Tag: Ohio
Is this too harsh? Even on a bad day?
A few asides on the small town where I was dwelling.
John Quinn, who grew up in Fostoria: “Small, flat, uninteresting. Platt-Deutsch. Smelly. Thick-skulled Catholic diluted with third-removed Yankee.”
B.L. Reid: “An ethnic polyglot with many Germans and a sprinkling of Irish and one unusual strain, a tribe of Belgians. To the time of the First World War, three out of four sermons a month in the Catholic church were preached in German. The Belgians were the glassworkers and conducted the local industry. A small opera house was visited by traveling musicians and players. Pretty public parks were much frequented by the Germans and Belgians, often observing their transplanted holidays in their native costumes. The Belgians formed a fine concert band and Belgian funerals, led by the band and followed by mourners on foot, were a familiar and impressive sight.”
Radio “newsman” Mel Murray, in his own voice, used my newspaper column as his “editorial” this morning on WFOB, two days after the concert I had reviewed. Obviously, he wasn’t there.
The people of this town gossip and bitch to each other but when it comes time to stand up, run away. They all want somebody else to stand up for their view, yet are afraid of anything different or new. They seem to be sleeping on their feet.
“Findlay’s only got nickel millionaires, but here, shit, these pishers may got money but they stick it up their ass.”
Nickel millionaires, sez the trashy town’s foot doctor.
[Findlay was headquarters of Marathan Oil and Cooper Tire & Rubber; Fostoria had none.]
~*~

~*~
This piss-hole of a city! So much negativity, jealousy, and hatred it’s a struggle for anyone to remain alive long – negativity that could kill a horse
This place is still a swamp, not even an idea to look up to.
Everything’s got to be good or bad. Their minds can’t handle anything more. Their minds don’t work anywhere near as fast as their hatreds do.
They keep electing crooks just like themselves.
Reporter Tom, a West Virginian, observing how these Midwestern towns build statues of their founders and then live in the shadows: They think they’re friendly, chattering all day, cutting down each other, not a good word to say, a whole damned town of gossips, women and men …
As I saw it, the thing about this place is there’s nothing to look at, no lofty ambitions like a mountaintop, not even a holy man with a begging bowl.
There wasn’t even a river running through it or a lovely lake or pond to ponder. Just the railroad tracks and truck traffic.
As seen from my second-floor apartment window on Main Street back in Fostoria
- Municipal parking lot: park all day, 25 cents.
- Cadillac/Oldsmobile used car lot.
- Brick Mansard house turned into offices.
- Footlighters Playhouse in the old Methodist church.
- Three boarding houses.
- Tri-County Glass.
- Back of the roller rink.
- Ray coming to work at 5:30 a.m. at Dell’s Restaurant.
- Fruths’ Hardware, Penney’s with Emergency Corps bingo games upstairs, Firestone office (repairs around the corner), the old Sohio gas station turned into a second-day bakery outlet.
- Police cars, firetrucks, trees, assorted traffic.
Plus the sign for St. Vincent’s below me
~*~

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Buckeye
OH
Kinisi 237
John Brown Road
John Yoh Road
Dutch John Road
…
close enough
but don’t cross
unlike Elm Sugar
Wilbur and Orville weren’t the only Wright Brothers

THEY WERE “PKs,” meaning “preacher’s kids,” a difficult role for nearly every child put in its unwanted spotlight. Beyond that, theirs does appear to be a tight-laced family, even with its strong strain of moral and social progress. We can even wonder what the brothers’ diagnosis would have been today; there are speculations of “somewhere on the spectrum.”
Still, they did put humans into the air and, more importantly, brought them down safely.
We’ll put their technological breakthroughs aside today and instead focus on the more personal surroundings of Wilbur (1867-1912) and Orville (1871-1948), sons of Bishop Milton Wright and Susan Catherine Koerner Wright.
Like me, they were both born in Dayton, Ohio, and we were members of a congregation their father had founded. (He also founded a seminary.)
And, gee, a photo of the house they grew up in looks almost identical to my grandparents’.
Here are ten more interesting points gleaned from the Web:
- Neither one graduated from high school. They were, however, friends of classmate Paul Laurence Dunbar, the school’s only Black student, now an acclaimed poet, and in time, at their print shop, they published a newspaper he created. Yes, they were printers and bicycle manufacturers before they built airplanes.
- They learned many of their mechanical skills from their mother, who had attended Hartville College, a small United Brethren school in Indiana, at a time when few women were permitted such an opportunity. Her focus, tellingly, was literature, science, and mathematics. In 1853, she met the future bishop. He had joined the church in 1846 because of its stand on political and moral issues including alcohol, the abolition of slavery, and opposition to “secret societies” such as Freemasonry, values she shared. Working together as his ministry developed, they brought their boys to 12 different homes across Indiana and Iowa before returning permanently to Dayton in 1884.
- A year or so later, while playing an ice-skating game with friends Wilbur was struck in the face with a hockey stick by Oliver Crook Haugh, whose other claim to fame would be as a serial killer. Wilbur lost his front teeth. Up until then, he had been vigorous and athletic, but the emotional impact left him socially withdrawn, and rather than attending Yale as planned, he spent the next few years largely housebound, indulging in the family’s extensive library and caring for his mother, who was terminally ill with tuberculosis.
- More befitting a PK, in elementary school Orville was prone to mischief, including practical jokes, and even expelled once.
- They weren’t the only Wright brothers. Reuchlin (1861-1920) was their oldest sibling. Born in a log cabin in Indiana, he grew into a restless young man, failed college twice, then moved to Kansas City in 1889, distancing himself from his family. He worked in Kansas City as a bookkeeper until 1901, then moved on to a Kansas farm with his wife and children to raise cattle. Though he built a good life for his family there, he remained estranged from the rest of his family in Dayton.
- Lorin (1862-1939) spent time on the Kansas frontier before attending Hartville College in 1882 and returning to Dayton, where he had difficulty making a living. So he left for Kansas City in 1886 (before his elder brother), struggled, briefly, returned to Dayton, and then headed west again, where he scraped out a living on the Kansas frontier for two years before returning home in 1889, lonely and homesick. He worked as a bookkeeper for a carpet store in Dayton and married his childhood sweetheart, Ivonette Stokes, in 1892; they had four children as he settled down to a quiet life. In 1893, he worked for Wilbur and Orville in their print shop, and in 1900 helped sister Katharine manage the Wright Cycle company while their brothers were in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. He visited Wilbur and Orville at Kitty Hawk in 1902, notified the press in 1903 after their first powered flights, and lent them his barn to build the machine that eventually became the first United States military aircraft. In 1911, he helped test the first airplane autopilot and in 1915, spied on Glenn Curtiss to gather information for the Wright patent suit against the rival airplane manufacturer. After Orville sold the Wright Company, Lorin bought an interest in Miami Wood Specialties, the company manufactured a toy that Orville designed. He also was elected a city commissioner in Dayton.
- Twins Otis and Ida (1870) died in infancy. He, of jaundice; she, five days later, of marasmus – malnutrition.
- Their youngest sibling, Katharine (1874-1929), could be the subject of a Tendril all her own. She was only 15 years old when her mother died of tuberculosis in 1889. As the only female child, it was taken for granted that she would assume her mother’s role—which she did – caring for the family and managing the household. She was especially close to Wilbur and Orville, and when her mother died it became her responsibility to take over the household, seemingly ending any prospects of marriage. Yet she also graduated from Oberlin, at the other corner of the state, in 1898, the only Wright child to complete college. She then became a highly respected teacher at Dayton’s Steele High School. After Orville’s injury in a 1908 test flight for the military at Fort Myer, Virginia, she took a leave of absence from her teaching job to nurse him back to health and never returned to teaching. Instead, she became a central figure in her brothers’ aviation enterprises. In 1909, the French awarded her, along with Wilbur and Orville, the Legion d’Honneur, making her one of the only women from the U.S. to receive one. After Wilbur’s death in 1912, Orville became more and more dependent on Kate, as his old injuries had him in severe pain. She looked after his correspondence and business engagements along with his secretary, Mabel Beck, and ran the household as before. In the 1920s, Kate began to renew correspondence with an old flame from her college days, a newspaperman named Henry Haskell, who lived in Kansas City. (What is it with Kansas City for this family?) They quickly began a romance through their letters, but she feared Orville would become jealous. After several attempts, Henry broke the news to Orville, who was devastated and refused to speak to the couple. When they finally wed in 1926, Orville refused to attend the ceremony, and wouldn’t speak to them up until they moved to Kansas City. She was ridden with guilt for choosing Henry over her brother, and tried many times for a reconciliation, but Orville stubbornly refused. Two years after her marriage, Katharine contracted pneumonia. Even when Orville found out, he refused to contact her. It was their brother Lorin who eventually persuaded him to visit her on her deathbed, and was with her when she died. She was 54.
- None of the Wright children had middle names. Wilbur and Orville were “Will” and “Orv” to their friends, and “Ullam” and “Bubs” to each other.
- The parents and siblings, minus Reuch, are buried at Woodland cemetery in Dayton.
For a broader view, let me suggest The Bishop’s Boys: A Life of Wilbur and Orville Wright by Tom Crouch.
The United Brethren denomination also figures prominently in my posts at Orphan George.
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sip, sip and then it’s gone
Van Wept Ohio
Carpooling
Bob Stratton tells of driving home from work in Lordstown when a thunderstorm rolled up:
“One of the fellas in the car said, ‘Hey, the car behind us is sure coming comin’ up fast with its brights on.’
“It was no car. It was rolling lightnin’ that hit us.”
They drove on to a diner. “I smell something singed,” the waitress said.
“If that’s all it is, we’re lucky,” they laughed, and then told her what had happened.
Several weeks later, stopping there during another storm, the waitress was now telling them their story.
“You must not recognize us,” they laughed. “We’re the fellas it happened to.”
Inside Charles F. Kettering’s mind
The prolific inventor, entrepreneur, and civic influence Charles F. Kettering was still alive in the Dayton community when I was an aspiring chemist in my youth.
My career in science never materialized, but his influence as an inspired ideal of leadership remains.
You may recognize the name from the famed Sloan-Kettering cancer research hospital in Manhattan or from the city in southwest Ohio named in his honor. He also led the research teams that invented the electric cash register, the automobile electrical self-starter, and no-knock gasoline. Other work made the diesel engine practicable as well as the refrigerator and, in time, air conditioning. In all, he had 186 patents, second to fellow Ohioan Thomas Edison. He was a founder of Delco (Dayton Electrical Laboratory Company) and from 1920 to 1947 was head of research for General Motors.
As a power in the new General Motors corporation, he aligned with management pioneer Alfred Sloan – as in that Sloan-Kettering Hospital in Manhattan,.
Let me repeat, there’s even a city named in his honor.
Today we have another Double Tendrils.
Get ready to know him better. Let’s start with his perspectives on the creative process and problem-solving, especially as they apply to engineering and invention. Here’s what he said:
- If you want to kill any idea in the world, get a committee working on it.
- I don’t want men of experience working for me. The experienced man is always telling me why something can’t be done. The fellow who has not had any experience is so dumb he doesn’t know a thing can’t be done – and he goes ahead and does it. … The person who doesn’t know something can’t be done will often find a way to go ahead and do it.
- Every great improvement has come after repeated failures. Virtually nothing comes out right the first time. Failures, repeated failures, are finger posts on the road to achievement. One fails forward toward success. … 99 percent of success is built on failure.
- An inventor fails 999 times, and if he succeeds once, he’s in. He treats his failures simply as practice shots.
- Inventing is a combination of brains and materials. The more brains you use, the less material you need. … A problem well stated is a problem half-solved.
- All human development, no matter what form it takes, must be outside the rules; otherwise, we would never have anything new.
- A problem thoroughly understood is always fairly simple. Found your opinions on facts, not prejudices. We know too many things that are not true.
- Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out.
- We work day after day, not to finish things; but to make the future better … because we will spend the rest of our lives there.
- If I want to stop a research program, I can always do it by getting a few experts to sit in on the subject, because they know right away that it was a fool thing to try in the first place.
- When I was research head of General Motors and wanted a problem solved, I’d place a table outside the meeting room with a sign: “Leave slide rules here.” If I didn’t do that, I’d find someone reaching for his slide rule. Then he’d be on his feet saying, “Boss, you can’t do it.”
And now for his perspective on life itself.
- There is a great difference between knowing a thing and understanding it. You can know a lot and not really understand anything.
- The world hates change, yet it is the only thing that has brought progress.
- If you’re doing something the same way you have been doing it for ten years, the chances are you are doing it wrong.
- Where there is an open mind, there will always be a frontier.
- My definition of an educated man is the fellow who knows the right thing to do at the time it has to be done. You can be sincere and still be stupid.
- If I have had any success, it’s due to luck, but I notice the harder I work, the luckier I get.
- The whole fun of living is trying to make something better.
- No one would have crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off the ship in the storm.
- You can’t have a better tomorrow if you are thinking about yesterday all the time.
- Every father should remember one day his son will follow his example, not his advice.
He really was one who made America great.
Kinisi 271
I remember when he had a Willy’s Jeep
cool, like a square dance