There are some things
i cannot see.
because those things
belong to me.

And if
i ever met myself
walking down the street
i'd look the other way.

And so would he.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking through the files of the old Vermilion News is (to me) like running across a chest of valuable jewels. The words and the stories I find sparkle and shine, and I am quite enamoured by this treasure. In the words of a person I met just of late I find myself in a "whiteout". I so concentrate on these treasures that time slips by, and before I know it it's time to rake leaves, cook dinner, sweep the floor (which I'm very careful to do), or go to a meeting somewhere. That's how intensely fond I am of these historical items.

When I write of historical things I am inclined to write only about people, places, and things about our town that were once of some important. But on occasion I stumble across something that touches my heart. The short story of one Harvey F. Ditzler is one of these things.

In the big scheme of things the man who was Harvey F. Ditzler was nobody. He was a face among a crowd of faces that inhabited the little village called Vermilion in Ohio.

Harvey has no great claim to fame. He didn't invent anything. He never held political office. He didn't own a business. He didn't run with any special social crowd. He never built a building. That which was known about Harvey was little and nobody knew much.

It was said that he came to Vermilion from Wood County. He was thought to be... somewhat past three score and ten when he died - although people doubted that even he really new how old he was.

For a time he worked as a stationary engineer at Vermilion's then new Waterworks. But when that, for whatever reason, fell through he lived in abject squalor eking out a bit of food as a drayman hauling freight. He was often seen about town with his old horse, dog, and wagon. When his horse died he pulled the wagon himself along with his old dog.

There were some happy times in his life. He was married for a spell. The woman he married had a son and soon after their marriage they had a little girl. But that didn't last too long. The Mrs. left leaving him with her son and the baby girl. County authorities soon removed them from his care. So his happiness was very fleeting.

Two of the shacks he called home, just east of town, were practically torn down over his head. But Harvey struggled on. He dreaded the poorhouse. He refused handouts. He just kept pulling that wagon and accepting small compensation for his troubles. But he was doing for himself.

Early in the winter of 1933 he was discovered by local resident Otto Zelinsky sick and half frozen in his shanty near the river in Brownhelm Township. The Brownhelm Township trustees arranged for his care at the County Home where he died on a cold Wednesday afternoon in May of 1935. Funeral services were held on the following Saturday at the Zilch Funeral Parlors in Amherst.

There is no record of how many people, or who, attended the services for Harvey F. Ditzler of Vermilion. Most likely no one but the minister was there. But maybe, just maybe, for a very short time Harvey F. Ditzler had some comfort in his miserable life. A clean bed. Shelter from the elements. Warm meals. A kind word.

He would not have asked for more.

Ref: The Vermilion News; 3-35; Ancestry.com; U.S. Census, Vermilion, Ohio; 1910, 1930

Never Published until November, 2007.

Written on 8/23/06 @ 1:37 PM

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