George: Some will know - some will not. This is my father-in-law, George Joseph Diener. He died this week. There are specific physical ailments I can discribe/name which led to his death, but let it suffice for me to say that he simply died of old age.

It was my lot to have spent a great deal of time with this man. He always kidded people about his having attended the college of "Hard Knocks" - because he had been rather successful as both a businessman and a craftsman learning things as he went. I don't believe he was jealous in any way of those who didn't come up the hard way. He was just proud of the fact that he had succeeded in spite of all the tough things life had handed him from childhood up. As a young boy he had lost his mother, one lung, and one eye to an epidemic that swept through Cleveland's west-side German neighborhood where he lived. Through the Great Depression he salvaged items from the bottom of the lake off east 55th where his father had a (less than flourishing) restaurant making more money than did his father.

When he was in his early teens he wrote an essay telling how and what he was going to do in his life. He followed it like a blueprint, and all of it - all of it - came to be.

I don't believe he totally reckoned for the "Golden Years". He certainly prepared for them, but he didn't realize how it would be. Will Rogers once reflected that, "Being young is beautiful, but being old is comfortable." I doubt that George would have agreed. He once told me, "Whoever called these the Golden Years was full of shit."

Thus, you can see that George had a unique way of looking at things. Because of this I will never miss him nor regret knowing him. As he was always fond of saying (though not a church-going man by any means), "Smile, God hates Cowards."

The Cottage: These photographs are relative to the George piece. This is the fireplace in Cottage #3, and the view south from the front deck taken Thursday (11-20-03). George gave the cottage to my wife, Georgianne, several years ago. She is the third generation in her family to own the cottage. It has taken over a year to get this far in reconstructing the place. Those who've been following the progress on the cottage know (and have likely seen pictures) that major rebuilding was done here. The entire backwall was replaced, a loft was built with a new roof, and a new kitchen, bath, and utility area were added. The home is, purposefully, handicap accessible. There is a ramp, and the doors and bath fixtures can accomodate a person in a wheelchair. Just this week the plumbing was finally finished, and the propane fueled fireplace is in working order. Electric baseboard heaters will also be set in working order this weekend. Now we can begin the finishing process that (if it is remotely like that of our house) will last forever. But its nice.

Our eventual plan is to live here year 'round. George would like that. This was his real home; Cottage #3 @ the Olympic Outing Club; Diener's Place.

The Forbidden: For whatever reason after WWI ("the War to end all Wars") minstrel shows were the rage. The "rage" can be compared to the American Idol type phenomena which rolled across America during the last 12 months or so. Essentially they were used as fund raiser events for various types of organizations. Having gained conciousness as a human being during the tail-end of radio and the beginnings of television I assume that white folk found a great deal of humor in pretending to be black folk. The Amos and Andy shows spring immediately to my mind when thinking about the minstrel shows. I, admittedly, find the old Amos and Andy productions to be extremely funny. But, alas, the shows would now be considered to be in bad taste - and that's a legitimate concern.

Nevertheless, it is what people once did for entertainment, and I see no reason to deny it a place in our collective history.

I have no idea of the identity of the men in this photo and don't think that it is of much importance. Vermilionites interested in resurrecting the Town Hall Opera House may take note that this is most likely one type of entertainment that took place there. I believe this is the site of the picture. It would be very interesting to recreate such an event (for historic purposes), but methinks that it would not be politcally correct.It is, in a word, forboten.

The Woofs: John Paul Stuart White. Remember that name. I have writ about my friend Stu re: other things and other places before, and I will write about him more. He was/is one of the most talented and imaginative persons I have ever had the pleasure to encounter in my life. This Wolves club membership card is only representative of one of the numerous things we were involved in as youngsters coming of age in Vermilion, Ohio.

This club in particular was born in the basement of Warren Mehnert who lived on Huron Street (until just recently). Aside from Warren, Al Crozier; who was our gang artist/intellectual; Jon Smith (Warren's cousin), Jake Boone (now a man of great wealth), and myself were all members of this fraternity (girls were not allowed).

Somewhere deep in the recesses of my childhood memories of this club and the day it became a reality I recall jumping around in Mehnert's basement to a new tune called "Rockin' Robin". But be that as it is let me tell you something about Stu.

Stu was inclined to experiment with things. He once placed some gun powder on the floor of his basement, went outside, and threw a match through the window to see what would happen. Therein do I further recall that a dark cloud of burnt gunpowder coated everything in the place.

Stu's mother was constantly calling down to him in the basement (where we obviously spent most of our time at his house) for various things. She would call in her timid voice, "Stuart, please come up here and draw me a glass of water and/or bath." Stu would respond by taking a pencil and piece of paper, drawing a glass of water or a full bath, and giving it to her. She would ask, "Stuart, would you please come up here and help me out?" He would respond by calling back, "Which way did you come in?"

And all of this is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. In future installments I will tell you of our Bugaku gang, Stu's driving habits, and his singular gift to those who search the skies for UFO's. Such genius should be recognized. Stay tuned.

The Beat Goes On: The page is generatedby 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 bookmarks. 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 let me know and I'll send them to you.

Links to other sites on the Web

Vermilion Ohio Historic Pix
History of Linwood Park
Vermilion Community Orchestra
Vermilion Chamber of Commerce
Vermilion's Oldest Church
Vermilion Visitor's Advisory (Satire)
Gore Orphanage History
The Lester Pelton Story

"I am not a 32 year old woman." ~ Bart Simpson

Vol.1, Issue 35, November 22, 2003

© 2003 Rich Tarrant