July 2013

July 31, 2013

Cold Showers and Sunsets

If travel wasn’t interesting, it wouldn’t be fun. Keep in mind, though, that the phrase “May you have an interesting life” is both a blessing and a curse.

I mentioned yesterday that I had a blast in Athens, but all good times have to come to an end. I waved goodbye to Curator Jessica at the Athens Museum around 7 p.m., which put me right on my planned departure time of 4 p.m., as calculated in Steinhoff Standard Time.

Heading west into the setting sun can be a bit challenging at times, but it finally gave up someplace about 80 miles from my starting point. When it decided to go to sleep, it went quickly.

No No-Smoking, no sale

I had hoped to get as far as Cincinnati, so I started looking for lodging in the Florence, Ky., area, west of there. The first place I checked had only one room available and it was a smoker. No sale.

The second wanted $101. The third was even more proud of its rooms: that chain wanted $139. I didn’t have Friend Anne along this trip, so I couldn’t even pull the old “we’re newlyweds who have had a spat and need separate rooms at a discount to save our marriage” argument.

Just as I was resigned to heading west another hour or so to get to the cheap seats, I spotted a [Name withheld] Motel. It had an older look and the parking lot was filled with at least two dozen 18-wheelers, most of them car haulers. The lobby was a bit smoky. One of the guys behind the front desk sported a fair array of jailhouse tattoos. I hope that’s what they were, because if they weren’t, he overpaid the “artist.”

“How much for a non-smoking room for one person for one night?”

“$53.96.”

Is it clean?

I can overlook a lot for the difference between $139 and $53.96. “Is it clean?”

“Yep.” (I wasn’t exactly sure his standards and mine were anywhere close, but I handed over my plastic and was awarded Room 251.)

It wasn’t bad. It had extension cords running all over the place to provide enough outlets for modern travelers, but I’d rather have that than no power. The Wi-Fi was fast enough and didn’t require a password. The AC sounded like a jet taking off every time the compressor kicked in, but it did put out cool air. The bed was great.

I set the alarm for 9:45 and slept like a log. I got up, checked my mail and figured I had just enough time to jump in the shower, pack up and be out by the 11 a.m. checkout deadline.

Tub had funky uni-knob

I turned the water on in the tub. It had one of those uni-knobs where you don’t know what the setting is, so I turned it full left and got cold water. I turned it full right and got cold water. I turned on both taps in the sink and got cold water. I was beginning to detect a pattern. I called the front desk. “Does this place not have hot water or does it just take a long time to get to 251?” I asked in what I hoped was a pleasant tone.

“It’s broken,” a harried female voice said, “We have someone on the way to fix it.”

When I got to the lobby, all the trucks had pulled out and there was a zoom of motorcycle riders getting ready to leave. The woman I supposed attached to the earlier harried voice was talking with some guests who were checking out. (She must have gone to the same tattoo artist as the night guy, by the way.) I overheard her saying to a coworker, “I’m not going to have anything in my drawer by the end of the morning.”

“I guess I’m not going to make your day any better,” I said. “The last time I stayed in a hotel without hot water was in 1958. What can we do to make it right?”

“I can knock $20 off,” she said.

“Look, I’m not looking for a free room. I slept very well last night. On the other hand, I’m going to have to smell myself for another six hours. How about we split the cost of the room?”

She agreed, so I got a good night’s sleep for $28.96 instead of $139 at a fancy joint. I don’t think I’ll be going back again, though.

Rain slowed me down

When I called Mother to tell her I was rolling west this morning, she warned me that I was going to run into a bunch of rain. I paused to put on a fresh coat of Rain-X on the windshield.

Traffic was light and running smoothly for the most part. My Waffle House breakfast had scarcely settled before the first splatters of rain showed up. The splatters put their hands together and turned into heavy rain. Fortunately, that didn’t last too long. The next three or four hours were just light, steady rain.

Rain at the rest stop snagged me

It wasn’t the rainfall while driving that slowed me down. It was the rainfall when I stopped to take a short nap at an Illinois rest area. I’ve written about how I usually set my alarm for 22 minutes, then wake up refreshed enough to log another three or four hours.

This afternoon I decided I wasn’t THAT sleepy, so I set it for 17 minutes and dozed off to the sound of the rain pounding softly on the roof above me. When the alarm went off, I liked the sound well enough to tack on another 12 minutes.

Twice.

If I hadn’t needed to get moving, I think I could have dozed to that for hours.

So, I’m back in Cape for a few days. I’m afraid to turn on the hot water tap.

July 30, 2013July 30, 2013

The Downard Sisters

I spent a most enjoyable day playing historic sleuth and running all over southern Ohio with Curator Jessica looking for (and finding) something I’ll write about when I don’t have white-line fever. I got a late start (what’s new?) and only made it just west of Covington, Ky.

I’ll tease you a bit with a quote: “I knew my grandfather about as well as any of his grandkids: I knew where he hid his whiskey.” When somebody tells you that over the phone, you HAVE to track him down.

One side trip was to the Athens Cemetery on West Union Street. Jessica challenged one of my ancient photos as not having been taken there. I, of course, had to prove I was right.

Erin and Jamie

While there, she took me to one of her favorite grave markers: one for two sisters, Erin Michelle and Jamie Leigh Downard. Erin was born in 1982 and died in April 1989. Her sister was born in 1984 and died in January 1989.

How did they die?

You have to wonder why two young sisters would be taken so close to each other. Was it a car accident? An illness? I guess that’s another one of those things I’ll have to look up the next time I get to Athens.

A sense of whimsy

This marker is unique, but not as heart-rending as the Downard sculpture. I’d love to hear the story behind the license tag etched on Kay Anne Blackburn’s stone.

July 29, 2013

Knights, Eagles, Moose, Oh, My

Small Ohio towns have plenty of one thing: buildings once occupied by fraternal organizations. Glouster, population 1,791 in 2010, had at least four in one block. This ornate building used by the Knights of Pythias, was labeled K. of P. Block.

A whole menagerie

In addition to the Knights, the street hosted a Moose Lodge, Masonic Hall and an Eagles Aerie.

Corner in late 1960s

I’m pretty sure this is the same corner taken in the late 1960s. I apologize if the photo looks dark. It’s hard to judge color and tones on a laptop because the appearance changes depending on the angle of the screen.

Football stadium built by WPA

Here’s another of those federal stimulus projects left over from The Depression. I wonder how many football games have been played in it since it was built in 1940?

Home of The Tomcats

The Home of the Tomcats looks like it has been freshly painted. They built it to last.

July 28, 2013July 28, 2013

Knocking on Doors

I wanted to see if I could find any trace of the house on Robinson Road where I photographed Bill Robinson and Jesse King in 1969. I drove the length of the short road and didn’t see a house like it, so I doubled back to see if any of the land forms were the same. I got no answer at the first two houses I tried. At the third, I was greeted by two dogs about half my size who threatened to lick me to death. A young man working on a bicycle pedal was almost as friendly as his dogs (except for the licking part), but he was of no help.

I drove down a lane and heard a dog barking inside a trailer. When I knocked on the door, the dog came charging down the hallway and launched himself at the window at about neck-high. They (a) didn’t need a doorbell and (b) probably didn’t have many door-to-door salesmen (who survived.)

I had better luck at the last house: Dave Allen was working out in his driveway. After I explained my mission, he thought he might have a vague recollection of the two men, but said his dad might be better able to help. He reached out for him on his cellphone. While we were waiting, Dave showed me two farm tractors he was restoring and told me that the Allen family had been living on that land since 1850. Nobody else’s name has ever been on it, he said.

Norm Allen

Norman K. Allen, 77, was a delight to talk with. He thought the house might have been one “just before you go down the steep hill with the curve. We didn’t go down there much.” He said it was possible the old house might have been reconfigured, but a second glance convinced us that it must have been replaced with a newer one if we were in the right place. (I’m not convinced we were. Some points of the terrain didn’t add up for me.)

Another Allen was fascinating: Capt. Josiah Benton Allen was one of the men responsible for the erection of the Civil War memorial on the Main Green at Ohio University. When he enlisted in the Union Army, his mother didn’t want him to go. “She chased him all the way from the house to the train,” Norm said. He was 19.

Capt. Allen lost arm at Vickburg

The information Dave and Norm provided pretty much dovetailed with a biography of Capt. Allen in the 1883 History of Hocking Valley: “July 4, 1861, he enlisted in Company C, Thirtieth Ohio Volunteer Infantry as a private. In April, 1862, he was promoted to First Orderly Sergeant. He participated in a number of battles and skirmishes, the most important being Giles Court-House, Carnitax Ferry, Second Bull Run, Centerville, South Mountain, Antietam, Haines’s Bluff, Jackson, Champion Hill, Black River and Vicksburg.

At the last, May 22, 1863, while storming Fort Gregg, he being in command of his company at the time, all but fourteen of his men were killed, he himself losing his left arm. After submitting to two amputations of the same arm, and being unfitted for service thereby, he was discharged for disability in 1861.

He returned to Athens and attended the Ohio University until the close of the college year in 1866, then went to Missouri and that fall was engaged in the insurance business. During the winter he taught school in the village of Maysville, of that State; returned to Athens in April, 1867, and the following fall was, without opposition, elected Recorder of Athens County on the Republican ticket. He held that office by being re-elected, for twelve years. From January to June, 1880, he held the stewardship of the Athens Asylum for the Insane. Losing that position through a change in the administration, he was appointed Recording Clerk in the office of the Secretary of State at Columbus, in December, 1880, remaining there until January, 1883.”

Historical treasure trove

Saturday evening, I was meeting with some of the folks from the Athens Historical Society and Museum and giving them a recap of my day. “Does the name ‘Josiah Benton Allen’ mean anything to you?” I asked.

The room suddenly got quiet, then someone said, “Well, duh, yes. He was a big deal.”

“What would you say if I told you I spent two hours with his descendants. Oh, and by the way, they have his Purple Heart and some of his original correspondence?”

Saying something like that to historians elicits a Pavlovian response. “How did you meet these people?”

“Oh, just by knocking on doors. That’s what I used to do.”

(You can click on the photos to make them larger.)