SHOPTALK: On the shoptop this week is a patch from Daisy Homitz’s bowling shirt that her son, Frank, donated to the museum some time ago.
Daisy (of course) worked for Wakefield. And somewhere I have a newspaper pic taken of her working at the plant. Later she worked for GM in Elyria. And for a time she had a little eatery on Liberty where Paul’s Snack Shop was once located. Today it’s some sort of Crystal gift shop.
Later still Daisy moved to Florida and worked several jobs. One of them was for the State of Florida was at a toll road tollbooth. She passed away in Florida in 2003 at the age of 87.
Only the good die young.
On my home desk this week is my newest promo flyer for the museum. It was (and is) my intent to make it as simple as possible.
Many people are under the misapprehension that that the museum is only an old print shop museum. But the truth of the matter is that it is much more than that. Those who visit this website or the Facebook site will immediately recognize this fact. And perhaps they will visit and see some of these things in person.
WORKING ON THE RAILROAD: This past week the railroad crossing on Grand Street has been close for repairs. In weeks previous the same amount of work was being done on the Main Street crossing. It’s a noisy process and it very likely eliminates walk-ins at the museum.
I was thinking, however, that if they’d closed the Grand Street crossing instead of one of the others in town it might not have been such a bad thing.
But that’s pie-in-the-sky dreaming on my part.
My New Digs
MOVING: Moving our household (however slowly) still isn’t fun. Wife Georgi moved one of our cats Tuesday afternoon. She was a piece of cake. She trusts my wife so much she likes to ride with her in her car. But our other cat (?) he wasn’t so easy.
We tried to get him into our new carrier and he fought like a big ol’ demon (such as he is). So I stayed home Tuesday night with hopes he’d take up residence in the carrier with his food - but no dice.
I’d just about given up when I had an aha moment. (It occurred to me that cats like to climb into paper bags)I went into the garage, got one of those big yard waste bags, opened it, placed it on the floor near the kitchen and went about my business.
When I heard the bag rattling I knew I had him. I scooped him up in the bag, jumped into my truck and drove him to our new home.
It worked like a charm, except I can’t find him now. So I’ve moved on to setting up our TV.
Yikes! And double Yikes! I don’t like moving.
NEW EMAIL ADDRESS:F.Y.I. A new email address for me at the club is: firstname.lastname@example.org.
MUSEUM SCHEDULE: Beginning now the museum will
be open six days a week from 11 AM to 3 PM. We will be closed on Sundays and Holidays. We are located at 727 Grand Street in Vermilion across the street from Vermilion's historic E&R Church. The museum is open Monday thru Saturday
from 11 AM to 3 PM. A small admission donation of $5 (for adults) is requested. Children under 14 accompanied with an adult will be admitted free.
We are closed on Sundays and holidays.
Private tours during those hours and during the evening can be arranged by calling the museum, or stopping in to see us.
FIVE-OH-ONE-CEE-THREE: The museum is a 501(c)(3) organization. Consequently, all donations and memberships for the museum are tax deductible. This is retroactive to November of 2011.
Memberships for the VERMILION NEWS PRINT SHOP MUSEUM are always available. Funds generated will go toward the aforementioned renovations and maintenance of the shop.
A single membership for an adult is $15 a year. A couple membership is $25 a year. A student membership is $5. And a lifetime membership is $100.
ADMISSION - ADULTS $5.00 and young people under the age of 14
If you would like to become a member the VNPSM you can send a check or money order to:
Vermilion Print Shop Museum 727 Grand Street Vermilion, Ohio 44089 440.967.4555. Cell:440.522.8397
LIKE US ON FACEBOOK:Take the time to visit us on Facebook. Click on the badge below and stop in. We'll keep adding pix as we go along. If you're in the area come on in. I try to be there in the a.m. most everyday. If you see a Chevy Silverado in the drive with the plate "MRCOOKR" stop by and
see what's cooking.
GREAT STUFF INDEED: On Thursday I received the following communiqué:
”Rich, I happened to come across an old Vermilion Views from 2008:
‘Butch’ and Sharon (Jessie) are my brother and sister. I was the youngest of the Stark gang (born 1949). As an update, Sharon is still living out west (New Mexico) and Butch (Al) died of a heart attack in 2002. He was living in Louisville, KY at the time. I remember the Shafts well and certainly remember sneaking over to the pop factory to grab an orange soda. I always loved Vermilion and visit as often as I can.
Thanks for the memories
Along with the pic (above) this is what he was referring to:
OHIO STREET KIDS: This snap may have appeared in "Views" before. It is courtesy of Milanite Dale Hohler whose Uncle and Aunt, Larry and Margaret (Tansey) Shafts, were both prominent Vermilionites.
Once upon a time Mr. Shafts owned a home several doors east of Vermilion's St. Mary's Catholic Church on Ohio Street. He also owned the Vermilion Bottling Company - Vermilion's own pop factory.
These shadows were captured c.1949 near the aforementioned Ohio Street pop factory and home. Pictures are Larry & David Hohler & Butchy & Sharon Stark. The Stark home can be seen in the background.
Larry and David are (of course) Mr. Shaft's nephews and Dale's brothers. Some folks will recognize Larry for his work with Hope Childrens Home in Kenya.
And some folks will also remember Butch and Sharon Stark. Their family later had a farm on Thompson Road in Vermilion Township. The barn on their farm had a real nice basketball court on the second floor. It was, to say the very least, unique.
I'm not sure where Butch Stark is today. I believe that Sharon (that may no longer be her first name) lives out west. Every now and then I hear something of her.
Great stuff! Great memories!
THE OLYMPIC CLUB: I opted for this Now and Then pic of the Olympic Outing Club this week mainly because it’s where we’re currently living so it was the most convenient place for me to grab a now photo.
The old photo was taken in 1937 during Vermilion’s Centennial celebration. It’s a detailed pic that because of the size on this page is a bit hard to see in detail. But it was taken in the club’s grove near Sloppy Joe’s bar – facing the Vermilion River.
The new pic is only approximate. (As I’ve indicated the old one makes the detail difficult to see.) The lady in the new pic has Olympian Nancy Dorsey see to one of her flower baskets about the club. Nancy and her husband Jeff live in Florida during the winter. But in the warmer months they – along with their many brothers, sisters and other relatives make up a hefty portion of the club. They’re great people.
The club, founded in 1902, is very much a part of local history. And its many members are true blue Vermilionites.
THE NEW ROAD: This aerial photograph of the west side of Vermilion Village is not extremely old. It may be c. 1950. (It should be noted that c./circa means that the date given is approximate as opposed to being specific). Due to the fact that this is also a winter photo, and the trees are bare, it is all the more interesting. In this particular instance it was also very useful.
As most folks already know Ohio Route(s) #6 and #2 (a.k.a. Shore Road; Lake Road; Liberty Avenue) was, for perhaps some 50 years, the main thoroughfare to, through, and from Vermilion for all the auto, bus, and truck traffic that travelled along the southern Lake Erie coast through northern Ohio. The road was, in a word, busy.
After the demise of the Lake Shore Electric rail system in 1938, and the increased popularity of the automobile as the primary and preferred mode of transportation this main highway became even busier. As fate would have it the early roads upon which this traffic had to travel were not designed to accommodate that type of traffic. When they were created they fell upon a more natural course. Like water they followed the channel of least resistance. A road course designed for wagons and buggies being towed by one or two horses is not automatically suited for heavy steel machines powered by an engine equal to 200 or 300 horses.
In the Village of Vermilion, Ohio this was no more apparent then the course the road ran on the west side of town. The road was easy to follow until it reached the corner of Decatur Street (heading west). At that point the road abruptly turned south toward the steam railroad tracks. Then just before the tracks it, again, took an abrupt turn to the right and headed west. This was not an “S” curve. These were corners that required complete turns.
There were no traffic lights and no stop signs on these corners (although there may very well have been a single blinking light on Liberty at the intersection where the road turned south on Decatur and ran toward the railroad tracks). But even so, negotiating these corners required that one pay serious attention to the road and the arrows on the signs at the corners. Unfortunately, that was not always the case.
Usually it was the east bound traffic coming into town that had problems negotiating the turns. The speed limit coming from the east toward the turn onto Decatur Street was probably lowered from 60 mph to 20 mph some distance before crossing Edson Creek - but I think we all know how that goes. And many an unsuspecting motorist had the misfortune of abruptly parking their car or truck through the showroom window of Kyle Motors (now Vermilion’s Municipal Court). At one point in time Mr. Kyle built a concrete post to protect the gas tanks in front of his garage. The likelihood of more people missing the turns at either corner were as predictable as rain in the springtime. If was not a matter of if, but of when.
Finally, with a great deal of encouragement from Vermilion Village representatives, the state decided that it would be a good idea to build a new section of highway from Decatur Street westward, just past the city limits, to eliminate the problem. Moreover; the new section of highway would be a divided highway. The reason for that choice is unclear. However; at about the same time this was being done so too was the divided highway between Vermilion and Lorain being built. It may be that it was the intent of the State to turn the entire length of Lake Road into what was then perceived to be a modern highway system using the existing roadways.
In any case, this is the reason that one might hear many old-time residents of Vermilion refer to the divided highway on the west side of our pretty city as “The New Road”. That it, most assuredly, is.
Ref: The Vermilion News photo archive; and the Vermilion Area Archival Society; Publlished in the Vermilion Photojournal 03/30/2006.
YESTERYEAR'S NEWS: The following clips were vocally transcribed from past issues of The Vermilion News. I think you will find them both interesting and fun...
Vol. XII, No.11. - VERMILION, OHIO, THURSDAY, August 20, 1908
WANT TO WAIT RAISE TRACKS
The L.S. & M.S. Ry, Ask the Village Council to Allow Them to Do So
The Village Council met at the Town Hall Monday evening to consider the matter of allowing the Lake Shore Road to raise their tracks through the village.
In order to better get at the matter the citizens were asked to meet with the Council and railroad officials and discuss the situation. Less than 50 were present and probably half a dozen expressed their views on the subject.
The track is to be raised from 5 to 8 inches according to the request and with it will undoubtedly damage property and also make a difference in crossing grades.
Some of the citizens present expressed their views as being against the raising of the track; the settlement seems pretty strong in this. Others think we, as a village, should get a reasonable amount of work on crossings approaches, placing them in first-class condition and grading in such a manner that the approaches will be easy. A few would attach other conditions, the opening of Exchange Street and the opening of Adams street.
It was finally agreed that the counselor would go over the ground Tuesday afternoon with railroad officials and see what could be done.
Tuesday afternoon was spent in viewing the streets. On some of the streets it was deemed advisable from Macadamize to the next street paralleling the railroad or nearly so in order to make an easy grade. The work at Decatur street would necessitate considerable grading on account of the hill on the Lake Shore Road. The Council then postponed the matter until evening and again met with citizens to formulate a problem proposition to the company.
At this meeting the grading and macadamizing of several streets was placed in the form of a proposition, with the distance to which the work should extend, etc. The officials present refused to have anything to do with the opening of Exchange or Adams streets.
Everything seemed to be moving smoothly until the railroad representatives objected to the work suggested on Sandusky and Decatur streets, also to the arbitration of damages to property owners along the right-of-way of the railroad. They however suggested that the matter be referred to the company. It was finally proposed to send the proposition to the railroad company for their approval or acception [sic] or rejection, and the clerk was ordered to do so. And here the matter rests.
The company wish to ballast their tracks with stone and therefore wish to make this raise, otherwise the gravel will have to be removed to the required depth and replaced with the stone.
The company wish to make a "dustless" roadbed and also gain speed. About the only advantage the town will derive from this will be a decrease in the amount of dust. The noise will be there, also the smoke and disagreeable odors. While we are not prepared to give all the provisions of the proposal to the company, it is to get some return for what the road people want, and also redress intended for damages to property owners without litigation.
The men at work on the ballasting had reached the East river road, Wednesday. But nothing had been heard from the company up to the time of going to the past.
A SQUARE DEAL
Ray W. Washburn is in receipt of draft for $30.85 said amount being settlement of claim filed July 28th, for injuries received on July 4, last. Apropos the subject of promptness in meeting obligations of this nature. This speaks well for the Woodman Accident Association of Lincoln, Neb., with whom Mr. Washburn is insured.
NO GRAFTERS FOR BIRMINGHAM
The Village of Birmingham is taking no chances with the evils that go with the American system of government and has hit upon a plan for securing of improvements for the town that makes the grafters looks sick.
Wishing to enjoy gas sewers, pavements, waterworks and other advantages of unincorporated town, the village has organized a private corporation for the securing of these improvements known as the Birmingham Improvement Company. The company is not organized for profit and has a charter similar to those granted to churches and cemetery associations.
The company has power to do all the things, which seem to be needed to make the village a more desirable place of residence but only taxpayers are to be allowed to buy stock in it. The first step will be to secure natural gas service. – EX.
AN AUTO RIDE
Rev. Lohmann and daughter Mabel and son Fred, Rev. Brown and wife, and son Paul went to Tiffin Monday in Rev. Lohmann's automobile and returned Tuesday. They had a delightful time en route and while there Rev. Brown preached three years in Tiffin, and while there the entire party was well cared for by friends and former parishioners.
[NOTE: Methinks someone made a typesetting error in this piece. I doubt that Rev. Brown “preached three years” during this visit.
The change in Assistant Superintendent Seat of the Ohio Quarries has been made in which Jacob Dock assistant to Superintendent Sanderson, has resigned, and H. E. Adams has taken his place.
The funeral of William Wenzel was held Wednesday morning at the St. Joseph's church. It was attended by a large number of friends and relatives. The interment was in Saint Joseph’s Cemetery south of town.
Rev. English was robbed last Wednesday of about 40 young broilers and 10 old hens. Entrance was gained by tearing off pickets in the rear. The thieves were tracked to Quigley's corners, where it was found a team had been hitched to the fence for some time.
John Balbach surprised his father M. J. Balbach one evening last week by his presence. He has been absent for 12 years, having enlisted in the U.S. cavalry. He is at present located at Fort Leavenworth, Kan. Mr. Balbach has married and has a family of three children.
Born – to Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Bodman, August 13th, a daughter.
Born – to Mr. and Mrs. Frank Benzok, Monday, a baby boy.
The school board held an adjournment meeting Tuesday evening in all business preparatory to the starting of school September 7, was settled up.
One of the men at the East quarry by the name of Wm Scott met with a bad accident while trying to separate some flagging with a heavy bar. The bar slipped and falling he struck his head on a sharp corner of the stone cutting a deep gash over the left eye. Fortunately the eye was not injured.
Asa Broughton is on the sick list.
Born – to Mr. and Mrs. George Edgar, a son, August 6th.
Mr. Carrie of Oberlin a piano tuner was in town Wednesday.
Mrs. Lulu Schomacher and son of Napoleon are visiting her aunt, Mrs. Thompson.
Will Sanders was called to his brother’s at Henrietta to assist in caring for their father who is quite sick.
A local option election will be held in Berea August 24. The town has been "dry" for 20 years.
What's the matter with having a Vermilion Day at Cedar point or Put-in-Bay?
The tugs Driscoll and Sloat of Kishman Fish Co’s have arrived home from Fairport and all boats will be home for a few days. While the fishing down the lake is fair there is a scarcity of ice in which to pack the fish. At Vermilion there also promises to be a scarcity although there is probably enough to last until cold weather. Fishing from this port is reported very good.
A reunion of the Baumhart families being held at the Park today.
The 10-year-old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Stowe Lorain was bitten by a dog Wednesday, while walking on Broadway in that city.
A foreigner hailing from Toledo reported that he was attacked by thugs near Decker’s coal sheds last Friday night and robbed. He claimed to have a wife in five children at Toledo.
Joshua Phelps left some extra fine blackberries at the NEWS office Wednesday. They were very large and of excellent flavor. Mrs. Phelps is evidently an expert Barry grower.
Mr. Ed Huessner is improving his farm by placing a new fence around it.
The farmers at this point are disappointed on account of not having any rain and are unable to plow for their fall crops.
A Bird Dog white in color with brown spots on head in hip came to the residents of Leimbach's. The owner can have the same by communication with Mr. V. Leimbach
The public in general seems to be taking too much liberty of late in trespassing in other people's property and not only taking berries, but becoming very abusive when ordered off. We give Mrs. Wellman great credit for the part she took him having one of the heavy jumpers (as we call them) fined $15, and if some of the others received the same dose it would learn them to observe the that old proverb: "What is worth while taking is worth while asking for."
HARD TIMES, PART 5
Mary Wakefield Buxton
In spite of my great job with the airlines, I was lonely those working years in Cleveland, 1961-63, and unable to find a man that was right for me. We must try our best to find a mate and yet I couldn’t seem to make a good connection or, as this process is called, “fall in love.” This was something that Mother kept reminding me was the most important part of a woman’s life because it led to marriage and family which she believed were the ultimate goals for happiness and fulfillment in life for women.
Once one leaves the college scene, where single men in one’s age group are everywhere, it is quite hard to find a suitable date. I hoped to “fall in love” but I didn’t seem to take to any of the men I met in those years.
A serious problem was that I grew up so close to my father. I adored my father, to me he could do no wrong, and no man that I had ever met could possibly compare with him so, why should I even bother to try to find someone if I already knew such a man would only be second best?
But, at Mother’s urging, she seemed to know quite a bit about such things, I kept trying to find the man with which I could marry and spend the rest of my life. Every Friday night I would walk across the street from the Hanna Building after work to the “Purple Tree,” a popular bar at the fashionable Hollenden Hotel where all Cleveland singles gathered for a TGIF drink fest. Alcohol was as big then as today, maybe even more so because we did not have the drugs that are so readily available today, but the main difference was, in those days, no one ever checked my ID.
Somehow in this garish, nightmarish swarm of suited bodies jammed together in an alcoholic frenzy, I finally met a geekish, brainy man that wore thick glasses and spoke in sentences rich in fragments of poetry. Father was always quoting Shakespeare, Browning, Wordsworth or Kipling to me so I thought this an encouraging sign. Perhaps this was the one for me. But after a few dates with him, I discovered I liked his friend better.
The friend, however, had a permanent melancholic look, he reminded me of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, which greatly attracted me…yet Mother had always said I was never any good at picking out appropriate men (she certainly would not have counted a Hamlet type in such a category even though her daughter certainly would have.)
So, I started dating this chronically sad man and, sure enough, several weeks later I heard his devastating story that came spilling forth one evening like bad news always does. Like Hamlet, he had lost his kingdom as he had recently lost his parents and sister in a tragic automobile accident and was now totally alone in the world. I could not even imagine such horror. He was so traumatized by this event that he could barely function each day. His depression may have originated from good cause but I knew my situation was not strong enough to gamble with such a fragile man. I was having enough trouble staying upbeat without such a man in my life. I moved on hoping Mr. Right would be the next man I would meet.
About that time I met an older, extraordinarily handsome man that looked exactly like Paul Newman. I was not attracted to “Hollywood handsome” men, I far preferred intelligent men who had the look of depth of character, with eyes that demonstrated obvious connection to the brain, so his good looks meant nothing to me. He owned a business in Cleveland and must have thought for some odd stretch of the imagination that I would be a suitable wife for him.
From the start of our relationship, however, I had an uneasy feeling. I was fairly inexperienced with men but I could not help but notice he never kissed me, nor even touched me, nor even took my arm even in such a simple gesture of affection as when we were crossing streets. This seemed very strange. I began to notice he was very different from usual men that so passionately pursued women and made little attempt to hide their one pressing and ultimate goal.
One touchless evening, he suddenly gathered me to him, yet at the same time holding me at arm’s length, and kissed me with tightly closed lips, as if he could barely stand to do so. It was a very odd kiss, a bit like kissing my grandmother. I was stunned. I had never been kissed like that before. Something was very, very wrong. Then, which shocked me even further, he proposed to me.
I did not know anything about homosexuality at age 20, in those days the subject was never mentioned, but I had enough sense to realize this man would not be the right man for me. I thanked him for his proposal but gently turned him down.
Today, I know how very close I might have come to another failed marriage. In those years gay and lesbian men and women had to hide their true sexual orientation. They were forced to live a life of pretense because society would not tolerate differences in sexual behavior from their fellow man. This man may well have wanted me as a token wife so that he could have lived as to what might have appeared to be a “normal” life, a need that is entirely understandable, or perhaps he was trying to please his parents, (which I was also trying hard to do) and perhaps fit better into Cleveland society at that time. It astounds me to think of how much suffering and innately unhappy marriages there must have in those “closet” days of yesteryear. (Thank goodness we have seen a change.)
The next man that came into my life was a tall, slim Czech-American whose family had escaped Czechoslovakia after the communist takeover in 1948. They had lost everything including their homes, businesses, savings and property. He spoke with a thick accent yet had a PhD in chemistry. He had landed a good job with B.F. Goodrich and was earning what was considered in those days a lot of money.
I found myself suddenly admitted into the insular Czech colony in Cleveland. His parents and assortment of relatives were starting up a new business of manufacturing sweaters and other woolens in their home and they barely spoke English. Ivan took me to his home to meet his family who were all working on looms that had been set up in the living room. We stared at each other as if we were from different planets, yet it did not escape me that this is how the Wakefields may have started in Cleveland seeking a new life in America just three generations earlier.
What divided us was much more than language and cultural barriers. Ivan’s family was Catholic and in those days Catholics and Protestants were still a bit wary of each other. Father jokingly thought Catholics were “traitors to the king” even 500 years after Henry V111 made his break with Rome. Many Catholics looked upon Protestants as sinners that were bound for hell. Such attitudes are laughable today, but such feelings were still prevalent in society at that time.
I noticed the Czech women wore babushkas even inside the home. They looked me over as I stood next to their offspring bedecked in my sophisticated Bonwit Taylor dress and high spike heels fashionable at that time and did not try to hide their disapproving eyes. I knew very well they did not like what they saw standing next to their beloved relative. They plainly wanted their son to marry one of his own kind and, what was the use in pretending? I knew that my parents would also have strongly disapproved of Ivan. In those days it was still somewhat difficult for couples from different ethnic and religious groups to inter-marry.
There was another huge problem beyond crossing the English Channel. Once more politics raised its ugly head. Ivan was a devote socialist. He felt passionately since communism was sweeping across the world, the only way to combat it was for nations to convert to socialism. This meant nationalizing all industries and the state providing jobs for everyone, regardless of whether people wanted to work, and all citizens would be assigned a lifetime job at a young age according to their interests or aptitude.
Definitely not my cup of tea. I may have been very young but I already knew I wanted to live as free from government control as possible. Actually, I didn’t want any institution controlling me….government, church, state, university, corporation, employer, parents or…. husband. I wanted to be free to be responsible for myself and totally in charge of my own life! (Later I would learn that drugs, alcohol, tobacco and food addictions were just as controlling and enslaving as institutions.)
This had the markings of another disastrous marriage. For a while I thought perhaps I could ignore politics and just tolerate his left wing views. But Father quickly changed my mind. One weekend I took him to “Slimacres” to meet my family. What a disaster. My parents’ reception of the socialist was rather like an ice storm moving in from the lake. That evening Ivan and Father actually got into a heated argument over which system was better, socialism or capitalism.
I listened for a while then gave up, excused myself, and slipped off to my bedroom. I went to sleep that night hearing my father’s raised voice as he and Ivan battled on and on in the living room. As I fell asleep their voices turned into a distant drone. I knew then I had been defeated. Once again, I had chosen an inappropriate man.
The truth was, I was starting to understand my predicament, I was a lot like Father. He called himself a “rugged individualist” who craved freedom over anything else. I began to see I was very much the same way. Such a person could never marry a socialist as they are on opposite ends of the political spectrum.
I now was well aware that by nature, by genes, I wanted, nay, needed to take big risks in life, I was more than willing to fail and try again, I wanted to succeed and earn money in my lifetime, and I was capable of enduring suffering from the results of my failures if only… if only I could live and work as I wished and be in control of my own life and free from those universal powers in society that meant to control the individual and have done so all throughout the ages.
Once Father told me Englishmen (like all others) had been controlled for centuries by two powers…the church and the state, and had battled long and hard to gain individual freedom. Father traced the beginnings of winning individual freedom to the Magna Carta and later, King Henry’s split with Rome. In later years, when I drove through Mother England, as I entered each village, sure enough, there was the evidence before my very eyes…the local castle where the lord and lady lived and, next to it, the cathedral where all the priests dwelt. Both powers exacted the last ounce of devotion from the little men and women who lived in their domains and had to work hard to scrape and scratch out a decent living.
My father was a creative soul and also had an extreme need for autonomy. Once he told me he loved freedom so much he could barely stand to return to the Vermilion harbor after a day sailing on the lake. (Now that is really extreme need for autonomy.) I knew that my need wasn’t that extreme, but I suspected I also had similar make up and if I married, I would have to find a husband who would let me be myself and do as I wished. I seriously questioned if there would be any man out there in this world that could withstand such a wife, let alone live with such a woman until death do us part. And if there were such a man… then may God bless his very soul!
So, making the right decision, (I knew very well I could ill afford making a second mistake in marriage,) I bid Ivan the Socialist forever farewell and each of us went our own way. More men, just as hopeless for me for one reason or another, as the others, came and departed the stage of the great dating scene, but not one ever truly appealed to me. By now, most of my old classmates from high school and college (women married at a much younger age in those years) had married. Some even had children already. What in the world was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I fall in love like everyone else I knew? What was wrong with me?
Oh, where and how would I ever find my way in life, meet the right man, and how in the world would I ever fit in? What good would my success with my job at the airlines be if I never had the good fortune to fall in love and be married? I was starting to panic. Suppose I would never find the right man? Worse, suppose I made another mistake with marriage and had to suffer through another divorce? Did I dare take such a chance?
I would be 21 soon! I stared at myself in the mirror. Did I already see a grey hair sprouting out from my mop of dark brown curls? Were those tiny wrinkles cracking at the corner of my eyes? Was I looking at the image of a future old maid? Would I just grow old and become someone’s aging eccentric maiden aunt? Did others suffer from the same problems in life? Was I all alone with such dire worries?
And then there was Mother, forever pacing in the background, worried that her second daughter would never find the right man in her life but would be destined to work year after year for her airlines, like an old drudge in Cleveland, Ohio, for the rest of her long, sad and lonely life.
One simply couldn’t find better characters for the novel I would surely sit down and write one day!
A note about the author: Mary Wakefield Buxton is the author of 12 books about love and life in Virginia including her latest novel, “The Private War of William Styron.” She has written a column for 30 years for her hometown newspaper, the Southside Sentinel in Urbanna, Virginia where she lives with her husband, “Chip” and her two beloved spaniels; “Dandy” and “Dasher.
HISTORY OF ERIE COUNTY
51…thus extinguishing the county of Botetourt, which, in fact, never had an organization more than in name.
The next organization of which Erie county at onetime formed a part, was Trumbull, which embraced the whole of the Connecticut Western Reserve. It was erected December 6, 1800, while Ohio was yet territorial land.
Trumbull county now bears no resemblance to its original size or description as by the surrender of her territory to subsequent organizations there now occupies the soil, either in whole or in part, thirteen separate and distinct counties.
The first county erection that called for a surrender of the territory of Trumbull was that of Geauga, under an act passed December 31, 1805, and entitled " An act for the division of Trumbull county."
It has been generally supposed, and by all writers it has been generally conceded that Geauga county originally embraced a part of the Firelands. This may be true, but there exists a serious question as to the fact. The act that brought Geauga county into existence declares "that all that part of the county of Trumbull lying north and east of a line beginning on the east line of said county, on the line between the townships number eight and nine, as known by the survey of said county, and running west on the same to the west line of range number five; thence south on said west line of range five to the northwest corner of township number five, thence west on the north line of township number five, to the middle of the "Cuyahoga River, where the course of the same is northerly; thence up the middle of said river to the intersection of the north line of township number four to the west line of range fourteen, wherever the same shall run when the county west of the Cuyahoga River shall be surveyed into townships or tracts of five miles square each, and thence north to Lake Erie, shall be, and the same is hereby set off and erected into a new county by the name of Geauga."
This misunderstanding unquestionably arises from the fact that by a supplemental act passed February 10, 1807, which declares "That all that part of the Connecticut Western Reserve, which lies west of the Cuyahoga River, and north of the townships numbered four, shall belong to and be a part of the county of Geauga, until the county of Cuyahoga shall be organized," etc.
This implies that Cuyahoga's organization was under way and not perfected and that some disposition must be made of that part of the reserve lands, which was done. The act also provides that the moneys derived from taxes on that land shall be used by the commissioners of Geauga county in "laying out and making roads and erecting bridges within the boundaries of said district west of the Cuyahoga." It will be seen that this attachment was, at best, but temporary and not intended as making the western district a part of Geauga county except for the purpose therein specified.
Portage county was organized February 10, 1807, out of the older county…
HISTORY OF ERIE COUNTY OHIO With Illustrations and Biographical Sketches of Some of Its Prominent Men and Pioneers. Edited by Lewis Cass Aldrich Syracuse, N.Y. - D. Mason & Co., Publishes 1889.
VERMILION ARTIFACT #217
ELLA’S WORK: My mother, Ella G. Roscoe-Tarrant was, among other things, a writer. She wrote new for the paper of course, but she also authored a column she called Yesteryears.
Essentially it chronicled Vermilion’s yesteryears using the weekly’s morgue as reference. Above is her notebook, which began with the January 21, 1954 issue of the News, and apparently outlined activities about town in the year 1899.
She continued with the column until she fell seriously ill around the year 1961-62. After she began to recover she intended to continue. But in June of 1963 she fell ill again, and did not recover. She died at age 57.
I also have several other handwritten histories she wrote. But I’m not 100 percent certain that they were ever published.
When I was very young (pre-school) I can vaguely remember going with her to Elyria and Milan researching some of her stories. At the time I really didn’t understand why she was always talking with all these ancient (or so they seemed) people. But I now do.
Perhaps its because I’m becoming one of them.
In any case, this notebook is a very interesting artifact from Vermilion’s past.
WE ARE SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS ARE MADE ON
A woman is walking down the street carrying a small box with holes punched in the top.
"What's in that box?" a neighbor asks.
"A big cat," the woman says.
"I've been dreaming about mice at night, and I'm scared. The cat is to catch them."
"But the mice you dream about are imaginary," her neighbor says.
The woman turns to her friend and whispers, "So is the cat. Do you think I was crazy enough to lug a real cat around all day ?"
LOCAL ANNOUNCEMENTS: After giving it much thought this link has been "put-down". During the last year most of the folks who used to use this page as a bulletin board have acquired their own and, consequently, no longer need this forum from "Views". I have, however, kept links (in the links section) to Larry Hohler's "Hope Homes" in Kenya - and to Bette Lou Higgins' Eden Valley Enterprises sites. They are historically and socially relevant projects. I suggest that you visit these sites on a regular basis to see "what's shakin'".
Pay particular note to the "Hope Homes" page during the next few months / years. They are constantly improving the lives of their youngsters and those around them. This is an exciting project accomplished by exciting people.
Although this Vermilion High School Class of 1959 reunion is over classmates may want to stay connected with each other through organizerROGER BOUGHTON. Ye can connect by mailing him @ 2205 SW 10th Ave. Austin, MN. 55912 or you can just emailRoger.
Persons interested in the history of the Lake Shore Electric Railway (which was the subject of a recent past podcast series) - "the greatest electaric railway system on the planet" may want to go to Amazon.com and purchase a book called "Images of Rail - Lake Shore Electric Railway". It was put together by Thomas J. Patton with the help of my friends DENNIS LAMONT and ALBERT DOANE. It'd make a nice gift.
Another great book with Vermilion Roots is, "Grandma's Favorites: A Compilation of Recipes from MARGARET SANDERS BUELL by Amy O'Neal, ELIZABETH THOMPSON and MEG WALTER (May 2, 2012). This book very literally will provide one with the flavor of old Vermilion. And ye can also find it at Amazon.com. Take a look.
MARY WAKEFIELD BUXTON'S LATEST BOOK "The Private War of William Styron" is available in paper back for $15.00 with tax and can be purchased locally at Buxton and Buxton Law Office in Urbanna, ordered from any book store, Amazon.com or Brandylane Publishing Company. A signed, hard back edition may be purchased from Mrs. Buxton directly for $30.00 by writing her at Box 488, Urbanna, VA 23175 and including $6.00 for tax, postage and packaging.
THE BEAT GOES ON: This page is generated by a dreaded Macintosh Computer and is written and designed by (me) Rich Tarrant. It will change weekly ~ usually on Saturday. Bookmark the URL (Universal Resource Locater) and come back at your own leisure. Send the page to your friends (and enemies if you wish). If you have something to share with those who visit this page, pass it on. And if you see something that
is in need of correction do the same. My sister, Nancy, is a great help in that respect. It only takes me a week to get things right. And follow the links. You might find something you like. If you experience a problem with them let me know. Also, if you want to see past editions of this eZine check the new archives links below.
If you're looking for my old links section (pictured) I've replaced it with a pull-down menu (visible in the small box next to the word "Go"). If you're looking for links to more Vermilion history check that menu.
How the old links menu looked
For Persons who would like to donate to the cause (to keep these "Views" on-line you can send whatever you would like to me at the following address. And THANKS to everybody who has already donated to the cause. I doth certainly appreciate it):