HALF FULL, HALF EMPTY: What a very strange summer we're experiencing in Vermilion, O. this year. Some have no complaints about it because the weather has been unseasonably cool. It's not been cold. It's just been very mild. The nights have been in the 50's and 60's, and the days have been in the high 70's and low 80's. One might even go so far as to refer to the weather as being "ideal". But I prefer to call it "crappy".
I like SUMMER in the summer. I like it when it's 85 or 90º: I like thunderstorms, and warm rainy days, and hot summer eves with chirping crickets intermingled with the squeals of happy children playing hide-an-seek in the twilight.
But I guess my proverbial glass isn't really half-empty. I'll accept what we have with a great deal of hope and a smile. It's kinda like following the Cleveland Indians or the Cleveland Browns ball teams; maybe next year - just maybe...
Half-Fully,
The Warden and his Posse c.1949
VOL CLUBHOUSE 1949: The caption with this pic is a joke (of course). The photo was sent to me by Vermilion expatriate Dr. Norman J. Dean of Fallston, Maryland. Along with the photo he sent a note on a phoney letter head that reads:
Maryland State Prison for Women
Jessup, Mayland 21750
Dr. Norman J. Dean
Chief Warden, Undergarment Inspector & Parole Judge.
Funny.
But just so that I wouldn't take it seriously (who knows?) he added a hand-inked note with an arrow pointing to the letter head which says, "Just Kidding".
The only reason I add all of that here is to underline the length and breadth of the good doctors humor. I like people who don't take themselves too damn seriously.
But to the photograph.
This photo was taken around 1949 in front of (actually it's the back) the Vermilion-On-The-Lake Clubhouse. [NOTE: For the benefit of those who have not been around Vermilion, O. for some time that the clubhouse is still standing, and is currently being restored and used a local community center.]
Those pictured are:
L-R:Mr. Robert J. Crampton, one of the clubhouse owners, his friend and sidekick, Jack Smith, Don_____ (not related, we were told), Robert Crampton Jr., and Norman (Jack) Dean.
I don't really know the particulars re: Mr. Crampton and his relationship with the VOL company and/or the lot owners - but I'm sure to learn it shortly. But Jack Smith is a familiar face (to me). I don't believe I ever knew him - but I'm certain that I knew several of his sons. If I'm not mistaken they lived on Adams Street, and they were (at least in my early years) very tough cutomers. Ergo; I do wonder about his duties with Mr. Crampton.
This is also the very first pic I've ever seen of Dr. Norman "Jack" Dean. I've been in electronic touch with him for a number of years now - but I've never seen nor met him. I know he's a real talent. And I also know (as I've already indicated) that he is in possession of the great sense of humor.
One further comment about this particular photograph: I like it because of the light in which it was taken. I don't know if the photog used an additional light source to shoot the pic - but the lighting is great - and the shadows are long.
I believe I'll have more to say about this pic in the future.
"...who (aside from the Japanese) would ever know?"
WHEN WE WAS YOUNG: My friend, John Paul Stuart White, surprised me with this little bit of personal trivia from our "yooot" ("What's a 'yooot'?").
The sweatshirt is from our early highschool years when everybody needs a gang. We found this Japanese-looking word in a magazine and had it copied on sweatshirts that a few of us wore around school.
Back then kids belonged to clubs, and wore jackets that said "Varsity", "Piston Pushers", (and for the girls) Tabu etc. So a few of us had our own thing; BUGAKU [boo-gah-coo].
I never knew what this word meant nor if it was even a word at all. But it looked cool. So we used it. But for all I ever knew it might have been the Japanese word for A-hole.
But who (aside from the Japanese) would ever know? And we were a long way from Japan.
This reminds me of a Cleveland Cavalier baskeball player who has some oriental characters tatooed on his neck. Everytime I see him I get to thinking that - what if those characters actually mean something like "I love ewe(s)" - and he (of course) doesn't know it? When he's eating in a Chinese restaurant he probably wonders why all the servers are giggling in the corner.
In any case, I had actually forgotten about these old sweats until Stu sent me this pic. I was surprised to see that he still has his. He also sent me a pic of a sweat that was painted by another friend, Al Crozier. That one I'll save for next week.
Ah- sweet birdlies of our "yoot"("What's a 'yooot'?").
"And on a Wednesday afternoon on a balmy summer day
a group of perhaps the most unlikely gentlemen to gather
were, nonetheless,gathered in the backroom of Steve Martin’s store..."
VERMILION'S SAUER KRAUT BANQUET:
Sometime in the depths of the Great Depression Steve Martin, who lived with his wife Margaret on State road just south of town, took a terrible fall at his job at the steel mill in Lorain. Although he recovered from his injuries he never returned to the mill. Because it was his nature to be industrious as well as innovative he managed to overcome those economic hard times and to prosper. Then, as the great war in Europe and the Pacific loomed on the horizon Steve did something foolish. He bought a little grocery store on one of the most difficult and confusing traffic corners in the (then) Village of Vermilion, Ohio.
The store was situated on the south side of South Street with State Street to the west and Exchange Street to the east. It almost faced Division Street to the north - the street we now know as Main.
This was not a thriving enterprise and Martin was well aware of it when he purchased the place. Yet, as previously mentioned, he was both an innovative and industrious individual. What he didn’t know about the business he learned. And there was one more thing about Steve; he was a very gregarious person. He liked people and people liked him.
Though at first Martin had a partner in the business it wasn’t long before that fellow became discouraged and left. Then, on his own, he made the business flourish. One friend named Steve Olah who, for a time, lived in the apartment above the market was a butcher and taught Martin, as well as his friend, shirt-tail relative, and employee, Louis Makay, that fine art.
In the meantime Steve and his wife had two girls; Gerry and Marlene. They were beyond the shadow of any doubt very bright spots in his life. Former Vermilionite Maryellen Martinek, who now lives in Atlanta, Georgia wrote to tell me about the days she used to play with the Martin girls behind the store:
“There were lots of beer cases in the back and Steve would let us move them around to make doll houses or whatever suited our fancy. I also remember that every single day Steve had something cooking on his stove in the back and always fed me. My mother’s constant requests that Steve not feed me because it would ruin my dinner fell on deaf ears. Steve told her he was not about to feed his kids and not me - and that was that.”
The interior of the market was clean, modest, and practical. Markets of that time had both a very distinctive and pleasant odor. The aroma of fresh made sausage and fresh bread were wonderful. The congenial smiles and friendly banter of both Martin and Louis Makay were exceptionally welcoming. And there among tall boxes of Rinso detergent, Corn Flakes, loaves of Wonderbread, displays of Suds without Soap, Kraft Cheese, shelves of Campbell Soup, Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix, and sundry other grocery items Martin’s business thrived.
One of the peculiarities of the times (now almost forgotten) was the fact that nearly all businesses in town closed at noon on Wednesdays. Those old enough to recall the old Blue Laws may also remember that nearly all businesses were closed on Sundays. This meant that most shopping had to be done Monday through Saturday. Thus, it became the custom for businesses to close at noon on Wednesday and to stay open until noon on Saturday. This way the workers only worked a five day work week. In any case, Martin’s Store followed suit.
And it is upon this thought that I turn to one of the most unique gatherings of Vermilionites to ever sit before a camera; The Sauerkraut Gang of 1949.
The Second War had been over for four years. Our nation was headed into a building and manufacturing boom like no other experienced in the history of the world. And on a Wednesday afternoon on a balmy summer day a group of perhaps the most unlikely gentlemen to gather were, nonetheless,gathered in the backroom of Steve Martin’s store on South Street for a grandiose banquet of sauerkraut, sausage, bread, and beer. Life was good.
Seated at the table (from left to right) were Dr. John Dickason, Joe Villa, his brother George, (unknown), a man only known (by me) as “Joe-Joe”, (unknown), Elmer Trinter, Steve Martin, unknown, unknown, Don Trinter, and Clarence Feldkamp.
Standing (from left to right) were Harold Neiding, “Curly” (holding Marlene Martin Young), Elmer Brushaber, unknown, Barney Zinnitz, Russ Vasbinder,unknown, another Trinter son/brother, and Steve Olah.
I apologize for the unidentified men in the photograph. If there are folks who might identify them I would appreciate such knowledge. The story surrounding the way in which I first discovered and eventually acquired a copy of this photo is nearly as interesting as the picture itself. But I’ll leave that to another time.
As is obvious in the picture it was taken by Vermilion’s professional photographer, Rudy Moc, in 1949. Whether or not he was member of this illustrious gathering is unknown. And why these particular people attended this gathering is also unclear. But as was mentioned in last weeks issue of the PJ, Steve Martin was apparently an extremely gregarious personality. So it is safe to assume that he is the thread that tied these fellows together.
Each man in this picture is worthy of a story by himself. Doc Dickason was one of the last of a certain breed of doctors to serve our little town. He was a family doctor, a family man, well known and respected. His family ties went back to the pioneer beginnings of Vermilion (i.e. the Trinter and Sherod families).
The (then) young Villa brothers, George and Joe. Fresh from the big war. They had migrated from Pennsylvania and were on their way to becoming very friendly and familiar figures in our town.
There is Harold Nieding, who did (I believe) a bit of fishing and eventually owned and operated the Lake Erie Drive-In just east of the bowling alley. He was a pleasant person, and very active in the community.
Elmer Brushaber was the town plumber. The business he started still bears his name. Russ Vasbinder was co-owner of the Okagi Restaurant. Russ was a good fellow, not to mention a real character all his life.
Clarence Feldkamp lived along State Road just south of town. If I am correct his place was very near the farm where Steve Martin once lived. Elmer Trinter and his two sons were handsome, strong men from the farm. Steve Olah, as I have previously mentioned, was a meat cutter who lived over the store, and the person who had helped Steve Martin and Lou Makay learn that trade.
And then at the head of the table there was Steve Martin; hardworking and amiable. When this photo was taken Steve was in his latter 40’s. One evening near Christmas, a year or so after this great banquet, he suffered a heart attack in his home on Main Street. He passed into the hands of God several hours later.
Not only was this a great loss to his family, but as one can see it was truly a great loss to our community as well. All those in attendance of the great Sauerkrat Banquet of '49 went their own way, but all must have had wonderful memories of that particular day, and that particular place in time, for the remainder of their lives.
Sincere Thanks to: Marlene Martin Young; Louis and Theresa Makay; Kathy Dickason; and Maryellen Martinek.
THE WORLD'S THINNEST BOOKS
French War Heroes, by Jacques Chirac
How I served My Country, by Jane Fonda
My Personal Beauty Secrets, by Janet Reno
The Things I love About Bill, by Hillary Clinton
My Little Book of Personal Hygiene, by Osama Bin Laden
Things I Cannot Afford, by Bill Gates
Things I would Not do For Money, by Dennis Rodman
My Wild Years, by Al Gore
A Collection of My Motivational Speeches, by Dr. J.
Kevorkian
Everything Men Know About Women
Everything Women Know About Men
All The men I have Loved, by Ellen de Generes
Guide to Dating Etiquette, by Mike Tyson
Spotted Owl Recipes, by the EPA
The Amish Phone Directory
My Plan to Find The Real Killers, by O.J. Simpson
A Book on Morals, by Bill Clinton with an introduction by
Rev Jesse Jackson
"...it is made of sandstone, and still stands along the Edison highway..."
A TOUGH NIGHT IN JESSUP:
They called the Township Jessup. It took its name from one of three Connecticut men, (Isaac Bronson, Ebenezer Jessup, and Jessup Wakeman) who were principal proprietors of the property. To the east lay the Vermilion River, and on the West the creek they call La Chapelle, both flowing north into the great Lake they call Erie. In 1808 to proprietors employed one Jebez Wright to survey the Township (originally surveyed by Vermilion pioneer Almon Ruggles) into lots. It was a rich land replete with virgin hardwood forests set atop a wealth of sandstone that would someday be quarried and amply lend itself to the general economy of the area.
This was a land into which one Ebenezer Sprague brought his family, a man named Sears, a yoke of oxen, an ax, and an iron kettle in the spring of 1809. Sprague had purchased a section of land in Jessup for the whopping sum of $1.29 an acre the year before and determined to make it to his home. As fate would have it such resolve was requisite to survival during those first years.
Arriving too late in the spring to plant crops enough for the coming fall and winter, the Sprague family, and a few families who joined him later that first summer, existed on a meager diet of grated corn and potatoes through the winter months. Add to this a declaration of war, and any sightings of Native Americans (i.e. Indians) and their prospects for the future seemed rather dismal.
Assessing the situation, the settlers thought it best to construct a block house (a small fortress) wherein they could better defend them selves if they were attacked. And although there were those among them (as always) that did not favor this decision the day soon came when such angst would be set aside and quickly forgotten.
It was near evening when one of the settlers intent on moving his family home, gave his gun to a younger man with directions for him to go ahead and be on the lookout for any dangers in their path. About a half a mile from their destination a shot rang out, and the young man came running back with a bullet hole in his coat, declaring that he had sighted several Indians who had shot at him.
With all due dispatch, the settlers gathered together and barricaded themselves inside their block house preparing to do battle. The women and children were sent to the middle of the chamber. The men with guns stood by the doors as a first line of defense. Behind him stood others armed with pitchforks and clubs poised for a deadly encounter.
Through the night lookouts reported that Indians were approaching them swinging firebrands intent on setting fire to the house and killing the settlers when they ran from the flames. They spoke very little. And no one slept. No one, that is, except for the young man who had given the alarm, and who had the bullet hole in his coat.
In the morning light, they crept from the block house to discover that there were no human tracks in a plowed ground where they had envisioned Indians carrying torches. There was only evidence of cinders that had been blown about in the wind from some burning log heaps which, married to their excited minds, gave them the impression of a pending Indian attack. There was also strong suspicion that the young man who had sounded the alarm made a hole in his coat to support his Indians sighting. It’d been a tough night in Jessup.
In 1815 and citizens of Jessup developed a keen disaffection for the proprietors and they formally changed the name of the Township to Florence. It was/is considered to be one of the best agricultural townships in the Firelands. In 1854 they built the octagonal Florence Township Hall (pictured). Appropriately enough it is made of sandstone, and still stands along the Edison highway (State Route 113) at Florence corners. Until about 1993 it was still being used as a polling place.
Ref: The Vermilion News, 5-5-38; An Anthology of Historical Narratives of Vermillion, Ohio and its people, 2005; Special thanks to the Stranger who stopped to talk to me in Florence; Published in the Vermilion Photojournal on May 12, 2005; Oral transcription made at the Olympic Outing Club on July 27, 2009 @1:42 PM.
"In many respects the life and fate of Captain Lampe parallels the life and fate of his faithful steam-tug the Grandon."
BIG ED AND THE GRANDON:
They still tell stories about him - Captain "Big Ed" Lampe. I suspect that like many men who are brave enough, and tough enough, to pour both their heart and their soul into their work - be it on land, sea, or through the air some of those stories have, through the years, become slightly exaggerated. But be all that as it is - "Big Ed" Lampe is an honest to goodness Lake Erie folk hero.
It has always been my intention to tell the whole story of Captain Lampe with no embellishments. For why would a fellow who was a giant of a man; a man who very literally grew up sailing the moody waters of Lake Erie; a man who made and lost several fortunes during his lifetime as a sailor, inventor, and businessman need to have his life portrayed as anything other than what it was? And so the stories of his strength, his wit, and his courage abound. Several have been told in this particular forum (VPJ 7-3-03, 6-10-04, 10-7-04, 2-3-05), and they are wonderful. But what, then, became of this Lake Erie legend?
In many respects the life and fate of Captain Lampe parallels the life and fate of his faithful steam-tug the Grandon. Like “Big Ed” the steam-tug originated in western Lake Erie. It was a composite steamer built in 1893 at Toledo, Ohio by Craig Ship Building Co. for H.D. Fifield of Toledo. It was a fair-sized boat - 59.58’ x 16.42’ x 7.16’. For years she carried passengers between ports in Catawba and Sandusky and the Lake Erie Islands.
When Captain Lampe acquired the vessel he refitted it and used it mainly as a fish-tug working out of the port of Vermilion. And he worked her like he worked himself - hard - as the photos of the vessel accompanying this essay attest.
Things were going quite well for both the captain and his tug until the early spring of 1937. While entering the harbor at about 9 pm on a dimly lit May evening he suddenly encountered a party of 6 people on a sailboat stalled in the middle of the channel. The motor on their boat was not working, and they were attempting to scull with the rudder to make it to their dock. While he blasted a distress signal and ran the craft onto the pier it was too late. The boats collided and the smaller boat sank. Three folks on the sailboat lost their lives.
Rather predictably, accusations of negligence against “Big Ed” as well as lawsuits followed this mishap. And for a time a lien was placed on the Grandon. At this point both the fates of "Big Ed" and his vessel begin to get a bit foggy. While available records indicate that Captain Lampe did work the tug for at least another year following the accident the true details of that which followed are unknown.
According to the the Historical Collections of the Great Lakes - Great Lakes Online Index - University Libraries/Bowling Green State University the Grandon was "Abandoned in 1936 above the highway bridge at Vermilion, OH, but not dropped from enrolment until 1945”.
Given the account of the aforementioned mishap these records are obviously in error. However; the error may only be slight. And ironically, or not, this is one of the places where the legend of "Big Ed" steps in to fill in the blanks.
In 1938 when the Lake Shore Electric Railway was dismantling their system it is said the “Big Ed” got the contract to dismantle the electric bridge over the Vermilion River. Due to the way those bridges were connected it didn’t take much to bring one down. It was said that Captain Lampe was using the Grandon to dismantle the bridge, pulled a pin, and the bridge collapsed sinking the vessel.
The account of the bridge collapse is very much a part of the history of the Lake Shore Electric. And given the fact that records do show that the Grandon was abandoned “above the highway bridge at Vermilion” this tale certainly rings true.
Some time later the hull was dug up and destroyed. And that was the end of the Grandon. Its end like the end of the man who sailed her was relatively unspectacular. Just a few years after the demise of his trusty vessel he took ill. On September 23, 1947 after ailing for several years he quietly passed away at the Marine Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio.
And that was the unobtrusive conclusion of the legend of “Big Ed” Lampe. Or perhaps it was really just the beginning.
Ref: Historical Collections of the Great Lakes - Great Lakes Online Index - University Libraries/Bowling Green State University; The Vermilion News, 9-25-47, 5-13-47; Vermilion Area Archival Society Archives. /
"And a belated Happy Birthday goes out to Miss Lillie."
"THE BIKE" MOUSEPAD"
DON'T JUST SIT THERE WITH A MOUSE IN YOUR HAND! HELP THE (MY) ECONOMIC RECOVERY!: Take a cyber visit through my on-line store.
This week I designed a mousepad. I was looking at pads at Staples last week and found them to be both boring and rather expensive (for boring). So I went home and designed my own. For the money - it beats the heck out of what I've seen.
The pad is a "Wyeth-type" photo-painting I fashioned from some of my "stuff" taken at the Olympic Outing Club in Brownhelm Township, Ohio. I'm prejudice - but I think it's nice.
And for those who might wonder - this is my shop - and I do make a few bucks selling the items therein...
VERMILION VIEWS GIFT SHOP
Podcasts - "forever under construction..."
PODCAST #139: This weeks the Vermilion Views Podcast #139 is an informal tour of the "Views" office.
Also, please note that all the video (MP4) podcasts (where used) are done in the "Quicktime MP4" format.
NOTE NOTE:Past podcasts are not available in the on-line archive. They just take up too much disk space. But if one really, really, really wants to acquire a copy of a past cast it can be had by contacting me and I will place it on a disc and send it to ye for a minimal fee.
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. They've recently received a significant grant from the Dolan Foundation and are constructing a Manual Training Center for their children and for other young people in that community. This is an exciting project.
The Vermilion High School Class of 1959 may be interested in knowing that a reunion is planned for the weekend of September 18-20, 2009. Registration can be made through Roger Boughton 2205 SW 10th Ave. Austin, MN. 55912 or you can just emailRoger.
Where's Alice? I found this link interesting. You just never know what Vermilion expatriots are up to - or where their up to doing it. Alice Wakefield is one of those people. So check out his link. Methinks you'll be surprised: Talking Turkey.
"Thanks Dr. Norm."
The Beat Goes On: The page is generated by the 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):
Rich Tarrant
1041 Oakwood Drive
Vermilion, Ohio
44089
Telephone: 440-967-0988 - Cell: 440-522-4459
or you can use PayPal:
"But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things."
-Vincent Van Gogh
Vol.7, Issue 20, August 1, 2009
Archive Issue #333
© 2009 Rich Tarrant