Lynne O. Ramer "Gab Fest" of Mifflin Memories

My grandfather Lynne O. Ramer wrote hundreds of letters to his hometown newspaper which were shared by Ben Meyers in his We Notice That column. Today I am sharing his letter published on  January 13, 1960.

We Notice That

by Ben Meyers

The Heights Phone 8-8430

Dinkey Pix

Dear Ben: Here’s a letter from Lynne Ramer that’s chockfull of interesting memories which many WNT readers will enjoy. Got it after he read my letter in your column. He requested use of a couple old-time pictures such as the dinkeys and logging scenes in Seven Mountains. Intends to use them to illustrate a story he wrote for Steel Facts magazine. Seems we formed a friendship through the We Notice That column, for which I must say “Thanks!” With best wishes, sincerely,

Reed W. Fultz

Mifflintown R. D. 1

[Editor’s note: handwritten by LOR: “Died 1962”]

Gabfest by Mail

Dear Reed: As chances of getting together for a personal gabfest are remote, how about doing it by mail? So you’re one of the Fultz family? Yeah, boy!—there’s a family name deeply seated in memory.

Fred Fultz was my S[unday] S[school] teacher and our Sunday School superintendent for years at St. Paul’s Lutheran. His brother Rob (Baker) Fultz sneaked me many a baker’s dozen of cinnamon rolls, so I could eat the 13^th without Nammie Ramer or Aunt Annie Smithers catching on.

I can recall when Fred ran a grocery store in the old Campbell Funeral Parlors building. And how Uncle Charles Smithers used to tell me how he and Andy McClintic* put a wooden casket together in short order.

I remember innumerable visits to the old plaster house next to the Methodist Episcopal Church where my cousin Stella Diemer [Deamer]* lived. In the doctor’s office [that is] still there now, a doctor saved one of our twin sons, Donald, at the age of 10, from dying of jaundice. Donald and his twin David are now 24. David’s been serving aboard a U. S. sub at Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Down your way, Reed, I have got a college classmate, Alice M. Rearick*, who teaches either in Mifflin or Mifflintown schools. Please do me a big favor. Steel Facts that goes out to 175,000 readers will publish my article on “Iron Rails and Dinkeys on Appalachian Summits.” Won’t you let me borrow your photos with the dinkey and the Milroy loggers to illustrate it? Gilbert Shirk*, McVeytown R. D. 2, supplied me with many facts for the write-up.

As for Buzzie Peters, I knew him well. Also James (Fatty) Crissman* and the stagecoach. I set the coach on fire one day while smoking dried leaves and corn silk at the age of 8. He kicked my posterior and Nammie [Grandmother Rachel Reed Ramer] strapped the same place. We used to pasture our cow in Jimmy’s meadow.

I remember C. W. Peters and Sons laid almost every concrete sidewalk in Milroy, Reedsville, and elsewhere in the valley. You can still walk all over the Peters name!

Up on the flats in the a. m., picking huckleberries and picnic, then down on the logs, with dinkey whistle screaming across the Hartman Bottom, “Get supper ready--will be home soon!”

The old acetylene headlamps *like a ghost in the dark! “Them days is gone forever,” but not from memory. I just “loved” your letter in the WNT column. Do write some more.

Along with John Benjamin Boyer* of Milroy High I can never forget Miss Mary Barefoot*, who gave me the classics in Latin and English. She was just out of this world, and not easily forgotten.

Also the Rev. Martin Fansold, principal during World War I. He sent me off to Susquehanna University and the ministry, else I might never have gotten away from K. V. [Kishacoquillas Valley]. Probably would be working at SSW [Standard Steel Works] yet, as do Boozer Bobb [Gramp's cousin Lee Sidney Bobb], George and Walter Smithers [Gramp's cousins], etc. alia. Not a bad life either.

I can still recall Reikley Bros. Sawmill, the dam, the log chutes and the whirling saws. Also uncle Charles Smither’s planing mill and cider press.

wnt

Underground Honeycomb

Laurel Run sinks into the hill just below where Uncle Charles’s plum orchard reached. And again down behind the Winegardner farm above Naginey. There it plumb disappears. And a third place is the Big Sink just below the bridge in Milroy, opposite the old gristmill and below Rudy’s blacksmith shop.

There it sings in the summer. At Winegartner’s it sinks in the spring when waters are high. At the spot below the old plum orchard, the hole is almost plugged up. The water goes in with a sucking noise.

Up the valley, innumerable streams disappear. All come out at Honey Creek. That means Big Valley is a veritable honeycomb. That’s why the early settlers called it Honey Creek, i.e., honey out of the honeycomb!

Uncle Clyde Ramer and I used to sit and freeze all day Saturdays just to catch a few mullet out of Honey Creek above Reedsville. I can remember two old cable suspension bridges between Reedsville and Honey Creek, which we used to ride on as kids.

We also fished in Tea Creek above the mill which I hear just recently was burned. I remember the old tollgate at a point near the mill. And when cars couldn’t get around that corner to go towards Belleville.

Just to see what kids miss today: Towpaths, log chutes, sinks, huckleberry-picking, wild turkeys, “kettles” and “kitchens” in the mountains, dinkeys, jackasses, whirling saws, literary societies, cakewalks, Fourth of July and Decoration Day parades, Barnum & Bailey’s circus parades, trolleys, Bird Rock. Now all they have is TV!

Orris Pecht*, the school teacher, farmer Charles McLelland*, and I used to pitch hay together on Charlie’s farm on the Back Mountain road beyond the Klinger farm. Charlie used to say, “The farmer, the school teacher, and the preacher—three in one!” I saw Charles just a few days before he died. Orris, as far as I know, is still around. Anne Burkins, Charlie’s daughter, was my High School flame. (One of them!) Best regards to all the Fultz clan.

*****

NOTES:

*The Fultz family records show that my grandfather's pen pal, Reed William Fultz was born in February 1904 and died March 1962 in Mifflintown, Juanita, Pennsylvania. At the time of his death, he worked for the American Viscose Corporation. Reed married Jessie Shotzberger.

The 1910 Census shows Reed living with his family: Harry R, age 25, a lumberman; Bessie J, age 24; Reed W. age 6; Arthur A. age 4; Charles age 3. Son Miles Forrest was born in Milroy, PA in 1909. 

In 1919 Bessie died and the 1920 Census shows the children living with their maternal Ramsey grandparents on Treaster Valley Rd. in Milroy, PA. James R. Ramsey was a farmer married to Nancy M. Nellie, age one, and grandchildren Charles, Miles, and William lived with them.

The 1920 Census shows Reed living with wife Bessie M., age 25, and their daughter Olive M., age one and a half. Their home was valued at $1,800.

*Fred Cleveland Fulz (7/1888-10/1976) appears on the 1930 Armagh Census as a grocer, married to Blanche M. and father to children Geraldine P, age 17, and Elizabeth M, age 10. On the 1910 Census he appears working as a store clerk and living with his parents David Fultz, 48, and mother Catherine 48, and siblings Milton, 28, a baker, sister Ruth, and Bertha, a grandchild to David and Catherine.

*Stella Deamer (born July 31, 1883) was the daughter of Charles Ramsey and Emma Reed (1851-1909) who was his grandmother's ('Nammie' Rachel Reed Ramer) sister.

Stella married Nevin Ellsworth Deamer. His WWI Draft Card showed he worked for Standard Steel. They had two children, Perry and Francis. Nevin died on October 8, 1919, the first Mifflin County victim of the Influenza Epidemic.


The 1920 census shows Stella was a dressmaker.

Stella later married Thomas Peter Fultz who died in 1948. Stella died July 25, 1945, in Burnham, Mifflin County, PA.

The Methodist Episcopal Church (now United Methodist) is located at 91 S. Main St, Milroy PA.

*Andrew 'Andy' Felix  McClintock (b. 10/9/1948, d.9/26/1915) appears on the 1910 Armagh, Milroy Census with his wife Ada Jane Crissman (1861-1921). Find A Grave had the entire family including Andy's parents Rosanna (1811-1890) and father Felix (1802-1883) and his siblings. Andy's grandfather James (1782-1834) served in the American Revolution.

*Alice M. Rearick was Gramp's Susquehanna University classmate in the class of 1924.

Alice was in the Y.W.C.A. in 1923.

She appears in the 1922 Lanthorn as Omega Delta Sigman member.

Alice was on the Lanthorn Staff when Gramps was editor-in-chief.

*Gilbert M. Shirk began writing to my grandfather after reading his articles in the Lewiston Sentinel. He was a 'relation' through Gramp's natural father. Gil and Gramps met once when they were children.

* James Meade Crissman (1863-1923), son of John McDowell Crissman and Mary Jane Aikens, owned a stable in Milroy and the 1920 census shows he was a "drayman" and mail carrier. James married Mary Sterrett in 1895.

*Acetylene gas headlamps on trains and automobiles were used beginning around 1901. Learn more here.

*John Benjamin Boyer (1883-) was a 1908 graduate of Bucknell University.

I found his WWI registration card.

*Mary Margaret Barefoot, my grandfather's teacher, was born April 12, 1890, to William and Mary Sterrett Barefoot. On October 11, 2910, the forty-year-old Mary married Albert Vincent Landgren, an electrical engineer. She died on July 16, 1981 in Canton, OH.

*Orris Wilmot Pecht (1873-1964) was a farmer on 1910 census and a schoolteacher on his WWI Draft Card and the 1920 census.

*There is a  Charles Edward McLelland (1875-1941) whose death certificate shows he was a retired farmer and married Hannah Pecht.

But I can't find a daughter Anne in the records.

*Anna M. Burkins (1900-1993) appears in the records as a schoolteacher. On Find A Grave, her parents appear as David Riley Burkins and Mary McLenahen.
Anna taught history in Lewistown High School.

I find a *Charles McClenahen (1807-1849) who married Agnes Wingate who had son John Ambrose McClenahen (1846-1901) who married Anna Bertha Geer and they had daughter Anna Mae. Either Gramps was misremembering names or his handwriting was misunderstood when the newspaper printed his letter.

Lynne O. Ramer on Stables, Barns, Shantys, and Sheds

Today I am sharing my grandfather Lynne O. Ramer's articles about barns and sheds of his childhood in Milroy, PA in the early 1900s. Gramps sent his articles to Ben Meyer who shared them in his We Notice That column in the Lewistown Sentinel in the 1960s.

Joseph Sylvester Ramer and his second wife Barbara Rachel Reed Ramer were Lynne O. Ramer's grandparents.
The photo shows the Milroy, PA farm he lived on as a child.

*****

Lots of Work and Fun-Making When Barns Flourished

Up in the Haymow
Being a Blue Hollow lad back in the days, when every famer had its great big and roomy barn, filling it was a lot of hard work. But there was something to compensate for it. There was lots of fun-making, too.

Up in the haymow there were also sheaves of wheat, oats, and corn stalks. The mow's floor consisted of scant, open-face planks where the food for the livestock had to be handled with tender care or it would be ruined.

To prevent spontaneous combustion and heatings and excess molds, causing fire to break out and perhaps burn the building to the ground, there had to be proper ventilation.

So the kids had to keep the hays and straws and sheaves in the most intricate manner. After these things began to settle down, the puzzle of getting out of it would have challenged the skill of an escape artist like Houdini. The kids had a job trying to untangle the mess.

It was hard on the kids, too, on a smotheringly hot day. In the haymows the harried youths dragged and tramped the hays until they actually dropped from sheer fatigue.

Remember, it was 108 degrees up there beneath the tin roof. Then the kids sweated, but in the winter time they almost froze up there, chutting the feeds down through the mow hole, down to the ever hungry horses and cows.

Yet, despite all this, it was like a paradise up there next to the cool tin roof on a rainy day. It was pleasant and relaxing, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain. Or the clank-clank of hail stones in sweet music as they descended on the corrugated galvanized roof.

'Twas no place to linger on sub-zero days, dragging the food supply to the mow holes. It was fully a 50-foot drop from the top of the mows to the barn floor below.

Early 1900s, John O'Dell on his farm near Capac, MI

 Knocked Out Cold

So the muscle-power of the cows and horses had to be called on to help. A one-inch hemp rope around the neck of Old Daisy, Old Bessy, or Old Dobbin, or Old Mary would pull the pitchfork holding sheaves up to the top.

Farm horses early 1900s. John O'Dell farm in Brown City, MI

This arrangement worked real well. But then one day Mary's colt whinnied at an unguarded moment. The rope was tightened as Mary tired to go to her baby and it caught the farm boy, who was tossed through the air "with the greatest of ease."

When he hit bottom he bounced off a heap of limestone. Result: The lad was knocked out cold. It was a long sleep for him before he woke up with the help of old Doctor Boyer*. Unconscious he was from 2 pm to 8 am the next day. The youngster had the "ride of his life," nearly the last ride.

When the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed and the rain and hail pummeled the galvanized roof, nobody had to worry about being up in the haymow. They felt perfectly sage. There were four lightning rods. Ben Franklin proved a point with his kite.

If a lad got careless when the mows were being filled he ight disappear in the heap, falling through an unfloored section of the floor, reappearing again in the stable below--scaring a horse or cow half out of its wits.

Threshing in 1920. John O'Dell farm near Capac, MI

Thresher Comes Around

The time came when Homer Cressman** bought his throwing rig to separate the chaff from the grain. The thresher was set up. And soon the barn floors were littered with dust and chaff and the wheat and oats sheaves did fly.

Hay stack in early 1900s. Photo of the John Kuhn farm in Tonawanda NY

The cone-capped stack grew bigger and even bigger in height and width. There the livestock could munch later, but meanwhile the chickens followed the sifting chaff and grains away out into the meadows and fields.

Yes, the kids had lots of useful things to fill their lives. Unlike the youths today, they didn't need thrills such as some do nowadays--pulling over mail boxes, prowling rural lanes, scaring the people by the noise of their motorcycles.

Gone are the days and gone also are many of the old-fashioned barns which furnished so much work and play, not only for kids, but for all the family.

*****

Barn raising and barn. John O'Dell farm near Capac, MI early 1900s.

Here’s What Goes Into the Barn and What Comes Out

Chicken Thief Surprised

Come, if you will, with us and we’ll take a look at the most important of all the farm buildings next to the farmer’s house. Namely, the barn. Let’s think of what goes on in them, what goes into them, and what comes out of them.

"tilling the soil" around 1920 involved a team of horses.

John O'Dell fam, Capac, MI

Lined up side by side are the various stables, three of them. First on the left come the horse (and colt) stables; next, in the center, come the bulls’ and calves’ stables, and on the right are the milk cow’s stables.

There are entries or runways between the rows, whence the brans, chops, grains, corns, hays fodders are dispensed into the mangers, troughs, racks, etc., from bins and haymows.

Stalls for the animals may be solid walled planks to prevent Old Dobbin from kicking Old Daisy. If there is nothing as substantial as the walls between the livestock, then merely a long chained to the ceiling, is poked though the hay and racks.  The log, swinging freely, gently touches the flanks or rumps of the horses, poking them and reminding them to stay in the middle of their domain.

The story is told of two young scamps who had stealthily come into the horse stables one night, seeking to get some roasting chickens for a dough bake at Potlicker Flat. {Note: Potlicker Flat was a real place!] The horses, let out to munch and sleep in the nearby meadows, had made room for the fowls to come in to roost for the night.

The kids had to work in the dark. One of them accidentally knocked against the log hanging from the ceiling. Like a pendulum, the big heavy log began to swing back and forth, finally sticking against the rump of one kid.

The one who was hit started to run away as fast as he could, yelling, “Charlie! Run! He got me!” He thought it was the framer, Andy Swartzell***, who hit him with a club.  Both of the lads, indeed all actors in the little episode, are now long gone.

Bringing in the hay early 1900s. Photo of John Kuhn on his farm in Tonawanda, NY

A Fall From Mow

Across the entire rear end of these runways we mentioned is a narrower runway for dragging feed to the animals. Across holes to the mows above are made, each one having a ladder to crawl up and down as one wishes.

A fall or jump from the haymow above or the straw mow or fodder mow to the heaped up pile below was a breath-taking thrill or a breath-taking thump, depending on whether it was intended or accidental. Many a farmer’s boy or even the farmer himself or a hired hand has been seriously hurt in one of these falls.

These horse stables and cow stables are cleansed daily (huh, well, maybe every day) but the colts and calves’ stables offal are allowed to accumulate on the floor.  That makes it easier for their shorter legs to reach the mangers and hay-fodder ricks.

Some accumulations remain all winter. Hence the spring cleaning is a task detested by the teen and pre-teen farm lads. When the oldsters aren’t watching some kids curl up in a wheelbarrow and read such smuggled literature as the Alger Books, the American Boy, Youth’s Home Companion, Jesse James, Liberty Boys of ’76. This is done between barrowsful.

Outside in the barnyard, too, are the straw stacks. There the munching, lunching cows and horses chomp away, but only as high as they can reach, say six to eight feet.  As a result the stack assumes a mushroom shape.

Roosters Lose Dignity

On occasions, tunnels are eaten straight through the stack and on rare occasions the pile tumbles over onto the cattle, sending them scampering and snorting.

Under the barn’s overshoot a clay-gravel path, an all-season access from the outside can be made to all stables. Two or three rock-salt boxes are handy. Also the water trough is under the overshot, so the feeders and drinkers can be out of the weather altogether.

In the troughs are horny chubs that tickle the noses of the cattle and tease the Rhode Island Red roosters which mostly fall in when pecking at a surfacing chub.  Lose all their fowlish dignity as they get a through dunking.

This is just a compressed resume of what goes on, into and out of stables in barns.  To which you can add your own imagination.  How about it?

John O'Dell barn near Capac, MI around 1920

*****

Some Farmers Still Have A Shanty House Left

City folks are familiar with the vacation homes, which we recently described.  But there are still left county people having many different houses. They include at each farm the following: the shanty, the barn, the milk shed, the wood shed, the implement shed, the smoke house, the outhouse, and not forgetting the corn crib and granary, also the silo.

Now the shanty is most used of all.  Most of these are attached to the main dwelling, but some stand off by themselves.

So what is it used for?  Well, the shanty is merely a lean-to at rear of the farm house, used as a supplementary kitchen.  Or laundry. 

In a sense the shanty is an air-conditioned annex, to keep the boiling clothing on wash day from steaming up the kitchen, as well as eliminate the heat of canning, preserving, baking, etc. out of the summer kitchen. By air-conditioning we mean it’s cooler there than in the kitchen due to the opened and unscreened windows, during the summer time.

The shanty provides a means of preparing butchering dinners or holiday dinners or when the “city relatives” pile in on the farmer’s family unexpectedly.

In the winter it is not quite as warm as the kitchen, so that grandma, in her woolen shawl, can scrape the hog’s small intestines clean for the sausage-making. And all this without freezing her nimble fingers. 

If you ever tried to preserve jams, vegetables, and pickles all on the same stove, you can readily see how useful is that “extra stove” in the shanty.

We must not overlook the privacy of a shanty for a bath, either in a 12-inch basin or in a full-sized galvanized laundry tub. For both of these versions the bath must be taken in a stand-up position.

And when the soft (lye) soap skids across the floor, have no fear.  he soap can’t hurt the bare, splintery floor. So just gingerly trace the soap and retrieve it.

If you are fortunate enough to have like-minded cousins who want to take a scrubbing, you can exchange the scrub brush. Then both get a good going-over. While standing yet!

There really ain’t time, nor temperature, to play with sail boats or plastic toys else the water may begin to freeze before your toys float to the other side of the make-shift tub. You see, we can spare only one tea kettle full of hot water per person per week.  Rinsing is verboten.

Other functions of the shanty were for milk-seperatin’, butter churnin’, sausage grindin’, mush boilin’.

John O'Dell farm near Capac, MI around 1920

Snowbound in Barn
   
Now that all of these things are done for us, in national establishments, put up cartooned, canned, wrapped and shipped everywhere for immediate consumption, there is really no honest-to-goodness uses for a shanty.  (About as useless as a bath in a 21-day trip to the moon).

It was the custom to make all the different buildings inter-communicating in U or L formation so a person could walk from one end to the other without being exposed to the weather.
   
Why was this so? Because during a heavy snow the drifts might pile up 20 feet deep. Hence it was not a good idea to get snow-bound until the next spring in the barn. One might be marooned there and unable to separate the milk for a long time.

If the farmer and his family weren’t too finicky they could fetch the cows into the kitchen to milk, or the pigs to slop or the Rhode Island Reds to nest.
   
The fashion today is to have two homes or two places to live when the family is so minded where to have them located.  But that kind of life will never be as exciting as in the day when the shanty flourished! 

*****

Sheds: Attached to Every Barn

Our story about the farm shanties naturally leads to another kind of building that always could be found nearby—the sheds. Let’s talk about a typical Blue Hollow shed located in one of the ravines in the east end of Kish Valley [Kishacoquillas Valley, known locally as both Kish Valley and Big Valle]. Here’s how it looked, say about the year 1915:

Like every barn, Blue Hollow’s has attached to it a shed, located at right angles to the higher barn roof. The shed generally becomes “all purpose,” for dozens of functions. In the back end of the shed are stored the harrows, the discer, the hay rakes, the tedder.

And in the forefront of the shed is the milk wagon, a light spring wagon, with no top to shield one from the weather. Then at the outer edge of the shed is a corn crib. Here are stored a few hundreds of bushels of corn.

The bottom and sides of the crib are lined with quarter-inch wire mesh to keep out the rats. But the mice find entrance and enough corn silk to make a dozen cozy nests, lined with chicken feathers and the fleece of sheep. But the mice consumption of corn kernels is not heavy due to the barn cat that keeps their number down.

Outside the crib door is a knotty old chopping block on which you cut corn-on-cobs into a dozen pieces with your trusty hatchet. There the barn fowls of all kinds can peck the kernels off the cob more easily and so the cobs will decompose in the nearby manure heap. Not only chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys gather for the feast, as do also the semi-wild guineas and semi-tame pigeons.

John O'Dell farm near Capac, MI around 1920

Implements Aplenty

To the other side of the shed is an assortment of things including a huge anvil mounted on a block, a few wooden horses to hold up any platform, a hand-operated forge and a boxful of coal.

Ranked against the stable side wall are these implements: Picks, hoes, rakes, grubbing pick, a 16-pound sledge hammer, a two-bitted axe, a crowbar or two, pieces of water pipe, iron stakes, etc.

Hanging of the wall are cross-cut saws, a crossback saw, regular woodsaws; a hacksaw, small hand axes, pip wrenches, monkey open- and closed-end wrenches, collars, hamess, fly netting, harnesses, whiffletrees, etc.---all of which need mending and re-riveting.

Oh, we forgot! There stands a 300-400 pound grindstone. And nearby is a stock of scythes, sickles, a cradle, cutter bars from mowers and reaper-binders, corn cutters, bush hooks---all needing tedious hours of turning and grinding and whetting.

Fastened to the wall are a 20-foot long, two-inch thick plank work benches side-by-side, with a few shelves, and drawers underneath for a grand assortment of boxes, cans, jars. The boxes once contained cut plug chewing tobacco. The cans were once full of paint.

As for the Mason glass jars, they were “stolen” from the missus’ cellar. In the receptacles were nails, screws, washers, cotter keys, nuts, bolts, glazier’s points, all sorts of rivets, hasps, hinges for small doors.

Busiest Spot on Farm

And in the large bins were hoops, hinges, clevises, snaps, open rings, closed rings, horseshoe nails, horseshoes, rasps, chisels, awls, punches.

There were barber-wire cutters, fence wire stretchers, also staples of all sizes. Ranked beyond the work bench were unused rolls of three different heights of fence and chicken fence and barbed wire, rolls of tar paper, and a parcel bundle of cedar shingles. There were shoe lasts for humans.

Over all was the layer of dust, mixed with chaff and chicken, pigeon and swallow offal.

On rainy days this was the busiest spot on the farm. Grinding edges of axes, scythes, cutter bars. This entailed the labor of chiseling off the rivets and installing new rivets, either by the anvil or on a handy length of rail from the Reichley**** Brother’s logging railroad, or from the Naginew***** or Shaeffer’s quarries. Yet, perhaps also from the Pennsy [Pennsylvania] Railroad.

*****

NOTES

* Old Doc Boyer appears on the 1910 census for Old Armgah Township  as  Dr. S. J. Boyer, age 53, with wife Emma E., age 42. On the 1920 Census Samuel J. Boyer is age 63 and lives with his wife Emma and their children Walter, age 13, and Roy, age 11. Samuel J. Boyer died in 1943 and is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Milroy, PA. His son Walter Wendell died of Typhoid fever at age 31; he was born Feb 3, 1857 and died in 1918. Walter worked as a telegraph operator for the Pennsylvania Rail Road.

**S. Homer Cressman appears on the Armagh Township census. He was born about 1859 and worked as a store clerk in 1880. He was widowed and a traveling salesman in 1920, living with his son Gilbert, daughter-in-law Minnie, and grandchildren George and Samuel, on Gilbert's farm. In 1930 he owned a saw mill.

*** According to his death certificate, Charles Andrew Swartzell was born Sept. 9, 1863 and died January 11, 1929. His parents were Andrew Szartzell and Mary Ann Aitkins. He married Ann C. Linthrust. His occupation was farmer. His death certificate was signed by Dr. S. J. Boyer.

****According to Lost Railroads, found at http://lostrailroads.com/about/: This railroad was built by Reichley Brothers to connect their operations with [the] tramroad Gotshall had constructed southwest from Poe Paddy, through Panther Hollow and past Dinkey Springs. It must have been built shortly after 1900, after they acquired the Monroe Kulp mill at Milroy and associated railroads and chose to abandon the original Reichley tramroad from Poe Paddy along Poe Creek.

According to a Armagh Township History from http://www.pagenweb.org/~mifflin/twp-history.html: *****Naginey [city] was named for Charles Naginey and is the site of a vast limestone quarry. It was also a station on the Milroy Branch of the Pennsylvania Railroad.

Grampa's Memories: Child Play 100 Years Ago

My grandfather Lynne O. Ramer (1903-1971) wrote over 200 articles submitted to his hometown newspaper and shared in Ben Meyer's column We Notice That. This year I will be sharing some of these articles.

Today's article appeared August 2, 1968.

Lynne O. Ramer, left, age eight with his cousin 

Lynne O. Ramer on his mother's lap, age six

Participating, Simple Toys Liked Best by Youngsters

“All work and no play
Makes Jack a dull boy.”
(So said an ancient adage).

“All play and no work
Makes Jack a mere toy.”
(So says more up-to-date sage).

(wnt)

The Incredible Brocks

From the dawn of creation down to now children love to play with toys.  Says a German professor, living in the heart of the world’s toy manufacturing world:

“Children of all ages and all peoples are the same in the aptitudes and their desires, and thus the same in their play urge too. The baby’s rattle, the small child’s ball, the house of bricks (blocks) the toy animal and the doll have changed very little throughout the ages.”

Kids like toys best that enable them to enjoy participation, on their part doing something, instead of watching an intricate gadget that performs of itself.  They would rather play with an old box than with a fancy new toy.

Now and then, in a city large or a village small, a family can exert a powerful influence on all the kids in the neighborhood, helping them to get real pleasure in making their own playthings. One such family was that into which were born three boys---the Brocks. Their names were Robert, Albert and Luther. They lived in Milroy.

It was really fantastic, almost incredible, what a great variety of “do-it-yourself” amusements they devised. And how the neighbor kids loved them for it. They dazzled and delighted all the small fry in the village.

(wnt)

Making Their Own Fun

As he recalled the Brocks, a native Milroyan told us [added in ink: Lynne], it was during the decades 1900 to 1920 that the three boys were the talk of the town.

First they had a home-made merry-go-round with a grand organ that produced music. It was all hand operated, much to the delight of the teens and preteens who flocked, some invited and some not, to come and enjoy the fun.

The play room—we’d call it the recreation room nowadays—was the storage room off the kitchen.  There among the pies and cookies cooked for the family use, but shared with the youngsters who came calling between meals, were the home-made playthings.

There were hand-carved spreading fans inside of Mason jars, continuous chain links carved from one billet of wood. There were two spinning cylinder wire cages housing chipmunks who chattered gaily all day long.

Continuous wood chain by John O. O'Dell

Besides these and dozens of other games to play there were stacks of comic strips from the Williamsport Gazette and the Philadelphia North American. These consisted of the adventures of the Katzenjammer Kids, Jiggs and Maggie [Bringing Up Father], Enoch Periwinkle Pickleweight [The Peaceful Pickleweights], John Dubbalong and the like.*

On a rainy day there would be no less than 10 or 12 little boys deeply at their work-play, reading the old “continued funnies,” grinding the hurdy-gurdy carousel, and intently watching the chippies race around the insides of their wire cylinders.

There were stacks of paperbacks of adventure characters, such as the Liberty Boys of ’76, Jesse James**, Fred Fearnot+*** , and every known Horatio Alger tale--Andy Grant’s Pluck****, From Rags to Riches.

“And so it went for many happy hours or boyhood daze” says one of the guests. “So once more, it’s thanks to Robert, Albert and Luther Brock, not forgetting their doting mother and a kind father who realized how to keep kids happy and busy, making and using their playthings.”

The lessons learned well by the youngsters of that time. Long since grown to manhood and womanhood, is this: “It isn’t necessary to buy one’s children expensive and attractive mechanical toys, but something requiring participation. And never forget children are fondest of things they improvise themselves---cooking pans and saucers, empty thread spools, old tin cans, a handful of bright, shiny horse chestnuts.”

Lynne O. Ramer ("it"), at 6, with his school classmates in Milroy, PA

*****

Genealogy findings:

I researched the Milroy Brock family on Ancestry.com.

The patriarch of the family, James Brown Brock (b. 7-29-1858; d. 3-29-1927) , married Minnie Melissa Maben (1867-1925) in 1889.

The 1900 Census for Armagh, Old District,  shows James was a carpenter. The 1910 Census for Armagh, Old District, shows James, age 52, worked in the stone quary. Minnie, age 43, was mother to Oscar, age 19 and working as a baker; Robert, age 17 and working as a presser in a woolen mill; Albert, age 15 and Luther J., born in 1902.

On the 1920 census James and Minnie lived on College Ave. in Milroy.

James' death record shows his father was Adam Brock and mother Mary was born in Germany.

Minnie Mabin Brock was the daughter of Joseph B. Mayben (1835-1900) and Amanda J. Weimer (1833-1880). Joseph was a private in Co. L, 13th Cav. during the Civil War. Amanda was the daughter of Zachariah Weimer (b. 1809), son of Johannes Weimer (b, 1767 and died in Juniata Co. PA) and Mary Brackbill.

The children in my grandfather's story:

Oscar Ream (1890-1973) has a WWI draft card showing he was a baker living in Ohio. His WWII Draft Registration shows he was married to Mary A. and was self employed.

Robert Earl (1892-1964) married Helen C. The 1920 Census shows they lived in Detroit, MI where Robert worked for a motor company as a tool maker. His WWII Draft Card showed he lived in Jersey Shore, PA and owned his own machine shop.

Son Albert Lowell (1894-1979) enlisted during WWI.

Luther Thomas (1892-1964)  has a draft card for WWII which shows he worked for the Armagh County School Board. Luther died in 1964 and is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in his hometown of Milroy, PA. along with his parents and siblings.

*****

Footnotes:

The Katzenjammer Kids and Bringing Up Father were read by my grandfather, mom, and I recall they were still running when I was a kid.

* From the July 14, 1915 New York Canisteo Times, found on Old Fulton Postcards:

Famous Family of Pacificists to Enlarge Its Sphere of Operations.

Who has not chuckled over the unending complications in the household of the Pickleweights — Enoch, the plaintive; Maria, the masterful; Ichabod, the Injun strategist; Dill, the rotund and voracious, and Helen Battleax, gallant defender of her brother's innocence and helplessness?
For years the tribulations of this interesting family have delighted reade rs of the Philadelphia North American, and the characters created by Cartoonist Bradford have become familiar to thousands. In fact, the Pickleweights have grown to be such an institution that more space and special treatment are required to chronicle their explosive history.

Next Sunday, July 11, therefore, they make their appearance in the Sunday North American, occupying a full page, in colors. Henceforth, it is understood, they are to be known to fame as "The Peaceful Pickleweights." Bradford announces that they have moved into the country, in the hope
that tranquil scenes, far removed from the turmoil of the city, will allay the hostilities that have divided them. The first page in the series shows them installed In their new home.

Unfortunately the occasion is marred by some deplorable accidents; but it is the universal
hope that the family has entered upon a career of peace. This is only one feature of The North American's new comic section, which, it is declared, will be the best in the country. With the Pickleweights will appear each Sunday the original Katzenjammer Kids, whose antics have convulsed uncounted readers; "Just Boys," a page of homely humor that will delight everyone who has known childhood, and a fourth page, on the most indulgent of young parents and "Their Only Child." This new comic section will add immensely to the fascination of the Sunday North American and should prove a source of never-ending deltght to all who enjoy rollicking fun.

Order from your newsdealer today.

*****

**You can read a Jesse James dime novel from 1901 at
 https://web.stanford.edu/dept/SUL/library/prod/depts/dp/pennies/texts/lawson_toc.html

*** Read a 1914 Fred Fearnot dime novel at

https://web.stanford.edu/dept/SUL/library/prod/depts/dp/pennies/texts/standish2_toc.html

**** Read Horatio Alger's novel Andy Grant's Pluck at

http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14831

Our Heirloom Quilts

Growing up  there were no quilters in my family. But in 1966 my grandfather took my mom and me with him on a trip 'back home' to Milroy, PA to visit his Aunt Carrie. And Aunt Carrie gave him and my grandmother a quilt which was given to my mom, who gave it to me in the 1970s.

Carrie V. Ramer Bobb was my grandfather's mother's sister. When Gramps lost his mother and then his grandmother, he was an orphan at the age of nine years. Sisters Aunt Carrie and Aunt Annie Ramer Smithers took turns raising him. My grandfather Lynne O. Ramer got a sound education, and worked his way through college and seminary and gaining a teaching certificate.

Aunt Carrie (1904-1971)

The quilt passed down to me is a Dresden Plate. The layers were machine sewn, with the backing turned to the front and sewn down. Then the plates were hand appliqued to the quilt!

The background fabric is white, the plate centers are light blue or medium blue.

The quilt was likely made in the early 1960s shortly before it was gifted to my grandfather. I expect that like most quilters, Aunt Carrie had a collection of fabrics that spanned the early 20th century and came from a wide variety of sources.  In September 1965 my grandfather wrote a letter to the Lewistown Sentinel about just where Carrie got her stash:

“Well we have stitched on another vacation patch to the crazy quilt of life. At the Richfield ‘Ramer clutch” several widely separated cuzzins brought bags of patches for Aunt Carrie Bobb of the Mifflin County Home, who has another Postage Stamp Quilt under way.

     “Aunt Carrie sews on this quilt between times devoted to the guests and writing 10 letters each week.  This year the patches came from Bethesda, Camden, Annapolis, Indianapolis, Sinking Valley, Allen Park and Berkley, etc., etc.—and a crazy assortment they were to be sure!”

   “Yet when a quilt is complete there is some manner of symmetry and form to the total, be it a Dresden Circles, a Field of Diamonds, a Double Wedding Ring or just a plain Postage Stamp.

     “Such is life! Patches added willy nilly, seemingly with no central purpose, yet the total displays an amazing degree of purpose.  A quilt is hard to see because we look at the patches, just like it’s said we can’t see the forest due to the single trees."

The fabric scraps from Allen Park and Berkley were from Michigan: Gramps lived in Berkley and his daughter Nancy in Allen Park.  The scraps from Annapolis was my mom's brother, Uncle Dave and his wife Pat.

Aunt Carrie Bobb's grandson, Sid Bobb, shared with me a photo of the two Aunt Carrie quilts he inherited, a Drunkard's Path variation in red and white and a Grandmother's Flower Garden variation in pastels.

I also have a quilt from my husband's side of the family, given to me by my mother-in-law. It was made by her grandmother, Harriet Scoville (Scovile, Schoville) Nelson, and was given to her daughter Charlotte Grace Nelson O'Dell,  then came to my mother-in-law Laura Grace O'Dell Bekofske.

Harriet Scoville  (1877-1951)and Aaron Nelson. 

Charlotte Grace Nelson and John Oren O'Dell, 1896

Laura Grace O'Dell Bekofske

 The quilt is a red and white Single Wedding Ring, with a polka dot backing, and tied with faded red and white floss.

The cotton batting is quite lumpy!

 The edges were turned in and machine sewn. A thread was never cut. The floss looks pink, but is pin or red and white.

 The quilt was kept in Laura's cedar chest and never used. Tannin in the wood left brown spots.

Laura made Gary and I several quilts in the early 1980s, a blue Log Cabin and a multi-colored Sister's Choice, much beloved by our son.

By the time I started to quilt in 1991, my mother-in-law was ending her quilting career. Arthritis had settled in her thumb joint. She instead took up counted cross stitch. Her vision remained clear and she enjoyed this work until her death.