VHS ’48: It may be that I’ve used this pic in a prior edition. But it still may be of interest to some newer subscribers. There was a time when it was possible to place the pic of all Vermilion’s High School graduates in a single picture frame.

I knew several of those pictured herein – my brother Phil “Bud” is one. But I remember Floyd Bachman, Jimmy Fitzpatrick, Bobby Hoffman and Pat Ruggles as well. I don’t know how many of these folks are still around town aside of Merle Koppenhafer. I see him now and then at the supermarket.

These were nice presentations. Hart’s Corner Drug Store always displayed them in their front window around graduation time.

CALLER ID. AND HISTORY: My wife and I have a thing called “caller id.” on our telephone. It helps us separate the wheat from the chaff of callers. (The “do not call” list is hardly foolproof.) In any case, I noted a call from someone named Dana Williams: Area code 207. Sales person or politician thought I - and I promptly ignored it.

A little while later I went to check my e-mail on my Mac G5 that does everything but make coffee and bake cookies, and found a communiqué from who else? Dana Williams. It read, in part:

“Hi Rich, I just phoned you and have been meaning to do so for months. I think I said I was your fifth cousin but in checking again it's fourth!

Several months ago I was online at ancestry.com and came across an inquiry for anyone related to John Forster and Sarah Berryhill Forster. Since my grandmother was a genealogist, I was familiar with those names so I responded. Turns out I connected with a fourth cousin - Beverly Wagner - who lives in Florida. Fourth cousins share the same great-great-great-great-grandparents. My grandmother (Helen Laura Clock Williams) and your grandfather (Pearl Roscoe) were cousins. I have it all charted out on paper which is much easier to visualize...”

She further explained that she grew up in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, but currently lives in Portland, Maine. Ironically (or not) Portland was once my father’s (W.B. Tarrant) hometown.

She also told me that she’d prepared a binder of genealogical information containing several letters to her grandmother from my mother, Ella G. Tarrant, and grandfather Pearl (pictured with my grandmother Elizabeth “Bessie”) that she would send me if I was interested. I was. And she did.

According to the records in the folder the first known Forster / Foster in America was one Thomas Foster. The name was apparently changed / corrupted through time to Forster. Thomas enlisted into “the service of his country” on July 5, 1775. He later married a Virginia girl who was a full cousin of John Randolph of Roanoke. Randolph was half Indian and a descendant of Pocahontas. This is probably factual, but not extremely rare. Some genealogists estimate that Pocahontas descendants probably number as many as 100,000 persons or more. Nonetheless; it’s interesting.

To fast forward this genealogical disquisition - Dana’s grandmother, Laura Clock Williams, and my grandfather were maternal first cousins. And back in 1944 Laura was very interested in tracing and preserving the history of the Forster Family. The binder I received contains her work and, as previously mentioned, several letters written by my grandfather and mother to her on the subject during those years.

By and large, all the details contained therein - aside of the Pocahontas thing - are likely of little interest to persons outside the immediate family. Thus is the very nature of family trees. But I have always wondered why my great-grandparents named my grandfather Pearl. Family names, I have found, are commonly passed down through generations. And in this tree there are Johns, Toms, Jims, Richards, and Bobs from 1700 on. But their ain’t a Pearl among them. At least not until my grandfather was born in 1869. Perhaps that “is” the answer.

Whatever the case, I was both pleased and surprised to hear from my fourth cousin even if we don’t really know one another. And who knows? I might even answer the telephone the next time someone I don’t know calls. It just might be a matter of history.

_{Ref: Published in the Vermilion Photojournal 10/15/2009}

Vol. XII, No.10. - VERMILION, OHIO, THURSDAY, August 13, 1908

MRS. J.F. LEWIS DEAD

Many of the people of Vermilion will be deeply pained too [sic] hear of the death of Mrs. J.F. Lewis which occurred on Wednesday, August, 5, 1908, at Charity Hospital, Cleveland. She was brought to the hospital about three months ago, and underwent a very serious operation. She suffered severe pain constantly, but endured it with sweet patience and without complaint. She has talked many times of the happy days she spent at Vermilion and said more than once, “How I wish I might go back to those happy days at Vermilion. They were the happiest days of my life.” She asked after each of her many friends at Vermilion and sent her love to them all. During first weeks of her illness, she planned to visit in Vermilion, “after she got well.” She is well now and safe in her Heavenly home, and our deepest sympathy goes to Mr. Lewis and her parents and brother and sister, who are so sadly bereaved.

_{DELL MILLER GOES BACK TO PEN}

The issue of the Ohio Penitentiary News bearing date of Saturday, Aug. 8, contains this interesting bit of information:

"Dell Miller, 37634, was returned to the prison Thursday afternoon for visitation of his parole officer after an absence from the institution of 55 days. He was received May 25, 1907, for a term of five years from Erie County for larceny. Not being a native of Ohio, it required considerable effort to have his case favorably considered, but upon his guarantee that he had reformed, would leave liquor alone forever and join the church, influential ones came to his aid with the result that he was paroled June 12, 1908. As a result of his violation he will now have about 2 1/2 years to serve. Miller claims his correct name is Chester A. Linnard and that his people are very prominent and wealthy, being owners of a chain of first-class hotels in Southern California, in an adjacent to Los Angeles."

Miller, it will be remembered, in April 1907, stole a horse and buggy from a livery man by the name of Decker at Vermilion. He drove towards Sandusky, but near the outskirts of the city the horse dropped dead, whereupon Miller sold the carcass to one man for $3, the buggy to another for $3 or $4, the whip to another and the rope and harness to another, realizing together about $20.

He was arrested, indicted by the grand jury of the spring term of 1907, Court of Common Pleas, tried for larceny and found guilty. The jury fixing the value of the property stolen pets $50. On the 11th of May Judge Reid sentenced him to the penitentiary for five years.

_{BAND CONCERT FRIDAY NIGHT}

The Vermilion people will have a great treat on Saturday evening and are cordially invited to attend a fine concert in the tabernacle, Linwood Park under the direction of Prof. Wettach of Pittsburgh. It will consist of chorus, solos, etc. There will be talent from Cleveland, Toledo, Erie and surrounding towns. We can safely say that those who are fortunate to attend this concert will not regret it, as it will be an excellent program. There will be no collection. The only thing is the entrance to the park.

_{A CURIO}

Capt. C. Young had on exhibition one day this week of a curio of his own print production – a full four masted ship in a bottle. The ship is about 6 inches long and how it was placed in the bottle is a mystery to the uninitiated.

Correspondence

AMHERST

George Hansman has returned from Toledo where he attended the funeral of his daughter, Mrs. Stickroth.

The United Sunday school picnic which was held at Linwood Park Thursday was a decided success in every way.

Edward Heusner, living on the Windfall road in Henrietta attempted suicide last Thursday afternoon. He and his son Clyde were driving sheep when he became angry over one getting away. Mr. Heusner has had several such attacks had tried to do himself bodily harm. The son went to the house and hid a revolver, but was followed by his father who tried to get possession of a shotgun but without success. Mr. Heusner got a razor but after a scuffle his son succeeded in getting away from them.

Mr. Heusner went violently insane and Friday officer Dumas of Elyria went for him and he went peacefully to malaria.

Plans are being made other businessmen to close their places of business every Thursday at 6 o'clock until the end of October. A petition is now in circulation and most of the businessmen have signed.

Alex Cameron had a narrow escape on Quarry engine Thursday. He is fireman on the engine and started to blow the mud out of the boiler. The valve came open and the steam and water struck him in the face burning him badly.

The Misses Stoltz of the East Quarry received word last week of the death of their brother Mathias who died in Grand Junction Col. His death was caused from injuries received in a railroad wreck. Mr. Stoltz was a former Amherst man. Besides his own family he leaves two sisters, Misses Barbara and Mary and three brothers, Nicholas Sebastian and Bernard.

Ernest Lassen was seriously injured at number six quarry, Monday. His legs were badly bruised but not broken.

AXTEL

Mrs. William Dean is still on the sick list.

Mrs. William Miller and daughter Irene have returned after 10 days visit with her parents and Canal Dover O.

_{[NOTE: I’m always amused when I read about someone I knew when they were in their 90s. Irene became Irene Todd and then Irene Severance. She was a real pistol.]}

The people of Axtel witnessed an astronomical display last Sunday evening, when a Starr and companion were seen traversing the streets, evidently in search of a church, as that was where they landed. Everyone get your telescope ready and watch for further developments.

_{[NOTE: My assumption is that this refers to a young couple – one with the last name Starr – who were lovers.]}

Locals.

The Misses Weiss of Ragersville are spending the week here.

Frank Bond left Tuesday for a trip up the lakes with Capt. Gegenheimer.

Born – to Mr. and Mrs. Fred Krapp, a son, Friday, August 7, ‘08.

The Misses Gordon, Rosen, Weiss and gentlemen friends of Lorain and Cleveland Sundayed with Mrs. D. Donaldson and Mrs. E. A. Hill.

The Oscar F. Cook Stock Co., is finding their Airdome of little use here this week on account of the rain. However the Town Hall is open again which is fortunate for them.

George Harris is reported very ill.

Vermilion is about as well supplied with summer boarders as can be accommodated and several large picnics have been at the park during the past week.

Capt. Peter Full came in on a launch from his houseboat which brought it as far as Vermilion, Tuesday. He was accompanied by a fireman for the boat. They left in the evening to join their boat at Toledo.

A severe hailstorm visited the vicinity south of Vermilion Monday afternoon. The corn was partially stripped and some other damage was done although not of a serious nature.

_NOTICE

An account of the rain Wednesday evening there was no band concert. The band will play Friday night instead. Next week Wednesday evening there will be no band concert on account of the firemen's convention at Lorain.

The concert will be given on Friday evening, the 21st, instead.

150th ANNIVERSARY OF THE “BATTLE OF THE HUNDRED SLAIN”: Three miles from Fort Phil Kearny near Story, Wyoming will be held this year (No date was provided). For more info see wikipedia.)

Late Vermilion resident, Matilda Louis Grummond was the sister of 2nd Lt. George Washington Grummond. Grummond and 81 of his fellow soldiers were killed by an overwhelming force of Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians in one of the worst military disasters suffered by the US Army on Great Plains.

If you are a descendant of Matilda and your are interested in this history you can email email John Horton for additional information.

HARD TIMES, PART 4

Mary Wakefield Buxton

I returned to Trans Canada Airlines that January of 1962 at the end of two weeks at home in Vermilion typing endlessly on Father’s old Royal and managed to pass their typing test with a 37. Not quite the required 40 wpm, but the district manager took me on, anyway. That one act of kindness lifted me into a realm of hope that I was going to succeed in my new, entirely self-generated life.

Hired as a reservationist, along with another young lady who had been hired as a ticket agent, I was immediately sent to a three week training class in Montreal, Canada. We flew on a British made Viscount to Toronto and then transferred to a Vanguard turbo jet to Montreal. There, I learned the history of Canada of which, to my acute embarrassment, I knew very little. I also was introduced to the coldest weather I had ever experienced in my life.

One morning as we left the hotel and walked to class, I saw a clock with a temperature reading of -20! Now that was cold! It was so cold I couldn’t smile because, if I did, my teeth actually ached. My eyes also hurt. I had to tie a scarf around my face leaving tiny slits in order to see just to protect my eyes from the frigid air.

In the evenings after class we went to local bars and danced with the French Canadians. They were short men, with dark hair and eyes, and they didn’t speak English. In spite of Miss Mary’s devotion at Vermilion High School in teaching me French and my continued studies in college, the conversation was scant.

One weekend my classmate and I went skiing in the Laurentian Mountains north of the city which was my first exposure to real skies and real mountains. I was used to Father’s home-made wooden skies with a thin leather strap that buckled around a regular shoe that he had once used to ski down the gentle slope in front of the big house we knew as “Harbor House” in town at the foot of the lake. I had used the same skies while learning to ski at our home “Slimacres” on our slope to the beach west of town.

I quickly discovered real skies were scary and real ski boots even scarier because they were big and heavy and clamped together so if you fell down, which I thought I might do, it would pose very serious threat to my bones.

I am happy to say I had enough sense that day to start skiing off the beginner’s slope. This, now that I look back at those times, in itself, is amazing because I was rather the sort that could have marched right up to the advanced slope and taken off without a trace of fear. Good sense prevailed that day, however, thank goodness, because somehow I got going backwards down the beginner’s slope and had the mortifying experience of coming down the hill crouched over and bottom first. Fortunately I did not crash and break a leg but merely landed ignobly in a snowdrift. If I had fallen and broken a leg, my brilliant chance for a career in the airline industry would have come to immediate end. More good sense prevailed that day as I announced to my new friends that I thought skiing was quite a dangerous sport and that day was the last time for me on snow skies.

At the end of three weeks I knew a great deal about the history of our northern neighbor, the airline I now worked for, the equipment and services we provided our customers and I returned to Cleveland to go to work. Things were looking up for me the first time in almost a year and I was having some fun again in my life and feeling optimistic about the future.

The bad news was that I had to work shifts which rotated each week. One week of 6am-2pm, one week of 9-5pm, one week of 10-6pm and one really killer week of 3pm-midnight. I soon learned it was not fun to be on Clifton Blvd in the dark to catch the 5:30am bus to downtown Cleveland but, even worse, to be at the bus stop downtown at 12:05am across the street from the Hanna Building to return home.

In fact, it was downright dangerous for a lone woman to be out on the streets at such times. Some of the characters seen on city streets in the wee hours of the morning were as alarming then as now and having to be so alert was stressful. I had been told not to look demure, scared and submissive on the streets, but to walk forcefully with fearless bearing. It was suggested one should even stare hard at any suspicious party in hopes of discouraging approach. That latter advice seemed a bit too much for me. No one had to warn me to stay alert, never be in an alley, elevator or parking lot alone, walk only in well-lit areas and… do all you could to get a promotion to a daytime schedule and as soon as possible!

With my higher salary, I saved some money for a down payment and purchased a used Austin Healy convertible for $500.00 that was advertised in the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I was able to finance the car over 12 months with a bank loan which proved to be a solid investment because the car never broke down or needed a repair (or even an oil change) in the two years along with offering terrific gas mileage. I was so proud of being able to purchase and finance my very first car at age 20 and without Father’s help!

I soon discovered problems with driving to work, however. The parking fees were exorbitant, even in 1961, and it was arguable whether parking lots were much safer than bus stops in the wee hours of the morning. I learned to move very quickly through parking lots and alleys leading to the safety of the Hannah Building.

That winter in Cleveland of 1962 was cold and snowy. I would often awaken and find my little black car covered under a fresh blanket of snow. Father was nowhere in sight so I had to scrape off the car and shovel my wheels free myself before I could drive to work. The little Hillman always started, no matter how cold was the morning and I was so grateful for that blessing.

I really enjoyed my work and was learning so much. Occasionally, a French Canadian would call and demand to speak with someone who spoke French. The airline was a government airline and since Canada had two official languages, both English and French, we were expected to be able to speak in French. I had studied more years of French than anyone else on the staff and was expected to fill this role. Unfortunately I could never understand a word of French Canadian probably because it was as different to European French as Castilian Spanish is to Mexican Spanish. And, of course, they spoke so fast.

There were certain negative and sensitive “feelings” the English and French Canadians had for each other which were hidden like strong currents under the surface of the sea. The Cleveland office tried very hard to meet any and all French Canadian needs but we sensed they carried an “attitude,” even with Americans, like the man with that proverbial chip on his shoulder.

One evening, word of a major blizzard coming into Cleveland that evening halted all air traffic in and out of John Hopkins. The staff was asked to stay in the city at a nearby hotel within walking distance of the office so we could be back on duty in the morning, no matter how bad the storm. Nothing came of the expected blizzard but the staff had a wonderful time living it up in hotel luxury.

In those days there was little mention of diet and exercise. I look back on my life and wonder how I received the nourishment I needed. I also never exercised beyond rushing to and from work. For breakfast, I grabbed a glazed do-nut and cup of tea to go from the coffee shop in the Hanna Building. I ate a packed sandwich or ordered a hamburger for lunch and for dinner I popped a TV meal in the oven in the shared kitchen in my apartment. I don’t think I ever ate fruit, fiber or vegetables beyond what came in a frozen dinner. Perhaps youth, itself, protects us even while eating the worst possible foods.

I received a paycheck at the end of each month. Rent was $35.00 a week for a shared bedroom apartment which really worked out well because my roommate moved out to get married and the landlady decided I could have the room to myself without a raised rent. Food, money for gas and parking and entertainment took the rest. The only money I saved during that period was a retirement fund my company had set up for me that I contributed to with each pay check.

Having a job provides the best education of human behavior. I saw everything at TCA…manipulation, deceit, sexual harassment, infidelity, conniving, shirking duties, honesty, dishonesty, chronically late employees, excuse makers, kindness, spite, stupidity, responsibility, irresponsibility, efficiency, organization, disorganization, whatever behavior on the human spectrum, I saw it all. Then the real miracle: I began to notice my own behavior.

I had learned one really important lesson at age 20. Behavior was directly connected to success or failure in life. I knew I had had enough taste of failure in my life and I meant to take my job seriously, do well and be promoted as quickly as possible. For the first time in my life, I felt an odd pang of ambition tweak my inner thoughts. It seemed almost strange, but I realized now that I wanted to succeed! I wanted to work hard! I wanted to earn a lot of money! I wanted to be rewarded for my good work!

Thank God and alleluia! The transformation that my parents so hoped for me when they sent me to make it on my own in the city had finally come about. But my learning continued. I was discovering how easy it is to succeed in the business world. All one had to do was be the best employee in the office. In order to do this, one did not have to be the best employee in the world… just the best employee in the office. To achieve this goal, I just had to reflect on the strength and weaknesses of the rest of the staff and be one tiny iota better than everyone else. I knew I probably couldn’t be a great deal better than everyone else, but I was fairly certain through hard work and determination that I could be a teeny-weeny bit better than everyone else.

I started arriving just 15 minutes ahead of the rest of the staff and staying 15 minutes later. I asked my supervisor every day if he needed any help that day and if so, I gladly took on the extra task. One had to be cheerful and keep a positive spirit at work which was easy for me. And assuming one has a brain and uses it and can do the work assigned, that is about all is takes to be number one in any office.

I was on the job one morning when the district manager came bolting into the office at 6am surprising everyone. The other girl was at her desk painting her fingernails. He was a boss known for his quick temper and he displayed it that day and she was gone the next day. I clearly got the message and was determined not to let my personal life ever interfere with my job performance.

My promotion came quickly and here is how it came about: One day my adored Uncle Ted Wakefield showed up with a business CEO from Brussels, an aristocrat by the name of Baudouin Lagasse, who also happened to be a cousin to the King of Belgium. In those years the Wakefield Corporation had many business connections in Europe and Uncle Ted with his splendid charm and flair for speaking French (he had spent a year studying at the Sorbonne during his college years) turned them all into personal friends.

He wanted me to join them for dinner at a swanky restaurant in Cleveland. In front of me, the two gentlemen asked the manager if I could take the rest of the day off and join them for dinner. Baudouin even announced he would exchange his Air France airplane ticket back to Europe next week for a TCA ticket if I could be granted special leave.
Now, I knew our district manager was an old fashioned boss, what we now call a “theory X” type, and I knew very well that this was an important test that I had better pass. He cleverly shifted the decision to me. “Mary can decide whether she will go off for a good time this evening with you or stick to the duties of her job.”

Now certainly no one could possibly think I didn’t get THAT message? OK, maybe I would have gone off a year ago with Uncle Ted and his royal guest, but does anyone think the dear Mays would dream of leaving her job NOW? No way!

Although I hated to miss the fun evening with Uncle Ted and his friend, I bid them goodbye. I passed the test. Within weeks, I was promoted to international sales desk where I worked only a day shift and solely with corporations and travel agents booking executive international flights.

A benefit of this work was I could travel first class free of charge anywhere the airlines flew which included London, Paris, Rome and even Bermuda, Tampa. I flew as much as I could in my last year of work and saw as much of the world as I could fit into my work schedule and even with higher wages, I was still living paycheck to paycheck but I was still vulnerable to do crazy things.

One day, out of the blue, I walked into a furrier and bought a silver fox stole made up of just two pelts for $180.00. I believe this was the silliest purchase in my life, how often could I wear a silver fox stole, but it was such fun to buy something so frivolous and to just splurge after such a long haul of having no money.

I was starting to think about the value of money. I knew I wanted to have money and that I needed it to exist. But wasn’t money to be enjoyed instead of saved holed up somewhere in a bank or brokerage house? I decided money, once earned, should be spent as quickly as possible so that others would have a chance to earn it. In this way work was encouraged all around (which I also believed quite strongly was a basic ingredient to happiness and fulfillment in life) and money should keep moving from party to party. (Note: This philosophy is not recommended for those who might like to retire at age 65.)

Oh yes, in spite of definitive improvements in her life and the birth of a much more responsible person that was newly committed to a life of hard work and success, the dear Mays, that happy, carefree child born, raised and educated in Vermilion, Ohio, with just a wee propensity for foolishness, was still very much alive and kicking.

_{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.}

IT’S A SINGER: The Singer 20 toy sewing machine was introduced in 1910 and was like no other sewing machine. Although the 20 was a simple chain stitcher requiring just 40 components, it was well engineered with a cast iron body. Compared to other toy sewing machines of its era, and indeed since then until the present, it is far more like a miniature adult machine than a child’s toy.

This particular machine (currently on display at the museum) was introduced to the public in the 1920s. And though (as said) it was intended to be a children’s toy it was a very workable machine.