Friday, September 29, 2017
Monday, September 18, 2017
George’s Coal
By Abraham Lincoln
By Abraham Lincoln
Looks so much like raw hamburger like George
Myers used to eat for lunch. I was a little boy of 6 or 7 years and used to set
on the porch with George and his wife, Ida, and watch the Model A's and Model
T's go past on the road in front of their house (now state route 722). When it
was time for lunch, Ida called us in and George ate his raw hamburger and Ida
ate something she cooked up, and she gave me a sugar cookie to eat.
Those were the days when finishing the 8th
Grade was all the education anybody needed, according to George. That’s as far
as he went and as far as anybody in his family had gone to school. George did
real good on his 8th Grade education.
George owned two coal yards and everyone in
town paid him for the coal either he delivered or they picked up. He owned the
ground on the east side of the railroad tracks where the D&U train parked
coal cars on the siding by his coal piles.
George paid the Harleman brothers $20.00 to
unload the coal cars and throw the coal on what soon became mountains of fresh
coal. That coal was burned by every home in Gordon, Ohio. People used it in
kitchen cook stoves and living room heating stoves until summer when the stoves
stopped burning and houses were heated and air conditioned by opening doors and
windows.
Those were the best of times and the worst of
times and we all remember them with smiles.
At Gordon School, one-half mile west of town,
in the country, is the two-room red brick school house called, “Gordon School.”
The teacher had been there for many years teaching the first through the eighth
grade. Her name was, Beatrice Brown, and she was a spinster who lived with her
mother in Arcanum, Ohio.
She was strict and kept an orderly school with
absolutely no nonsense of any kind allowed. Each grade got a recess for about
30 minutes when they finished the day’s lessons in any subject. Everyone had to
go outside to play and some play days were better than others.
After the hour-long Noon recess ended, and
everyone had to go back into the school house. Coal shed keys laying on your
desk meant you had to go out to the coal shed and get two buckets of coal to
feed the furnace at the back of the room. So the coal in the mountain pile
across the tracks back home ended up in coal buckets at school keeping me and
the other 23 kids warm in the winter.
George Meyers, the raw hamburger man, had
somebody fill up his dump truck with coal and haul it out to school and shovel
it through the coal shed window where it formed the coal pile us kids filled up
the coal buckets from.
I remember during the War Years, when mother
and I rode a train from downtown Dayton, Ohio to Hinton West Virginia. We saw
miles and miles of train cars loaded with West Virginia coal outbound for
places like Gordon, Ohio where I lived.
We also burned a lot of corn cobs because they
were free and when mother didn’t have any money to buy coal with we used free corn
cobs that were shoveled through the coal window in our shed.
(576 words)
Monday, September 11, 2017
Iwo Jima Revisited
On Iwo Jima I came across this Japanese Pillbox not far from Mt Suribachi. All of the men once in it died defending this place and now it is silent. Look how thick the concrete was on the end. A lot of hopes and dreams died that day just like they died at Pearl Harbor.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
Toilet Trained
Toilet Trained
by Abraham Lincoln
by Abraham Lincoln
Toilets were necessary when I was born in 1934. That is one of the first lessons I had to learn: pooping and peeing were human functions but parents were not thrilled when their cute baby did them in a diaper momma was going to have to wash, so the diaper could be pinned on the clothesline, in the sunshine, with wooden clothespins, on number 9 clothesline wire, that had to be washed off, to make it clean for clean clothes to hang on.
The first lesson was to use the toilet; but it was a creepy place and if you leaned over and looked at the bottom of the seat, it was covered with bugs and big spiders that might bite your bottom-end poking through the hole in the toilet seat.
Dad called our outside toilet a privy; and it didn't start out being the dilapidated structure it was, leaning askew, practically setting in the alley behind our house, but it was where adults went to do their business. I was too little to crawl up and set on the seat so I had to use a chamber pot.
There was a white porcelain pot and matching lid that sat by the kitchen stove. Anybody could use it, but I grew up thinking it was my pot and I was unhappy to raise the lid and see what looked like momma's tea filling the pot. Momma had to empty the pot in the toilet before I could use it. It was clean enough for me to pee in when she set it down beside the kitchen stove.
There was a white porcelain pot and matching lid that sat by the kitchen stove. Anybody could use it, but I grew up thinking it was my pot and I was unhappy to raise the lid and see what looked like momma's tea filling the pot. Momma had to empty the pot in the toilet before I could use it. It was clean enough for me to pee in when she set it down beside the kitchen stove.
My mother was proud as punch when she realized she got me "toilet trained," because she didn't have to wash dirty diapers and hang them out to dry in the sunshine. She told anyone who came to our house that her little boy was toilet trained and she told people she met at the grocery store that I was a big boy now; and they smiled.
I had blond curls in my hair and momma wanted me to be a girl so bad that she often dressed me in one of the dresses she made for her little girl. I suppose I looked like a girl with blond curly hair. The men laughed at the way I looked and my dad didn't appreciate it so he took me, one day, to see Henry Meyers.
Henry had a little house with a big chair that swiveled round and round. He spoke to my dad and then Henry told me he would give me a penny if I sat still. I agreed and he slapped a board across the arms of the barber chair and told me to set down.
Henry had a little house with a big chair that swiveled round and round. He spoke to my dad and then Henry told me he would give me a penny if I sat still. I agreed and he slapped a board across the arms of the barber chair and told me to set down.
My big curls began to fall down around me and all of them ended up around the barber's chair on the floor. Dad paid him some money and Henry gave me a penny. I held onto that penny all the way home. It was the first real money that I ever earned.
I smiled at Tommy Rice, the village blacksmith, who stood up straight and smiled back and said something to my dad. Dad took out a big wad of Mail Pouch Chewing tobacco and stuck it in his mouth and spit out the ball already in his mouth before he said, I hope his mother likes it; he looks like a boy now and not a girl.
We walked on home and opened the door and went inside and mother screamed my name and came over to the door where I stood and hugged me, and I think she even kissed me. She cried because all my beautiful blond curls were gone. She gave my dad the dickens but I called it the "devil."
Sunday, September 3, 2017
The Way it Was
The Way It Was
by Abraham Lincoln
Looks so much like raw hamburger like George Myers used to eat for lunch. I was a little boy of 6 or 7 years and used to set on the porch with George and his wife, Ida, and watch the Model A's and Model T's go past on the road in front of their house.
When it was time for lunch, Ida called us in and George ate
his raw hamburger and Ida ate something and gave me a sugar cookie to eat and
if I still looked hungry, Ida would give me a second big sugar cookie.
Those were the days when finishing the 8th Grade was all the
education anybody needed, according to George. I thought he should know because
he often boasted about finishing the 8th grade and he would tell you over and
over what he got from his education besides being able to recite the
multiplication tables through 7 because he was 49 where he stuck as long as I
knew him.
George owned two coal yards and everyone in town paid him
for the coal he delivered or they picked up. The Dayton and Union City
(D&U) train parked coal cars on the siding by his coal piles and George
paid the Harleman brothers $20.00 to unload each coal car and throw the coal on
what became mountains of fresh coal for kitchen cook stoves.
The big lumps of coal were used in heating stoves and the
boys had to throw it lump by lump out of the cars onto the siding and then make
a big pile of lump coal that people used to heat their homes with. When George
delivered our coal, he used a scoop shovel to shovel the smaller pieces of coal
through the opening in the shed but he had to carry in the big lumps of coal by
hand and lay them inside the shed on the dirt floor.
Later on, when he was gone I had to use an axe like a sledge
hammer to break the lumps into smaller lumps that I could carry. I was lucky to
get two pieces of lump coal in the coal bucket but had to use both hands to
carry the bucket into the house and set it down beside the heating stove in the
living room. I could carry a full bucket of cook stove coal we used in the
kitchen stove with one hand.
That coal was burned by every home in Gordon, Ohio, where we
lived, in kitchen cook stoves and living room heating stoves until summer when
the stoves stopped burning and houses were heated and air conditioned by
opening doors and windows. If hot water was needed and you didn’t own a
kerosene stove then you had to fire up the kitchen stove to heat water in the
teakettle and the stove had to be hot to prepare meals three times every day.
George owned a tiny office close to the railroad tracks at
the south end of Gordon along the tracks. That was where the men came to tell
stories. Most men chewed tobacco so there were brass spittoons lined
Those were the best of times and the worst of times and we
all remember them.
Saturday, September 2, 2017
Mimosa Blooming
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Rain on the skylight. Pitter-patter. Not cold enough for snow or ice but nice to hear the rain. Read the story. I used to draw a lot.
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Rain on the skylight. Pitter-patter. Not cold enough for snow or ice but nice to hear the rain. Read the story. I used to draw a lot.
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On Iwo Jima I came across this Japanese Pillbox not far from Mt Suribachi. All of the men once in it died defending this place and now it ...
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37ª this Tuesday morning with patchy frost.