The old home town--Mt. Morris, Illinois

J. J. Slayback posted his travels in northern Illinois on Facebook, including Mt. Morris, Oregon and Byron. Here's the piece on Mt. Morris.

"The clouds had thickened into a dull gray blanket as raindrops began to pepper my windshield. I flicked on the wipers, smearing the drops with the dozen or so bugs that had comicozied themselves against the glass during the long drive into Ogle County earlier that day. Running low on daylight, I came to a complete stop that my drivers ed techer would be proud of at the crossroads of Illinois Route 2 and 64. I nudged my friend Dave awake and fished a quarter from the cupholder, the one usually reserved for a rickety Aldi cart

“Heads, Mount Morris. Tails, Heyworth.”

The coin shot off my thumb, ricocheted off the cloth ceiling, and disappeared into no man’s land between the seat and console, where most fast food french fries go to die. After retrieving it, I made sure not to muff the next flip. With the concentration of a receiver on special teams waiving for a fair catch in the Super Bowl I caught the quarter. Flipping it over to reveal the results. Tails it was. Ignoring the Father of Our Country’s advice to head home, I cranked the steering wheel right and drove toward Mount Morris.

When I pulled into town, the aura was the complete opposite of the one I had left behind [Oregon], where the sounds of celebration of Byron still faintly echoed in my ears. Mount Morris was silent with the hush only interrupted by the late fall wind rustling leaves on the ground. I felt a bit like Burgess Meredith in that Twilight Zone episode where he's the last man on Earth, except here there was no ruin, no fallout, just a stillness that felt otherworldly.

The towns square layout was unlike anything I had seen yet, especially for a village of barely three thousand. Where you would expect a gazebo, or a rusty teeter totter, there stood a cluster of distinguished old brick and stone buildings, the remnants, as I soon learned from a plaque, of an old college. Not just any college, either, but the first institution of higher education in northern Illinois, founded in 1839.

Ivy had conquered the limestone, red and deep green leaves clinging stubbornly to the façade, holding out hope for one last day of summer, like we all do this time of year. Standing there, I felt like my lone semester at community college had not earned me the right to admire it, as if I needed a master’s degree just to qualify to look at it. Locals still call it “the campus,” and it was not what I expected from a non stoplight town, but I have learned to never underestimate a place where life doesn't hold itself in such wreckless abandoned of "maybe I should speed up on the yellow turn of the light." Each building stood as beautiful as the next, almost begging students to return for one more semester that would never come.

Walking back to Wesley Street where the businesses made their home, I found a small town history buff’s dream, plaques. One after another. I could barely take thirty steps without sliding my reading glasses down from the top of my Red Sox cap to absorb the next free history lesson.

There was a bandshell just off the road, the back of the stage reading “One Nation Under God.” A plaque on it honored Warren G. Reckmeyer, director of the Kable Concert Band from 1957 to 2015, a band that, in fact, will be celebrating its 130th year in 2026, covering everything from pop and classical to, my favorite, big band. I have been a swing nerd for over thirty years, so I pursed my lips like a trumpet out of tune and hummed a shaky version of The Band Played On. Most folks prefer the Stones or the Beatles. Me, I am a sucker for Guy Lombardo.

Mount Morris did not just host one of the oldest colleges in northern Illinois, it also printed its way into American history. The Kable brothers built a publishing powerhouse here in the early 1900s, and at its height the presses roared day and night, turning out magazines, catalogs, and books that ended up on kitchen tables across the country. So much so that during the 1930s, it was one of only two towns in the United States that did not feel the weight of the decade. Hershey, Pennsylvania, had chocolate. Mount Morris had ink, paper, and the relentless rhythm of a printing press. While the rest of the country tightened its belt, this little village kept the lights on and the presses rolling, proof that sometimes a small town with a big idea can outlast the biggest storms, even one as menacing as the Great Depression.

Where most towns I visit celebrate the trails of the 16th President, here I stumbled across the 40th. Ronald Reagan was in Mount Morris on a cold day in 1963 for the dedication of the Freedom Bell. He was closer to Bedtime for Bonzo than ending the Cold War at that point, but that doesn't hinder the town from proudly displaying a jacket in its museum that he borrowed from a local on that blustery April day. Point blank‐ all towns have history, but I’ve never been a fan of chasing it on my phone or sitting in an old dusty library. I prefer to see it celebrated openly, just as Mount Morris does. From its ivy clad halls of higher learning to the enduring power of the printed word, to a Freedom Bell rung by Ronald Reagan himself. The band still plays on in Mount Morris Illinois - And to think i almost took the advice of a shopping cart quarter.

Keeping in touch with the class of 1957

 I was talking to my brother in Illinois the other day while sitting in our driveway soaking up the beautiful weather. One of the advantages of our high-tech communication--cell phones. He mentioned that he and a few of his class members of 1959 had gathered recently--maybe 10 of them.  A few women from my high school class (1957) also met the week before for coffee.  An e-mail had gone out discussing some 1950s memories of the "campus" in our hometown.  It wasn't our high school campus, but the old college campus that our parents attended until it closed a year after a disastrous fire in 1930. It's still called the "campus."  One memory popped up of one of our more unusual classmates, Neal Johnston, who marched to a different drummer, and died in 2010. Here's his obituary from my class blog. MMHS1957: Neal Johnston, class member, dies May 24

My parents met on a "blind" date, but my Dad did change his school plans after that so he could attend Mt. Morris College after he and Mom met.  Today is her birthday.

Seat belts--early memory

"Click it or ticket. Buckle up." That is the banner at the intersection of Tremont and Kenny Rds. Golf course on the west. Lutheran church, apartments and city building on the east. And a memory flashes of the first time I wore a seat belt in a car. Does that ever happen to you? Useless memories pop up out of nowhere, but I can't remember how to use the TV remote. I don't have any grandchildren to bore with my stories (however, I loved my grandparents' stories).

I was the receptionist/secretary/labor at Foxbilt Feeds in Mt. Morris, IL. I've forgotten the name of the owner, but he had a fantastic red Ford convertible, probably 1955. I answered the phone and copied down orders for delivery. The car had seat belts, not sure if they were required then or were an add on option. But I must have gone on some deliveries to farmers, otherwise I wouldn't have been in the car. It was a part time, summer job, and my mom took me to work since I was too young to drive. I looked online and Foxbilt does seem to still supply feed and fertilizer.

Time travel with memories

We've both been trying to remember the name of an electrician from Cleveland who was on Bob's Haiti team and was a friend on Facebook (until he blocked me because he was a Democrat).  But so far, we have not come up with a name.  But we will.  Long after we need it.

A few weeks ago, it came to me that I was forgetting a lot of names, faces and events (duh!), and I should write down a list of all the names of the people I remembered. What a dumb idea, I thought, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I kept seeing a list in categories.  Forreston, Mt. Morris, church, Lakeside, college days, So, I finally started one in word processing, although at first, I was going to hand write it. I decided if I did it in the word processor, I could alphabetize, and use the "find" feature if I didn't remember where a name was. It's now up to about 12-13 pages. 

 I do have some printed church directories, our school annuals, our Lakeside property owners' directory, some club directories, etc. to use as guides. I also have the Mt. Morris Past and Present, and the Mt. Morris War Record. If there are photos, I look at them, and try to remember if or when I've ever really "known" the person. It's been interesting. I can remember many faces of the class of '52, but not '58 or '59. Some people I still know on Facebook like Dick Butler or Jim Isenhart. Then I have a little symbol next to the name if they have died and put in the death date if I know it. I remember a lot of the parents of friends, like Nancy's, and Lynne's, and Sylvia's. So, I'm adding those names too. I remember the people on our block on Hitt St. in Mt. Morris from when I was 4 or 5, because I use to walk into their houses and talk to them! For some I have to find sources for first names because they were, "Mrs. Aufterbeck" or "Mrs. Duncan," since we didn't call adults by first names. I knew so many adults from when I worked at the drug store and at the town library, so I'd better write down the names while I can still remember. There were a lot of farmers who came into the drug store, some all the way from Polo, and most of those names I've forgotten. I used to babysit a lot, so I'm trying to recall those names. There was a Jewish couple who lived on N. Hannah, I think their name was Fishman, but I've forgotten their first names, and their kids' names. Maybe it will come to me--in the middle of the night! :-)

Anyway, it's something to do when it's too hot to go outside. Who knows if I'll ever finish it.

  

  

 

Debby Diehl, obituary

Debra Lynn (Nall) Diehl, 67, of Mt. Morris, Illinois, passed away peacefully on July 5, 2023, after suffering from some heart issues earlier last month.

Debby was born to the late Buddy Roger & Marjorie (McCue) Nall, on December 8, 1955, in Beloit, Wisconsin. Debby married Brian Diehl on February 11, 2005. He was the love of her life.

https://www.finchfuneral.com/obituary/Debra-Diehl?

I'd never met Debby--she was married to my father's cousin, Brian, who was 11 years younger than me, so I'd only seen her Facebook page.  Brian is the son my aunt Ada, so he is my first cousin, once removed.

Remembering elementary school teachers (two schools)

 I tossed all my blogging notebooks several weeks ago as part of my Lenten house cleaning.  That's where I kept my notes while reading the Wall St. Journal and the Columbus Dispatch back in the day when I still went out for coffee every morning.   I pulled out one sheet that had information for 2005 and 2006.  It was about i-pad ear, and apparently younger and younger patients with hearing loss are turning up at doctors' offices, according to WSJ 1-10-06.  It seems there were 38 million MP3 players shipped in 2005.  However, when I turned over the sheet, I had started a list of all the teachers I could remember.  I checked my blog, and it seems I never finished what I'd started. I think I was doing a Thursday 13. So, let's try that:

Miss Marguerite Flora, First grade, she lived across the street from us with her parents. I wrote a blog about her when she died at 99. Collecting My Thoughts

Mrs. Greta (?) Huntley, Second grade.  She attended the same Lutheran church we did. I visited the church sometime in the 80s and she remembered me 40 years later.

Miss DeWall, Third grade (my favorite teacher of all times) As I recall, she died rather young, when I was in college.

Mrs. Hiteman, Fourth grade, very young, newly married.

Miss Michael, Fifth and sixth grade, she also had taught my father in Polo, Illinois. She lived with her sister about a block from our house.

Miss Jennie DeGraff, principal, and she apparently knew my grandmother because she was in her address book

Mr. John I. Masterson, superintendent, JoElla's father.  In retirement he was the pastor at Pinecrest, and lived in Mt. Morris.

Mrs. Beth Amsrud, music; she was like a circuit rider and taught in Forreston, Mt. Morris, Oregon, plus the country schools.  Used to put on charming musicals--great fun.

Our family moved from Forreston to Mt. Morris in March 1951.

Mrs. Beth or Betsy (?) Withers, sixth grade. I have her in a class photo MMHS1957: The old elementary school

Mr. Ray Appler, nor sure where he fit in--perhaps came in to teach math. Later Supt. of Schools Ogle Co., WWII veteran, Marines.  Photo at our 50th class reunion along with Katie Dirksen and Warren Reckmeyer.

Mr. David Rahn.  He taught the other 7th grade students, but our class had him, too.

Mrs. Verna Westfall, 7th grade. Class photo. MMHS1957: Mrs. Westfall's 7-A class 1952

Mrs. Mamie Knodle, 8th grade home economics.

Mrs. Rosella Opsand (Warren) Burstrom, 8th grade.  She also directed class plays when we were in high school, and Warren was our physics and chemistry teacher. Died young (1981). 

That's 15, but if I left out the two principals, I'd have a Thursday 13.

Art show reception this Sunday

 Reception December 11, 2022, 2-4 p.m.

Bob and Norma, married for 62 years and UALC members since 1976, have both been painting since 1972 and this show is the story of their years together with a few samples of their watercolors and acrylics. Both were interested in art as children, but only Bob pursued it as a career and avocation. Norma enjoyed a library career. He became an architect with fine arts and design classes in high school and college, plus some classes at an art institute as a child. Norma had the family dining room table with art supplies and paper, but no classes. Her teachers in kindergarten and first grade “featured” her art of a May pole dance, and horses were scribbled in the margins of school papers and books. The Bruces met at the University of Illinois in 1959 and married in 1960, but art really wasn’t a focus. Bob’s interest in painting was rekindled by his friend Ned Moore in 1972, so he dug out his old brushes from college art classes. That piqued Norma’s interest so she began taking a few workshops with local artists and later at Lakeside. 

They’ve chosen paintings that tell about their lives. In the library lounge are some stories about Illinois where Norma grew up and where they vacationed with their children, Phoebe and Phil, in the 1960s-70s. Norma’s mother had renovated her parents’ farm home in the 1960s near Franklin Grove, Illinois, as a retreat center and the Bruce family enjoyed roaming northern Illinois looking for farm scenes to paint. Included are paintings of family, two by Bob of Phil who died in 2020, Norma’s childhood friends and family from the 1940s, and her paternal grandmother in her wedding dress. Norma’s grandparents owned the Lustron in Mt. Morris on the postcard. It then was purchased years later by her father after her mother died in 2000.

 
In the hall in keeping with the rural and farm theme in the library lounge they’ve hung some flowers and vegetables, although they don’t garden. These are usually from a workshop at Lakeside or a “how to” book. Also in the hall are paintings of animals—Norma particularly liked horses, and owned one as a youngster (no paintings of him).

Also in the hall they’ve included paintings of travels after retirement in Ireland, Israel, Egypt, Alaska, and Spain—two borrowed from the current owners for this show. Bob went with the UALC mission group to Haiti for 10 years and taught architecture there. At the library door is Bob’s painting of three children from Westerville who were neighbors at Lakeside reading their Bible together. They are homeschooled and Bob helped with their art instruction. Also you’ll see Bob’s paintings of two UALC pastors who’ve had a big place in their lives.

 
The Bruce family began vacationing at Lakeside on Lake Erie in 1974 and owned a summer home there from 1988 to 2022. Paintings from those years are in the Fireside Lounge. Bob taught many classes at the Rhein Arts Center in Lakeside and both took advantage of the classes in watercolor, acrylic, pen and ink, jewelry making, silk painting and pottery. Bob has been in the Lakeside summer art show for over 40 years and in 2021 published a book of his Lake Erie paintings.

 
1. Driftwood, Lakeside - Norma
2. Lakeside Transportation - Norma
3. Romancing the Freighter, Lakeside - Norma
4. Bring Three Friends, Lakeside - Norma
5. Marblehead Lighthouse - Norma
6. Post cards of Lakeside – Norma
7. Ice Cream More Ice Cream, Lakeside – Robert
8. Lakeside Women’s Club – Robert
9. Werden’s Porch, Lakeside – Robert
10. Lighthouse Spiral Staircase, Marblehead – Robert
11. Mouse Island Race, Lakeside – Robert
12. Lakeside Orchestra – Robert
13. Keeping Watch, Norma’s father, 1944 – Norma
14. Playmates, Forreston, 1946 – Norma
15. Grandma’s Wedding Dress, 1912 - Norma
16. Phoebe and Phil at the Marblehead Lighthouse - Norma
17. Snow Horse, Forreston, 1950 - Norma
18. Shuffleboard at Lakeside, 1974 - Norma
19. Phil Bruce with Guitar, 2018 - Robert
20. Phil Bruce, 2012 - Robert
21. Daysville Road Farm, Franklin Grove, 1974 - Norma
22. Olive in her Garden, Franklin Grove - Robert
23. Red Barns Vignette, Franklin Grove - Robert
24. Whitney House, Franklin Grove - Robert
25. Reflection no Horizon, 1974, painted at Franklin Grove farm - Robert
26. Red Geraniums in Brown Pot - Norma
27. Pink Geraniums - Norma
28. White Daisies – Norma
29. Squash in a Bowl – Norma

30. Vegetables on Lace – Norma

31. Purple Iris – Norma 

32. Jackie’s Daffodils - Norma 

33. Hall Children Reading their Bible -Robert 

34. Pastor Dave Drumel - Robert 

35. Pastor Paul Ulring - Robert 

36. Mendenhall Glacier, 2001 – Robert 

37. Camel and Pyramids, 2009 – Robert 

38. Wailing Wall, Jerusalem, 2009 – Robert 

39. Haitian Girl, Ouanaminthe, Haiti – Robert 

40. Ireland Landscape, 2007 – Robert 

41. Street Scene, Grenada Spain, 2015 - Robert 

42. Postcards of Alaska, 2001 – Norma 

43. Bay Horse, 1974 – Norma 

44. Mustang – Norma 

45. Cat on a Hot Pink Porch, Lakeside – Norma 

46. Baby Duck – Norma 4

47. The Plaza, Grenada Spain, 2015 – Robert 

48. Corbett Lustron, Mt. Morris, 2001 – Norma 

49. Mark fishing at Lakeside, 2022—Robert 

50. Friend fishing at Lakeside, 2022—Robert

 #38

 #21 

Aunt Leta and Uncle Ben

I can't recall when I signed up for Family Search, the huge Mormon data base of genealogy, but every now and then I get an interesting e-mail alerting me that there's new information in my family tree. Lask week it was the marriage certificate of my Aunt Leta and Uncle Ben. She was my grandmother's sister, and he was my grandfather's cousin. She lived in Illinois and he lived in Tennessee, but for some reason (I never heard a family story about it) they were married in Henerson Kentucky.  In my memory, they were always "old," but I was surprised to see they didn't get married until 1940, Ben was 46 and Leta was 34. Leta's baby sister, Ada, who would have been about 26, was one of the witnesses. They had no children, but Ben had a son Gene from a first marriage who was mentally challenged. Gene died in 1999 having lived many years in a care facility, and by then there was almost no one to look after the final arrangements and burial. Except my dad who was in his 80s. He made the arrangements and went to the cemetery with a few other distant cousins in the cold and snow to pay respects, because that's what families do. I think he got pneumonia. You just never know what old memories will show up in your e-mail.

Childhood memories of traveling to Chicago, guest blogger

Dave Graf recalls: "When I was a kid (starting as early as age 5), I loved to take Route 64 to Chicago to visit my grandparents. They moved there when WWII was over. It was more fun than going into the Windy City by the Tollway. Names such as Sycamore, St. Charles, Itasca, Bensonville--(we turned off of 64 and took Rte 83 to Irving Pk)--were MAGIC names. Even Kings, IL was "magic" because as far as I was concerned, Kings was where we broke loose from our local area. The closer to Chicago we got, the more excited I was. I told you the story about when I went to Arlington Park with the Jewetts. We ate at the Hotel Baker, in St. Charles on that day (*)when Steve and I stared from outside the window, looking at, and smacking our lips at the people eating inside. Unfortunately, Norm caught us--but that's another story. Mom and Dad stopped at the Log Cabin, located right next to the Fox River. If I remember right, the Latrines were in the basement and there was a glassy area where you could see how the river looked at that level. I also remember a Wurlitzer Juke Box they had in the dining area at one time. I was fascinated by the way the colors in the tubes changed. Now Jim and I sat in the back seat on these excursions--and we would push, punch and pester each other much of the way in. The reason we behaved at the Log Cabin was that if we got TOO wild back there, Dad would pull over, off the road before we got to the Cabin. He would say something like this, Do you boys see those chimneys with smoke coming out of them? Those buildings are the Reformatory for Boys--and unless you promise to settle down, we will turn right now--and head over there!" The first few times we were afraid he would do just that, but later on we wised up, grinned at each other when the folks weren't looking--and were well behaved because it was nearing chow time. Somebody told me a couple years ago that their parents did the same thing!

We turned onto 83 at Montana Charlie's Steakhouse. I would have loved to have eaten a huge steak there later in life, but I suppose it's gone. We drove Past Kiddieland, in Addison, IL, a Seminary called "Our Lady of the Snows" I believe (that name rings a bell). Then right from (I think Harlem) onto Irving....and there it was! It used to scare the pants off of me--"Dunning Mental Health Facility!" Every so often, some of the patients would be right up to the iron fence that surrounded the place! The Reform School was nothing, next to Dunning!

On to Irving Park. The bus route ended at Narragansett, and returned to the run to the East, near the Lake. When I was about 12, I'd get onto that (electric) Irving Park bus and go from one end to the other. I memorized every stop and where it was: Calif (2000), Western (24), Cicero (48)., Austin 6000) etc. Past Nicky Chevrolet "With the Backward K". We'd go to Drake Avenue, turn North and head to my Nana's home at 4332 N. Drake, just South of Montrose (4000 W). And I was in Heaven. We would all sit on the 2nd floor on the porch, in the back by the alley, in the night and listen to the steam trains rattle by on an overpass about 6 blocks away. The RR was the "Soo Line". Nana's mother and father lived in the same "bungalow". We did this for years. I would sit up on that same porch with my Great Grandfather and listen to the Cub games. I learned OTHER "Magic Names"--Sauer, Rush, Baumholtz, Minner, Caveretta, Pafko etc. Magic names, and Magic Times--Trips to the City with the Big Shoulders. Maybe someday, God will return it to a wonderful city to visit--as well as a great place to live in!"

This time next year we'll be laughing; a memoir by Jacqueline Winspear

 Our book club met yesterday (via Zoom) to discuss Jacqueline Winspear's memoir.  She is the author of the Maisie Dobbs series, that my husband loves and has read every title on the list.  I've only read a few of them.  Because it was on our 2021-2022 list and he loves her, I bought the book for him as a Christmas gift so I could read it! https://jacquelinewinspear.com/books/this-time-next-year-well-be-laughing/

I didn't find the memoir all that compelling, but what I enjoyed were those memories with which I could identify although I am 15 years older and grew up "across the pond." She is British (now lives in California) and grew up with WWII stories told by her parents and I lived in northern Illinois hearing my parents' stories of the Great Depression.

Two chapters (the book is not linear and each seems to stand alone as if she had written them for a class, and maybe she did) resonated for me--horses and neighbors.  Young Jackie loved horses and wrote about her first encounter in her long relationship, even to this day, with horses.  Sort of like mine.  I remember the day (although not the date) I fell in love with horses.  I think it's memorable because when our family was living on highway 64 in little Mt. Morris I probably never saw a horse except in the movies or in a parade.  My grandparents lived on a farm between Franklin Grove and Ashton, but there were no horses.  When we moved to Forreston in 1946 to a small farm house on the west edge of town there was a fenced 10 acre field right at our back yard that had several horses. I was fascinated; I fell in love. From that day forward I wanted a horse, I dreamed about owning a horse, I drew pictures of horses, I began reading all the horse series like Black Stallion and Marguerite Henry. When I finally got a 2 wheeler bike, it became a horse, at recess during play time I WAS a horse, and when in 1947 we moved to a better home, I became acquainted with the Ranz men, Charlie and Raymond, father and son horse and cattle dealers who had a barn--with horses! When I was old enough to earn my own money, it was saved quarter by dime in my "Marathon" bank (my dad delivered fuel oil for Marathon). How much money can an 8 or 9 year old earn to save for a horse?  By delivering the Rockford Morning Star through the snow and rain, and by babysitting by age 10, apparently a lot. We moved back to Mt. Morris in March 1951, and that summer I babysat for $5/week (a magnificent sum for an 11 year old). Like Jackie's parents, mine had made a promise--I could have a horse if I had enough money. By the time I was in seventh grade I had saved $100.00--about $1,000 in today's value.  I counted several times a week. One day I came home from my babysitting job and there on the railing of our house on Hannah Avenue was a leather, western saddle (not sure about the bridle).  My dad got my old friend Raymond Ranz to look at a horse I wanted--a lovely roan mare my friend Mary Ann owned. He declared her "unsound"-- she had a hip problem which is probably why Mary Ann was selling her. Then dad found a chestnut and white pinto gelding owned by the Orr family who lived a few miles away on the road to Dixon.  I had never seen the horse, but he was bought sight unseen by me, and my dad rode him to our house on Hannah (how he went back for his car I don't know).  And my happy story ends there, because if you ever want to fall out of love with horses, just own one and try to support their upkeep on what a 12 year old can earn!

One of the other stories in her memoir was about her neighbors at the Terrace, one of the places the Winspears lived.  There were the Martins and Jenners who took her to Sunday School (may be the only mention of church in her memoir), Elsie who took care of her own mother, two nosy sisters, the interesting Polly who apparently was a prostitute, Auntie Marion and Uncle Bryn, and Pat and Ken, teachers who had no children of their own. So I immediately wandered back to my old neighborhood on Rt. 64, with the Aufderbecks on one side and the Crowells, Ruth and Earl, on the other. Further down the street were the Ballards, my great grandparents, and the Potters. Behind us were the Rittenhouses, the Zickhurs, the Balluffs, and the Leopolds, plus some others whose names I've forgotten. Mike and Tommy and I would ride our tricycles up and down Hitt St. and around the corner to Mike's house. But I seemed to wander in and out of the houses of the neighbors--don't remember anyone telling me I couldn't. 

 Ruth and Earl had a box of toys that were charming--much more desirable than those I had to share with my siblings.  Ruth made two cloth dolls for me, Blue Doll and White Doll, and I still have White Doll. Earl would actually play with us in the back yard--casting his fishing line for us to catch, although no one could. One of our neighbors was a chicken hatchery, and we were free to walk in and look at the baby peeps, who were just about eye level for a five year old. The Burkes lived across the street and also owned a filling station and auto repair shop.  So I knew women could have careers because Minnie ran the station and repaired cars. Although I didn't know this until she died and I read her obituary, Minnie's brother was married to my Great Aunt. So we were sort of shirt tail relatives.  When Tommy's dad (they lived next to my great grandparents) went hunting or trapping, I'd go down and inspect the skins nailed to boards in the garage.  Tommy's dad had been a famous baseball player, Nelson Potter, so everyone in town knew him. When we grew up Tom was the valedictorian of our class and I was the salutatorian, so we sort of remained friends until his death a few years ago.  He became a professor of philosophy at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson_Thomas_Potter_Jr.  He may have been the smartest man to ever leave our little town.  Ruth died in 1950 when she was about 49 from heart problems--I was devastated, and remember to this day that phone call. Earl died in 1965 and I remember waving to him as I walked past the campus where he sat every day with the other old men when I was in high school.  In 1949, my great grandfather died, and we came from Forreston to attend the funeral.  I met people I'd never seen before--all members of my grandmother's family.

 

White Doll in center 

Mean girls--today and 68 years ago

I just watched a Fox News story on the damage social media is doing to young teen girls and their body images. I used to be a young teen girl who hung out with other teens, caring about every word and piece of gossip. We didn't have social media like Instagram or TikTok (the focus of this story). We didn't have personal phones (most of us were on a party line). We didn't have organized sports (against the law in those days). If we took a photo it was on film and it was 2 weeks to get it developed. We all went to church and almost no one had divorced parents. But we still found all the ways to be mean girls and make snide remarks about bodies and tease anyone who didn't fit the mold or current fashion. Can I get an Amen or am I the only one who remembers "the good old days?"

  

My tale of two rich men, us and taxes on real estate

My uncle Gramps was the husband of my dad’s sister, Marion, who owned the Tot and Teen shop in Mt. Morris.  Nice guy, but I didn’t spend a lot of time with him. My fondest memory of him was winter 1963 or 1964, when he helped me with my taxes. I think I’d brought all the records home (to my parents) for Dad to help. Gramps came over and showed me how, with our duplex rental property, we would owe no taxes on the income. I found it stunning then, and even now, that by listing all our expenses and claiming something new to my vocabulary, depreciation, we owed nothing. The tax laws are made for the rich by the rich, but occasionally the little guy gets a boost.

President Trump, whom the New York Times is trying to smear without the word illegal appearing anywhere in the story,  created jobs, he provided services, and he took advantage of all the “loopholes.” So did Jeff Bezos, the richest man on the planet, who owes no income taxes at all, and who coincidentally owns the Washington Post, also a Trump hater.

I once asked my mother why my uncle was called Gramps, since at that time he may have been 40 something and had no grandchildren, and she said she didn’t know but that was his nickname at Mt. Morris College where my parents and he met (my aunt would have been in high school so I assume they met later).

I hated being a landlord. We met some really nice tenants and with some we have stayed friends. But it only takes one or two bad ones to make you resolve to never do it again. But that duplex, purchased in 1962, for $14,000, put us on a financial footing that blesses us to this day. We took a mortgage for $10,000 and Dad held the second mortgage. The rent, as I recall was $70/month and that covered the mortgage and  the utilities—so we essentially were living rent free. We sold it on land contract in 1967 when we moved to Columbus, and that payment covered our car loan and the mortgage. When the new owner paid off the loan a few years later, someone at the bank discovered an error in our favor, and as I recall we had a nice settlement.

Owning and living in your own home does nothing for your own wealth, but owning real estate and renting it or using it for some other investment does. My father always said the cost of your home always had to include what the down payment and improvements could have earned doing something else.

Marion and Gramps

Remembering our “golden” past of the 1950s

It’s interesting that even liberals who see everything in the 21^st century as dark, racist and the fault of the GOP, can think of the 50s-60s in Mt Morris, Illinois (or Oregon, or Polo, or Columbus, Ohio) as a time of a golden era. I read a lot of blogs, and that misty, foggy view is common among 70-80 year olds. My husband whose high school was larger in acres and people than Mt. Morris, thinks the same thing. Of course, it’s not true; go through your high school annuals and you’ll see people who were white, but were marginalized because they were fat, or ugly, or low intelligence or unathletic or who never got the help they needed or who dropped out of school after 7^th or 8^th grade at age 16 or 17.

(I think this is 1954, confirmation class Trinity Lutheran for 1957 graduates) 

The U.S. in 2020 is so much less racist, less unfair, with more opportunity and ladders to success for the poor than we enlightened folk of the 50s could have ever imagined. We had devoted, but poorly paid teachers, and today the average hourly wage for a public school teacher is over $67/hour—far more than accountants, architects, librarians, farmers, and muffler repairmen. And statistically, there are far fewer poor and marginalized all over the world. Unfortunately, there’s something about being human – enough is never enough. We’re greedy and ungrateful to God for all he supplies. Slavery is also a bigger trade in the 21^st century than it was in the 18^th yet, U.S. and Europe are expected to take the blame for what happened 300 years ago. Life will never be fair. Some things at the micro-level are better, but the macro tells a more ominous story. And people still use the specter of slavery to grab power as well as to build your smart phone.

The U.S. federal social statistics are difficult to read because they always move the goal, but in 1959, families in poverty in the U.S. were 20.8%, and families headed by women were 49.4% (that was a much smaller numerical figure then). In 2018, the last year for compiled stats, poverty for families was 9.7% and for families head by women 26.8%. https://www.census.gov/data/tables/time-series/demo/income-poverty/historical-poverty-people.html The federal government aid has done a lot to dismantle the economic model of the family, but a lot of economic aid is poured into that mistake, and the female headed households are not the victims they used to be, despite the gap. And as I’ve noted before, I still remember the first time I saw a black man in a TV series (Bill Cosby, I Spy) and the first time I saw a black man as a retail clerk in a major chain (Penney’s, Champaign, IL, early 1960s).

So let’s keep some perspective. And watch for the power grabs of today, much of it happening very quickly in the fog of the pandemic.

The class reunion blog has ended

It was time.  It was supposed to be just our 50th reunion blog for the Mt. Morris High School class of 1957.  Now we’re past 60 years since we graduated!  I really appreciate those who contributed stories and photos—Mike Balluff the class president is a great story teller--but recently it was being referred to as “Norma’s blog.” I figured it was time to close the diary (which I actually did in 2010, but I kept updating it so often, I finally went back to occasional posting as there was news).  Before I closed it, I pulled out the updates from 2010 and made them separate entries, mostly obituaries, making them easier to find. 

Facebook really made blogs obsolete, and Twitter is eating Facebook’s lunch, that said, I think Mt. Morris has at least 4 FB pages plus a webpage. Not bad for a small town of less than 3,000 with no high school or elementary school.  At this blog I write on approximately 15 topics, of which Mt. Morris, education, business, medicine, retirement, church, books, films, fashion, food, family, health, etc. are in there with what’s going on in the world.  There’s really a lot of variety also in the 1957 class blog, some funny posts and some sad.  And all the women were beautiful and the men all had hair!

 

September 22, 2018 class breakfast

Yesterday I cleaned out several boxes of negatives from our collective photo albums and found a bunch from the 1950s.  If I find anything pertinent (and someone who still develops b & w), I’ll back date them and add to the class blog.

A very successful trip to Illinois

We had our fall Illinois Indiana trip this past week, celebrating my birthday there and seeing our cousins and siblings.

On Thursday we went to the lovely home of cousins Dianne and Frank for a tasty breakfast, after which we went hunting for the Nachusa Prairie Grasslands near Oregon and the bison (that adventure will be another post).  On Friday we drove to Dixon to see my cousin (once removed--my grandmother and his father were siblings) Chuck Ballard to catch up since college days at the University of Illinois, where he attended after a stint in the Navy. I think I last saw him in 1983, and we are both interested in genealogy. We had actually met a good friend of his when we were touring Ireland over a decade ago. Friday evening we had dinner with our Illinois siblings and spouses with a long chat afterwards.  On Saturday the members of my graduating class (1957) got together at the Campus Cafe across from the campus in Mt. Morris.  That afternoon we drove to Winnebago to visit with my cousin Judy Buffo, but as it turns out, that was her mailing address but she lives much closer to Pecatonica. so we drove around a lot in that area, and were just about to give up when I found a clerk at a gas station who had a smart phone and wrote down directions for me. We had a nice 2 hour visit.  I think I last saw her in 1996.

Early Sunday morning we started out from Mt. Morris  for Indianapolis arriving about 1:30 and had a good visit with our sister and brother in-law and our niece and nephew and dinner and dessert.

   

 

 

  

Little Golden Books

Yesterday I received a “Little Golden Book,” EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED FROM A LITTLE GOLDEN BOOK. It’s adorable AND Printed in China. Little Golden Books were part of Western Publishing which bought Kable Printing in 1957, a firm in the town where I grew up, Mt. Morris, IL. The town provided a nice living for many and printed, published and supplied magazines and serials for the world, especially in agriculture. It's struggling now. Although eventually, changing technology would have downsized it, Kables was ruined by a union strike in Mt. Morris in 1974. Western was purchased by Mattel in 1979 and possibly another 4 times that I know of before the permanent closing of the plant we continued to call Kables a few years ago. Now the town has a retirement home as the largest employer, no elementary or high school, and a community arts program to bring in visitors. It should be Trump country. Its story is repeated all over mid-America.

http://www.fundinguniverse.com/company-histories/western-publishing-group-inc-history/

https://collectingmythoughts.blogspot.com/2010/12/story-of-kables-and-mt-morris-timeline.html

A humorous "guide to life" for grown-ups! One day, Diane Muldrow, a longtime editor of the iconic Little Golden Books, realized that, despite their whimsical appearance, there was hardly a real-life situation that hadn't been covered in the more than 70-year-old line of children's books—from managing money, to the importance of exercise, to finding contentment in the simplest things. In this age of debt, depression, and diabetes, could we adults use a refresher course in the gentle lessons from these adorable books, she wondered—a "Little Golden guide to life"? Yes, we could! Muldrow's humorous yet practical tips for getting the most out of life ("Don't forget to enjoy your wedding!" "Be a hugger." "Sweatpants are bad for morale."), drawn from more than 60 stories, are paired with delightful images from these best-loved children's books of all time—among them The Poky Little Puppy, Pantaloon, Mister Dog, Nurse Nancy, We Help Mommy, Five Pennies to Spend, and The Little Red Hen. The Golden greats of children's illustration are represented here as well: Richard Scarry, Garth Williams, Eloise Wilkin, J. P. Miller, and Mary Blair, among many others. Sure to bring memories and a smile, this book is a perfect gift for baby boomers, recent grads, lovers of children's literature—or anyone who cherishes the sturdy little books with the shiny cardboard covers and gold foil spines! (Good Reads)

Friday Family Photo--Too many Corbetts

The Mount Morris Index editor, Worthington Thomas, kept track of the town's young men during WWII. From the going away party at his parents' home to his return at Christmas 1945, my father and other soldiers were reported in the town paper. I assume relatives submitted the information. My dad also wrote to Tommy who included his letters in the paper. I found the clippings in the 1990s. I don't know what happened to them.

July 1944
HOWARD CORBETTS TOO NUMEROUS IN CALIFORNIA CAMP

"Many odd situations have been reported by Mount Morris men participating in the present war, but a letter to the Mt. Morris Index from a young Marine located at Camp Pendleton, Oceanside, Calif., brings to light one of the most unusual "Believe it or not" stories of them all.

"Dear Sirs: During the past few weeks I have received a few copies of the Mount Morris Index They are addressed to a Pvt. Howard Corbett, 5th Marine Div., Camp Pendleton, T.C. It just so happens that my name is the same, only I am a Pfc. in the 26th Regt., "D" Co., and am from Chicago.

Anyway, my curiosity has been aroused. I would like to know more about the other Howard. Maybe he is in some way related to me. I don't know. But if it isn't too much trouble I would like to know about him.

I joined the Marine Corps in January, 1942. Of these 30 months I have spent 23 overseas. I was a member of Carlson's Raiders and participated in four major battles at Midway, Bougainville and Guadalcanal.

I returned to the United States last February, and as you know, am now at Camp Pendleton. That in short is my life for the last 2 1/2 years and is about what I would like to know about the other Howard. I have sent the papers back to the post office and hope they are being sent on to the right addressee. I would advise your getting his correct address and have him put his middle initial on his record.

Sincerely yours, Howard N. Corbett

The Mount Morris Howard also was located at Camp Pendleton for a time which naturally accounts for the mix-up in mail. However, his present address is Naval Air Station, Marine Brks., Alameda, Calif., and both Howards will get this week's Index, with the suggestion that they write each other and establish their relationship if any."

Dad and Stan in front of our house in Alameda

And the rest of the story: I used the internet to see what had happened to Howard N. Corbett of Chicago, and if I've found the right one, he died in May 2004. After the war in which he was injured he went to college on the GI Bill and became a pharmacist. Howard Corbett Obituary (2004) - Homewood, IL - Daily Southtown (legacy.com)

It appeared from the obituary, that his son Howard, Jr., retired USMC, died a few months later. 

Howard Corbett Obituary (2004) - Chicago, IL - Daily Southtown (legacy.com)

Designing failure

"If we were to chuck every single educational “innovation” visited upon us by political hucksters in the last eighty years, and simply teach what was then considered the norm for a person with a half-decent background in arts and letters, and call it “classical,” we would at once stanch the bleed from our enrollments and give our young people a standard deviation or two over their schooled counterparts." Anthony Esolen

I wasn't in school 80 years ago, but I was in first grade 70 years ago (first grade and sixth grade in both Forreston and Mt. Morris due to family moves), so what would I bring back?

• Bible reading and prayer to start the day, and as children learned to read, they did it. I think we said the Pledge to the flag. No one was converted if their family already didn't attend church, but it did set the tone. Each child had a New Testament in the desk provided by the Gideons. Today police would be called if they tried that, even though under the first amendment it's still legal.
• Money collected for savings bonds and we each had our own book (this extended well beyond WWII).  The stamps were 10 cents.  Not sure what poor children did. Very early we learned to watch our "savings" grow with pretty stamps. Today it would be considered discriminatory against immigrants or bad form to be patriotic.
• 
• Phonics, reading aloud, diagramming sentences to understand grammar and spelling bees. I really didn't enjoy being in front of the class, but I did learn from this to face my fears.
• Recess and physical education through all grades. We were a hot, sweaty mess.  Probably less hyperactivity in those days.
• School assemblies where we would gather for a lyceum event (speakers,magicians, inspirational, music, drama). The blind pianist was a favorite, I remember.
• School wide musicals. Classroom art instruction although we didn't have art teachers and the music teacher served several rural schools.
•  
• Story time by teacher and resting after recess (for younger children)--I remember this through 4th grade. Loved those stories. My first exposure to The Wizard of Oz.
• In room parties when moms brought cookies and we occasionally saw a movie. Halloween, Valentines and Christmas parties.  Principal read the Luke version of infancy story to the whole school.
• In the 2 elementary schools I attended, there were no cafeterias--I either walked home for lunch or brought a packed lunch which no one inspected for the USDA approval. If we had allergic kids, I didn't know about it.
• School wide vaccination programs--if there were religious exceptions, I wasn't aware of them. Small pox in kindergarten and polio in 7th grade.
• Math instruction even someone like me could understand.
• Geography and history, beginning with the world in the lower grades, then the nation, then the state and county.

There were other things that I hated then, and would hate now.  

• Team or group projects where my grade depended on the slowest and most irresponsible person in the group. I was a good student, and hated this.
• State testing--we didn't do as much then as they do now, but I hated it. Usually lasted a day. I was never a good test taker and it caused a lot of anxiety.
• No special instruction for slow students.  They just dropped out after a few years to work the farm with dad, or were passed along and aged out at 16 in 7th or 8th grade. 
• Grading each others work.  This was demeaning for both good and poor students.  I would sometimes "cheat" for the other guy, even if I wouldn't do it on my own, just so he could pass.
• Weighing in front of class (I think our height and weight was recorded on our report cards). 
• Mean teachers who bullied students. Yes, it happened then and probably happens now. I never experienced this because I was an excellent student and didn't cause trouble.

1957 Mt. Morris documentary now on YouTube

In 2009 I was blogging about class stuff and found out from Nancy F. that there had been a documentary filmed in Mt. Morris in 1957 and that she and her family were in it.  I was in California that summer so had no recollection of it.   So I went looking for it on the internet and found it in an archives of old films, called AV Geeks, contacted the owner, but never heard anything, so we dropped it.  I came across that blog the other day, reread it, and decided I'd try again, and so told Linda Miller of Mt. Morris about it and she put my request for information on the Mt. Morris Facebook page site, “Do you remember this in Mt. Morris.”   I also through Facebook am friends with Nancy's brother, so I told Don Snodgrass about the database of old films.  He did what I did in 2009, but got an answer and the owner provided a link to YouTube. Although I'm not sure how it works, it's possible that unless they have a demand, they don't transfer the film to YouTube. 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GTRdPsZxrc#t=68

Here's how it lays out: There is a town named Spring Valley (most of the scenes are Mt. Morris.) Opening scenes of a quiet town showing Brayton, Wesley, the high school, Trinity Lutheran, either Sunset or Hannah ranch homes, and two scenes of industry, which do not seem to be from MM.  Then Ralph Zickuhr, possibly Harvey Miller, then Richard Butler, Mike Babler (wearing their FFA jackets) and other teens building something on the campus. You'll see Lila Baker, Marilyn and Eddie Miller, and Les Lundgren. The doctor and his father are actors, and scene at the medical clinic looks like Oregon to me. In the community meetings the setting is the Mt. Morris high school, which was only a few years old then.  I recognize Marilyn Muller, Mrs. Marge Long in white dress, Phil Orr, Mr. Snodgrass, Nancy's father, Sybil Dohlen (what a gorgeous smile), and a very young Don Snodgrass in a flat top. I don't know the minister (an actor?), and one farmer in a straw hat in the interview phase sort of looks like Forrest Kinsey, and Kinsey is the name on the questionnaire.

Lew Behrens is hired in the film as the recreation director and shows up around 16:36 and he's in a number of scenes, and I suspect probably his children. I think I spotted Ron Duffy of our class in the scene of the young people who volunteer labor to build the center, which I think is the current senior center in the construction site.  Bill Lundholm is in the car wash scene (to represent raising money by teens). The scene at the end of the large family piling into a Buick station wagon, looks like it was in front of the Behrens home.

I recognized no one in the square dance, singing group or drama group and wondered if those scenes are from another effort, or actors. But if you do, please chime in.  Perhaps others might recognize someone. All the sport scenes of tennis, golf, and baseball show both sexes--such a progressive town. The machine shop instructor didn't look familiar.  The lake scene is from Byron, since Mt. Morris didn't have one. At 21:02 in the film you see people sitting in what looks like a park, I spotted Dave Dillehay.  Interesting that Mt. Morris does have parks named both for Zickuhr and Dillehay.

Needless to say, our classmate Nancy is thrilled to finally see this film, and especially the scenes with her family. Plus others in the community are having a lot of fun identifying the townspeople. You'll all have a good time looking at it.  I looked today and it already had 318  views even though it was only posted yesterday on YouTube.

This is cross posted at MMHS1957.blogspot.com

The Girl Scouts and feminist ideology

 I was in Girl Scouts and 4-H about 2-3 years back in the 1950s. I enjoyed both organizations and learned valuable life skills--patriotism, camping, cooking, sewing, first-aid, good manners. Still remember our faithful leaders, Mrs. Lamm, and Mrs. Bechtold, who had to put up with so much nonsense from screaming pre-teens. But it's a shame what has happened to Girl Scouts with links to Planned Parenthood and various LBGT organizations, like "Free to Pee." Really? Churches are questioning whether than can any longer provide space. GSUSA recommends many leftist, feminist based organization, but no pro-life organizations.

http://www.lifenews.com/2013/12/04/what-every-pro-lifer-needs-to-know-about-the-girl-scouts-link-to-planned-parenthood/

http://www.catholicnewsagency.com/cw/post.php?id=621

 http://www.christianpost.com/news/girl-scouts-convention-has-pro-abortion-ultra-feminist-agenda-say-ex-members-59984/