which appeared in the Chicago Tribune
with the headlines, "Charley Buel Outruns a Sheep Train for 60 Miles and Wins $500." He was faster than the train by 5 1/2 hours. The
report also stated that thousands of dollars worth of bets were col-
lected that day!

Dad was faithful to come visit us every week, usually staying overnight and we often visited him and our many Buel relatives in Croton.

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I still treasure a valentine he gave me in 1900. I can remember his
coming to our house, sometimes late in the evening, Grandmother
would say, "Have you had anything to eat, Virgie?” and he would reply,
"No, I guess not, but don't go to any trouble, Addie, just fry me some
eggs and that'll be plenty." With old-fashioned hospitality she would
always set out a meal for him. After my father's remarriage, he and
my stepmother both came to see us. When I was almost 11 years old, my
father suffered a heart attack and died instantly on April 7, 1907, at
the age of 35 years. We maintained a close relationship with Dad's
people and with our childless stepmother even through her two sub-
sequent marriages and her move to Columbus where she was employed at
the Morehouse-Marten Department Store, until her demise long after my
marriage.

Floyd and I lived with our grandparents in the same house where
our mother was born and grew up, about a mile from where we were born.
The house was located on what is now the Green-Cook Road. Being too
young to remember our mother, it came natural for us at first to call
our grandparents Mother" and "Dad" even though they were in their mid-
fifties at the time. My very earliest recollection is of my grandmother
going into the parlor alone every day where she would weep. I couldn't
understand my usually jolly grandmother being so sad at times. One day
when I was a little older, she tried to explain to to me but being a
child I still could not comprehend. When they felt we were old enough
to realize, they revealed to us that they were actually our grandparents
instead of our mother and father. ,

My brother and I had a normal childhood doing the things all other
children of our time and area did. There was an old cabin situated on
our farm which was sort of a half-way meeting place for us children to
gather from the houses north and south and we would play in the orchard
behind the cabin. I remember the fights -- just kid fights they were --
but we always went back next day to play some more! I liked to tease
my brother and one day when he was up in a maple tree cutting off some
dead branches, I would poke him every once in awhile with a fish pole.
Finally he said he would "kill me for sure," but before he could get
down I had run and hid!

While quite small, I would go with Grandmother after the mail up
on the corner of our road and the state road (Route 37}. The postoffice
was contained inside the tavern-inn which was a huge three-story building
with great big rooms. The mail was brought there by circuit riders.
People from a radius of several miles would come to the postoffice for
their mail about once a week. Jim and Sarah Sherdun ran this place and
I was sure scared of him because he had told me that if I wasn't good
he would carry me away! This inn had many different owners until it
burned down in 1926. It has been replaced with a house where Benny and
Geneva (Baughman) Nutt now reside. Rural free delivery began in out area
about 1905. There were five routes coming out from Johnstown and we
happened to be on Route 5. The Route 5 picnic was held for years in
the Garlinghouse Woods on the Blamer Road. Andy Priest was our carrier
and most of the year he had to carry the mail on horseback.

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One of my tasks while growing up was to carry water to fill the
reservoir on the cook stove. How I hated the job, but I did it anyway
and never said a word! There was no back-talk in those days. Another
one of my tasks between playtimes was to carry water 3 or 4 times a
day to pour on the ashes in the barrel to make the lye run so Grandmother
could make her bar soap in the spring. The old lye leach was in the
orchard behind the house. A notch was cut in the barrel; also in a flat
stone. The water would run through the ashes and down the groove in the
stone into a container which, as it became full, was emptied into
barrels. When enough lye had been made, Grandmother boiled it down,
added some grease and whatever and had a soap-making day. It was an
all-purpose product but she did add some perfume of sorts to the con-
coction for our bath soap bars. We took our baths in a wash tub.

An incident that was sort of a nightmare for me stands out in my
memory. One night a nephew of my grandfather came to our house drunk.
He was one of those hard cider and moonshine whiskey drinkers. Grand-
mother had gone to bed but she overheard this man tell Granddad to give
him $70 on he would shoot him! She got up quickly to send me for help
and I remember peeking in the room and thinking that was the biggest
gun I'd ever seen! I was about 14 when hustled out on this mission to
get neighbor Henry Johnston. Spurred on by the emergency at home, I
dashed out into that pitch black, rainy night where the frogs were
croaking and the hoot owls hooting. The water was across the road at
the old abandoned cabin and the nail fence was hard to see. "Cooning"
the fence, as they called it then, I somehow managed to cross the water
and arrived at the Johnstons. Wouldn't you know that this fellow, a
braggart who was always getting into fights and wanting to lick everyone,
was too scared to come help us. However, he did carry me on his backs
across the water and then he went after another neighbor, Dana Brush,
who resolved the problem by putting the drunk into the manger at the
Bush's barn. I guess this terrifying experience is one reason I've
never been afraid of anything since!

My grandfather was James Lewis, the son of Steven and Sarah Lewis,
born in 1842. His first wife, Elizabeth Mayfield, had died after just
one year of marriage. He married my grandmother, Adeline Trippier, in
1868. She was born in 1845 and her brothers and sisters were John, Joe,
and Charlotte (Mrs. Tom Smith). Her parents, Soloman and Elizabeth
Trippier, had come to this country from Wales and settled in Appleton,
near Croton. When my grandmother was six weeks old they moved to a
farm on State Route 37, three miles west of Johnstown. Her home still
stands in good repair and is now occupied by Garnet (Edwards) and Leonard
Kirkpatrick.

My great-grandfather Steven Lewis owned 300 acres and was con-
sidered rich in that day. His children were James, Alfred, Demus,
Harriett (Aunt Dark}, Anna, and Clara; another son, Norman, died when he
was a young man. I well remember when they would come to visit my
grandparents . Aunt Dark (who was childless) was my favorite because
she was so pretty and stylish. She was quite religious and often to
Grandmother bemoaned the fact her husband owned a saloon. Finally
Grandmother got tired hearing it and told her that since she seemed to

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enjoy the fine clothes and elegant home he provided, she should not
condemn his way of livelihood! That grandmother of mine usually
said what she thought!

Like many young men in Civil War days, my grandfather Lewis
did not want to go to war. Back then, if a man could find a substi-
tute to go in his place, he would not have to serve. For the paltry
sum of $7.00 apiece, my grandad and Uncle Alfred hired men to take
their places. Even though this was legal, they must have had a guilty
conscience because they decided it would be best to "lay low" for
awhile so they hid out in the woods up in Union County. They cut some
trees and built some kind of shack and lived as backwoodsmen for a
year. Although Union County was only two counties away from home,
there was much wilderness in Ohio in that period and that fact coupled
with the poor roads, poor transportation, and a lack of communication
made this amount to a long distance. I have a picture which was taken
of these bearded, long-haired men upon their return from exile.
Speaking of the amount of wilderness in the country, Grandmother used
to tell that at the time she and Granddad built their house (1868) they
were surrounded with woods and could walk on fallen trees and logs all
the way from their road (Green-Cook Road) to the Lewis Road behind
their house!

When I was-a little girl, Grandmother Lewis enjoyed telling me
about her early married life. They had set up housekeeping on what is
now known as the Blamer Road and lived there for a few months while
their four-room house was being built on the 50 acres Granddad's father
had given them. My grandfather purchased 20 acres across the road from
the house and built a barn on it, which is still standing in good
condition over 200 years later. A carpenter came and constructed the
barn in sections with it lying on the ground. When it was finished, a
large crew of men was gathered in to literally "raise" the barn one
section at a time and then the sections were fastened together. Grand-
mother told that she and the neighbor women cooked dinner for 22 men
at their barnraising.

Well, six years had passed since the "gift" of the 50 acres but
still the deed was withheld from my grandparents. Finally the word was
that they wouldn't get the deed until they had an heir. Grandmother
laughingly told that they got busy and one year later my mother came
along on July 21, 1875, after seven years of marriage. Sure enough the
deed was duly handed over.

My grandparents' farm was acquired by bits and pieces. To the first
50 acre donation upon which the house was built, they annexed the 20
acres across the road where the barn was erected, they added 20 acres
and then 22 more which they secured from Norman and Many Duckworth on
March 19, 1883 for the sum of $975, and lastly 50 acres was purchased
from the Harm Miller estate which had previously been Uncle Alfred’s.
They now had a total of 161 acres. This last plot cost $1,075 on May 20,
1908 and the transaction was the talk of the neighborhood because it was

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paid for in cold CASH! My brother's family and I still own this
original 161 acreage.

It was on this final parcel of land that the log cabin stood --
still on my property but now about ready to fall in -- where the
neighboring children of long ago had gathered to play. Fond memories
flood over me of the different families who had lived there: Uncle
Alfred Lewis’, Millers, Baughmans, Sines, Feasels, and many others.
Dozens of babies had been born there.

On my grandparents’ farm were four orchards. The one behind
their house had peaches, plums, pears, and cherry trees whereas the
others were all apple orchards. I can remember the house being added
onto. The upground cellar to the north came first and then the bedroom
wing to the south end, making it an attractive house.

Grandmother was a talkative, cheerful kind of person while Granddad
was more stern and quiet. She was quite thrifty and a good manager.
To illustrate some of her conniving during a period of hard times:
they wanted a large Bible a door-to-door salesman was selling for $15.
They had saved that amount to buy seed potatoes but she decided to buy
the Bible instead and use the potatoes they already had by slicing off
the "eyes" of the potato real deep for the seed and the remainder was
used for food. She never wanted to owe anyone a nickel but on the other
hand, if someone owed her a nickel, she wanted it! However, her thrift
did not deprive her of whatever she felt she needed. Unlike many women
of her day who had to "do without" simply because their men held a tight
rein and insisted all the money be used for the farm because money spent
in the house would not make money, my grandmother was privileged to buy
furniture and household items as she pleased. And buy she did, but she -
had the trait of buying new and keeping the old. Grandmother and Granddad
had separate pocketbooks. Neither knew what the other one had. His
income was derived mainly from the sale of his percheron horses and farm
products whereas her revenue came from butter and egg sales. This
attitude didn't seem right to me, so I told them that whenever I got
married there would just be one purse and we would use it sensibly.
Grandmother informed me that I didn't know what I might do!

There was a great range in degree of prosperity within a community
in those days. I can recall visiting when a child various neighbors who
were really poverty-stricken. Some would have large families all -cooped
up in a log cabin or shack with one or two rooms, some even had dirt
floors which was so hard-packed it was like concrete, and perhaps their
only heat would come from a smoky fireplace pioneer-style. These folks
had a bleak existence and yet most of them achieved a semblance of
happiness in spite of their circumstances. Others in the same vicinity .
had regular type houses with furniture and all the refinements of the
area, such as our family had. I appreciate now how fortunate we were
although at the time it was taken for granted and no thought given to
these inequities.

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Grandfather had a job for us once a year when we helped him
drive the hogs to market in Johnstown seven miles away. There
would be from 15 to 20 hogs in the drove and we would herd them
night down the middle of the state road (Route 37) having very
little trouble because all the fields and dooryards were fenced
in. Granddad rode a horse while Floyd and I and sometimes some
extra children walked along. When we arrived on this side of the
cemetery hill, which was much steeper then (about 1/4 mile west of
Johnstown), it would be noon so we'd stop to rest and throw water
from the spring on the hogs to cool them down from the heat of the
day. I don't recall how we got back home but possibly we climbed
aboard Granddad's bit percheron horse to ride back with him.

Grandmother's vice was smoking a pipe, which was not too un-
common in that day. However, she chose to do it on the sly on the
rare occasions when she did smoke. We of the family knew about it,
but she did not want outsiders to find out. One day our neighbor,
young Earl Boston, couldn't rouse anyone when he knocked on the front
door, so he walked around to the back yard and caught her puffing
away as she sat resting in the shade. He was so astonished he dashed
home and told his mother he had seen Ad Lewis smoking a pipe! His
mother thought surely he was mistaken because she had known Ad a good
many years and would have known it if she smoked. Next time Mrs.
Boston saw Grandmother she plain out asked her and Grandmother had to
admit to the dastardly deed.

My grandmother took great pride in her butter making as she did
in all her cooking. Her butter molds were always sweet and pretty.
She sold this product for 10¢ a pound. It irritated her that the
grocer placed her molds right down in the vat along with all the other
butter, good and bad, and sold them all at the same price. She sold
eggs for 8¢ a dozen. Freem Hill of Harlem was our huckster and came
once a week with all kinds of goodies. It was fun to go into his
horse-drawn store on wheels and see the banana stocks and bags of onions
hanging and the neatly arranged shelves and bins of groceries. We
children usually had a nickel apiece to spend. Kady Budd also of
Harlem was our calf buyer. Sometimes he would stay all day trying to
"Jew" my grandfather.

The Hartford Fair was a place everyone liked to go. We farmers
would get up at daybreak to do chores and try to beat our neighbors to
the Fair. Our family went in a two-seated surrey "with a fringe on top"
which was pulled by two horses. All the roads were dirt, sometimes
mud, and everyone drove horses. The Fair is still going strong but of
course now it is filled with automobiles instead of horses.

During my childhood we attended the Disciple Church at Center
Village which was called the Camalite Church at that time. Happy
memories of Sunday School picnics and Children’s Day programs are
connected to my spiritual home. I was baptized in Duncan Run under some
beautiful sycamore trees in the field back of the church when I was 17.

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An amusing incident comes to mind which took place when Floyd
was a young boy on the farm. The men were making hay and in one of
the large forkfuls of hay pitched onto the wagon was a bumblebee's
nest. When that nest hit Harvey Edwards' baler it broke up and
swarmed after Floyd. I can see him yet as he ran around and around
the house, flailing his arms over his head yelling over and over,
"Oh, Mommie, Mommie, they're gonna kill me!” Since he did not get
stung, we could laugh later about how funny he looked.

My mother had not attended the same school we did as ours was
not built until after her schooldays. As near as I can find out she
went to a little frame schoolhouse which was located in the triangular
lot on Route 37 and Lewis Road, just west of where I live now. As a
matter of fact, I believe it was this same building which was moved
and attached to my present home and if so, it contains my dining,
kitchen, and utility rooms. .

Ours was the Miller School District and the little one-room, red
brick schoolhouse which was built in 1859 is standing as erect today
as in days of yore. It had all the symbols of its day including the
water bucket with its community dipper, the pot-bellied stove, the
privy, the chalk and individual slates, plus dedicated teachers. Floyd's
schooling began when he was 5; his first teacher being Carrie Wilson.
I started at age 6 and my teacher for the first two years was Tom
Duckworth who passed away just this winter of '74 at the age of 96.
Other teachers were Ona Linnabary, Vera Huff, Bertha Gill, Nannie
Neilson, Grace Bennett, Alga Bennett, Clara Work and lastly Harry Parks.
Granddad was on the school board and since we lived near the school
house, the teachers stabled their horses in our barn and some of them
roomed and boarded with us. These names of schoolmates and friends of
my youth come to mind: Verna Sines, Addie and Grace Roby, Ella Shipp,
Fred Myers, Ross McElwee, Howard Day, Les Curts, Clell Orndorff, and
Anna Garee (Pratt).

Time went on and I was ready to take the Boxwell Examination. I
passed and wanted very much to go on to high school, but my grandparents
had the old-fashioned idea that girls just got married anyway, so I was
not privileged to attend. Floyd walked to Center Village everyday and
graduated from that three-year high school. He then went to Hiram College
for two years.

By now I was becoming quite a young lady, or thought I was, and had,
begun to think about the young men. My first date was at age 16 and my
beau was Ross McELwee, Anna Garee and her feller, Fred Myers, went with
us. Some of the social functions of that day included the ever popular
Hartford Fair, State Fair, Rome Fair (since disbanded), ice cream socials,
the Catholic Picnic at Johnstown, church affairs, reunions, and picnics.
The dirt roads and horse and buggy mode of travel limited our distances.
The box social was big then. Each girl and woman would pack a fancy
lunch for two in a pretty box and the fellows would bid on it. The
highest bidder got the lunch and the girl to eat it with. No one was
supposed to know which box was whose but sometimes word got around and

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the fellows would run up the bids to get the most popular girl, sometimes
running the bid as high as $3.00. Once in awhile, though, they'd get
fooled and have to eat with some old lady and likewise, some old man
might get the bid. But everyone was a good sport and it was all great
fun.

When I was about 18, Floyd at age 20 married Stella James of New
Albany who had been a school teacher in our old school (Milter). At
this point Granddad retired and we moved to Johnstown and Floyd took
over the management of the farm. It was during this time that my best
friend, Mabel Wagner, wanted me to double-date with her and her regular
beau, Reid Stockwell, and a friend of his by the name of Andrew Ryder.
I was dubious about going on a blind date but finally agreed that I would
peek out her window at him and if his looks suited me, I'd go. Well, I
thought he was some handsome fellow and his bright, shiny rig suited me
fine, too, so of course I went! Andrew and I had about four dates --
to the consternation of my previous beau, Homer Williams -- and then we
didn't see each other for about a year. At the time, I considered
Andrew to be aggravative.

However, one momentous day I received a letter from him wishing to
rekindle the courtship. Two and a half years later on September 2, 1916,
the Reverend L. C. Sparks married us at his parsonage in Newark. Andrew
was handsome, suave, and aggravative and he was my guy for 52 years!

His parents were Thackery and Loretta Burton Ryder. He was born
September 6, 1891, the second of five children, the others being Orville,
Jenny, Marie, and Ray. Andrew's grandparents were Andrew LeRoy Ryder
and Sara Parks Ryder. Their children were Thackery, Monroe, Sara Ryder
Gailey, and Jennie Ryder Smith. Something that always rankled Andrew
was the fact he had been cheated out of a remembrance his grandfather
wanted him to have. The first Andrew had promised his namesake, my
Andrew, -- and even recorded it in his will -- that at his death Andrew
would receive a nice horse, new buggy, and harness. However, his grand-
mother thought otherwise and so the bequest was never honored.

Andrew's great-great-grandfather, Daniel Ryder, had come to America
from England and Settled north of Berkshine because he thought it would
be the county seat. Their farm had been acquired by a government Land
grant. The Ryders lived in this homestead until his dad sold the farm.
in the 1920's.

Andrew and I went to housekeeping in Akron where Andrew was employed
by the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company. After a year there, we decided
to move back and rented a house in the Benkshire community next door to
his parents’ farm. Incidentally, now the Freeway {I1-71) goes right
spank-dab through where we slept. I was always proud that my husband
would stop in every morning to visit his mother who was ailing from |
tuberculosis. At the end of that year (about 1916) she succumbed to the
disease.

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After Mom Ryder's decease, Dad Ryder decided to sell the farm.
He wanted us to buy it, but at the time we felt we were in no position
to purchase it and so it was with much regret that we saw the homestead
pass from the Ryder name. Dad then went to live with his widower brother,
Monroe Ryder. He had lived there only a year when he returned home after
having been away on a weekend visit to discover his brother dead,
apparently from a heart attack. Dad Ryder never recovered from this
shock. It was at this time that his mother's sister, Letitia (Aunt
Let) Parks of Port Clinton came down to look after him. They rented
the little house where Andrew and I had first lived and she kept house
for him until her health failed. Aunt Let was an intriguing personality. .
She was wealthy and a graduate of Ohio Wesleyan. She had traveled all
over the world and spoke seven different languages and often told us
about her interesting exploits. She dared to do anything. One time
while in Rome where excavation was being done following the eruption of
a volcano which covered a part of Rome, she got down into the hole with
the workmen despite their protests. The workers were all babbling among
themselves in the Italian language about this foreigner when to their
consternation she answered them back in their own language! During the
gold rush of 1898, she even went to the Klondike and panned for gold!
She gave Andrew and me a vial of gold dust for a souvenir. She and her
husband (they never had any children) had been separated for years but
never bothered to get a divorce. I recollect how she stormed the day
she got the bill for his funeral expenses. She was kindhearted, though,
and had sent two or three young people through college.

After his mother's death, Andrew and I moved to the Monte Gaston
farm on the Van Sickle Road where we lived for five years. It was here
that both Gordon (July 25, 1919) and Beulah (August 3, 1921) put in
their appearances. Andrew made a living at farming, carpentering, and
erecting wooden silos. Having been raised conservatively, we both
realized we would have to work for whatever we got in life. No welfare,
government handouts, or easy payments were in vogue at that time; and
so together we "sensibly managed our one pocketbook."

My grandfather Lewis passed away in 1922 (age 80) and his 161 acre
farm was divided between Floyd and me. Floyd's share included the old
homesite where he and his family lived until it burned in 1932 and then
they built a house at the same place. During the fire, Stella and I
lost many valuable antiques and heirlooms which had been stoned in the
attic.

To the 80 acres which I had heired, Andrew and I added 40 acres
which we had purchased from William and Octavia Stevenson August 31,
1922 for the sum of $5000. The Stevensons had bought the land from
William and Catherine Brown, March 6, 1884. And so, early in 1923, our
little family moved back to the land of my childhood. Grandmother then
gave up her home in Johnstown and lived part of the time at Floyd's and
parttime with us. Wendell was born in June, 1923, shortly after our
transfer to here. He was always Grandmother's favorite because she was

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present at his beginning. Whenever he got into trouble, he had a
habit of jumping astraddle her lap, facing her, and she would pet
and soothe him, telling him how mean we were to him. One day he
came running in from outdoors and jumped onto her lap in the usual
way and popped a dirty lamb's nipple into her mouth! Then it was
her turn to sputter and scold! By February 25, 1928, our "baby"
Carlton had arrived to complete our family. When he was just four
days old, Grandmother expired at age 84 as the result of a stroke.
Due to my confinement, she was at Floyd and Stella's house at the
time. Soon after, Floyd and I heired some land that had come to.
Grandmother from the Trippiers. We both sold this land: 30 acres
for $600.

Andrew's father became ill about this time and for a year made
his home with us. So with four little ones and the elderly folk,
it seemed that my work was never done considering the many duties
of the farmwife in the days of few conveniences. As I cleaned and
laundered, gardened and preserved, cooked for my family as well as
for extra hired men, thresher and silo crews, my lot was a busy one
but a duty to be fulfilled with no time for self pity. I did laundry
on the board until our youngest was one year old when the purchase of
a power washer greatly eased the work load. However, part of that
time it was necessary for me to send out a load or two of laundry a
week. Sue Piper helped me out on this.

Since "necessity is the mother of invention,” I did devise some
shortcuts and a system of management so that I was not too weary or
busy to enjoy my family. Fortunately I had been blessed with good
health and abundant energy. One trick in the wintertime was to do
the washing and then wait until everyone was in bed before stringing
up the clotheslines and then the clothes would dry during the night.
Next morning I would arise early and take down the lines of laundry
so the house would be tidy when the family got up. Of course, house-
wives made about all the household linens and the children's clothing _
and usually their own housedresses and aprons. When doing any quantity
of sewing and mending, I'd spread out an old sheet to catch the ravelings
and lint.

Andrew and I practiced all the methods of economy we could think
of. In 1925, Gordon started to school in Center Village. He was a -
little fella and quiet like his dad. It was hard times and we parents
bought the schoolbooks then. In his second grade, he needed a pair of
overshoes which cost 75¢ but we only had $3.25 until the creamery check
came. His dad said, "How are we going to get the overshoes; if we don't
he'll get sick!" Andrew was always such a worrier, much more so than I,
the incurable optimist. Well, someway we got the overshoes for him.

By 1929 farmers were really feeling the pressure of the Great
Depression. Harlem Township had built 3 new roads, 2 ditches, and a
schoolhouse and we landowners were additionally oppressed with high
taxes to pay for all of it. As I look back, I don't see how we did it

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because we were still paying for our farm, trying to ditch the land,
add now buildings as we needed them, and build up our livestock. We
sold corn for 25¢ a bushel, hogs 3¢ a pound, and milk for 70¢ a hundred-
weight. Men were working for $1.00 a day and furnishing their own
lunches. To cap it all, as the economy was slipping, Andrew had been
ailing with bad tonsils but kept putting off a tonsillectomy because of
the expense involved until finally he was so filled with toxic poison
he would fall asleep at the table! So at the age of 38 in 1926 he had
his tonsils removed.

Although money was practically non-existent, we got through somehow
and even had some good times during the process. Of course about
everyone was in the same boat. Our children had their pony, Beauty,
which was a source of fun for them all. Andrew had built a large, four-
wheeled, flat-bottomed cart on which not only our kids rode but also the
children from all around the square. Reid and Mabel Stockwell and their
family lived next door, Their four boys and a girl pretty well matched
our three boys and a girl agewise and sometimes it was hard to tell
which ones belonged where because they were together so much. Other
children on the square were Wilma and Bob Cook; Muriel, Delman and Hugh
Buel (Floyd's children); Mildred, John, and Ruth Cook; Dencil Clapham;
and Kathryn Biggs. The cart would hold a dozen kids at a time.

Sometimes the boys would all get together and go away back in the ~
woods and camp out, doing their own cooking and really roughing it for
a few days. Another fun thing they liked to do was to play on the
"doodle bug" which was our answer to the tractor until such time as we
could afford one (1942). One day in 1934, when Wendell was 11, he and
some boys were playing on the contraption when somehow it ran up on his
leg and broke it. He was in The Sunbury Clinic where Dr, Swickard took.
care of him for two weeks. But then he had to go to the old White Cross
Hospital in Columbus and have it operated and be put in a body cast, He
lay in bed in this cast for four months. So that he could be out in our
living quarters and not get so lonely, we put him on a sanitary cot (a
cot on wheels that has sides that fold up) and moved him into the dining
room, He spent a lot of his time on the front porch that summer. It
was quite cool early in the summer and I remember the big frost we had
on June 20 (1934).

In spite of the Recession, which the Depression later progressed
to, these were happy times. For outside recreation we would take our
family to the annual circus event, to the Fairs, Labor Day and July 4
celebrations. They usually attended the Ohio State Fair with the
Stockwells. Every Saturday night we'd hustle around to get the milking
and chores done so we could get into town to do our grocering. This was
in the 1930s and for a quarter each the kids could attend the picture
show at the Dorsey Theatre and even have money left over for an ice
cream cone! It was the fad then for awhile for the young folks to be
dressed all in white, so it was with great pride that I endeavored to
have my children dressed in snowy white outfits, ironed to perfection,
when we took them into town. Andrew and I always enjoyed these weekly

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nights out on the town and we looked forward to visiting with our
friends and neighbors. For other diversion, we would visit back and
forth with our friends, Grace and Harry Jones, Ray and Elva VanSickle,
Glen and Mame VanSickle, Walter and Ariel Jones. We also had family
dinners with these folk.

An episode that happened during these years really put Andrew in
the doldrums for awhile. He had told the boys to clean out the garage
one day. That evening our cows took sick and were staggering around,
several of them dying. The veterinarian was really puzzled as to the
diagnosis. Finally he said, “why these animals act like they've been
poisoned!" "Dad" (as I now called Andrew) didn't say a word but
immediately went to the garage, climbed to the farthest, highest rafter
and looked for the bag of paris green (an insecticide) where he had so
carefully tied it so as to be out of harm's way. It was gone! So then
he knew what ailed the cows. The boys had done too thorough a job of
cleaning and somehow the cows had got hold of this poison from the dump
where the trash had been hauled. Andrew covered the trash heap with
a load of dirt and we had no more problem. However, he couldn't see
how we could ever pull out of this financial disaster; especially since
Gordon was in his first year of college. It sometimes annoyed Dad
because I tended to look on the bright side of things instead of worrying.
I tried to cheer him by saying that a year from then we would handily
remember the event. We didn't, because by that time something else had
happened!

I joined the Vans Valley Methodist Church in 1946 and we all
attended there. The Aid and Berkshire Club -- which I had joined”
early in my marriage -- gave me outside interest and I have kept up
with these groups, Andrew and I, along with Floyd and Stella, were
always active in the Harlem Grange. .

The children were growing up and time flew by. Before we knew it
they were in high school. Gordon was always the studious one. He
graduated from Harlem High School in 1937, Beulah in '39, Wendel in '41
and Carlton in '46. Wendell happened to be in school at the time Harlem
had a good basketball coach and he was on the team that won the county
basketball championship two years in succession. Our family was among
Harlem Township's most avid basketball fans. The Harlem Township Ladies
went all out for the team and initiated the "400 Club” banquet to honor
the team and boosters. It was a well-organized affair and food was
solicited from women in the community and brought to the schoolhouse in
large containers; of course some was prepared at the school. Food was
served cafeteria style on the stage and the guests sat at tables down in
the auditorium. The number of guests was limited to 400.

By now, the shadow of World War II was building up; Pearl Harbor
was bombed on December 7, 1941. By 1942, Gordon being in advanced ROTC,
had left OSU and entered the Army as a 2nd Lt. in the Infantry. He was
on the battlefields in the European theater of the war. By some code he

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had managed to elude the censors and get word to us that he was in the
9th Division. Everyday, no matter what we were doing, Andrew and I
would Listen to Cedrik Foster on radio at 2:00 p.m. and in that way
were able to follow all the action of his division. Although our boys
never liked to dwell on sordid matters of war, Gordon did tell us once
that for 9 days, he and his company were pinned down at the Rhine
River without food and water except for their C rations. Gordon took
sick and was sent behind the lines to recover but nine days later he
was back in the fighting. During this illness my nephew, Delman Buel,
who was stationed just 40 miles away, went to visit Gordon and wrote
home to his folks that it didn't look to him like Gordon was going to
recover. I didn't know about this illness until after the war. Gordon
was advanced to the rank of captain and was due for promotion to major
when the war ended. Wendell enlisted in 1943 and was in the South
Pacific operations as medic in the 42nd Division of the Army Medical
Corps performing a vital service in helping care for the stricken
soldiers. He and other workers would volunteer to crawl out onto the
battlefield to bring in the wounded, ofttimes scrambling over bodies
that had been dead for 2 on 3 days in that humid heat! The medics
would give the injured soldiers a shot or whatever to try to ease their
pain before moving them into the medical stations. These were days of
great anxiety and stress for those of us at home. There was much per-
sonal sadness in the country although there was economical prosperity.
We were among the lucky ones: our boys came back unharmed. After the
war, Wendell suffered a tragedy. He and his fiancee, Martha Burrell of
Johnstown, were in a taxi in Columbus on their way to a movie when they
were involved in an auto accident which took her life.

In the winter of '49, I passed the time drawing up plans or re-
modeling our house. Andrew and I decided to go ahead with the project
then if ever we were going to do it since we had discussed it for so
long. We agreed on one of the designs and by the following year,
carpenters Charles Rhinehart and Leonard Utley, along with Carlton,
were busily transforming our house into a modern, attractive dwelling .
The work was pretty well along during this bitterly cold winter of '50-
'51 when we had several bad snowstorms. One severe snowstorm started
just before Thanksgiving -- adding more snow on top of snow -~ and this
snow lasted through Christmas. It is easy to pinpoint this date because
at the time, Wendell was working in Medina as a county agent and he had
planned to bring his date, Many Newberry also of Medina, to a Thanksgiving
dinner-dance at Ohio State University. That day they had gone to
Columbus and purchased the tickets and corsage and then come back to
our house to wait until time to go. Meanwhile all the elements turned
loose and they were stormstaid in our topsy-turvy, being-remodeled house,
where all the furniture was stored upstairs and the downstairs was bare
with no curtains, blinds or carpet in readiness for the floor sander.
We had gone to bed when about midnight Russ Guinther, the Harem Ag
teacher, pounded on our door. Several cars were stuck in snow drifts
in the dip between our house and Albert Garee's (where Hugh Buel now
lives). The boys got up to help but before we knew what was happening,
our bare rooms had come alive with 17 stranded strangers! We brought

Patterns of My Life (18)

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down chairs for them and fed them cocoa and cookies all night. One
young woman had frosted feet, and over the protests of her mother, I
soaked her feet in a bucket of ice water and then wrapped them in a
warm blanket and managed to get her thawed out. One Kentucky family
consisting of a man, his wife, three children, and his mother-in-law
might be there yet if his mother-in-law hadn't prodded him constantly
to get out and try to move the car. He liked it in the warm!

By mid-winter the house was finished and we were all delighted
with the results. Then we rushed to get straightened up to a semblance
of normal living before Christmas so Carlton could enjoy it before he
had to leave on Dee. 28, 1950. The United States once more was mixed
up in a war; this time in Korea. Carlton was involved in this conflict
for four years although not on the battlefield as he was a crypto-
technician for the Air Force. He was in the air a great deal traveling
from post to post as he maintained the crypto machines. This was secret
governmental work. Due to the nature of his job, Carlton knew within
16 minutes about Senator Robert Taft's death, when the message came
through on the cryptograph.

To the able survivors, the wars were a blessing in disguise because
they derived certain benefits as a reward for their sacrifices. On the
G.I. Bill, the veterans were entitled to continue their educations. The
two older boys were quick to take advantage of this opportunity and
returned to OSU to earn their degrees. After receiving his bachelor's
degree, Gordon taught agriculture at Bryan High School and in Washington,
C.H.; meanwhile going to school nights to get his Master's degree.
Later, when his youngest child Larry was two, Gordon moved his family to
Columbus and then he worked full time on his Doctorate in Agronomy at
OSU. He is now a Research Specialist in Agronomy for Ohio State
University. Wendell, also at a later date -- after working 18 years -as.
district salesman for Ralston Purina in Albion, Mich. -- earned his
Master's degree in Dairy Husbandry at Michigan State University. He is
employed at the Iowa State University as a Livestock Specialist. Beulah
graduated as an accountant from office training school. She is assistant
credit investigator at Sears Roebuck in Columbus. Carlton is doing what
he loves most -- farming (the home place). Being versatile, he also
enjoys selling real estate for Forman Realtors of Sunbury and working
in the office of the Delaware County Engineer in the courthouse. Having
settled in this area and it being along the Lines of his interests, it
became Carlton's lot to follow in the tradition of his Buel ancestors;
he is now vice-president of the Hartford Fair Board. Since my great-
grandfather Joshua Buel helped organize the Fair in 1857 and was its
first president, I believe there has always been a Buel connection on
the Board, including Dad's nephew Frank Buel, my husband Andrew, brother
Floyd Buel, and now my son, Carlton's boy, Mark, is a potential. He
exhibits livestock at this Fair, just as my boys did and last year he
designed the gateway-arch memorial to commemorate the Thomas Evans 47-
acre addition to the Fairgrounds. The Board has great plans in mind for
the near future as they develop this wooded area into a camping facility,
picnic grounds with shelter houses, a pond, saw mill complete with a
demonstrating sawyer, and various other interesting exhibits to keep this

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county fair an up and coming attraction.

Beulah was our first child to be married and she has the largest
family. She and Vance Myers of Columbus wed in 1943 and they live in
Columbus where he works for Borden's. Their first child, Cheryl (Mrs.
Frank Swartz) finished earning her degree in education after marriage;
Rodney (married to Mischlene Conreaux) is a barber by profession;
Beverly (Mrs. Robert Lee) works at OSU as a secretary; Debbie, a high
school graduate last year, is a Huntington Bank employee; and then there's
Robert who is in the sixth grade.

Gordon married Betty Randolph of Oklahoma City in 1946 and they
also live in Columbus. They have two children: JoAnn (Mrs. Daniel
Daugherty) who earned a degree in Home Economics; and Larry, who is
married to Linda Ricker. Larry's major was Agriculture and he works as
a field representative for Landmark.

Wendell and Mary Newberry of Medina were married in 1952 and they
have four offspring: Jordon Andrew, who is a senior at Iowa State
majoring in Forestry; Jeffery, a sophomore at the University of Iowa;
David, a sophomore in high school; and Many E. who is now a 7th grader.

Carlton and Beverly Bauchert of Johnstown joined forces in 1955
and three children bless their home: Jon, who is in his 1st year at
Ohio State; Mark, a freshman in high school; and Mike, a 4th grader.

And so the grandchildren are getting pretty well grown up.

On November 15, 1957, Andrew lost his left arm in a hunting accident.
He suffered much from this trauma and was troubled terribly with phantom
pain. This was his greatest trial and he was never quite the same
afterward. About 20 years prior to this accident, Andrew had fallen
off a hay wagon and injured his back so that he had to wear a brace and
could not do heavy work or lifting after that. This also caused him much
discomfort. (And so with these combined disabilities, Andrew sold the
cows and went into semi-retirement.) This left us free to do some things
we had wanted to do. I was determined that the rocking chair wouldn't
get us! For two winters we flew down to Florida to Oneco where we rented
a cottage from Pearly and Louise Stockwell. While in Florida we did
some sightseeing. We went to see the Thomas A. Edison Birthplace Museum
in Ft, Myers, the beautiful Cypress Gardens, drove along the east and
west coasts, visited West Palm Beach, and watched the new cities of Cape
Coral and the Golden City being developed and the lots being readied for
real estate projects. The warm southern climate and the altered routine
was a welcome change in pace. With our extra leisure time we enjoyed
visiting our friends, participating in Grange activities and the Senior
Citizen group in Harlem Township of which Floyd was president.

Dad and I celebrated our golden wedding anniversary in September,
1966 by holding open house in our own home. Coming to greet us were 175
friends and relatives. It was exhilarating to us both to see old-time
schoolmates, old friends as well as new, and relatives. We all had such

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a good time reminiscing and catching up on current events. For our
45th anniversary, Andrew and I had hosted a family dinner at the Mar-
Jon Inn in Berkshire. Mrs. Spangler prepared a delectable meal for us
on that occasion. It was a great day, but, of course, the 50th
anniversary climaxed it. Wendell was our photographer for these events.

In March of that same year, I had a health crisis, I was operated
for breast cancer and was one of the lucky ones who caught it in time.
Previous to this by four years I had gotten surgery. I feel fine now
and only mention it in the possibility it might encourage someone else
faced with similar problem.

The greatest sorrow in my life came when I lost my Andrew October 15,
1968. He had only been ill 2 two weeks and we had not realized the
seriousness of his illness, so I was not prepared to give him up. He
had gone in for prostate surgery and then he needed a second operation
for bladder problems, Following the second surgery a blood clot settled
on the brain paralyzing him. He lived three days in this unconscious
condition.

I endured two years of loneliness and grief while trying to adjust
to this new pattern when I received a most welcome invitation. Word
came from my granddaughter Cheryl Swartz, who was living in England with
her husband (a pilot in the U.S. Air Force), that she would like me to
come over to be with her when their first child was born. Since her
mother Beulah was unable to go due to a heart condition, after a great
deal of discussion and preparation I flew over. My first great-grandchild
Melanie Delane arrived on April 17, 1970. While over in England, the
Swartzs took me sightseeing there, and then on my own I took a tour.
There were 48 people on the bus besides the driver and courier and we
all got pretty well acquainted, I was the oldest in the group (74).
We enjoyed seeing the people, scenes and customs of England, France,
Germany, Italy, Belgium, Austria, and Switzerland. Mr. and Mrs. Gordon
Lee of Alberta, Canada became very good chums of mine; also a Mrs. Jo
Orgnek of Portland, Oregon. I later learned that Mr. Lee died just a
week after our excursion while visiting his cousin in England.

This safari greatly enriched my life and satisfied a secret yen
I'd had for travel. Before Andrew's retirement, we had been pretty much
tied down with the cows so our vacation times were Limited. However,
he and I did visit the Randolphs in Oklahoma City with Gordon and Betty.
While there, we saw the Will Rogers Museum and other points of interest
and then we went to Hot Springs, Arkansas where we saw the Quartz Mines.
We took a bus trip up into the mountains. This was in 1949. Shortly
after Beulah and Vance were married, we went with them to Niagara Falls
and then up into Canada traveling on the Queen's Highway. It was there
I had my first introduction to English cooking. We were served Spinach
and spaghetti which had been cooked together. Blah! Since then I've
regarded the English as being poor cooks, generally speaking, and my stay
in England in 1970 did not change my opinion. A couple of years after
the Canada trip, we again traveled with the Myers’ and went to the Smoky

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Mountains. Also we visited Wendell's family in Michigan several times.
Andrew seemed to enjoy these trips.

Floyd liked adventure but Stella did not like to get too far from
home. Their youngest child Kenny (who incidentally helped his mother
make medical history as she was 48 when he was born) moved to the old
home place after his marriage and Floyd and Stella moved down the road
to a smaller farm. After Stella's death in 1964, it was therapy for
Floyd to travel. He took several excursions. It was on a Mediterranean
Cruise a few years later that he met his second wife, Mary Christenson
of Cincinnati. They were married in June, 1967, and enjoyed several
tours during their years together before he passed away because of a
heart attack in December, 1973. My good friend Mary has since returned
to her home in Cincinnati and resumed her way of life and friendships
in the big city which was all she had known until she married Floyd and
moved onto his farm, She fit in so beautifully with his life style,
friends, and rural interests.

In the spring of 1973, word again came from Cheryl that she needed
me to care for Melanie when their second child came along. So once
again I jetted out, this time to Phoenix, Arizona, and was on hand when
Michelle DeOne came to the Swartz home April 18, just 3 years and 1 day
after her sister. Again I was taken sightseeing around this area and
met many of their interesting friends.

The end of '73 found me out visiting Wendell and Mary and their
family in Dubuque, Iowa. Usually I go out there once a year and they
come here that often. Frequently I go spend a weekend or a few days
with Gordon and Betty in Columbus. Of course I see Carlton every day
since he farms this place and I drop in their house in Sunbury about
once a week. Beulah and I chat on the phone every day. Two of her
children, Rodney and Beverly, came and lived with me for a year or so
after they graduated because they love the country. It was while living
here that Beverly broke her pelvic bone riding a horse just six weeks
before her wedding, but she never missed a step walking down the church
aisle! Sometimes I spend a weekend with Rodney and Misch and she always
gives me my permanents.

JoAnn Daugherty, Gordon and Betty's daughter, presented me with my
first great-grandson, Bryan Patrick, in January, 1971 and then with a
great-granddaughter when dear little Theresa Rene was born two years
later.

Since being alone I have joined some more clubs: The Friendly
Neighbors of Center Village and the Harlem Township Arts and Crafts
Home Demonstration Group. In the spring of ‘71 I accompanied the Delaware
County Demonstration Clubs on a three-day trip, Ken Feasel drove the
bus load of 38 women to Washington, D.C., Williamsburg and Norfolk, Va.
and we all had a lot of fun. In August of '72, I went with a bus load
of Sunbury people to Chillicothe where we enjoyed the drama, "Tecumseh."
If at all possible, I take advantage of such opportunities when they are
of interest to me.

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In May of this year ('74), Beulah underwent her second open-
heart surgery to replace a valve. This time she got along much better
and it was not quite such an ordeal as the first operation was about
five years ago when her calcium-coated valve was repaired. This last
operation was successful although the doctor has trouble keeping her
heart in rhythm, Cheryl and her kiddies came from Utah to be near her
mother during her recuperation. We had several family get-togethers
during Cheryl's three-week stay here.

On August 20 of this year, I embarked on a many-faceted adventure
which involved four different airlines: TWA, Western, American, and
Ozark. The first leg of the journey was a visit in Denver, Colorado
with my granddaughter JoAnn and her husband, Dan, and their children
Bryan and Tracy. They familiarized me with the scenic wonders of that
area. One day we went up to Mt. Evans which is almost as high as Pike's
Peak. From Denver I few to Phoenix on August 27 where I joined a
group for a Tauck bus "Tour of the Canyons." Words cannot describe the
beauty of the canyons -- the gorgeous colors and the unusual rock
formations such as the cathedral spires and the chess men were impressive
to me. Other interesting features of this trip were Arizona University,
Heard Museum, Kaibab National Forest, Lake Powell, Mormon country, Zion
National Park, Hoover Dam, Rainbow Bridge, Bryce Canyon, the boat trip
at Glenn Canyon Dam, our posh motels and menus from which we could order
$14.00 dinners if we desired. Oh, yes, we spent overnight at Las Vegas,
the entertainment capital of the world! We saw a floor show and it was
fun to watch other people win and lose at the gambling tables. The group
on the bus were all congenial and had gathered in from all over the
country. Again, at age 78, I was the oldest person aboard. Of all the
canyons, my favorite was Bryce Canyon. Indeed this tour was all the
brochure touted it to be!

Having completed this segment of my journey, it was with high
expectations I headed toward Salt Lake City on Tuesday, September 3,
where the Swartzs met me at the airport. Cheryl had written so enthusi-
astically of the beauties there and said she was eager to show me around.
So I was dumbfounded to find her so listless and passive; a far cry from
her usual vivacious personality. After we arrived at her house, I sat
down on the sofa and Cheryl came and sat beside me to visit. Almost
immediately she fell over asleep. Her doctor advised us to bring her
into the hospital for tests as he had been treating her for a chronic
ailment. However, to his utter dismay and ours, her condition rapidly
worsened and in spite of having the best doctors and the best of care,
we lost this dear young wife and mother on September 14, 1974 at the age
of 28. Her ailment was diagnosed as a frontal brain tumor which was
inoperable. No one even knew she was seriously ill and we doubt if she
suspected. Her only symptoms seemed to be drowsiness, listlessness, and
terrible headaches (which she kept secret from the family) until she went
into the hospital.

This latest heartbreak has been an awful blow to me because Cheryl
was my first grandchild and we were always close. However, beyond my

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grief is my concern for her little ones who are aged 4 and 16 months and
for their daddy who has this burden to bear. We are all standing by
to help in whatever way we can. Frank was able to get a transfer to
Dayton Air Base so at least the children are nearer to us. He is
determined to keep his family together and I am sure he will manage
somehow.

I was spending the weekend of October 13, 1974 at the home of Rod
and Misch's when I took ill with sort of an unusual heaviness in my
chest. They took me to Riverside Hospital where the doctors diagnosed
it as being a light heart attack. I spent almost six weeks in Riverside
Hospital under observation and am still recuperating at Gordon's and
Carlton's houses hoping soon to be in my own home.

Through the years with the depressions, hardships, wars, illnesses,
accidents, joys and sorrows, at age 78 I realize there is still the
God-given sunshine that comes through after the stillness of night
and the clouds of day. The love for my children, grandchildren and
great-grandchildren will give me a busy, happy life to keep up with
so many as God provides my strength.

I hope to add many more chapters to my story as time goes on!

Hazel (Buell) Ryder

Life Long Resident of Harlem Twp.
Born May 5, 1896 - died June 1, 1979
Husband Andrew L. Ryder, Berkshire Twp.

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Early vital records of the first Buels

William Buell (Bewell) a Welshman

born 1610 in Chester, England, settled at Windsor, Conn.
in 1630.. His children were :

Samuel 1713 ~ 1790 - A Minute Man
Mary
Peter
Hannah
Hepzibah
Sarah
Abigail.

Samuel's son, Peter, married Martha Coggins and Peter's son,
Samuel, 1742 — 1819 of Westfula, Mass., was a lieutenant 1776

Joshua Hamilton Buel, son of Grover, orphaned at age 6, in Schen-
ectady, N. Y., made his home with Deacon Trahoun. Joshua's first
suit made from his father's red coat (etc.) as his father was a
general for the British in War of 1812. In 1834, at age 55, Joshua
left N.Y. and came to Ohio. He helped organize the Hartford Fair
Society in 1857 and was its 1st president. 2 years later as vice
president of the Hartford Agriculture Society, he helped acquire
25 acres of land from Tabor Sharp for the sum of $500. ($20. per
acre) at $25.00 yearly for 20 years. To Joshua and Lucy Gear
Buel were born Kate Buel Hunt, Edwin Arlten Buel, Mudson P.
Joshua, Jr.(Jott), and Lucy Buel Johnson. Joshua, 1779 ~ 1883.

Patterns of My Life (25)

Corresponds to back cover of Patterns of My Life by Hazel Buel Ryder