Eugene Gochenour's Memoirs: Alger Gochenour

Alger Jordan Gochenour

Today I share my father Eugene Gochenour's memoirs of his father Alger Jordan Gochenour, with added information from my genealogy research.

The Gochenour family were Swiss Brethren who came to America for religious freedom. They first arrived in Philadelphia and went west to Lancaster. So many Germans were coming to Pennsylvania there was less land available and it was becoming expensive. Some like my ancestor followed the Susquehanna River south into Virginia. 

Our ancestor Jacob Gochenour was in the second wave of Swiss Brethren in the Shenandoah Valley, and married Elizabeth Rhodes, daughter of one of the first settler families. I wrote about the massacre of the Rev. John Rhodes family here. 

The first Gochenours were German speaking Anabapists, separatists and pacifists who did not fight in the Revolution. They did give horses to the cause, and started the first church and school in the area. 

Many of the Brethern were converted by a popular Baptist preacher. My ancestor married a Baptist and joined that church.

Samuel Gochenour, 1926-1901

Susannah Hammon Gochenour

My second great-grandfather Samuel Gochenour was conscripted into the Confederate Army and worked in manual, non-combat work. His son was David Henry, father of my grandfather Al Gochenour.

 Henry David Gochenour, Mary Ellen Stultz Gochenour and family

Henry David and Mary Ellen Stultz Gochenour,
Clarence and Alice Gochenonur

The Shenandoah River near Woodstock 

The Gochenour family homestead in Woodstock, VA
where Al Gochenour was born

Al Gochenour, Sherdian Park Volunteer Fireman Chief

Here is what Dad wrote about his father:

"Father Alger Jordan Gochenour was born on March 25th, 1904, on a farm at the community of Fairview, Virginia, located in the Shenandoah Valley.

"The first Gochenours came to America in 1735, years before we were a nation. Jacob Gochenour and his family were Mennonites, and came to America to avoid religious persecution. He acquired 400 acres in 1735 in the valley.

"I never met my grandparents, as they had died before I was born. Henry David Gochenour, Dad’s father was born on December 5th, 1861 and died on May 28th, 1924. Dad’s mother’s maiden name was Mary Stultz. She was born on June 4th, 1864, and died on April 23rd, 1927. Her nickname was Mollie.

"Dad’s father had operated a tanyard, which had been operated by his father. Most of my father’s decedents of his lineage are buried at the Mount Zion Lutheran Church cemetery, located near the farm.

"Father never told me why he ran away from his home as a youth, but I was told that he only had an eighth grade education. He and a friend ran away together and their travels took them to New York City. They earned money by cleaning and polishing office furniture far business people.

"Dad was a good salesman, and he and his friend had unique skills. Dad, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase, would go into an office building and ask the receptionist if he could talk to the person responsible for cleaning the office furniture. Since no one had ever done this service for them before, he would often be taken to talk to the owner or manager of the office. Dad knew that their office was the showplace where business people met with their clients, and that their office furniture and desks were very expensive. Many of their chairs were upholstered with leather, and the desks were made from cherry wood.

"After he introduced himself, he gave them a demonstration on one of the office chairs. To show that the cleaner would not harm the finish, he drank some of it. This impressed the customer, but it was harmless, since it was only water with baking soda. I don’t know where Dad learned about the cleaner, but it did a great job. After he cleaned the chair, he took a clean white cloth and wiped it dry, and showed all the dirt he had removed. Then he applied the polish, and when he buffed it, it looked like new. He explained that he was aware how important the clothes business people wore were, and that the polish he used would not soil them. Dad told them he would work in the evening after they had left for the day, and would not expect to be paid until the job was finished.

"Dad and his friend had many jobs at New York City, but eventually he went to Tonawanda, leaving them behind. I don’t know why father left New York City, or how he came to live at Tonawanda, but once there he became an insurance salesman. In those days insurance salesman went from door to door to collect the money for the policies, and that is how I suspect he met Mother. "

In my genealogy research, I learned that my grandfather Al Gochenour was 15 years old and living at home in 1920; his father died in 1924; in 1926 he appears in a Buffalo city directory working as a salesman for F. Becker Roofing. I do not have an F. Becker in my family tree so I do not know if he is a relation to my grandmother.  

In 1927 at age 23 when Al married Emma Gochenour he was an insurance collector. He was on top of the world with a family, new house, new car, and I was told even had a maid.

Dad said that when his father's customers could not pay their insurance premiums he would cover the cost for them. As the Depression wore on his clients were unable to keep up with the premiums. Al could not pay the taxes on his house, and was arrears for several years when he lost it to the bank and moved to an apartment in the Military Road house. 

I have shared about Al's building a garage, volunteer fireman experience, and leader as a boy scout in previous posts.

Eugene Gochenour's Memoirs: Grease and Cars

Here I am as a baby with Dad and my cousin Linda Guenther. We are sitting on the yard
of John Kuhn across Rosemont with our house and gas station behind us. 1952

I have already shared Dad's story about his father Alger Gochenour building and running a gas station and garage. This selection talks about the cars Dad bought as a young man and the men who worked at the station.

"This photo shows the walls of the garage are up, and parked in front of the garage is the first car I owned, a 1930 Chevrolet. The house behind the car belonged to the Keller family. Mr. Keller was killed in the accident at this loation that my father had seen years before."

"Dad installing the garage windows. My 1930 Chevy is parked on the left side."

"Dad with his 1938 Buick."

"Dad at work preparing the driveway. Dad signed a contact with Frontier Oil Company to sell their product. Frontier was a small, local company. It had a refinery on River Road by the Niagara River. They agreed to install the gas tanks, pumps, lights, signs, paint the station, install a hoist and air compressor. Soon after we opened they blacktopped the driveway."

"The pumps are in." [In the background is John Kuhn's barn.]

"The station is painted."[In the background is the family home.] 

Emma Becker in front of the station. 

"The sign is up." [You can see Military Road in the foreground. This was before Rosemont Ave. was built.]

 The completed gas station at 1851 Military Road, Rosemont Service.

 "A few years after we opened the station we bought a fairly new 1950 Ford pickup truck. I spray painted it blue and white, the company colors. Then we had the station name painted on the doors. We called the station Rosemont Service because that was the name of the street that would one day be built next to the station."

Uncle Levant Becker painting the fence along the gas station property.
Military Road in the background.

"There were people who helped Dad build the station. There was my uncle Lee, and a close friend of Dad's Carl Yotter, Uncle Rueben Becker, and myself. But Dad did most of the work. Mother always did her share also. Here Lee is painting the fence. Years later I replaced the fence and I said, "the first person that damages this fence will be killed!" Well, soon after I was working on a car that had no brakes and had to park it so I could work on another car. When I drove out I forget it had no brakes and drove right through the fence. So much fo thereats and predictions!"

Gene and friends working on a car at the service station.

Gene and Tom Richards working in the service station.

My parents Joyce Ramer and Gene Gochernour in 1949, just about the time of their marriage in front of Dad's car

"When I became seventeen I took a driver’s test and got my Junior Driver’s license. A buddy of mine, Archie Henderson, had an old 1930 Chevy two-door sedan, and he sold it to me for fifty dollars. Someone had torn all the upholstery off from the front seat back, and it was not much of a car, but it was my first set of wheels. He gave me a huge oil can that had a long spout, and looked like something that would be used on a railroad locomotive. He said whenever the engine got noisy, to take the engine cover off and lubricate the parts, using the oil can. So every once in a while when I was driving down the road, I would hear the noisy engine, pull over, lift the hood, take off the engine cover, and lubricate the engine parts, using the oil can. People passing by must have wondered what that jerk was doing! 

"[My girlfriend] Joyce probably thought the same thing, but she never did comment. There were no floor mats in the car, and the wooden floor boards had cracks in them, so whenever it rained, and there were puddles on the road, Joyce would have to lift her legs so her feet would not get wet. Riding with me was probably quite an experience for her! 

Gene Gochenour and Joyce Ramer, high school sweethearts

"A neighbor, Phil Ensminger, had an old 1930 Dodge coupe setting in his garage and he said he would sell it to me. The car was in good shape, since it had always been parked in a garage. So I sold the Chevy to some lucky person and paid twenty five dollars for the Dodge. It looked good after I cleaned it up and gave it a “powder puff” paint job. Paint was applied to the car using a puff like cloth dabbed into the paint, then wiped onto the car. It did have a nice smooth appearance. I chose to paint the car blue with yellow trim and wheels. Not long after I finished the car, a customer offered me eighty dollars, because he liked it. 

"I really liked the car. It had hydraulic brakes, comfortable seats, and it stayed dry during rainstorms. Quite a change from my first car. The only problem I had was once when I was going up the Grand Island Bridge and the car just made it. It did not like to go up hills, I think it had a gas problem. But I decided to sell it, because a buddy of mine talked me into buying another car. 

"Dick Watkins lived at the Sheridan Housing Project and I think I met him through Joyce, my girlfriend. We became close friends and he hung around the station a lot. He had a 1935 Ford coupe, and I spray painted it two tone red and cream. Before that he had a 1939 Lincoln Continental, and on that car we removed the twelve cylinder engine and installed a V-8 engine in it. 

Dick Watkins

Dick Watkins and Gene Gochenour

"Johny Parker was a customer at the station, and his family owned a trailer park south of us on Military Road. He had a 1936 Ford club coupe convertible and it was a beauty. He came into the station one day and said he was selling it and asking two hundred dollars. I wasn’t sure I wanted to part with that much money, but Dick finally talked me into buying it. So I sold my '30 Dodge and bought it. As soon as I got it I spray painted it maroon and put a new convertible top on. It had both musical and air horns. The air horns sounded like a semi-truck and I could play a tune with the musical horns. It had maroon leather upholstery and seats, A radio, a gasoline heater, and white wall tires, so it was a beauty."

*****

"The station was a hangout for many young guys from the project and surrounding areas. Almost every week we would have a party, sometimes at one of their parent’s houses, or at a bar on Grand Island. We had parties when one of them was getting married, going into the service, moving out of the area, or any other reason.

"One evening my brother-in-law Ken Ennis and I took my boat across the Niagara River to a bar on Grand Island, docked it, went in, and joined all the guys at the party. Dave Wilson and a couple of the guys then took the boat back out on the river for a ride. When they came back, Dave fell into the river as he got out of the boat to get onto the dock. Well, he came in to the bar soaking wet and dripping, with a big smile on his face, but then the bartender told him to get the heck out of here! So he left, but soon returned, wrapped in a blanket. Everybody laughed when he walked back in looking like an Indian, but he was not going to miss the party! Some of our parties were pretty rowdy, and some ended with beer fights, but I never did see a serious fight between any of the guys.

Ken Ennis who married Alice Gochenour worked at the station

Dad's Uncle Levant Becker working at the station

"This is a list the guys of most of that hung around the station:

Tom Richards
George Horan
Ken Ennis
Ron Anderson
Vic Lemieux
Skip [Gifford] Marvin
Bill Patterson
Mel Coburn
Adam Ott
Ed Horan
Tom Braun
John Molnar
Dan Miller
Dick Hoadly
Don Clarke Don
Linquest George
McDougal
Harold Brown
Gus Morrison
Dick Kusmierski
Smitty Aldrich
Arnie Krebbs
Dave Wilson
Bill Linforth
Louie Grace
John Morrison
Bob Kusmierski
Rod Mahoney
Leo Rodrequiz
Butch Wilson
Frank Cucinelli
Ronnie Oates
Louie Randall
Mort Kearney

Emma Gochenour and Tom Richards

"Many of the guys came to the station with their parents when they were young. When they were old enough to get a car of their own and drive they were accepted into the group. Many of them were given credit at the station, and I found out later that it was a big deal to them, that someone trusted them.

"Once a year the whole gang would gather at the station, gas up, get in line, and take off for a park about twenty miles away for a picnic. Many had worked at the station at one time or other. There were probably about twenty cars, and a truck or two to hold the beer, pop, chairs, etc. As time went by the picnic included wives of the gang and children.

"Ken Ennis was my sister Alice’s husband. After they got married they moved into the downstairs apartment of our house behind the station. Ken worked at the station with me for a few years. We worked well together, and it was a blessing to me that I could take my family on an occasional vacation and not worry about it, knowing Ken was there.

"Ken and I went together buying old cars and restoring them. One of them was a 1929 Ford two door sedan. Ken’s brother John had worked as a surveyor and he spotted the old car sitting in a field. We contacted the owner and bought it. We fixed it up, painted it maroon, got an antique license, and drove it around. After a while we sold it and bought a 1930 Ford pickup. We fixed it and painted it blue metallic. It had come without rear fenders, and we never did find any to put on it.

"When we first opened the station we sold gas for 18-cents a gallon for regular, and 21-cents a gallon for high test. We washed cars, sold and repaired tires, sold batteries, polishes and accessories. As time went by we could not compete with the specialty stores so we had to do other things like towing, snow plowing, and heavy repair work.

"I weighed about 129 lbs in those days and wrestled with truck tires that weighed more than I did. I had a five-foot bar that I used when I removed a tire from a semitruck. I would put the lug wrench on the lug, insert a five foot crowbar in the wrench and jump on it to loosen them up. When I got the tire off, I used a sledge hammer and some pry bars to take it apart. Since we bad no power tools, it was all bull work.

I remember when the following story happened! Sometimes I would go with Dad when he plowed the parking lots on a winter night. It was cold in the truck!

"In the winter I only wore a T-shirt and a Navy turtle neck sweater because if I sweat, then went outside in the wind to pump gas, I would freeze, so I was always cold. One night after I had worked about twelve hours during a snow storm, I went into our apartment. All I could think of was to hop into a hot tub to warm up. I stripped and jumped in when the tub was filled. Then I noticed that some of my toes were black. This scared me because I knew they must be frozen, so I jumped right back out so I could slowly thaw them. I felt colder than ever then! I had bought new boots, and that day decided to wear them. They were too tight, that is why my toes froze. I learned a lesson that it is better to have boots too loose than too tight! Since the boots were new, I gave them to a friend, Bob Cole, that worked at the station. Luckily, I did not loose any toes.

"Work during the winter was hard. Sometimes when it stormed, it would drop up to 18 inches of snow overnight. The wind always seemed to blow, and when it stormed there could be snow drifts six to eight feet high. Then I would have to get up early in the morning to plow out the station, the house driveway, and snow blow a couple hundred feet of sidewalk, before I could open the station.

"During bad storms, many customers’ cars would not start, and I would take mother with me in the tow truck. She would steer the broken car and I would tow her back to the station to repair it. Mother also did bookkeeping, drove to pick up parts, went to the bank, and took home customers while we worked on their cars.

"During the winter storms, the cars we worked on were loaded with snow on top, and underneath. Sometimes when we had them on the hoist, large chunks of frozen snow would drop on us. Also icy water dripped on us as we worked from below. Even though the engines were like blocks of ice, we had to work with bare hands, because gloves were too bulky. Since I could not afford to hire someone to repair things around the station when they broke I did the work myself. I repaired the roof when it leaked, replaced broken windows, built shelves, sent out monthly bills, made out tax forms, and any other thing that had to be done.

"Sister Alice was a big help by entering the daily sales into the ledger. Occasionally I would have to hire Charlie Tingly for a plugged sewer, or a plumbing problem. The Oil Company repaired the gas pumps, hoist, compressor, lights, signs, and other equipment. Many hours were spent plowing snow from nearby business parking lots in the winter.

We always had Lava soap and Dad worked to get his hands clean, but the oil was always in the lines of his hands. I used to kiss Dad's owies better.

"Because my hands were wet so much of the time, they were calloused and cracked, and black with dirt and grease. When I got married I used steel wool to try to clean them. They looked bad! It was dirty work, and at the end of the day I would remove my shoes before I went into the house, and change before I sat down."

My parents, Gene and Joyce Gochenour, with my brother 'on the way'
1959. Rosemont Ave in the background. The car belonged to family friends seen below.

Skip and Katie Marvin with their jazzy car

A love of cars runs in the family. Alger has several photos of himself with his car. Dad became a mechanic and later was an experiemental mechanic at Chrysler in Highland Park, MI. And my brother Tom is an engineer with Ford.

Alger Gochenour with his car. About 1930.

A young Alger Gochenour with his car. 1930s.

Eugene Gochenor's Memoirs: Pets, Fishing, and Hunting

This excerpt from my father's memoirs concerns his dog Trixie, raising rabbits for profit, and hunting with his father. He talks about visiting Putt's farm in the Allegheny mountains. I remember watching Mrs. Putt candle eggs in a dark room, and walking up the hill in autumn.

Dad

"My pet dog and best buddy was named Trixie. Wherever I went, he went, and he was a hunting dog too. He was part Terrier, and I don’t know what else. When father and I would take him hunting, he would get on the trail of a rabbit or pheasant and would run full speed ‘till he flushed it, or lost it. When he was on the trail of a pheasant we would have to run to keep up with him. Carrying our guns and running through the fields on a warm Autumn day to be near when the bird flushed was hard work. If someone saw us running through the fields and did not see the dog, they probably would have wondered what was going on. That may not have been the best way to hunt, but we had many a dinner, thanks to Trixie!

Gene and Al Gochenour and poor Trixie

"Trixie being mainly a Terrier was an excellent ratter. It was my job to saw up the piles of wood we used to feed our kitchen stove. There was a table saw back by the garage that I used to cut up the boards. One day I was getting down to the bottom of the pile and when I lifted the last board, there were three rats hiding beneath it. Trixie knew they were there, and when I lifted the board, he grabbed each one, snapped it’s neck, and killed them in a flash! He was like greased lightning! Rats were always a problem because there were so many places they could live in the country. There were barns, fields, wood piles, and the town dump was only a mile away.

'We had some old garages behind the house and one day I put some rat poison in one of them. We always kept the doors closed, but one day I went in to get a tool, and did not close the door. When I went to take the tool back, I saw Trixie eating the poison. I called our Vet and asked him what I should do. He told me to make a glass of salt water and make the dog drink it until he vomited.

This photo of Dad always made me sad.

"Well I tried that, but the dog did not want to cooperate. He got more water on him than in him. I got the dog so mad I thought he would bite me, so I decided to take him to the Vet’s. Once there, he gave Trixie a shot of vitamin K. He said the poison stopped the dog’s digestive system from absorbing vitamin K and the shot would take of him. Taking Trixie to the Vet was sure better than getting bit by my buddy. Trixie was never chained or fenced, and one day he ran out onto Military Road and was killed by a car. My good buddy was gone!

"During the early spring, Dad, Lee [his uncle Levant Becker], and I would occasionally drive to Wilson, a town on the shore of Lake Ontario, to spear suckers, a fish that spawns in the creeks at that time of year. We drove there in the evening and when we arrived there it would be dark, and all the creeks would be outlined with the lights from the lanterns of the many people already there. We then would join them with our boots, lanterns, and spears.

"Our spears were like a pitchfork with five tines, each with a barb. We then would walk up the creek carrying our lanterns to light the way, until we found a shallow place where we would wait for the fish to swim through. Usually about ten o’clock the fish would start the run, and we would attempt to spear them as they swam past. When we did manage to spear one, we would toss it onto the bank.

"All three of us had found different places on the creek to spear from, and sometimes we would jab our spears into a deep hole, since that is where they hid during the daytime. When we thought we had caught enough fish we gathered them into a burlap bag, and headed home.

"Dad allowed me to drive one time, but I got tired on the way home and ran the car onto the shoulder after I almost fell asleep and he had to take over. The fish we caught were smoked, pickled, or canned.

"Dad took me, and many times also Lee, hunting pheasant, squirrel, and groundhog during the summer and fall. In those days we never had any problem finding a place to hunt. Farmers were glad to allow us to hunt their land to get rid of the varmints. We hunted pheasants at the fruit belt near Lake Ontario, squirrels at Jedo, a small village located about twenty miles past Lockport, and hunted groundhog at the farms near Akron.

The hill at Putt's Farm 1980s

"Dad also had friends who owned a farm about eighty miles away where we hunted deer. Floyd Putt was the farmer’s name. The farm was located in the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains; only part of the over 180 acres was usable, the rest was dense woods. Floyd and his wife had three children, Floyd Junior, Loretta, and Bob. Other children of relatives that had died also occasionally stayed with them.

Putt's chicken coupe in the 1980s. Dad's Horizon.

"Life on the farm was hard and every one had a job to do. Mrs. Putt gathered the eggs from the hundreds of chickens, washed, candled, and graded them. She cooked, washed, and ran the house. Loretta helped her mother. Mr. Putt and the boys ploughed, harvested the crops, milked the cows, and the small children brought in firewood for the cooking stove, and fed the cats and dogs.

"Early in the fall we would go there to post his property with “No hunting” signs. When we posted, we would walk his line fence and remove fallen trees from it and repair it where it had been damaged. Whenever we went there we would stay in his garage which was beneath his chicken house. Above were hundreds of chickens and we could always hear them scratching and clucking.

Gene and Levant Becker at Putt's Farm in the Allegheny Mountains

"There was a wood stove in the garage that he always kept burning, so it was always warm when we went there. Sometimes when we would arrive late at night and everyone was asleep, we would go into the garage and also go to sleep. Mr. Putt kept horse blankets in the garage and we would spread them on the workbench, the floor, and in the bed of his pickup truck. It was a surprise to him when he woke up early in the morning and found us there. They all got a big laugh when he would drive the truck I was sleeping in the bed of, out into the driveway, and make me run back into the garage through the snow.

"Pheasant existed by the tens of thousands during the ‘30s and ‘40s in western New York. We had a garden in back of our house, and it was always visited by pheasants.

"Mr. Thiel lived in an upstairs apartment with his family in the Military Road house. [Ed. note: the old farm house was divided into three apartments]. One day he asked father to borrow his .22 rifle, so father lent it to him. Mr. Thiel would sit at his upstairs window with the gun and shoot an occasional pheasant when one came into the garden. There was no hunting allowed in the area, but we were in the country, and no one paid much attention. When he shot one, he would walk to the garden, pick it up, put it under his coat, and return to the house. One pheasant for dinner! Many people did this in our area, so it was quite common.

"One day Dale Thiel, his brother Maynard, and I were at their apartment, and when we walked to the back bedroom, there sat the gun. Maynard picked up the gun, and pulled the trigger. Luckily it was aimed at the wall, because when it went off, the bullet went right under the window. No one was home, so we were the only ones who knew what had happened.

"For some strange reason, occasionally pheasant roosters would gather in open areas by the hundreds. One day I went over to the golf course early in the morning, and a very large area of the course was covered with strutting birds. There were no hens. I have no idea why they gathered like that, but it was an awesome sight to see. That was a sight I only saw twice during my life.

"The area with the most pheasants was the fruit belt by Lake Ontario. The birds were everywhere. Father and I went hunting during the fall of 1945, a few months after the Second World War ended. I could not hunt, because I was only 15 years old, but father allowed me to tag along. Many soldiers had returned home, and on that day, the roads surrounding the fields were lined with cars filled with hunters. Hunting was allowed after 8:00 A. M., then hunters entered the fields, all at once. The air was filled with flying pheasants, and you did not need a dog to flush them. Only the roosters were legal to shoot, but it was easy to shoot them as they flew over. That morning it sounded like a battlefield! The bird limit was six roosters per hunter, and no one had trouble getting their limit. Even though the hunters only used shotguns, it was a wonder no one got shot that day!

"I once went deer hunting with my uncle Levant Becker and my brother-in-law Clyde Guenther at Blue Mountain in the Adirondack Mountains of New York. One day we were hunting about five miles back in the mountains and I fell into a stream that I was attempting to cross. There was a sheet of clear ice on the rock I stepped on and I slipped and fell. It was quite a shock when I fell into the ice cold water, but I kept my gun from being damaged. Since it was too far to walk back to our camp, we started a fire so I could dry my clothes. Luckily I had two pair of pants on, so I first dried one pair, then the other, while everyone else hunted. Not a fun way to spend the day.

"That evening Clyde told us of a hunter that got lost the year before. The hunter’s name was Jim, and he got lost late in the day. Luckily they found him before nightfall, because in some directions, it is fifty miles to the nearest road.

"Well, the next day we went far back in the mountains, and we separated to hunt. I sat down to watch for deer, and soon I heard a noise, and got up to investigate. I heard a deer run off, and followed the noise for a while, then found I was lost. I did not have the slightest idea where I was, or how to get back to camp. So I panicked and hollered, and when I got no answer, I started running through the woods. Soon I decided I had better stop, and think about this. I remembered the story about the lost hunter, and I was scared. After sitting a while, I decided the best way back to camp was to find a stream, and follow it back to Blue Lake where our camp was. I and found a stream, and fought my way over boulders, and through dense brush, and eventually came to a road that led to our camp. I did not tell the others what had happened to me. I did not get a deer that year, but I had an exciting time.

"During the war many things were rationed, so we had a Victory Garden. There were many pheasants around, and sometimes Dad would shoot one for dinner.

Gene, his dog, and a Rabbit

"I raised rabbits. At one time I had about one hundred and fifty of them. They were New Zealand Whites and they looked like albinos because they had red eyes.

"We had rabbit for many a Sunday dinner. Dad also sold some of the meat to his coworkers. After the rabbits were butchered, the skins were put on to a board to dry. After they dried, and we had accumulated quite a few, they were removed from the boards, bundled, and shipped to a place in Pennsylvania. They paid me twenty five cents each for them.

Gene with rabbit cages 

The garages. Rabbit coupe was a far end on right.

Mary Gochenour with rabbit

"The rabbit coupe was next to the garage in the back yard, and in it were many cages that lined the walls. They were fed hay, rabbit pellets, and water. The hay came from John Kuhn’s barn and the pellets from a feed store.

"I was never there when Dad mated the rabbits, but thirty days later we would have bunnies. Dad planned the litters so that it would happen during the spring because the coupe was too small to cage them all. He built large screened cages with no bottoms so we could put groups of small ones together, and move them around the front yard. This got a lot of attention from passing cars, and helped us sell some of them.

Alice and Gene Gochenour at the Rabbit Coupe

"West of our house and beyond the railroad tracks was a huge empty field. John and I had once cut hay there. It was about a half mile square in size. It lay between Ensminger Road and Sheridan Drive, and between the railroad tracks and the golf course.

"At the beginning of the Second World War, the government built houses for about twelve hundred families there to provide workers for the factories involved in the war industry. Occasionally, while they were being built, Dad and I would hook up John’s hay-wagon to the tractor and go there to load up with scrap wood to burn in our kitchen stove. Huge piles of wood lay there, and if no one took it the workers would just burn it. I never saw any watchmen at the project as it was being built, and when the workers ended their workday, they left their tools where they stopped. The houses were in different stages of completion and were open, and in the evening we kids would run through them and play hide-and-seek.

"On Kenmore Avenue near Sheridan Drive was a huge railroad siding. Boxcars were parked there when the wood, lining their inside walls, had to be replaced. The wood lay in piles and Father and I would fill his box trailer and haul it home. Once home, it became my job to saw it into small pieces and stack it in the cellar. We had a table saw in the yard that I used to saw it.

"A friend of mine, John Molnar, lived with his family at a farm that was next to the railroad siding. His father had a contract with the railroad company to empty the leftover grain from the boxcars when they were stripped. Originally they used most of the grain for their animals, but later when John ran the farm and no longer had animals, he would sell it to other farmers. John had a machine that could separate the various grains found in the cars.

"Many people had vegetable and flower gardens and I saw in a magazine that I could earn the prize of a B-B gun by selling packets of seeds. So early in the winter one year, I sent in and soon received the seeds. I then visited our neighbors, and before long, I sold them all. I sent in the money, then one winter day when I came home from school, mother gave me a box that the mailman had dropped off. I was very excited, and when I opened the box, I saw my bright new B-B gun.

"I became a very good shot, I could hit a fly from about twenty feet away. When I got older, I bought other guns, but earning that B-B gun was a big event in my life. The photo [below] is of Father and I as we are about to go target shooting. The gun I am holding is Dad’s .22 rifle."

Al and Gene Gochenour

Eugene Gochenour's Memoirs Part 4

Today I continue to share my father's memories of growing up in Tonawanda, NY in the 1930s and 1940s. Here Dad writes about making a tractor, hay farming, tragic deaths, camping along the Niagara River, about the local airport and even the town dump! I remember going to 'the dock' at Grand Island as a girl and wading in the Niagara River. I was told not to go far out as the current could carry one over the Falls!

Eugene Gochenour

"Father decided to get a real tractor and found one in the country and somehow hauled it home. It was a Fordson tractor with a four-cylinder engine and was built sometime around the late '20s, or early '30s. Once home, he found it needed some spark coils, so we had to drive to Holland, New York, to a tractor parts store to buy them. Holland was about thirty miles away. When we got back, he installed the coils, made sure it had gas and oil, and cranked it up. After he got it running well he painted it red, and it looked and ran great!

John Kuhn on a tractor built by Al Gochenour from a 1928 Buick.

1937 Eugene Gochenour and with sister Mary on tractor at Kuhn's farm.

The house in the right background was on Waverly St and belonged to Phil and Edna Kuhn.

Gene Gochenour age 14

"During the summer, I would drive the tractor and John Kuhn would ride behind operating the sickle machine, the hay rake, or pitch hay onto the hay wagon. The tractor had huge rear wheels and small steel wheels in the front. I was probably thirteen years old when I started to drive it.

"The fields we mowed were Timothy grass, alfalfa, and clover. The first cutting was usually during the middle of June. When it was time, I would drive the tractor, and John would control the sickle bar, which was like a large lawnmower.

"After a few days, when the hay was dry, I would tow John as he operated the hay rake. We raked the hay into long lines so that when we brought the hay wagon out, we could drive along the line and pitch the hay onto it. Then we hauled it to the barn where it would be stored in the hayloft. Salt was added at that time. The salt helped keep the hay dry by absorbing moisture from the hay, and the salt was a good addition to the cattle’s diet when they ate it.

"When John no longer had any animals, he baled the hay and sold it to the riding stables that were near by. Each bale weighed around 100 pounds. John sold them for about a dollar each.

John Kuhn bringing in the hay, 1930s

"There were always many cats around the farm, and some of them were half wild. They would go into the fields to catch mice. The mowing machine had a long sickle bar that cut the hay and sometimes a cat would be in the field and lose a leg to the machine. There were a few three-legged cats on the farm. Occasionally a pheasant would also get caught and lose its life. Dogs, rabbits, and other animals seemed to be smart enough to move away.

"John also had a cider press and father borrowed it one fall to make some apple cider. Dad had made a box trailer and one fall day we went to the orchards by Lake Ontario and brought back a load of apples. The press was wooden with a hand crank. After the apples were washed they were dumped into the top of the press. Turning the handle chopped the apples up. Then the apples were crushed by a press that was on the machine. The press had a large wooden dowel attached to a screw, and as you turned it, the juice flowed out of the bottom into a trough. The trough drained the juice to where you could fill either jugs or barrels. When the juice first flows it tastes like apple juice, but before long, it tastes like cider. Some of the cider father gave away, some he sold, and some he made into Applejack, a high alcohol drink.

"We were very good friends with the Kuhns and one evening we invited them to a corn roast. When John ate the corn he remarked how good it was. We said it should be, because it had come from his field! We all got a big laugh from that!

"The end of the airport landing field was two blocks west of our house, and about a half mile past that was the Sheridan Park Golf Course. The airport hangers were about a half mile north, and east of them was the town dump.

"Almost every evening during the summer, a man named Peewee would parachute from a plane. One evening he jumped from the plane, and the chute did not open. He landed in the dump and was killed. The oldest Morrow boy was called Buster, and he had always helped Peewee pack his chute, and he felt bad when Peewee was killed.

"There was always something going on at the airport. There were midair shows, and they gave flying lessons, and plane rides to customers. Once during the Second World War, a P-38 warplane made a forced landing and had to be towed up Military Road past our house because the field was too short for it to take off. Another time a Grumman Wildcat fighter plane crash-landed. I went over to see it and was surprised how big it was. It had belly flopped and the propeller blades were all bent back. That plane also had to be towed past our house. During the war I knew every war plane there was.

"Whenever there was something going on at the airport it drew huge crowds. Then a neighbor friend, Ridgely Ware, and I would put a sign on the lot behind his house and charge 25 cents to let people park their cars there. I don’t know who owned the lot, but people were glad to park.

"Levant (Lee) Becker was my mother’s brother and my uncle. He was about two years older than I and we hung around together a lot. He and I had many adventures together. He lived with my grandmother and grandfather on Morgan Street in the City of Tonawanda, about four miles away. Sometimes I would walk through the fields to his house.

Lee Becker at the family camp on the Niagara River

"They had a rowboat they left on the shore of the Niagara River about four blocks from their house. Sometimes Lee and I would row out onto the river and hook onto a barge that was that was being towed up the river. We would tie the rowboat to the last barge, then run up to the front of it and jump into the river, let the barge steam by, then grab the rowboat as it passed by. The only person on the tug was the captain, and he was so many barges away that he could not holler at us. After we left the barge, we drifted back down the river and rowed over to Grand Island. The river at that point is about a half mile across, and on the Grand Island side was a spot called Elephant Rock. It had that name because of a huge boulder that sat out in deep water, about a foot under the surface. It was in deep water, but we could swim to it, and stand on it. We also called the spot “bare ass beach” for obvious reasons. The bank of the river was about twenty feet high there, and a road went along at the top of the bank. I am sure people saw us at our nude beach.

"Sometimes when we were at Lee’s house we would walk to the Erie Canal where it went through the City of Tonawanda. There was a swing bridge that went over the canal that we dove and swam from. The water was not exactly clean but that did not bother us. The Robert Gair Paper Mill was next to the bridge and we found many comic books in the bales of paper. The top of the cover page was cut off because they had been returned from stores when they were not sold. We eventually had a huge pile of comic books.

"Lee spent a lot of time at our house and one night when he was there he and I crawled out the front upstairs window onto the roof. From there we could watch the cars drive by on Military Road. Dad worked at the Buffalo Bolt Company and he brought us home some of the scrap slugs that we used with our slingshots. Well, we had our slingshots, and we decided to shoot at the cars as they passed by. We had done this before, and never hit one, but on this night when we shot, we both hit a car. The car stopped, and a man got out, walked around the car, and when he could not see what had happened, got back in, and drove away. We were so scared we never did that again!

Al Gochenour in front of  the 'chicken coop'

"There was an old chicken coop in our backyard and Lee and I would sometimes climb onto the roof and sunbathe. My father suspected we were climbing on it and told us he would kick us in the butt if he ever caught us on it. We did not listen very good and one day he did catch us on it, and he did kick us both in the butt! We never did climb that roof again!

"Lee and I fished together a lot. Sometimes we would go at night and fish for suckers or bullheads at Spicy Creek on Grand Island, or at Burnt Ship Creek Bay which was over by the North Grand Island Bridge. We fished for Northern Pike both there and at Jackie Senn’s boat livery on the East Niagara River.

"Lee got a car before I got my wheels and occasionally we would drive to a rink in North Tonawanda to roller skate.

"We spent one winter each building our own sailboat. The boat was called a sailfish and we built it from a plan we found in a magazine. It was a one-person boat and you wore a bathing suit when you sailed it 'cause you sure got wet sailing. Sailing on the river was a challenge because of the strong current.

"Nineteen Forty-Six was a great year for me. I had a motorcycle for wheels, a girlfriend, and when summer came my parents allowed me to stay at the family campground on Grand Island. The camp was a beach on the Niagara River that was leased by the year. All our relatives paid toward the lease. Lee and I stayed there all summer.

The dock at the family campground on Grand Island along the Niagara River.

"My future brother-in-law Clyde Guenther worked at the International Paper Mill but stayed when he was not working. At the camp was my father’s large Army tent, a twelve-foot trailer that he and I had built, a raft, dock, rowboat, and a sixteen-foot sailboat. We had a friend whose father owned a brewery across the river. We let him have parties at our camp as long as he supplied the beer. He also had an eighteen-foot sailboat and occasionally we would sail the river with him. The boat could hold seven or eight people, and sailing on a warm summer was beautiful. 

Clyde Guenther. Getting ready to target shoot at the camp.

"At night we would have a campfire on the shore. Crayfish (crabs) would come near the shore at night and we would catch them using a flashlight. We would throw the largest ones on the fire, and cook them in their shells. They would turn orange in color, and when they were cooked and cool, we would peel the claws and tail and feast on them. They were like lobster. 

Camping along the Niagara River

'Moose', Lee Becker, Abbey Becker, Clyde Guenther, and Gene Gochernour at the camp

"On weekends many of the relatives would come to the camp. It was like a family reunion.

Emma Gochenour along the Niagara River in 1956

Lee Becker at 'the dock' on the Niagara River in 1956

Alice Gochenour at 'the dock' on the Niagara River

"Crayfish would come near the shore at night and we would catch them using a flashlight. We would throw the largest ones on the fire and cook them in their shells. They would turn orange in color, and when they were cooked and cool we would peel the claws and tail and feast on them. They were like lobster.

"Crayfish were the best bait for catching bass. The bait shops charged $1.25 for a dozen so Lee and I would catch our own. We knew a certain weed that the soft-shelled crabs liked to hide in. Crabs shed their shells as they grow, so they hide till their new shells harden. They are the best bait for bass.

We would row to the certain weed bed, and with a net haul the mass of weeds onto the deck of the boat, and pick out the crabs. We saved them in a minnow bucket till we used them.

"Grand Island split the Niagara River into the west and east rivers. Our first camp was across from the City of Tonawanda on the east river. It was just upriver from Elephant Rock, a huge boulder in the river that we could swim to, and was knee deep under the surface. To get drinking water we had to row across the river to a park. The river had a strong current and it was probably a half mile across so it took a while to row over there and back. But we had always rowed the river and were used to it. We had a nickname for the camp. We called it Gismo Beach. Lee had been in the army and had served in Korea, and he came up with the name. Back then everything was a Gismo.

"There was a lady who walked her dog by our camp every day early in the morning. One day she knocked on our trailer door while we were sleeping, and excitedly told us about someone lying in the bushes by Elephant Rock. We were all only half awake and went back to sleep and forgot about it. Late in the day we saw a Sheriff car by Elephant Rock and walked there to see what was going on. There was a young man lying in the bushes and he was dead. Someone had turned him on his back because you could see the imprint of grass on his face. Later in the week, we read an article in the newspaper that he had been in the U. S. Navy, but they did not say what he had died from. Where he was lying was only about one hundred feet from our camp."

Clyde Guenther at the Niagara River Camp. Elephant Rock is in the background.
Where the white posts meet the trees a dead body was found.

Clyde Guenther's sailboat on shore near Franklin Street

"East, and across Military Road from the airport, was a very large field that was used for the town dump. It extended from Military Road to Delaware Road, and from Knoche Road to Waverly Road. This was where Pee Wee died when his parachute failed to open, and where we kids would junk pick.

"Many ferocious wild cats lived there. They were probably farm cats that had gone wild. They lived in the piles of trash, and if we chanced upon one, they would hiss and snarl like demons. One small pond was left back in the field, and a muskrat lived there. The dump was used for many years but finally became full.

"When they stopped dumping there they dumped in the gully next to our house. So for a while, we lived next to a dump. Living next to the dump was not too nice because of the noise, dust, smell, and flies. This was during the war, and a man told us kids he would pay us a nickel a bushel for broken bottles if we broke them up. Well, it seemed like fun at first, breaking bottles and putting them in bushel baskets, but we soon decided it was too much work and told him so. So that enterprise was short lived.

"It did not take long to fill the gully so they then started to dump at an abandoned gravel pit on the other side of the airport. Before it was made a dump we fished and swam there. We called it the Pit. Many rats lived at the dump and we would take our 22 rifles an shoot them for target practice. The original dump east of the airport changed from a dump to a cemetery. I often wonder what they run into when they dig for a grave? The gully next to our house was eventually the site of a Texaco gas station, and a bicycle repair shop."

[Ed.note: Reader Bud Reid informs that the airport Dad referenced was the Consolidated Bell Airport at Military and Ensminger Roads.]