977.351
B57p
BLAIR
PICTURES OF THE PAST; MEM
ORIES OF OLD TOULON
JRCSRORICS
^m_^^^^^^^_^^^^^_
^^M ^^WBB HBI ^^1^^ ^VMBB iHh ^^ iHKJMBi
PRESENTED TO THE OLD SETTLERS
or STARK COUNTY
MRS. H. M. BLAIR
RS. HARRIET ML BLAIR
Wrote these reminiscences at various
times when occasion or incident called
them forth. Fearful of criticism from
those to whom they will mean nothing,
the author has with reluctance consented
to their preservation in this little book,
hoping they may recall faces and scenes
that are gone.
For some readers they will make bright
again the light of the waning lamp
of memory.
1-
4
'Memory is the only friend
That grief can call her own. ' '
PIONEER REMINISCENCES
HE stories which beguiled the happy home of
my childhood often began with, "Once upon a
time," so I will say once upon a time over sixty
years ago I looked upon this land of promise
fair Illinois! The pioneers were men and
women in their prime; the old were too deeply
rooted in their native soil to bear transplanting.
The impulse of adventure led these intrepid set-
tlers onward and westward. Poverty and priva-
tions only added stimulus to effort. Vast possi-
bilities loomed up in all directions. The homes
were rude cabins; native vines clung to the rough
logs with the tenacity of a pioneer friendship.
The smallest amount of furniture possible satisfied the occupants of these
cabin homes. A few wooden pegs in one corner, concealed by a curtain,
held the family wardrobe and furnished the ladies a boudoir. The side-
boards differed from those now in use in many ways. An unplaned
board, resting on three huge pegs constituted the cabin sideboard. No
mirror reflected happy children's faces as they looked longlingly upon the
heir loom pieces of crockery that adorned this rude shelf. Sometimes a
short curtain was attached to this sideboard and hid many of the house-
keeping utensils. No polished drawers, well filled with costly linens, were
there, and the pioneer mother spread the simple meal on a table none too
smooth, but the family had pioneer appetites and the wild game and the
products of the home garden furnished ample food, which was well sea-
soned with good cheer.
While the children were busy and happy with the birds and flowers,
their parents were busy solving the problem, "Will the promises this
country gave of future greatness ever be realized, were her beckonings
honest ones?" Where our busiest streets are today, pioneer feet trampled
the wild roses. Here the nighthawk flew downward to the earth, uttering
her impassioned notes and made her nest on the prairie sod.
How these reminiscences guide us into paths leading up to the
pioneer's heart voices come back to us over the grave of years. We
are young again; we feel the touch of a mother's hand.
The dying leaf, gorgeous in autumn tints, did not whisper to the
young of decay; the blighting frosts of winter brought to them visions of
coasting on the hillside, of happy sleighing parties in the old-fashioned
bob-sled, when it took so little to keep them warm. After the eye has
grown dim and the step faltering, we can turn on the lights of memory
and wander back over these old days. We pity those who have not at
some period of their lives been pioneers. Those who have never passed
through frontier experiences are poorly fitted to enjoy modern homes, or
modern luxuries.
The generous hospitality found in these cabin homes has faded out
of life; it has given place to social tyrannies, and after all the kindly im-
pulses of the human heart are worth more than human skill or human
intellect. No other day in the calendar of holidays brings such pleasure
to the pioneer as Old Settlers' Day. The remnant that remains in Stark
County gather with their descendants and make this a reminiscent day.
With many it is Hail! and Farewell. Ah, Time; thou rogue!
"How few are left to greet me, how few are left to know,
Who played with me upon the green but sixty years ago."
MRS. MILES A. FULLER
MRS. MARTHA PIERCE
MRS. A. M. LEGG
MRS. SARAH PROUT
PIONEER SCHOOLS AND PIONEER TEACHERS
_S?\
HE first school taught in the town of Toulon
was taught by John W. Henderson, in the John
Pryor cabin, that stood where the Congregational
parsonage now stands. This school commenced
in the winter of 1 842. It was not a graded
school; scholars of all ages were admitted. The
scholarship of the applicants was never ques-
tioned. Reading, writing, geography, grammar,
arithmetic and spelling were taught. Through
the mists of fifty years I can see the rosy-faced
boys and girls standing by the huge fireplace,
which gave out such generous heat after the
enormous logs had lain upon their ruddy bank
from hours early in the morning, and sent up such a glow of welcome, as
these scholars came trooping in after a walk through the snow. One
would suppose that a mile walk through the snow would serve to tame
these boys, but not so. The ice was hardly melted from their faces until
they were ready for fun, and the teacher tried in vain to subdue the
general merriment caused by their pranks. "Special pleadings" had no
effect, threatenings were of no avail, and sometimes the scholars intimated
to the teacher that if he insisted upon such rigid discipline, they would
set him outside the cabin and take in the latch string and compel him to
plead for mercy. Mr. Henderson thought at such times that he had
mistaken his calling, and this was the first and last school he taught.
A row of benches was set around the sides of the cabin on which sat
the large scholars; in the center sat the "little tots," who set the children
of larger growth an example of good behavior. Carry me back, Mem-
ory, over these vanished years! I would not forget one form that sat on
the rude benches. One of the pioneer customs was to close the school
in the evening with a general spelling class. This was royal fun for those
who "went up" with every word they spelled. At one time the entire
school had violated some rule and the teacher announced that he would
punish them at the close of the school. He commenced at the head of the
spelling class and rapped the hand of each offender several times with a
ruler. He kept on administering the same chastisement until he reached
the foot of the class; no one was exempt, as all had been engaged in
perpetrating the joke.
The teacher of the pioneer school was a resident of Toulon for many
years; held offices of trust and was one of the best county officers Stark
county ever had. Mr. Henderson now lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa,
surrounded by all the luxury wealth can bring into any home. He is
nearly eighty years of age, and he has lived to verify the promise: "In the
evening it shall be light." This veteran wears the regimentals of the
Democratic party, and it is said he keeps the armor exceedingly bright.
In this, the second chapter of my school history, I shall deal with the
Drummond school, which for crude methods eclipsed all others, and surely
no other teacher known to the writer had such a varied career as had the
subject of this sketch. In the summer of 1 843, W. W. Drummond built
a small frame house on the corner lot where Mrs. Minot Silliman's home
now stands. This house contained three rooms. It was built in the
cheapest way possible. It faced the north, and the main room in the
house was used for a schoolroom by day, a sitting room during the
evening, a sleeping room at night. This school was a "select" school and
Mr. Drummond charged one dollar a month per capita, with high tragedy
and low comedy thrown in. This room was warmed by a fireplace over
which was a rough mantel-piece, upon which lay a well-worn copy of
"The Statutes of Illinois," for be it known W. W. Drummond was
already an aspirant for judicial honors, and later became one of the lead-
ing lawyers of the county, notwithstanding his scholarship was very im-
perfect; in grammar especially so. As I said, the schoolroom was used
for a sleeping room, and if the scholars were so unfortunate as to arrive
before the camping ground was cleared, he called to his wife, or rather
slave, in tones that did not indicate a very serene temper, to clear the
room of all the trappings not usually found in a schoolroom.
Mr. Drummond had a strange fancy for great names, his eldest daugh-
ter bore the beautiful name of "America Virginia;" the second daughter
10
was "Austria Vienna;" the third was "Artemesia Victorine;" the son
was "Americus Vespucci;" the infant in the cradle was "Alwilda
Viola." In thunder tones he would call to America Virginia to go and
look after Alwilda Viola and tell Austria Vienna to go and play with
Americus Vespucci. I mention these names as no play is complete with-
out the names of the actors.
But to return to the school proper. Mr. Drummond was in the
habit of setting the older scholars to work and it was nothing unusual for
two or three different groups of small children to be reading or reciting
to as many different teachers, and you may readily imagine the confusion,
and in the mean while the remainder of the school were trying to rivet their
attention upon their books, and Mr. Drummond having slipped his law
book from the mantel, with his back to the school, was trying to digest a
page of legal lore.
What would the young people of today think of these environments?
Yet it can be said with truth that many thought these pioneer scholars
better equipped for the battle of life than those who came here later from
the schools of New England to educate and civilize our western boys and
girls.
After several years of successful practice in his profession, Mr. Drum-
mond went to Washington, D. C., and later was appointed United
States Judge of Utah, but this man of rare natural ability, of fine personal
appearance and fine presence, was wholly destitute of moral principle, and
he lost this fine position through dishonest and immoral practices and
finally died in a saloon in Chicago. He had long since forsaken the wife
of his youth, who had shared all the struggles of his early life, and he was
recreant to every sacred trust. A saloon was a fitting place for such a
career to come to a close.
Soon after the completion of our first Court House, Miss Susan Gill
taught a select school in one of the jury rooms. Miss Gill had just arrived
in our town from Newark, N. J., and she introduced many methods which
were new to our pioneer teachers. Some are still here who remember that
it was in this school that they made their first elocutionary effort. The
Friday afternoon "Rhetoricals" were held in the Court Room, giving the
11
Of
.ssas.
parents and friends of the scholars an opportunity to judge of the advance-
ment made from week to week. The first burst of eloquence came from
the lips of many an aspirant for oratorical distinction during those days.
Miss Gill was a natural teacher, and soon found her way into the hearts
of her scholars. She had the best of government, yet was always kind.
After she closed her school she became the happy wife of Stephen W.
Eastman, but only a few years more of life were given to her, and she
died, regretted by all who knew her. As I stood by the lonely grave of
this faithful teacher my heart vowed allegiance to her memory, and heaven
seemed nearer after she "passed within the gates."
The brick schoolhouse which occupied the ground where the resi-
dence of Pierson Miller was afterwards built, was completed in the spring
of 1 847. This was a district school, and Thomas J. Henderson was the
first teacher. The building was roomy and comfortable and every
available seat was occupied. T. J. Henderson's popularity among the
young people of our town, who largely composed his school, was already
established it was deep-rooted and, as a rule, the scholars had too
much regard for their teacher to disobey him; hence this was an orderly
school. In addition to the usual studies taught in our schools of that
day was added Modern and Ancient History. The latter was used by
the reading class instead of "The English Reader" used in the first
schools. Being placed at the head of this school was T. J. Henderson's
first promotion, and he has been on the top grade ever since. I do not
know that he learned any military tactics here, as this school was far too
peaceable to ever hint of war; political intrigues were an unknown
quantity in these primitive days, yet somehow his greatness was first
developed here, and after four years of war and twenty years in Congress,
I feel sure he looks back with pleasure to those days when life with its
vast possibilities lay before him, without even the memory of a sorrow.
After T. J. Henderson closed his school David Risdon, of Lafayette,
taught here for several years and finally went to Oregon to "grow up
with the country." His successor was James B. Lewis. Mr. Lewis
ranked high as a teacher, and his character was irreproachable, but he
died before he had completed his last term, and Oliver White, now of
12
Peoria, was employed as a teacher, with Miss Almira Hubbard, now
the wife of H. M. Hall, of Lincoln, Kansas, as his assistant. I dare not
say much about Mr. White for fear he might recognize my "Norn de
plume" and get after me with his sharp pen and lacerate my feelings.
Suffice it to say that during his administration the school lost none of its
former popularity.
Last, but not least, in this galaxy of competent and successful teachers
who taught in "the Brick" was Charles Meyers, now of Peoria. May his
shadow never grow less.
Miss Selina Booth was a pioneer teacher who deserves more than a
passing notice, not alone for her excellent qualities of mind and character,
but for the length of time she was identified with the educational interests
of our town. The exact date of her coming is not clear in my mind, yet
it was as early as 1 849.
On the brow of the hill of West Main street stood the home of Royal
Arnold. In this unpretentious dwelling, Miss Booth commenced her
successful career as a teacher in the Toulon schools. The little remnant
remaining of those who occupied a seat in this schoolroom still takes
pleasure in testifying to her sterling worth. Her virtues stand out clearer
as other memories grow dim. All the characteristics essential to the mak-
ing of a good teacher seemed centered in Miss Booth. During the
months that this school was doing such good work despite the unfavorable
surroundings, the people of our town were discussing the possibility and
advisability of building a Seminary. This conclusion culminated in the
erection of a two-story brick building, which at that time was considered
a fine structure, and it was a proud day for all concerned when Miss
Booth, with her army of scholars, took possession of the Toulon Seminary.
This building is now used as a carriage shop Clay Bradley owning the
property yet I am told that many autographs are still to be seen on the
old walls and are silent reminders of many scholars whose school work
was left unfinished.
Today, as I write the name of this good woman, thoughts of those
days come to me like the notes of a half-forgotten song, and I find myself
listening for other voices that mingled with hers in the good old days when
13
it took so little to make the heart glad. After Miss Booth resigned her
position in Toulon, she married Mr. Newell, of Farmington, 111., and that
is still her home.
Successors to Miss Booth's honors were Mr. and Mrs. N. F. Atkins.
This worthy pair came here direct from New England, and it was evident
at a glance that the very process that had fitted them to fill an exalted
position in the world of letters had unfitted them for the common duties
of life, and their helplessness outside of the schoolroom was really pathetic.
Mr. and Mrs. Atkins had spent the best years of their lives in hard study;
they had mastered the classics, the higher mathematics and the sciences,
yet consummate as were their abilities, unselfish their purposes, failure was
written on all they did. They looked as if they had been fed on the dead
languages and "The Blue Laws." Two sons blessed their union, and
they gave promise of growing up full of western vim. Their antics
astonished their mother, who with all her knowledge, failed to solve these
strange problems by any known process of philosophy, mathematics or
astronomy, yet she did discover later that they were not "stars." Mr. and
Mrs. Atkins had many warm friends who aided them in their misfortunes,
and after Mr. Atkins was obliged to abandon teaching on account of ill-
health, they gave him repeated evidence of their sympathy and esteem.
But disease did its cruel work and Mr. Atkins, the ripe scholar, the faith-
ful teacher and Christian gentleman, was laid to rest. Mrs. Atkins
returned to her .New England home and left an unmarked grave in our
cemetery, and years after, the friends and scholars of these worthy people
erected a monument to the memory of this pioneer teacher.
14
DR. THOMAS HALL
MARTIN SHALLENBERGER
MINOTT SILLIMAN
MRS. C. K. STICK.NEY
THE LAST SUPPER
HOSE who knew Oliver Whitaker as early as
1 838 will recall a pioneer cabin set down by a
native grove, where the grand old oaks gave
shade for the happy children and shelter to the
birds which furnished music to this music-loving
family. The bright wood fire in the spacious
fire-place and the happy faces made sunlight on
the walls. A few rude flower beds bordered the
path leading up to the cabin door; these were
made by the busy hands of a loving mother, and
the evening-beauties and the holly-hocks that
bloomed there were the admiration of the chil-
dren of the pioneers, and no exotic in our day
can be prized as were these flowers. In the summer of 1 843 this home
was exchanged for one in Toulon where the friends of today have known
and honored the deceased here has been buried many an expectation;
here many a joy has perished in his grasp, yet he was brave and uncom-
plaining, no adverse fate or warring destiny could rob him of these traits.
Seldom has a home been established in the west which furnished more
generous hospitality and friendly cheer than did the Whitaker home.
Here the poor and unfortunate always found a friend, the sorrowing
sympathy. The recipients of these favors were never questioned. "If
hungry, he gave him food; if thirsty, he gave him drink; if sick he visited
him" he squared his life by the Golden Rule and emphasized it by
example.
No one who was present at the last supper at this old home will
forget the pathetic words spoken by the host. Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker
were about to leave for California, the home was sold and the historic
belongings of the interior had been advertised for sale, when Mrs.
Whitaker conceived the plan of having a farewell feast Mrs. Blood was
here to assist her mother in carrying out the plans.
After the guests were seated at the table Mr. Whitaker turned to
17
The Old Whitaker Homestead in 1878
Hon. M. A. Fuller and said, "Miles, this is the last supper, will you ask
the blessing?" Mr. Fuller's voice trembled with emotion as he asked the
Giver of all good gifts to be with this little company of friends gathered
at this hospitable board for the last time. Mr. Turner, who was now
very near the line that divides night from morning, was present and it was
his last visit.
The Old Settlers will remember their venerable President as he pre-
sided last year his daughter, Mrs. E. H. Phelps, of Kansas City, sat by
his side. He said to a friend who congratulated him upon the occasion:
"No one can tell how much stronger I felt after my dear girl came," and
as I looked at them I was reminded of the beautiful lines of Scott:
18
"Come forth, old man! A daughter's side
Is now a fitting place for thee.
When time has quelled the oak's bold pride,
The youthful tendril yet may hide
The rum of the parent tree."
Mr. Whitaker was a kind, unselfish father, and if at any time he
seemed severe in his discipline it was the outcome of a sincere desire for
the good of his children he had old-fashioned ideas of parental govern-
ment. During his last year it became difficult for him to write, yet his
children have abundant evidence of his untiring devotion to them in the
carefully written letters penned after his failing sight rendered this service
of love almost impossible. I often found him thus employed as I entered
his office in the morning, which was the only time he was capable of any
exertion; his afternoons were given mostly to sleep. He often alluded to
his bodily weakness and would add: "But I cannot afford to disappoint
the children, and they will be looking for a letter." When his feeble
arms would no longer draw them to his breast upon which they had leaned
so long, he wrapped them in the softer folds of his love and fell asleep.
The sun of his life went down but the star of his example lives, and they
are dull scholars indeed who learn nothing from a long life well lived.
On that cold autumn morning when he came to say goodbye before
leaving for Florida I well knew I should hear the sound of his familiar
voice no more, and hard was it to conceal the fact from him. And he,
too, felt keen sorrow at parting with old friends, yet he longed for the
balmy air of that kindly clime where the perfume of flowers makes "De-
cember as pleasant as May." After a few months the tamed lightning
conveyed the sad message that he who had so lately been with us was
gone. The worn-out body called for rest, the shattered mind for repose,
and all that was needed came.
"We will not say, we cannot say
That he is dead he is just away."
He entered the dark valley in the faith that there is light beyond, and
when the bright lustre of an active life is dimmed by age we can find
19
solace in the thought that there is found the youth of immortality. It has
been said that "the record of a life is its best eulogy" that the memory
of a good man is its most lasting epitaph. All that is mortal of this dear
friend lies in our beautiful cemetery, adjoining the village where he lived
so long, and near by the people he knew and loved so well. Loving hands
will strew flowers over his grave. These will fade and wither, but the
memory of his kind deeds will live.
The morning sun that lifts its head above the eastern hills in dazzling
beauty, lacks the grandeur of the setting sun that sinks to rest behind the
evening clouds. Eighty-nine years ago today Oliver Whitaker was born
and I lay this imperfect tribute as a memorial wreath upon these vanished
years.
20
OLIVER WH1TAKER
MRS. CATHERINE WHITAKER
DR. WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN
MRS. DR. CHAMBERLAIN
THE TOULON BAPTIST CHURCH
S the new Baptist church nears completion and
the expectant members of that organization are
impatiently waiting to occupy the new edifice,
my mind has been busy with the past, and the
editor of the News has asked me to write some
reminiscence for the columns of his paper. Feel-
ing sure that there are many still living who feel
an interest in those who constituted the member-
ship and congregation forty years ago, I have
concluded to give a pen picture of the church
as it appeared to me at that time. Elder Brin-
kerhoff of New Jersey had been chosen pastor,
and stood on tiptoe behind an enormous pulpit,
trying to see the congregation, and the congregation were equally anxious
to see the preacher, yet all that was visible to the naked eye was his
towering intellect.
After reading the twenty-first chapter of St. John, he took for his
text the last part of the seventeenth verse: "Jesus saith unto him, feed my
sheep." No carpet was to be seen save a narrow strip behind the pulpit
for the preacher to stand upon, to drown the sound of his feet for some
ministers will preach with their feet. The aisles were about four inches
lower than the pews. The latter had small doors, and these doors were
fastened by some sort of a fixture needing an expert to open them, and it
was nothing unusual to see people from the rural districts, not familiar with
the city airs, standing amazed at this strange combination, and finally
striding over the door and seating themselves in the pew; but later the
janitor was instructed to open all these doors before the service began, and
thus obviate this difficulty. At a still later date the doors were removed
and the aisles were raised to a level with the pews, doing away with the
obstruction, so that the custom of coming into the pews on "all fours"
became obsolete. For several years after Elder Brinkerhoff returned to
his native state the ministers seemed to be selected with reference to the
height of the pulpit, and we had a series of long, lean men.
23
At the time of which I write, the Baptist bell was the only church
bell in our town, and the first Sabbath it called the worshipers together
was quite an event in the history of the people. It was not a bell such
as we hear in the cathedrals. It was not silver-tongued, but its tones
were always sweet to those who gathered at its call in the old brick church,
and, as it lay silent amid the debris after the church was in ashes, I looked
upon it with feelings of tender regret, much as I look upon an old
friend whose voice is hushed forever. This bell has been called "a cracked
bell," "a nuisance." Perhaps these epithets were deserved, but do we
speak thus of a friend after the sweet mellow voice of youth gives way to
the harsh and broken voice of age? This bell will never disturb us any
more. It has tolled its last requiem for the dead. It has said "Come"
to the old church for the last time. The choir occupied the gallery on
the north end of the church. Judson Brinkerhoff was the organist and
James A. Henderson played an accompaniment on the violin. The
singers were Amos P. Gill, Jerome B. Thomas, Mr. Carpenter, Henry
Greenwood, Hugh Y. Godfry, Miss Ruth A. Meyers, Miss Mary
Whittaker, Miss Mary J. Harris and Miss Abby Gardener. Messrs.
Carpenter and Greenwood were transient residents of our town both fine
musicians. They were civil engineers and were engaged in surveying the
"Air line railroad." A few years later Mr. Carpenter took a sea voyage
for the benefit of his health, and died at sea. Mr. Greenwood was
murdered in New Mexico, Amos P. Gill long since passed from sight,
yet the rich tones of his bass are remembered by many still living here.
Ten years ago James A. Henderson passed to the "summer land" within
sound of the old church bell. Jerome B. Thomas is a resident of Dayton,
Ohio. Hugh Y. Godfry lives at Lake Geneva, and still gladdens the
hearts of his Toulon friends by an occasional visit, but he is such a good
Baptist that nothing less than a lake can satisfy his craving for water.
Miss Ruth A. Meyers, now Mrs. Turner, is an honored member of Tou-
lon society, but sings the songs of Zion in the M. E. church. Miss
Mary Whittaker married E. H. Phelps, now of Kansas City. Miss
Abby Gardener married Dr. Kitchen of Rockford, 111. Miss Harris
moved from here many years ago and her whereabouts are unknown to the
24
writer. The officers of the church were Benj. Packer, Stephen Eastman,
Robert Robb, Luther Geer, deacons; Oliver Gardener, church clerk;
Jacob Wagner, janitor. Jacob Wagner and his good wife Gertrude kept
the lamps trimmed and burning. All the officers above mentioned are
sleeping the sleep of the just in our cemetery, excepting Deacon Packer,
who is still with us, and is still busy with the interests of the church of his
choice. Age cannot abate his zeal or cool his ardor. His devotion to
the Master's work is surely worthy of commendation. This church has
passed through some fierce conflicts, but those who have never been in
battle know little about wearing the armor. As devout worshipers
gathered there as ever knelt at a shrine. At this time the membership
numbered about seventy, the congregation twice that number.
One custom of these early days of which I must speak, was that of
the congregation rising and turning around in the pews so as to face the
choir, which, as I said before, occupied the gallery. Perhaps this fact
could be accomplished with far less embarrassment now than in those days
when it was the fashion for the ladies to wear exceedingly large hoops, so
large that if by chance more than two ladies were seated in one pew, the
matter of facing about was accomplished with much difficulty and serious
results were liable to follow. These tragic movements had to be enacted
three times during each service, and those seated near the gallery were
obliged to stretch their necks like cranes to get a glimpse of the choir.
At no time in the history of this church has the choir enjoyed such a
reputation for first-class music as in those early days of its existence, the
credit of which in great measure may be accorded to Mrs. Dr. Chamber-
lain, who was at that time a devout member of this church, and it was
by her personal effort that the best musical talent of the town was secured.
All that remains here today of those constituting the membership of
the church forty years ago are Benjamin Packer and wife, John Berfield
and wife, Mrs. Cynthia Stickney, Mrs. Stephen Eastman, Mrs. Luther
Geer, Mrs. Miles A. Fuller, Mrs. Emily Culbertson and Mrs. P. M.
Blair.
"Old things have passed away, and behold all things have become
25
Q
AN OLD HOUSE GONE
Written upon seeing "The Old Home" torn down, Feb. 22, 1 898.
HIS week witnessed the demolition of one of the
old landmarks of Toulon, being none other than
the old homstead of Dr. Thomas Hall. The
house was built in 1 848 by Dr. Hall and stood
near the present home of Dr. W. T. Hall, on
South Franklin street, being moved to another
part of the lot upon the building of the latter.
It was a very fine building for those days and
was much admired by the pioneers and by
travellers who chanced to pass. One noticeable
feature was the long windows, reaching to the
floor, something never before seen in this part of
the country. The contractor who built the house
was Charles Johnson. He was assisted by Mr. Wilbur of Lafayette and
Luther Geer did the mason work.
Office of Dr. Thomas Hall, built in 1847.
27
Homes, like individuals, grow old and cease to be either useful or
ornamental, yet it is a pathetic sight to see them demolished. That a home
once full of life and gayety can become a heap of debris is food for mem-
ory and for tears. As a broken harp, which can never again respond to
the touch of a gentle hand, although silent, reminds us of melodies which
once wafted us into realms of enchantment, so in the ruins of an old home
we read stories of a past too sacred to be written, memories too precious
to be forgotten. Here loved ones have been dressed for the bridal and the
tomb. Here were heard the last words of a mother.
The designer and builder of this home is gone and the last vestige of
his work obliterated. The windows through which glad faces looked out
upon what was to them a world of brightness have served their purpose.
The floors will never again resound to the nimble tread of youth, or the
faltering steps of age. The old home with its cherished memories is gone
gone with its cherished plans rounded to completion gone with its
festivities and its mirth. Old home, goodbye.
28
THE OLD SEMINARY
-SS
HE building known as "The Toulon Seminary"
was built over fifty years ago. Buildings in those
days were not reared with the dispatch they are
now and when it was completed after months
of continued work, the scholars were delighted as
they took possession of the new Seminary and
were assigned comfortable seats, with desks, and
were given ample light and warmth, of which
they had such a scant supply in the crowded
rooms just vacated. If the reader will go with
me in imagination into the High School, we will
see what we can find. Mr. Atkins, who is the
principal, has charge of this room, and after a
hard day's work has stepped down into the lower room to see how Mrs.
Atkins is getting on in her department. The janitor, Jacob Wagner, is
busy putting the room in order for the next day, so we will take this
opportunity to look about. First, we will go to the little table that stands
at one end of the room, on which we find several books. There are
marginal notes in some of them, showing that the teacher's opinion is not
altogether in harmony with the author's. Colburn's Intellectual and
Adams' Written Arithmetic, Butler's Grammar and Mitchell's Geography
are on this table; first, second and third Eclectic Readers are here; Web-
ster's Spelling-book with the words so nicely divided into syllables is here.
A Bible or Testament is on every desk; we open one of these and on the
first page we find the name of Benjamin Williams this name was long
since cut in marble. We pass on to the next desk and here we find the
name of Henry Perry written in bold characters in Butler's Grammar,
and just below we read this warning to evil doers: "Steal not this book,
for fear of shame, for in it stands the owner's name." On another desk
the books record the fact that they are the property of Nathaniel Wright,
others on the same desk belong to William W. Wright (now county judge
of Stark county). Only a little in advance of this, we find the books
29
belonging to Wright Dewey, whose name is now inscribed on a marble
shaft in our "Silent City," and engrossed in the hearts of all who knew
him. But we must pass on without stopping at each desk, and we will
return to the little table we just left and search for the roll. And here it
is. Oh, these names!
Elizabeth Perry, Mary Whitaker, Levi Silliman,
Emily Perry, Delphene Whitaker, Edward Silliman,
Sarah Turner, Walter T. Hall, Addie Fuller,
Laura Ogle, Andrew Whitaker, Willis Dewey,
Ellen Buswell, Harriet Dewey, Martha Atherton,
Emma Hall, Rebecca Dewey, George Lowman,
John Ogle, Jane Hall, Alice Lowman,
Sarah Eastman, Janette Scott, Wright Dewey,
Isabella Pierce, Diantha Shinn, Nathaniel Wright,
John Stickney, Emily Shinn, W. W. Wright,
Sarah Berfield, Hattie Phelps, Ellen Lyle,
Louisa Hall, Charley .Eastman, Mary Lyle,
Jerome Thomas, Benjamin Williams, Caroline Brace,
Mary Thomas, Eliza Stickney, Mary Brace,
Ruth Thomas, Harlan Pierce, Charley Brace,
Henry Hall, Will Hazen, Lizzie McBride,
Julius Rhodes, Olive Bennett, Samuel Lowman,
Henry Perry, Rebecca Pollock, Annie Brace,
Mattie Cox, Mary Cox, John Perry.
Isaac Whitaker, Sarah Cox,
But the janitor is waiting to turn the key in the door, and we must
lay down the roll and leave many names unread, and we will descend the
stairs and enter the lower room, where Mrs. Atkins presides with so much
dignity. Here are the copy-books with the copies written for the next day.
Mrs. Atkins has written these after the restless scholars have gone to their
homes or to their sports. Let us see what she has written: ' Tis educa-
tion forms the common minds, Just as the twig is bent the tree inclines."
Another, "Truth crushed to earth will rise again," and one of the little
tots will write, "Many men of many minds, many birds of many kinds."
The blackboard is full of crude figures where the primary classes have been
working in multiplication, addition and division. Every desk in this
room shows that it has been occupied during the day. Broken pocket-
knives, kite strings and forgotten dinner pails adorn the desks. But the
form of the janitor admonishes us to begone. Our next visit to this school
30
is during Professor Thorp's administration, who succeeded Mr. and Mrs.
Atkins, with Miss Mary Perry as his assistant. Professor Thorp, un-
fortunately for himself and his school, possessed an ungovernable temper,
and Miss Perry soon tired of his tyranny and resigned her position, and
Miss Frances A. Dewey, afterwards Mrs. James A. Henderson, filled the
vacancy. The scholars had a great deal of regard for the assistant and
very little for the principal, and as girls and boys have always done they
took special delight in annoying him. One very cold morning in mid-
winter the professor stepped into the upper room and found "Old
Boreas" in full possession. The windows were raised as high as possible,
and the boys had carried out the stove during the night. There are those
living here today who assisted in this novel method of cooling off the irate
professor, yet as they are now gray-headed men, occupying honorable
positions in our town, we will not mention their names. After Professor
Thorp left, Mr. and Mrs. B. G. Hall had charge of this school, and later
Professor Jones and William Nowlan, Miss Robinson (now Mrs. John
Rhodes), Miss Lilly Beatty, Mr. Fellows, Mr. Humphrey taught here,
and doubtless others whose names we fail to recall. Here is another en-
rollment of names of a later date than those we found on Mr. Atkins'
table :
Bert Raymond, Herbert Rhodes, Kate Rhodes,
Alice Raymond, Heman Stickney, Martha Berfield,
Sarah Silliman, Mary Berfield, Matilda Shallenberger,
Mary Silliman, Ada Fuller, Onslow Shallenberger,
Clyde Lyon, Effie Lyon, Pauline Shallenberger,
Lizzie Witter, Frank Lyon, Thomas Shallenberger,
Frank Blair, Fred Rhodes, Gertrude Henderson,
Andrew Stickney, Frank Fuller, Ella Henderson,
The mental calibre that characterizes these scholars is not eclipsed by
any modern school, and at no time in its* history were other than com-
petent teachers employed. Years pass like summer clouds, and those
pupils who have not finished their work are men and women each doing
their part in the great school of life. To such as may read this imperfect
sketch of the "Old Brick Seminary" I will say that I feel sure if the bricks
which comprise its walls could speak they would tell a far better story
than mine. They would speak of youthful friendships and youthful loves
31
of pathetic and amusing incidents all unknown to the writer. This once
honored seat of learning is now used as a carriage shop, yet so long as the
old walls stand there are men and women who will gaze upon them and
recall memories too sacred to be written .
The Old Seminary Building
32
STARK COUNTY'S OLD JAIL
HIS jail was built in the year 1845. The
mason work was done by a man named Ham-
mond, who lived in Knoxville, Madison Winn
and David Guyer hauled the logs that lined the
interior of the cell with an ox team, from Spoon
river. John W. Henderson, now a resident of
Cedar Rapids, Iowa, was sheriff of Stark county
and Ira Ward was the first jailer. As soon as
Mr. and Mrs. Ward were settled in this prison
home they gave what was then called "a house
warming." The elite of this little county were
present. Many of this merry company "tripped
the light fantastic toe" to the music of the violin,
dexterously handled by Israel Dana. Mrs. Ward was a charming hostess
and the sheriff, who was a society favorite, added much to the success of
the occasion. The iron bars across the windows were well concealed by
curtains and there was nothing to suggest a prison. Were the roll called
today as the old jail is razed to the ground I think not more than five of
that merry company would respond. In 1 848 John Finley was elected
sheriff. His successor was William F. Thomas of Wyoming. Later
Clinton Fuller, Joseph Blanchard, Henry Breese, Oliver P. Emery,
Elisha Greenfield, Frank Fuller, Captain J. M. Brown, Jesse Likens,
Samuel Adams, Andrew Galbraith, William Hughes and Donald Mur-
chison. These all served the j^v'^, fff
county as sheriff during the years
the old jail was in use. During
the last years that the old build-
ing was occupied no one did as
much to conceal the ravages of
time as did Herrod Newland. It
was his hand that planted and The Old Jail
trained the vines about the porch that appear in the picture, and
33
when the old walls were torn down fragments of these vines
still clung to the ruins as if loth to let go, and they whispered of "A
vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that is still."
34
GEN. THOMAS J. HENDERSON
MRS. SARAH HENDERSON
MOTHER OF GEN. HENDERSON
SAMUEL DEWEY
MISS TILDEN
A PIONEER SCHOOL TEACHER
ADDRESS OF WELCOME
Delivered by Mrs. H. M. Blair, Aug. 3, 1895.
N behalf of the Old Settlers' Association, I ex-
tend a hearty welcome to all who have gathered
here today. May this be a day of hand clasp-
ing and good cheer a reminiscent day. We
meet to commemorate the virtues and pay tribute
to the achievements of the pioneers of Stark and
adjoining counties. We are proud to recall their
names and recount their noble deeds. The vari-
ous positions held by the pioneers at the organi-
zation of our county are now filled by other men,
and the daily routine moves forward as if no gap
were left by their absence, but the record of their
lives has passed into history and has left no blotted
page. Only a small remnant remains of those to whom rightfully belongs
the title of "Pioneers of Stark county," and from these the eagerness ot
youth has long since departed the frost of age has settled on the brow,
yet the kindly impulses of youth still cling to the heart, and they come
to us today
"Wearing marks of age and sorrow,
As the midnight wears its stars."
My hand can frame no fitter eulogy than to record the lessons these
pioneers taught us by their heroic devotion to the best interests of our
country. Their wealth lay in a self-reliant people, fertile lands, fruits of
the earth, and flocks and herds. Their motto was, "Dare to do right."
This motto was not hand painted and hung up in their homes, but it was
engraved on their hearts. Their creed was, "Smile at the present and be
able to see over the wall of the future." Every phase of life has its com-
pensations. Nature had spread a carpet under the feet of these pioneers
which surpassed in grandeur anything ever wrought by a weaver's shuttle.
Violets as blue as the sky of Italy, daisies and cowslips, the silver and the
gold beautifully mingled (16 to 1 ) , and as the prairie plow laid broad
37
furrows through these play-grounds, many a pathetic plea went up from
childish lips to spare this carpet of flowers, and while this country might
be a miniature wilderness, the Great Artist had been here long before
these pioneers set foot on this soil, and he had painted the landscape in a
fashion unknown to man.
It was here that child life found physically its widest, wisest and
most healthful development. The air was full of sweetness and song.
Nature had done so much for this country. The sturdy oaks which did
battle with the storms, stood like mammoth breastworks to protect the
pioneer's cabin from the cold of winter and the scorching heat of summer,
and no one thought of marring their natural beauty. It was not neces-
sary, as in our day, to say,
"O, woodman, spare that tree;
Touch not a single bough!"
The feathered songsters reveled in safety in these giant branches, and
the weary pioneer after a day of toil fell asleep listening to the song of the
whippoorwill and the nightingale. No brass band discoursed sweet music
to the lonely pioneer. A bass viol sadly out of tune furnished music on
the Sabbath for the few who gathered to worship God in the log school-
house, and this viol was "like David's harp of solemn sound." When
these pioneers met they talked of the future; now they talk of the past.
Those who turn to Stark county as the Mecca of their hopes read in
the glorious present a sequel to the wisdom of its founders. They plan-
ned well; and while all did not leave to their descendants broad acres,
they left unsullied names. Justice was their highest conception of duty,
and a verbal promise was as valid as a note. These memories will be
handed down from generation to generation, until they become only a
sweet echo from a consecrated past.
Many who are with us today have never seen a pioneer cabin in its
primitive beauty, and for such I will endeavor to draw a pen-picture of
an old settler's cabin. The cabin to which I would lead you stood on a
hill. About one hundred yards from the cabin was a little ravine it
would be called a slough in these days. (How the language has deterior-
ated!) A rough plank lay across the ravine so that those who wished
38
to cross dry-shod could do so. This ravine was fed by numerous springs
which supplied the families roundabout with pure water. The prairie
grass on its banks "waved and nodded in the breezes," water snakes
darted back and forth among the pebbles, miniature ships made of card-
board floated on its crystal bosom. Little children clad in the homespun
garb of the time rilled the air with the merry laugh of childhood. We
climb the hill and reach the cabin door, and such a door! yet none too
large to admit all who came for a balm for life's ills. The lame, the
sick, and the blind came the sorrowing came for sympathy, the suffering
for relief, the hungry for food, the perplexed for counsel, the homeless for
shelter. A kind word is always a safe word, and a commodity found in
pioneer homes. We will enter the cabin and survey the interior. The
walls of the cabin have been whitewashed, the huge fireplace is filled
with oak branches for it is summer time and the cooking is done over
an outdoor fire. On the mantel is the bric-a-brac several candlesticks,
heirlooms from homes across the sea, sea shells as pink as the cheeks of the
pioneer girls. A clock with a looking-glass in the door occupies the
center of this shelf, and just above this, suspended by leather straps, are
the fire-arms a rifle of rare capabilities, several shotguns and an old-
time flintlock pistol completes the artillery. Chairs with straight backs
and as hard as the Westminster catechism suggested dignity rather than
comfort. The rustic cradle in the corner contains the last blossom which
came to bless this cabin home. This cradle is rocked by the chubby hand
of a little boy who has just donned his first pants. This little boy is a
white-haired man today carrying a load of years and sorrows, and the
little pink baby we saw in the cradle is with us, labeled an Old Settler,
and is wearing the honors which have come to him with a look of resigna-
tion pleasant to behold.
But to return to the cabin. There is a rude bookcase (home-made) ;
upon its shelves may be found the mental food upon which this family
was fed. I will mention a few of these books: "The Rise and Progress
of Religion in the Soul," by Philip Dodridge; "Baxter's Saints' Rest,"
"Pilgrim's Progress," two volumes of sermons by Richard Watson;
Adam Clark's "Commentary." Do you wonder the pioneer children
39
became good men and women? Here, too, were the poems of Cowper,
Scott and Burns, and a scant supply of choice fiction. Wrong impres-
sions have taken root in the minds of some concerning these pioneer homes,
and they think of them as not only rude in structure but as devoid of the
refining influences found in the homes of today. This idea is foreign to
the truth. There were many cabins in Stark county that were models of
neatness and taste, where the presence of refined and cultured mothers left
their impress on the home, and there are those here today whose feet have
crossed the threshold of these cabins, who will enter them with me, and
will recognize some of these noble mothers. It was here true worth found
its test, and after all has been said that can truthfully be said of pioneer
life, the chief factor of happiness in these homes was the pioneer mother.
Home was her domain, and nothing that heart or brain could suggest, or
hand execute, that would add beauty or comfort to the home, was left
undone; for as the sun colors the flowers, so does environment color the
life of woman, and while we would congratulate the young people of our
country who are now in the valley of opportunity, we would not forget
those who climbed the rugged steps of life to lay the foundation of our
present prosperity.
"While we love to stray back to the days that are gone,
Along the green lanes of the past,"
We must leave these pioneer days, with their myriads of precious mem-
ories, and for a few moments deal with the busy present. In the world's
today we see a vast pagaent moving onward and upward to a broader
and grander civilization, and in this procession is "The New Woman."
It is true she flutters and fumes as if ill at ease, but in the world's tomor-
row she will adapt herself to these new conditions and stand by the side
of man in the beauty and dignity of true womanhood. To be worth
more today than yesterday! This is glory and life, in the individual or
in a nation.
Welcome, and all hail, to the Old Settlers! and to the young settlers,
and to the guests who are with us today ! And we would extend greetings
to the strangers in our midst.
All hail to Molly Stark ! May her shadow never grow less !
40
MRS. A. M. LEGG
BOUT the year 1 854 Mr. and Mrs. Legg be-
came residents of Toulon. They came from
Manchester, New Hampshire, and built a home
where Dr. Bacmeister now lives. Mrs. Legg
brought to our village the proverbial New Eng-
land thrift, and was classed among the best
housekeepers of the country. She was a royal
entertainer, and her home was the rallying place
for those who enjoyed her acquaintance. After
the lapse of years we can recall social occasions
made memorable by her tact and untiring energy,
but her generosity extended beyond the precincts
of home. The sick and the poor were often
regaled with dainties from her hand, and cheered by her genial presence.
The fiber of her being was of no common sort, and when she conferred
a favor it was not done grudgingly. A better friend or neighbor was not
to be found, and when the family was lured far away from us by promises
of a more lucrative position in the west, expressions of regret were heard
on all sides, and while but few remain here who enjoyed the friendship
of the deceased, there are those who are saddened by her death. Mrs.
Edna Forbes of Omaha, is the only child, and she has been the earthly
solace of her mother during the years of widowhood, and was by her side
to receive the parting words and the last look of love as she passed beyond
the shadows.
How fast the early settlers of our country are being gathered home!
Friends who were bound by the closest ties of friendship and ties of blood ;
these ties bind like girths of steel; yet death severs them and memory is
the only friend that grief can call its own.
41
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO
An Address Delivered by Mrs. H. M. Blair on the 25th Anniversary
of the birth of the Woman's Club of Toulon
UR meeting here this evening is to mark in this
pleasant manner the twenty-fifth anniversary of
the Woman's Club of Toulon. We feel hon-
ored by the presence of so many guests. The
constitution and by-laws of the Woman's Club
of Toulon as formulated by Mrs. E. H. Shal-
lenberger and Mrs. S. D. Walker, have led us
through pleasant paths for twenty-five years, and
but few changes have been made in the original
documents. The constitution was signed at the
home of our first president, Mrs. Ruth A.
Turner, and the following names were attached,
as written: Mrs. E. H. Shallenberger, Mrs. S.
D. Walker, Mrs. Ruth A. Turner, Mrs. H. M. Blair, Mrs. Lois Bald-
win, Mrs. Eliza Lyon, Mrs. E. L. Hall, Mrs. Carrie Rhodes, Miss Sarah
Berfield and Miss Sarah Turner. Later other names were added and the
record shows fifteen active members, and they were active. There were
no laggards in the camp, and no back work was reported.
We met ever Saturday evening during the year at 7 o'clock, rain or
shine, and there were obstacles to overcome unknown to many of our
present membership. No concrete walks furnished pleasant access to our
homes. Plank walks well plastered with Illinois mud or winter snows led
up to our doors. No electric lights illumined our paths and often only the
stars lighted us home.
There are few societies where greater harmony has prevailed. We
seldom see the sky however blue entirely destitute of clouds, and when a
ripple of discontent has appeared in our club the perennial fiber of good
will has chased it away. None will question our loyalty to the interests
of our club or as a rule our loyalty to each other. I mention this fact as
it is claimed that women never work together for any length of time
43
without a jangle. In the early days of the club the social side of the
club meant much to its members. There were fewer organizations to
occupy the minds of the people and scarcity often adds relish. So our
club came into existence at a time when many of our busy homekeepers felt
the need of mental stimulus. The charter members have been chided for
clinging so tenaciously to the old mooring, but the mariner always honors
the craft that has brought him safely over seas rough and smooth, for
twenty-five years. You cannot wonder that they who have nurtured this
club from its infancy feel a pride in its growth and strength, and as they
meet to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of its birth that they cling
fondly to the guiding hands that have been instrumental in bringing it to
its present state of literary and social perfection.
Death has claimed fifteen of our number during the twenty-five years.
"Those lost to sight, to memory dear" are Mrs. F. A. Henderson, Mrs.
Martha Myers, Mrs. Eliza Davis, Mrs. Alice Burge, Mrs. E. H. Shal-
lenberger, Mrs. Delle Rennick, Mrs. Eliza Lyon, Mrs. Lucy P. Smith,
Mrs. Allie Hall, Mrs. Kate Geer, Mrs. Mary Hartley, Mrs. Willett, Miss
Sarah Turner, Mrs. S. A. Chamberlain, Mrs. Helen Follett. Many
others have removed to distant homes and are now on our list of corres-
ponding members. Some of these we shall hear from tonight.
Our present method of changing officers is far better than the old
plan of electing by ballot, which always occupied one evening every
three months, and often occasioned more or less friction, as few enjoy see-
ing their friends "turned down," and out of thirty members only four could
possibly be elected. Now the succession is so pleasant and complete we
look into four new faces constituting the official board and accept the
change without a murmur. Commencing at the top of the roll the first
four named constitute the officers and as they move up and pass out of
office the next four come into place and so on to the end giving each
member an equal share of official honor.
We have been growing in wisdom if not in knowledge. The printed
programs relieve the president of the laborious task of arranging the work
for each evening; and while we reverence the past, we are adopting new
methods and consider ourselves a progressive body. These anniversaries
44
are milestones in the highway of thought. Banquets and sociables have
marked the close of each year's work, and we are encouraged by the
retrospect. Those who have passed on, and are no longer with us, merit
a loving remembrance tonight.
Touch us gently, Time!
We've not proud nor soaring wings:
Our ambition, our content,
Lies in simple things
Humble voyagers are we
O'er Life's dim unsounded sea,
Seeking only some calm clime:
Touch us gently, gentle Time!
B. W. Procter
45
A VOICE FROM THE PAST
HE brick house on the corner of Franklin and
Main streets in Toulon about to be torn down to
give place to the new bank building, deserves a
place in the history of Toulon. The lot upon
which this house stands was formerly owned by
W. W. Drummond, and in July of 1852 he
sold it to Henry Kerr, who, in 1853, sold to
John Kerr, who built the house about to be
demolished. John Kerr was an Irishman, and
. many other things not so creditable. He called
himself a merchant tailor which doubtless he
was. The contract for building this house was
given to a man not a resident of our town.
Wheeler B. Sweet furnished the brick. After the walls had reached the
gables they had spread to such an extent that the building was condemned ;
for a time it was thought the walls would have to be taken down, but by
the aid of iron braces they were drawn into place and the roof was put on,
but Mr. Kerr refused to accept the building. Later a compromise was
effected and Mr. Kerr and wife moved into the house. The first story was
fitted up for a store and tailor shop, where a fine line of men's goods was
displayed. No such cloth had ever been sold in the town, and Mr. Kerr
had all the custom he could desire, but owing to some misdemeanors he
soon became unpopular and in 1 856 he sold the property to E. N. Gates
and disappeared from our midst.
The house had then stood vacant for some months when General
Henderson sold his home to Samuel Dewey and moved into the Kerr
house while his new home was being built the place now owned by
Mr. Cotton. The next occupant was William Rose, who kept hotel
here for a short time, and he was succeeded by B. A. Hall, who, with
his estimable wife, kept a model hotel for several years. It was here that
Stephen A. Douglass was entertained when in Toulon upon the occasion
of what was to have been a joint debate with Abraham Lincoln. Mr.
47
Hall moved to Omaha and died there several years since. B. G. Hall,
at one time superintendent of schools in Stark county, also lived here.
In 1876 Mr. E. N. Gates sold the property to Daniel Wolgamwood,
and in 1877 Mr. Wolgamwood sold to Albert W. Bell. In 1880 Bell
sold to John H. Slater. In 1 881 John Slater sold to William H. Slater.
In 1 889 William H. Slater deeded this property to John Hufnagel of
Lombardville, who later sold to James Nowlan, who with his family has
occupied this house for more than twenty years. And while the exterior
of this home has not been attractive, the interior has given amj5le evidence
of the taste and industry of its occupants.
This house, like most human lives, has passed through vicissitudes,
but the old structure has stood erect amid the storms, as if defying all
former predictions of danger. Could these now forsaken walls speak they
could tell weird tales as strange as modern fiction.
At times in the past this has been a social center, noted guests have
found entertainment here. Children whose merry voices echoed through
these halls are men and women carrying burdens childhood never knew,
and as brick after brick falls to the ground we can but realize that the
world has little use for the old with the 20th century civilization the old
must give place to the new. Time makes history; although his hand may
leave traces of sadness, these are lessons we all must learn. The story of
this home, imperfect as it is, may revive memories that will live after the
last vestige of this old land-mark has disappeared from sight.
48
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS- URBANA
977.351B57P C001
PICTURES OF THE PAST GRAND RAPIDS
0112025392322
