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.

A True Story of Hollywood's Golden Age: Such Mad Fun

The 1939 Cosmopolitan cover says it all: The lovely and glamourous Jane Hall with her beloved Kate, captured at the height of her successful career as a Hollywood screen writer. The real deal, an early writing genuis published at age 13 who ended up in an office next door to F. Scott Fitzgerald screenwriting writing for the cash desperately needed to support his daughter Scottie in private school and wife Zelda in the sanitarium. He became a mentor and friend to Jane.

An Arizonia small town girl orphaned early and raised by her New York City aunt and uncle, Jane attended a posh private school and 'came out' as a deb. Caught up in the mad fun of endless deb parties that lasted into the early morning hours and required long days of sleep before the cycle started again, she found deb life shallow but irresistable.

Jane's early success writing for magazines was based on her outsider/insider look at the glamourous life of her contemporaries. Attracking the notice of an agent she was hired by MGM where she wrote the screenplay for These Glamour Girls. Jane thrived in the exhausting long days and hobnobbing with Hollywood elite at night. She was a success.

She kept suitors at bay with a singleminded desire to write...until she finally succumbed to the charming and handsome Bob Cutler, a recovering alcoholic and divorcee. Jane thought she'd met her Prince Charming, the perfect man who would also whole heartedly support her career. His glamourous life and money beckoned. They were the 'prefect couple'. They had a quiet marriage and a glamourous life.

But with marriage came responsiblities and Jane found it harder and harder to write, the old stories were old and she couldn't get a grasp on new stories. Metro hired her for $850 a week to work on a picture that was never made; the Japanese attacked Pear Harbor and everything changed.

The magazines were clamouring for Jane to submit stories, but she was facing writer's block. And after a mere 18 months of marriage she discovered the real Bob, a man who retreated into himself while dependant and demanding. Jane gave birth to her only child, and found that family expectations took over her life. She managed to write several more stories but realized that her Hollywood career has been 'thrown away'. Jane, like many women, settled for good enough.

Robin Cutler has presented an interesting biography of her mother's carer, enriched by personal letters and details of her screenplays and stories. Tis is more than a family memoir; it is a hitory of Hollywood's movie business and the Golden Age's 'mad fun' society. She also considers her mother's life in context of social expectations and opportunities for women at that time. Today many female writers juggle personal and professional lives. Jane lived during a time that offered little support for women desiring careers; in fact the author points out that some successful women felt guitly about their careers.

You can read more about Jane Hall and her life and times at Robin Cutler's website at
https://robinrcutler.com/

Read my review of West of Sunset by Stewart O'Nan about F. Scott Fitzgerald's last days in Hollywood at
http://theliteratequilter.blogspot.com/2015/01/drugs-booze-and-women-fitzgerald-in.html

I recieved a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Such Mad Fun
Robin R, Cutler
View Tree Press
Publication Sept 8, 2016
ISBN:97809974823-0-0 $14.95 paper
ISBN:97809974823-2-4  $9.99 ebook

Mary Kerr's Old Textiles in New Quilts

Twisted: Modern Quilts with a Vintage Twist  is Mary Kerr's newest publication. Vintage quilt blocks and fragments star in new, modern quilts created by 22 amazing quilt artists.

Beautiful photographs show the original vintage textile, how it was used in the new quilt, and the finished quilt. These are bed-sized quilt projects.

I was impressed by the originality of the final quilts. They have the hallmarks of a Modern Quilt: lots of negative space, use of solid color backgrounds, complicated machine quilting, and an overall graphic quality.

Mary wanted to blur the demarkation between traditional and modern quilts. She distributed the vintage pieces to her artists and allowed them to "work their magic". 

Shown in the photo above, Dahlias in the Snow is a remarkable quilt, but you'll have to get the book to see the completed quilt! The use of the original blocks is thoughtful and unusual.

Mary's previous publication A Quilted Memory: Ideas and Ispirations for Reusing Vintage Textiles similarly illlustrates how textile fragments can be employed in a new quilt.

These are small scale projects inspired by her own heirloom textiles and family history.

Kitchen linens, embroidered linens and dresser scarfs, handkerchiefs, doilies, buttons, and even vintage clothing are repurposed to make sweet wall hangings.

Mary shares images of her family and the original textile associated with them and the completed quilt employing the textile.

The photograph above shows Mary's grandmother and the painted kitchen linen she created. Mary paired her grandmother's work with fragments of an 1890 quilt for her completed project.

Mary used her mother-in-law's scarf and a red jacket to make a pillow.

If you don't have heirloom textiles, you can always purchase some! Mary found a set of day-of-the-week embroidered applique towels in an antique shop and used them to make the colorful quilt shown in the above photograph.

I can't wait to have time to play in the quilt room. I have a nice collection of unfinished vintage tops, blocks, and fragments. I am so imspired by Mary's vision!

I previously reviewed Mary's book Recycled Hexie Quilts which you can read about here.

These books by Mary, plus several more she has written, are available now.

I received free books from Schiffer Publishing in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.




Twisted
Mary Kerr
$19.99 soft cover

A Quilted Memory
Mary Kerr
$19.99 soft cover

To The Bright Edge of the World by Eowyn Ivey

In 1885 Colonel Allen Forrester, a veteran of the Apache Wars, was commissioned to explore Alaskan territory newly acquired from the Russians. It is a journey that took Allen and his men into a land of myth and legend, encountering natives with vicious reputations, shapeshifters and shamans.

Forrester left behind his newly wed wife Sophie, an amateur naturalist whose sensitive love of beauty and the wonders of this world had enchanted him. Sophie endured hope and loss, and discovered work that fed her soul as she waited for her beloved's return.

Their story is told in letters and journals which have been given to an Alaskan museum by Allen's grandson, Walter, now elderly and wanting return the stories to their source. In those pages, museum curator Josh encounters his own lost Native American heritage, documented only in the words written by the Alaskan explorers.

To The Bright Edge of the World by Eowyn Ivey was an enchanting read, at once an adventure tale of Alaskan exploration and the story of an independent woman seeking self-fullfillment, determined to become a photographer.

It is also an exploration of how the evil we wreck returns to destroy us. Allen's team includes men who served with him during the Apache Wars. During their journey Lieut. Pruitt declines into a physical and spiritual morass, haunted by his participation in the massacre of Native American women and children. He is an empy shell, a living man without a soul. Can these bones live again?

The characters traverse more than miles; they are on a deep sea journey of transformation that brings an understanding of the harsh truths of life, for at the edge of the world comes life-altering knowledge.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

To the Bright Edge of the World
Eowyn Ivey
Little, Brown, and Company
$26 hard cover
ISBN:9780316242851

Stop Ironing My Head and Other Sayings From Around the World

"You are my orange half" is a romantic saying in Spanish. It means the other is your soul mate.

In Finland "pacing around hot porridge like a cat" paints a word picture; the cat is desperately wanting to get into the porridge and can't just sit and wait so it paces.

"To look at the radishes from underneath" in German is a grim way of talking about being dead.

You can understand what those foreign sayings mean. But what about the Swedish "sliding in on a shrimp sandwich"? What can "to travel as a rabbit" possibly mean in Finnish? Or "to wear a cat on your head" in Japanese? And how can "I will eat your liver" possibly ever be an endearment? In Farsi it is not about the Walking Dead.

The Illustrated Book of Sayings: Curious Expressions from Around the World by Ella Frances Sanders is a follow-up to her best selling Lost in Translation.

Oh! Pregnant horse! (Filipino) This book is a delightful read. 52 sayings are explained and has a full page illustration. Sanders has a wonderful sense of the ridiculous. Even her bio is clever: she is "a writer out of necessity and an illustrator by accident."

Those interested in language or who seek a happy little book to liven, lighten, and enlighten their reading lives will enjoy this contribution.

And so, God bless you and may your mustache grow like brushwood. (Mongolian)

I received a free ebook through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

The Illustrated Book of Sayings
Ella Frances Sander
Ten Speed Press
publication date September 13, 2016
$14.95 hard cover
ISBN: 9781607749332

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

FDR's "Office Wife"-- and the Many Loves of Eleanor

President Franklin Roosevelt and Eleanor were a formidible leadership team but early in Franklin's career their relationship had become a marriage of convience. Each found imtimacy in relationships and friendships outside their marriage. Missy LeHand, FDR's personal secretary was at his side 24-7, swimming with him at Warm Springs and acting as a chief of staff. Eleanor's friendship, and perhaps love affair, with newswoman Lorena Hickock helped transform her into the First Lady of the World.

The Gatekeeper: Missy LeHand, FDR, and the Untold Partnership that Defined a Presidency by Kathryn Smith is the first biography of President Roosevelt's constant companion for twenty years in the office and out, the first female 'chief of staff' who could be found with her boss at night only wearing her nightgown.

With only a high school education Missy was hired as a personal secretary before FDR contracted polio. She rose with her boss to become his 'gatekeeper' and an influential and respected advisor in the White House.

Missy dedicated her life to her boss, She accompanied FDR as he pursued therapy, going on cruises and at Warm Springs (a place Eleanor disliked). Missy served as his hostess while Eleanor was following her own interests. Missy was given rooms in the governor's mansion and the White House and was intimate with Eleanor and the Roosevelt family.

Hobnobbing with the powerful and high society, including Joe Kennedy, Missy could pull off glamour and had flirtations and love affairs. Popular magazines ran articles about her. Her love letters to Bill Bullitt offer us glimpses of the woman.

Smith's biography covers FDR's life and career showing how Missy played her part. Much of this information I had already learned from other books about FDR, but this book offers deeper information on Missy's career, her health issues and death, her family, the articles and comments written about her by others, and especially her love letters where we finally hear Missy's voice.

I was glad to see a book about Missy.  I have read quite a few books on FDR, including James Tobin's The Man He Became , A First Class Temperament by Geoffrey Ward, and Doris Kearns Goodwin's marvelous No Ordinary Time, I sped read through much of the early parts of the book.

I received a free ebook from First to Read in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

The Gatekeeper
Kathryn Smith
Touchstone
Publication Sept. 6, 2016
$28 hard cover
ISBN:9781501114960

Eleanor and Hick: The Love Affair that Shaped a First Lady by Susan Quinn shows us the personal life and independent career of Eleanor Roosevelt, and explores her friendships with women and men who enriched her life and whom she deeply loved. Lorena Hickcok (Hick) was an AP journalist covering the White House when Eleanor met her. Sharing a train car while campaigning started a relationship that helped Eleanor become a capable leader and broke Lorena's heart.

Discovering her husband's love affair with her personal secretary moved Eleanor to offer a divorce; Franklin's mother said it would ruin his political career. Eleanor never forgave Franklin and their marriage was never again emotionally or physically intimate.

Eleanor became involved with a series of friendships that offered her the love and companionship she needed. The deep love expressed in her letters to Lorena Hickcock, as well as to male friends Joe Lash and her doctor David Gurewitsch, show her deep capacity to love. If any of these relationships included sexual intimacy is uncertain and unknowable but Eleanor's letters to Hick express longing for physical contact and expressions of love.

Eleanor had a history of close relationships to women from her time away at school when she idolized a teacher, to her close friendships with lesbian couples. Eleanor also may have had problems with intimacy and closeness. Her involvement in causes and political work and role as First Lady meant Hick hardly ever had Eleanor all to herself. They took trips together, vacationed together, and spent special holidays together. But it was never enough for Hick.

Eleanor had a great heart and felt deeply, and fought courageously, for the underdog, the powerless, the marginal; she championed equality for all. This book also shows how Hick's reporting and WPA work brought to attention the grinding poverty and dangerous workplaces, the starvation and health crisis across the country during the Depression. Hick was also a competent leader for Democratic Women.

This book shows how these strong women, so disimilar in background and class, impacted FDR's policies and improved the lives of Americans.

I recieved a free ebook through First to Read in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Eleanor and Hick: The Love Affair that Shaped a First Lady
Susan Quinn
$30 hardcover
Publication Date: Sept 16, 2016
ISBN: 9781594205408