Thanksgiving and my Uncle Neil- (Excerpt from 'Our Ohio Story'.

                           My Uncle Neil

 Uncle Neil was a kind of legend in our family. He was a small man who had odd habits that sometimes puzzled and frustrated our side of the Wilson tribe.

  Neil was married to my father’s sister Janie, and I was never certain if she was a sister, or a step sister to my father. There was some kind of distance, yet strangely a bond between them, but my father was such a reticent and sometimes surly man, I was never able to gather the courage to question exactly what was going on. We would get together with Aunt Janie and Uncle Neil for holidays, and I would listen closely when they talked for any information that would clear the matter up for me. Instead of sharing stories about their childhood, the small ‘remember when?’ stuff that gives children insights about their parents everything was kept within the range of the moment. They were like people stuck on an elevator for a few uncomfortable minutes waiting for the time to pass. The best answer I had to this riddle was my father and Aunt must have shared a lousy childhood or had a terrible falling out at one time.

  Aunt Janie was a sweet and kind pleasantly obese Aunt who seemed to have been born with a look of sudden surprise or astonishment on her face. Being my father’s sister, she shared Dad’s bright intense blue eyes, but the resemblance stopped there. My Dad’s eyes had a very singular aspect that denoted fixity of purpose, or indignation at the world around him. As children, we were never really sure when he was boiling mad at everyone and everything or just needed more roughage in his diet.

   In contrast, Aunt Janie’s eyes though roughly similar, always seemed wide open with a look of childlike wonder and curiosity. Aunt Janie sometimes had trouble following what was going on about her, and was given over to odd silences that made conversations difficult. Dad claimed she was “a little forgetful”; but Mom preferred to call her “just crazy”.

  But let’s get back to Uncle Neil. Neil was a small man with slightly greying hair, who made a habit of over dressing for family get-togethers. He paid much attention to his hair, had neatly manicured nails, and was always closely shaved. Quiet and reserved, he was always courteous but somehow remote.

  Every year Mom and Dad would gather for Thanksgiving or Christmas visits with Aunt Janie and Uncle Neil for a big meal, a long afternoon of drinking beer and euchre. The card game euchre was the highlight of the day, though the game was often interrupted because Aunt Janie often forgot whose turn it was, or trump her partner’s lead during card play.  Traditionally, the big event was planned weeks in advance, with phone calls exchanged, a date set, and the big meal planned. Dad left the logistics to Mom and she engineered how to move five kids, the green bean casseroles, carrot salads, and candied yams in the old station wagon for the trip to St. Marys, Ohio.  

 
  But there was another annual tradition strictly observed that was the most fun for us kids to watch. Everyone in the family knew Uncle Neil was wily cheapskate, and he practiced his craft whenever possible. Somehow Uncle Neil would always find a way to stiff my Dad for most of the costs of the holiday meal. Every year Dad would swear on the long drive to St. Marys that Uncle Neil would not ‘nail him this time’. My father, a serious and self-possessed man never saw it coming, and was always undone, much to our enjoyment.

   It always started simply enough like this: We would arrive for the big holiday meal and Uncle Neil would turn to my Dad and say; “Jack, I’m a little low on gas in my car, can we take yours and pick up some more soda?”

  Dad would of course say yes, and we would go to the grocery store and pick up pop, and Uncle Neil would decide we needed a case or two of beer, some more pretzels, coleslaw, and they were also out of milk; he remembered suddenly. Generally the grocery cart would be full by the time we made it to the checkout stand.

  All the goodies were loaded onto the grocer’s belt and totaled up, and Dad looked up and discovered Uncle Neil was gone. A few uncomfortable minutes would pass as more customers would line up behind us waiting for their turn. My sisters and I would exchange knowing glances, trying hard not to laugh and Dad reluctantly swore and paid the bill. By the time we loaded the groceries in the car Uncle Neil would suddenly appear saying:

“I had to get some chips! Golly, Jack you didn’t have to do that, we will settle up when we get home, OK?” But, of course he never did.

  The tradition lasted for years and last time I recall going to St. Marys for Thanksgiving dinner Aunt Janie met us at the door and seemed confused and surprised at our appearance. Even though Mom and Janie had exchanged phone calls weeks before about Thanksgiving dinner, Janie had somehow forgotten. Uncle Neil, my sisters and Dad all went to the grocery store and bought enough beer and food to put together a big Thanksgiving meal for everyone.

  At the checkout stand I watched Dad’s face as Uncle Neil hastily explained he somehow forgot to bring his wallet along and was surprised to see Dad smile. I never understood why, but at the time I was a child and had little understanding of the real meaning of Thanksgiving and family.

My guest appearance and interview on The Paranormal View live radio/podcast show...

Here is a link to last weekend's podcast of my guest appearance on The Paranormal View live radio/podcast show!

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/theparanormalview/episodes/2018-09-24T18_12_10-07_00

Camp Chase and the Lady in Gray

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The REAL Nancy Drew!

The Crosswick Monster!

 “Crosswick Monster”
Waynesville on the banks of the Miami River in Warren County was settled before 1800 by members of the Society of Friends – who were known for their sobriety, honesty, reliability and truthfulness. The following newspaper story has been of interest for almost a century.
Although this is an old-settled neighborhood, and the primitive snakes, in the main, have long since disappeared, except the black, garter, rattlesnake, we are once in a while greeted by the report of some monster of this uncanny tribe.
For several years it has been reported that the track of one above town, of unusual size, had on different occasions been seen in the dust, where it crossed the pike. This new report, however, made the timid fearful, and is so well authenticated that the more incredulous of the big snake stories, are forced to lend an attentive ear.
About one mile north of this place is a little village called Crosswicks – where resides John Lynch who has two boys aged respectively, 13 and 11 years. These boys were at a small creek fishing yesterday.
After sitting on the bank for a short time they heard quite a stir among some old reeds, grass and brush from behind them, and on looking around, they saw a huge monster approaching them rapidly. They screamed and started to run, and the snake, or whatever it might be – for they never saw anything like it before – came close up to the older one, and suddenly throwing out two long arms, or forelegs, seized the boy in its slimy embrace, simultaneously producing two more legs, about four feet long, from … its body, and dragged the boy some 100 yards down the creek to a large sycamore, 26 feet in diameter at the base, hollow, and with a large opening in one side.  Through this aperture the monster attempted to enter with the boy.
Three men – a short distance above where the boys were fishing – hearing their screams and seeing the creature yanking one off, hurried to rescue the child. They reached the tree soon after the snake, who failing to drag the boy into its den, became alarmed, unfastened its fangs and dropped the more than half-dead child to the earth.
Dr L. C. Lukens of Waynesville was summoned to attend him.
In the afternoon about 60 men armed with clubs, dogs, axes, etc., gathered around the sycamore tree to destroy its fearful tenant. They began chopping, when the formidable snake leaped from the aperture, threw out its fore and hind legs, erected itself about 12 to 14 feet, and with the velocity of a race horse, crossed the creek and ran up a small hill, climbed over a fence breaking it down, and continued north a mile until reaching a hole in a large hill under a heavy ledge of rocks.
Some of the men and dogs were so terrified at the beast’s first appearance that they only thought of getting out of the way. But the braver portion followed the frightful thing.
It will be watched for and killed if possible. It is described as being 30 to 40 feet long, 12 to 14 feet tall when erect, 16 inches in diameter, and legs 4 feet long.  It is covered with scales like a lizard’s, of black and white color with large yellow spots. Its head about 16 inches wide, with a long forked tongue, and the mouth inside deep red. The hind legs appeared to be used to give an erect position, its propelling power in its tale.
The forgoing is vouched for by the persons whose names are given above (note left out for brevity, but available in the original) and many more can be given if necessary.

This is a story about a boy named Sue. (Or, in this case Pearl.)

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  Zane Grey was born Pearl Zane Grey in Zanesville, Ohio; a city founded by his great grandfather Ebenezer Zane. There are different stories as to why Zane was given a female name, and while growing up, it caused him much embarrassment and countless fistfights. But just like the Johnny Cash song, he “grew up quick and he grew up mean”. Pearl hated school, was a poor student, and never graduated from high school.

  At an early age Zane was intrigued by history, and developed a love of writing, although his father wanted him to be a dentist.  At that time in rural Ohio was so free of regulation Grey could practice dentistry without a license, and he wrote in his spare time.

Maj. Gen Ambrose E. Burnside VS Clement L. Vallandigham

Click to enlarge.. After Burnside's troops arrested Vallandighham and roughly hauled him to Cincinnati to stand trial in a military court he was asked to enter a plea for the charges against him. Vallandigham said: 'This is a military tribunal. I do not recognize this court's authority to try me!"

Another interesting aspect of this story is Clement Vallandigham's accidental death at the Golden Lamb in Lebanon, Ohio.
  John Zimkus historian at the Warren County Historical Society and author of Historical Footnotes of Lebanon, Ohio wrote a colorful account how Vallandigham died. While representing a defendant in a murder case, Vallandigham enacted his view of what occured at the crime scene. He attempted to prove the murdered man actually shot himself while pulling a pistol out of his pants pocket. Thinking that a pistol he was using as a prop was unloaded, Vallandigham pointed it at himself and pulled the trigger. The gun went off, and Vallandigham was mortally wounded.
Clement Laird Vallandigham was buried at Woodland Cemetery in Dayton, Ohio.

Paul Lawrence Dunbar

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  Paul Laurence Dunbar was an American poet, novelist, and playwright born in Dayton, Ohio in 1872. Dunbar began to write stories and verse when still a child. He was the only African-American student at Dayton’s Central High School and became president the literary society, edited the school newspaper, and member of the debate club. Dunbar was also a classmate and lifelong friend of Orville Wright. Dunbar often helped Orville with literature assignments, while Orville helped Dunbar through math classes.

  During the years the Wrights were involved in the publishing business, Dunbar edited the Wright’s newspapers, and with their help, went on to publish a book of poetry called Oak and Ivy that received national attention.

  In later years, Dunbar went on to write novels and lyrics for In Dahomey the first musical comedy written and performed entirely by African Americans. It was produced on Broadway and successfully toured England and the United States for four years.

  Tragically, in 1900 he was diagnosed with tuberculosis, then often fatal, and was advised by his doctors to drink whisky to alleviate his symptoms. Depression and declining health drove him to dependence on alcohol, and further damaged his health. He died alone and penniless in Dayton on February 6^th, 1906.

  Upon hearing the sad news, the Wrights stepped in to pay for the funeral and make the arrangements for his final resting place. Orville and Wilbur wanted Dunbar to be buried in the same section as Wright family plot but was politely told that Woodlawn Cemetery didn’t allow ‘the colored’ to be buried next to white folks.

  At the time, congress and the ‘monument builders’ of Washington had appropriated funds and had grand plans to build a great monument and tomb for the Wright family, a place of honor befitting the founders of modern aviation.  

  Orville and Wilbur told Woodlawn officials that if that if Dunbar couldn’t be interred in their section, they would move the family plot to Washington, DC. Woodlawn quickly relented when faced with the prospect of losing their celebrities.

   Today, there is no grand mausoleum and monument to the Wrights at Woodlawn. The Wrights’ family plot is hard to find because it is marked only with a modest headstone flanked with short flag poles and small markers on the ground for each member of the Wright family, and nearby; the final resting place of Paul Lawrence Dunbar.

Charles F. Kettering and Grand Theft Auto...

 Kettering was born in Loudenville, Ohio in 1876. He started life as a teacher, even though he had to quit school twice because of poor eyesight. He finally finished his degree in electrical engineering when he was 28.

 In 1909, while working for N.C.R, Charles F. Kettering partnered with electrical engineer Edward Andrew Deeds in his families barn, and invented the world’s first self-starting system for cars. Deeds in turn, showed the self-starting system to Henry Leland, the president of Cadillac Motors who immediately ordered 8,000 starting systems to be installed on his Cadillacs.

  It didn’t seem to matter much to Kettering that  he didn’t actually have the machinery, people, or facilities to complete the order. Kettering and Deeds hadn’t even named the company at that time. This is how Dayton Engineering Laboratories (DELCO) was born. DELCO boomed with the demand for starters, and within two years employed 1,500 people.

     Back in those days General Motors manufactured their cars with slow drying oil based paint that took six to eight hours to dry to the touch. The paint was hand brushed over a primer, and then the cars were left outside for thirty days to allow the paint to cure and harden to a tough, durable finish. Then the cars were brought back in to be buffed for a deep, lustrous shine. This process caused many delays in production, sometimes stopping the assembly line altogether because there simply was not enough room on the premises to park the cars to allow the paint to cure outside.

   Kettering saw this as an opportunity, and began to work with DuPont Paint Company to develop a new automotive finish that he offered to General Motors. He announced his paint would dry to touch in twenty minutes, and didn’t need to be buffed to produce a glossy new car finish.

  DuPont’s leading chemist was unconvinced and said:

  “Not possible Kettering, our people have tried it already. Just can’t be done!” he stated emphatically.

   Undaunted, Kettering asked him to have lunch at his expense; so he could explain the chemical properties of his new product. The executive quickly accepted the offer, knowing Kettering was a legendary cheapskate.

   Over lunch Kettering patiently explained his revolutionary automotive paint theory; and massive production cost benefits to GM's production, but the man was unconvinced and told him so. He tersely thanked Kettering for the meal and left.

   Kettering loitered for a while in the restaurant, and unhurriedly paid the bill as the G.M. executive returned in a panic. He shouted “call the Police my car has been stolen!”

  Kettering followed him back out to the restaurant parking lot and pointed to a car parked in his original spot.

   “Why, there it is!”

   “No” the manager said, “It looks like mine, but my car isn’t that color.”

  “It is now.” Kettering said slowly.

  In truth, Kettering’s staff had stolen the chemists’ car, and then completely repainted it and returned it to its original spot. Bone dry and gleaming in the afternoon sun. A deal with Kettering’s fast dry lacquer paint, for all of G.M’s Automotive Division, was soon signed.