A Little Bit About the Lemp's

(L-R Ralph, Diana, Delice, Victoria, and Clifford)

Delice - Sister

I never really got to know her like I should have. She got married real young and moved to Florida shortly thereafter. I don’t recall ever seeing her as a kid, until the day she was married. Later on she made a lot of attempts to become closer with long hand written letters. Here I dropped the ball by not answering in-kind. But after all these years I must admit, I could barely decipher her handwriting. If that sounds like I am using that as an excuse, I probably am. Dereliction has always been my forte when it comes to communication.

As I said before I am doing this blog to kind of rectify that a little bit.

However, orally, I still talk a lot but don’t really say anything. So after running my communication skills around the barn a few times, simply put, it’s my fault that we did not spend more time together or stay in touch.

I remember going to visit them when they owned a home in the St. Petersburg area of Florida and really enjoyed her children, two lovely girls and especially her son Clifford.

My most vivid memory of that trip was having her husband Ralph telling me that he had something he wanted to show me. This was rather surprising. Because up to that point I thought he was a mute. So, we went walking to one of his neighbor’s house. We walked the short distance without either one of us uttering a word. In the neighbor’s back yard was a big cage with monkeys in it. As we stood there, Ralph quite contently threw peanuts into the cage. On the way back to his house Ralph was quite verbose. And he seemed to delight in the monkeys antics

A few years later she came to visit me when I was living in Rowley Mass.  This trip for her was a period of contemplation. She was in the throes of a break up with a person she had a social and business relationship with. From what I could gather a fishing boat was one of the losses. And it was the lose of the boat, not the man, that bothered her most.

The next time I saw Delice she was married to Frank Capone. And again it was a mix of business and relationship. The business was the dealing of church vestments and other sundry church related items. (It seems that many southern clerics have more different colored robes than Imelda Marcos has shoes)

Delice lost her son Clifford when he was still a young man and has not had an easy life. If a splintered family start and the loss of a son was not enough to contend with. She has been battling problems with her vision for many years. Several times she has come close to losing her eyesight. But after a recent operation, she assures me that she is doing well. And with her deep religious convictions, she manages to get by.

She is fortunate to have a couple of James Lemp’s paintings, which some day I hope to see.

As for her two husbands. Both, I found to be eccentric, one liked to hint that his family had ties to the mafia. And the other, an odd fondness for primates. Both good men I am sure. But you know that all brothers think; no matter who the guy is, he’s not good enough for his sister. 

I can not compare Delice to any other family member. She is unique.

Hermann Lemp- Great Grandfather

Most of what I know about my great grandfather is well documented and easy to find.

The following excerpt is from the Mid-continent Railroad museum web site. This article is about the dedication of a plaque honoring my great grandfather for his work on control systems for diesel locomotives. In August of 2003. They flew myself, Lisa, and Diana out to Wisconsin and put us up in the Best Western hotel in Baraboo. They covered all expenses and were very nice to us. I have not tried to correct the mistakes they made in this article. When we were out there we kept trying to get the great and great-great part across to them. But they still got it wrong. 

I fell in love with Wisconsin. Just like I do with any other farming area I visit.

Following this article will be another longer article about my great grandfather that I am going to put in that you will have to click on to open yourself.

Mid-Continent News (Source)

Montana Western #31 Designated ASME Landmark (8/23/03)

On Saturday August 16, sixty-five people attended the Great Northern 2313/Montana Western 31 gas-electric rail motorcar ceremony at the Mid-Continent Railway Museum. GN 2313/MW31 was designated an American Society of Mechanical Engineers (ASME) Historic Mechanical Engineering Landmark. The ceremony occurred at Mid-Continent Railway Museum from 11:30 to 4:30.

This self-propelled railcar is the oldest surviving equipment from the Electro-Motive Company and predates the incorporation into the Electro-Motive Division of General Motors (EMD—a major locomotive builder today. A comparison with both builder's photographs and drawings show that most of the car has remained unchanged. The car was built for the Great Northern and used from 1925 to 1939 on a run between Marcus, WA and South Nelson, BC, Canada. It was then sold to the Montana Western Railway that ran about 20 miles between Valier and Conrad, MT. In 1966, Mid-Continent Railway Museum acquired the car.

GN 2313/MW31 and sister cars represented the first major use of the Dr. Hermann Lemp control system. Dr. Lemp's control system replaced a complicated throttle and electric control system with a "one lever" system--simple enough for a steam locomotive engineer to operate. This control system was the basis of all diesel-electric locomotive systems for over fifty years. Its concepts are still embodied in the control software of today's locomotives using direct current traction motors.

Mr. Hermann Lemp III, grandson of Dr. Hermann Lemp, and two great granddaughters: Elisabeth Lemp Cheney and Diana Lemp were honored guests at the ceremony. Ms. Cheney shared reminiscences of Dr Herman Lemp. Joseph O. Slezinger III, former EMD employee, gave a talk about the development of the gasoline engine, electric traction motors, electric generator and the Lemp control system. He explained how the system on GN 2313/MW31 developed from earlier technology and led to later diesel-electric locomotive development.

GN 2313/MW31 represents the 229th in a series of historic mechanical engineering landmarks, heritage collections, and heritage sites honored by ASME International's History and Heritage (H&H) program since the program's inception in 1972. Each selection represents contributions made by the technological advances of mechanical engineering and their impact on the quality of life. ASME sections: Chicago, Fox Valley, and Rock River Valley, ASME Region VI, ASME Rail Transportation Division, and Mid-Continent Railway Museum prepared the nomination for the national H&H committee.

The 120,000-member ASME International is a worldwide engineering society focused on technical, educational and research issues. It conducts one of the world's largest technical publishing operations, holds some 30 technical conferences and 200 professional development courses each year, and sets many industrial and manufacturing standards.

A little bit about the Thornton's and Lemp's

A couple of respondents to this attempt at chronicling the little knowledge I have of the Lemp history have asked; has anyone given you any new information, anecdotes or corrected you? The answer is no. That’s not the kind of feedback I am receiving.
I doubt the people who could do that,will ever read this blog. But I would be quite content to be corrected and tutored.
Whenever I think about Noel and Adele, the next two family members I’m going to write about, I cannot help but feel contrite. The tune by The Mills Brothers “You Always Hurt the One You Love” would best describe my remorse. I certainly could have been a more helpful brother to them both.

Noel Lemp—brother
Noel and I went through the system together and reacted to it totally different. There were three years between us and at that age it makes a big difference. I was his big brother and certainly got into many scrapes trying to protect him. So we were kind of together and kind of apart the way kids can be.
Noel was definitely Peck’s bad boy right from the get go. He was constantly in hot water. When he was about eight years old he was hiding in an apple tree so he could avoid helping the rest of us kids with our chores. Unfortunately for him, a branch broke and he fell about twenty feet and landed on a wooden sand box. Landing on the two-by six frame resulted in a nasty compound fracture of one of his legs. The screams of anguish could be heard all over the neighborhood. The response time to emergencies in the early fifties was somewhat longer than now. So the feeling of despair seemed endless. He ended up with a plate in his leg. He walked with a slight limp for the rest of his life. In grammar school the system  made his life miserable as they forced him to write right handed, when he was a natural lefty. And the foster home at the schools prompting, forced him to do everything else with his right hand. To his credit he stubbornly refused. And the system finally gave up on him, in more ways then one. And for the rest of his life, in my mind, he was the real life Joe Btfsplk.
When he was a young adult he was constantly in trouble with the police. No real crimes, mostly delinquency due to imbibing.
For an example, one night after having one too many he decided that he was hungry. So he broke into a diner, turned on all of the lights, and fixed himself a snack. When the police showed up, they found him sitting at the counter, reading a newspaper and eating a sandwich. These kinds of shenanigans were a real embarrassment to me. I should have tried to consul him but I was more concerned about my image and shunned him. When my mother passed away we had to bail him out of jail for some minor scrap. He was in the Salem jail waiting for the judge’s disposition in this particular incident. I had to put my house up as surety so that he could attend the funeral proceedings. There was a lot of Lemp’s sleeping at my house that night. Except for me, I was on a constant vigil to make sure Noel did not decide to take it on the lam. If he did it would not have been done with malice. That’s just the way he was. He married a girl named Corinne or Carina (I think) who had one child. They lived in Salem Mass in a real seedy neighborhood. He had a difficult time holding a job. But they seemed to love each other and were getting by. Then one day out of the blue he came to my work place in Medford. Mass. He told me things were going pretty good but that he was out of work again. So to pass the time he would like to borrow my John boat and electric trolling motor so he could go fishing. With a little trepidation, I said yes. I gave him a few dollars and wished him luck. That was the last I ever saw of Noel, or my boat and motor for that matter.
From what I can gather, he went to try his luck with David and then Harry. And then became a drifter. At the age of forty, he was hit and killed by a train somewhere in Louisiana.
Noel had a flair for sketching and probably could have followed in his Uncle James’s footsteps. He was tall for a Lemp, about five-eleven. He had an impish nature and an infectious grin. He preferred to be called Paul and was well liked and had many friends from Ryal Side. But his rebellious nature lead to a star-crossed life.

Adele Lemp-sister
I have always called her Adele but have heard others refer to her as Elise. Which it appears is her actual given name.
Of all the missteps in my life, and believe me there were many, how I handled my interaction with her still haunts me to this day. My youngest daughter, Diana, has been trying to make contact with her. She has been in contact with Adele’s social worker. And it appears as though Adele is not the least bit interested in any interaction.
I do not blame her one bit. If the roles were reversed I’m sure I would react the same way.
When Diana told me that she was going to try make contact again (she had tried a few years prior). It filled me with apprehension. How could Adele not think after all these years, “Is this about me or him? What an arrogant asshole!”
Adele is tiny and beautiful. When she has things under control health wise she is vibrant and very witty. She is, I believe, the only one of us kids to get a college degree. You only have to talk to her for a few minutes to realize that you are talking to a very intelligent person. When she was having problems and she needed me the most, I failed her. I would like to have a few anecdotes to relate. But our relationship was stormy at best. And any tales I have should stay between her and I.
David and Delice have been much closer to her. And I applaud them for being much more helpful and caring than I.
According to the contact Diana has had with Adele’s social worker. Adele is doing well physically and is quite content. I sincerely hope so.
I can see a little bit of Adele in all three of my daughters.
And all things being equal, I think Adele and Leah would easily out shine us all.

A little bit about the Thornton's part three

If, I had any sense at all I would have paid attention to the old adage “let sleeping dogs lie” and not got involved in this. But I said I would. So I guess there is no turning back now!

I must reiterate these memories are from a very isolated youngster. On the rare occasions, that I broached, this sensitive subject. I got what I like to refer to as “the hesitation waltz” The look that went along with the delay (body language) clearly said, the person did not want to pursue this subject. So when I asked, did this or that happen? I always got an emphatic “no!” And then usually a quick subject change or vague double- talk. This was the reaction from all family members, whether it was ignorance or embarrassment is open to conjecture

As I proceed, conjecture, is the key word. Let’s hope there is more fidelity than fallacy to this undertaking.

For years I was bitter. I could not for the life of me understand how the Lemp family would just cut us kids adrift. But now I realize it was a complex situation and probably was handled the right way.

So I will proceed with what little bit I know about the Lemps.

Grandfather Harry Lemp

I first became aware of him, when things started to deteriorate in our household. All the kids were packed off to friends or relatives. This hiatus was meant to be a time of healing. David and Harry went to stay with neighbors. Adele stayed with Aunt Ethel Parker. Delice, with another Pa. relative. I have no idea where Noel went as he was still an infant. I, with the luck of the draw, got the Col. At the time he was married to his first wife and they lived in New York State. Or it could have been Pa. I’m not sure it just seemed awfully far away to me. It was a rigid atmosphere and in retrospect I’m sure it was not a lot of fun for them. The few times I saw him in the future he came across as being quite pompous. Although the last time I saw him before he passed away, he seemed to be reflective and a little rueful. Later I learned that he was not as affluent as I thought he was. I vividly remember two incidents that were outshoots of my brief stay with him. One I prefer to keep to myself. The second one occurred on my first night of basic training. The DI’s spend the first day striving to scare the living shit out of the recruits. So that first night when we were all in our bunks after lights out. All I could hear was troopers crying. As I lay there, the thought popped into my head. “Look at me, Col. I ain’t crying!

Uncle James-Herman’s brother
Up until about fifteen years ago I had only heard his name mentioned a few times. When I finally did get to meet him I was impressed. He came across as a humble gentleman. He was an art Professor at a college on Long Island in New York. He had a studio at his home and was a renowned artist. Although I only met him a few times he has had a big impact on my life style. Allowing me to have a little financial freedom in my retirement.
When I think of him, I feel as though he and my great-grandfather must have had the same demeanor.
Aunt Clara Hutchings-Herman’s sister
Clara was slight of stature and rather timid. But very intelligent, refined and pleasant. She lost her only son Richard to an automobile accident. He was a young man in his twenties (him and David were close) She also lost her husband Maurice (I think that was his name) when he was only fiftyish. Adele lived with Clara for a few years, and Clara was a good influence on her. Clara lived in a affluent section of Newton, Mass. and was a librarian there for many years. I remember her and her husband coming to Beverly to pick up Noel and I and taking us to Merrimac Mass. for Delice’s wedding to Ralph Wilson. When she passed away there was a good representation of Lemp’s in attendance.
Clara was the type of person who made you proud to be a Lemp. And I do believe that it was her type of demeanor that attracted her brother to Leah Thornton.
David Lemp-Herman’s son
David is the oldest child. And the one I know the best. Although we did not see eye-to-eye on most things and had not seen much of each other during our childhood. We did communicate when we became adults. Dave liked to make periodic visits back to the area, to visit family and friends. He is much more qualified to relate the saga of the Georgetown Lemp’s than I am. He like the rest of the family was tight lipped when approached. But on occasion there were hints of knowledge, or maybe they were slips.
He would talk about visiting relatives and I would have no idea who they were.
Although I often thought that David was blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. I felt we were similar to a certain degree. Anytime someone would stand up and say “If I had my life to live over again, I would not change a thing” I would say to my self what a crock of shit. I’m sure Dave agrees and like me, rues many things.
I am beholden to him for certain things, but feel as though we are square.
One summer his step daughter Linda came to live with me and my family at Danvers port Mass. She turned out to be a delightful person. And we are very fond of her and her mother Jan. I for one think David should thank his lucky stars for having Jan. In reciprocation my daughters Becky and Diana went out there one summer. And became friends with Dave’s daughter Sandy, who my daughters often speak of when we talk about the family. I went out there for a combination hunting trip and Linda’s wedding. It turned out to be quite an experience. My wife at the time, Priscilla and my daughters Lisa and Becky followed a few days later and arrived at O’Hare airport right after a horrific airplane crash. My memory is sketchy on the details but they lost all of their luggage. Someone had to go pick them up and they barely made it to the church on time. I also recall Linda being a nervous wreck the night before the wedding and was outside with me cleaning rabbits in a snow shower.
I also recall a pleasant trip out to Omaha. From there I, Dave, and two of his friends drove up to International Falls Minn. Where we flew to a fishing camp in the middle of Canada for a week of walleye fishing.
Dave's looks and demeanor remind of grand father Harry.

I’m going to have to make the Thornton and Lemp blog a few more installments longer as I am turning into a real gas bag. I have yet to mention Harry, Noel, my sisters, mother and father, great grandfather or a line or two about his nibs. So I will end this segment with the last newspaper article I have of the Thornton’s. I will end what ever segments that are left with some literature about my great grandfather Dr. Hermann Lemp

             North East Breeze Wednesday August 22 1990
                 Old Days in North East by Ralph Hartley
                          The Village Blacksmith
Soon after the Civil War the Village of Little Hope appeared about as it does today, with eight of ten little houses n the south side and a few houses and several mills on the north side.
So far is known, Myron Stetson had the first fulltime blacksmith shop in Little Hope. It was on the north side, about where the store used to be. The pioneers had lots of horses, and oxen too. Whether they were “shoed” is not certain. Roads were soft in early days.
Heavy hauling on graveled roads with loads of logs, feed, etc., meant horses’ hooves needed protection. Myron may have had a shop prior to the Civil War. He died in 1917. He took Hiram Thornton as apprentice about 1889.
When horses and oxen provided transportation and farm power, the blacksmith was perhaps the most important man around. In addition to shoeing animals, he put steel rims on wagon wheels, steel runners on sleighs and cutters. He repaired machinery, put spokes in wheels, made sleds for kids, make milking stools, and did a lot of useful things.
Hiram ran the shop until 1919. By this time automobiles were becoming common. Hiram could see it happening. No longer was the horse dominant and no longer was the blacksmith as important. In 1919, Hiram bought his first car, a Maxwell, sold to him by Ora Pierce.
Lee Thornton says his dad bought it to experiment with mechanically, evidently hoping to learn enough to look after cars as well as horses. He had greatly enlarged the shop in 1916, and had a gasoline-powered lathe. He made baseball bats and other things with the lathe. Area baseball teams had Hi’s bats. You couldn’t break them over your knee as they do today. The handles were much too thick.
Adding to Hi’s troubles was the January, 1917, fire which burned his small barn. Three horses died and a cow and the winter’s hay and oats. A visitor dropped a cigarette in some straw on the floor, it was believed. The wind was blowing toward the house when the fire began, but luckily it changed directions and the house was spared.
Hiram sold his shop in 1919 and tried farming for a year or two. After a brief stay near Hornby, Hiram moved to North East where he lived until he died Dec. 24, 1925. He was only 59. Lee suspects that a horse’s kick to the stomach area some years before, may have affected his health.
Horses were nervous creatures, suspicious of persona approaching from the rear. Hiram made just one careless move, and it was a painful experience. Blacksmithing was a dangerous occupation in many ways. Horses could bite as well as kick, or they might use their weight to crush you against a wall.
Then, too, Hiram was heating iron to a white-hot, soft condition. He judged its readiness to shape by its color. A careless contact with the heated metal could cause a severe burn. A leather apron gave protection protections against sparks, but his face was uncovered. He wore a mustache and a cap. A long-sleeved undershirt helped guard his arms against burns.

Hi’s powerful hands were bare. He needed the touch of the hammer to guide his strokes. If a live spark hit a hand, he could always dip his hand in a nearby bucket of water.

On a typical day he arrived at the shop at seven, went home at noon, and then worked until work was finished in the afternoon. Sometimes in a rush of urgent business he might return to the shop and work until eleven.Mary, his wife, kept a big kettle of stew on hand in case Hi brought a customer or two home for lunch. Mary bore him 13 children, over a period of 25 years, from 1892 to 1917. Omer died at age 9 n 1902. Two girls died soon after birth. Ten children grew into hard-working, responsible adults and lived to old age.

When Hi got married about 1891, his father, Buel, told him, “If you have more children than I had, I’ll give you a hat”. Buel had 11 children. So Buel, after Spencer was born in 1917, presented Hi was a hat.

Buel had served in the Civil War. After the war ended, he had some peacetime service in New Orleans and met a Southern lady who be(came) his wife. Somehow she survived northern winters after Buel brought her home to the Saginaw, Michigan farm where he had a land grant from…… duty. He later moved to Harborcreek and then to the Wilson Road farm which was later owned by Archie Buel’s wife was Amelia Scherman Thornton.

A little bit about the Thornton’s-- part two

I am not too happy with the job I did on part one. A few years ago I first started writing this blog at my children’s request. The reason they asked me to do it. Is because, they knew little or nothing about my childhood. Other than a few light hearted anecdotes.
The reason I never talked about the subject was that up until about five years ago, I had not come to accept the fact that it was not really, the abomination, that I thought it was.
So in the first Thornton blog, I sort of bragged about my memory. Well in reading the literature I have about the Thornton’s. I could not help but marvel at how much their house in Pa. stacked up, as to how I remember our house in Georgetown.
So at the risk of redundancy, I am going to touch on a few of my childhood memories and how they affected me. And then I will add another article about the Thornton’s to illustrate, what I feel are similarities. And of course leave my memory wide open for second guessing.
My recollection starts, when I was not yet five years old, I am not going to relate all that I recall. Just the gist of the family break up, and what happened to my parents.
Noel and I were removed from the household and placed into an orphanage in Boston Mass. About a year later we placed into the home of Helen Thibedeau in Beverly Mass. as state wards. We were very fortunate to be placed with her; she was my first true love. But the locals did look down their noses at state wards. And I feel as though we were discciriminated. All my time in Beverly, I felt like a party crasher. But this was only with the adults, the church and the schools. As for the kids I grew up with, they accepted me as just another kid. And I have many of them as friends to this day. Although, many are leaving this earth at an alarming pace.
Delice and Adele went straight to a foster home as state wards in Merrimac Mass. And from what I can gather faired quite well.
Harry went straight to a foster home in the cove section of Beverly, Mass and also fared quite well. The family’s name was Tate. And I do believe wanted to adopt him. But Harry being older and much more aware of his Lemp heritage resisted it.
David went to stay with our neighbor the Thompson’s. And from there joined the Air Force at a young age.
As for my Mother and father I can only relate what I have as fragmented hearsay. My mother was a small fragile women who after baring one child after another. Was expected to go right back home and do the tremendously hard work of housekeeper, cook, nurse and the myriad tasks of a mother in a big drafty house with no running hot water or appliances of any kind. I believe she was a victim of postnatal trauma and the trauma of her husband hurting his hands in an electrical accident, and not able to work to support the family. I feel as though she just caved in under the load that was thrust upon her. She ended up spending the rest of her life in the hell hole known as Danvers State Mental Institute. Where she was misdiagnosed and mistreated until her death. In this day and age she would have led a perfectly normal life. As you can see her mother had the same demands on her. But, was of a much more robust physique, and had much more family support. I do not mean to imply that Herman’s siblings, Clara and James and his father Harry would not help. But unlike the Thornton’s, his family did not live near by.
And as we all know, my father, feeling like a complete failure. Selected suicide to get out of a situation that he felt he had no control over.
That’s it in a nut shell, in future blogs I will go back and tell you about each
 of my family individually. But remember, it will be my view.

I chose to add an excerpt from utube to give you some idea of the hellish conditions my mother had to endure at the Danvers State Hospital
I remembering getting up and walking out of the theater during the screening of “one flew over the cuckoo’s nest” I to this day do not think people with any mental issues should be made fun of. All though few will admit it. Every family has someone who needs understanding. Not ridicule.
And as, for genes. The Lemp family has more than it share of over achievers.

                     Old Days in Northeast by Ralph Hartley

                                      “Bring up a Child”
Hiram Thornton was five foot four inches tall and weighed a muscular 175 pounds. Mary, his wife, was five feet tall and weighted maybe 140, depending on whether or not she was with child. For 27 years she was either with child or with baby.
Omer was born June 11, 1892. Ethel was born April 11 1895. Other births: Beatrice, Jan. 25, 1900; Lee and Leah, twins, Oct. 29, 1903; Ilah Nov. 14, 1901, Burton, Nov. 3, 1909; Burlan, Nov. 25, 1910; Ruby, Obt. 26, 1906, Ella 1912; Vera, Aug. 10, 1915; Spencer, Jan 20, 1917; Ruth, May 12 1897.
Omer died of blood poison from a foot injury before age 10. Ruby and Ella died in infancy. Ilah, Lee and Spencer survived. Mary was born March 22, 1873, and lived until April 25, 1955, age 82.
In early married life, Hi and Mary may have stayed with Buel at the Archie Evans farm on Wilson Road. But by 1900, with three children they decided it was time to have their own house. So Hi built a house on one acre of land a short distance west from Buel. Buel may have sold or donated the acre of ground.
It was a practical, no frills house, frame with two stories and a small porch in front. There was a small, earthen floor cellar for storing potatoes or apples. An open air well was dug on the east side close by the kitchen entrance. A large storage room was on the north side with a stoop and plank ramp leading to the door.
The downstairs had a living room, a parlor, and a bedroom, a kitchen and the storage room. Upstairs there were three bedrooms, with walls unplastered. Just the bare necessitates.
Only the parlor had a rug. Other floors were bare boards. Made it easier to keep clean. There were no davenports or stuffed chairs. The cooking was done on a wood-fired kitchen range. The living room was heated with a baseburner using anthracite coal.
When necessary, the boys slept three to a bed, as did the girls. Guests might use a cot in the living room. They hired man slept where he could, doubling up with one of the boys, or using a cot.
Not much new clothes were bought. There were lot of hand-me-down dresses, coats, caps, and trousers, etc. from one child to the younger. Even the uncles chipped in with clothing. Mary had a sewing machine, petal type, and it was kept busy with repairs and clothes making.
As for food, it was plentiful if not fancy. Breakfast often had pancakes with maple syrup and sausage or bacon. Occasionally jonny cake or corn meal mush with syrup was eaten.
The noon meal often had a stew of vegetables and meat. This with a big slice of home-made bread plus a side dish of canned fruit and perhaps apple pie kept the kids going til supper.
Fried potatoes, meat and homemade bread could be had for supper. Hi had a big garden and in season there were always fresh tomatoes, corn on cob, peas, beans, etc. aplenty. If Lee was lucky at fishing or hunting there could be fish or rabbit on the menu.
Hi planted apple trees and apples were left on the ground for winter eating. They seldom froze under the Greenfield snows. There were blackberries from nearby pasture and woods, and strawberries, and nuts from the woods. The Thornton family ate well.
Sometimes one of Hi’s customers would give him a quarter of beef on a past
due bill. This would be hung outside on the rear porch and the cold kept it in good shape in winter weather. There always was a hog to butcher, which provided lard, sausage, hams, and such.

Hi kept a flock of 30 chickens which produced eggs and an occasional rooster dinner with biscuit.
Lee found time to play baseball, swim, and similar boyhood activities, in addition to school, helping at the blacksmith shop and hoeing and weeding the garden. He learned to plow at age 10, and to drive a carriage at age 12. He was a mainstay in the family with all those sisters to look out for. Tending the horses, cows, and such added to his labors.
One activity was severely frowned on by Hi. Once he heard Lee use a cussword when things didn’t go right. Hi invited Lee to the stable where he took a horsewhip and “tickled” Lee’s bare legs. Lee was about 12 and he never forgot that “lesson” He is now 87 and for 75 years you can believe he has never used a swear word.

A little bit about the Thorntons

My memory has always been an enigma to me. I can remember vividly things that happen over seventy years ago. But have a terrible time remembering names when I meet people, or where I left my glasses five minutes ago. If there was some one with the same experiences still around, they would probably say I was full of shit.
But some of the life style that my mother’s family endured, I can relate to as a child living in Georgetown Mass. An outhouse, no central heat,only one sink with a pump handle. The sink drained into a dry well right outside and was always a muddy spot. Just to name a few.
The following excerpts were written by Ralph Hartley a journalist for the “North East Breeze” This was a weekly paper with mostly local color as its format. The stories took place in and around Little Hope, Pennsylvania, in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s
Northeast Breeze is a newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA covering local news, sports, business, jobs, and community events.
In December 2008, the Journal Register Company shut down the Northeast Breeze, both in print and online. The Northeast Breeze had been published weekly. Publisher J. Wesley Rowe Jr. cited the struggling economy and an unsuccessful attempt by the company to sell the newspaper as the reasons for the shut down
                       Old Days in North East by Ralph Hartley
A Vacant House
Seventy years have passed since the Thorntons moved from the old house on Wilson Road. It is now vacant, waiting to be demolished. For a time after Hi moved out the house was rented but rent was hard to collect so the dwelling was sold to Burdette Sweet. Burdette in due course sold to the Charles Lewis family, and it has remained in the Lewis hands until the present.
Of the 10 children who grew to maturity, best known was Burton who served Greenfield Township for several decades as supervisor and as road maintenance chief.
Ethel was an elementary teacher for 30 or more years, well liked where ever she taught. Lee, who looked after the family after Hiram died, got work at the General Electric in 1923 and was long time employee until he retired some years ago.
Beatrice married Emory Luke. Burlan moved to Lawrence Park. All did well. He and Mary had to time for frivolities, but they made sure their children were raised in the way they should go. Sundays were spent in church and Sunday School, with no fun and games. Hiram was a teacher in Sunday School.
Reading was permitted on Sunday, and there was a family library consisting of boys’ and girls’ books on religion, certain classics such as Robinson Crusoe, Last of the Mohicans, a few Alger books, a large family medical book (which saw a lot of use), history books, essay books, the Century Book of Facts published about 1900, and other books of miscellaneous nature. No book was ever thrown away and over the years an accumulation of several shelves was made.
Hiram served several terms on the Greenfield Board of Education. Next to Vern Raymond he was likely the best known in Greenfield.
The family was not without fun. They had a checkerboard, and played a type of card game called Flinch, and doubtless games of hide-and-seek, etc. For many years there were no musical instruments, but in late years, around 1917, Hi got a gramophone. It was the kind that had a brass hom and cylindrical records. This livened things a good deal.
While the kids did not get to the circus in Erie, there was the annual visit of Chief Rolling Thunder and his medicine show which set up a tent at Little Hope each summer. The Chief wore a headdress of feathers and buckskins. Hs tents were set along French Creek, and you could imagine that there were once again Indians living along French Creek.
Doc Finn kept them under his eye and was present at all their births for which his total bill was $65. He had lived just east on Finn Road. There does not seem to have been much sickness. Lee does not recall his mother ever being sick except in 1918 with the prevalent influenza. All recovered.
Mary had no time to be sick what with cooking, cleaning, ironing, washing, mending, sewing, canning, and supervising her brood. She canned more than 200 cans of fruit, vegetables, jams, jellies, etc.
The Thornton’s never made ice cream, so far as Lee remembers. But Vern Raymond’s store sold It and when they had a nickel they would go to the store on a hot summer day for a “treat”.
And when the home library needed spicier reading, Lee could visit Del Johnson and take home a few books on Buffalo Bill and other heroes. Del had quite a collection of adventure books, among others.
Lee was only 16 when he left Little Hope’s Wilson Road. He had made syrup in Yost’s woods to help the family breakfasts. He says it amounted to over 10 gallons a year, boiled on weekends in late winter.
` He learned to ride horses bareback and did a great many things that boys might like to do today. These 10 children living in an unheated upstairs (sometimes the living room door was left open on cold nights) with minimal luxuries, nevertheless remember the old frame dwelling fondly.
Dave Thornton and Mary Lou are cousins, being descended from Anson Thornton, Lee’s uncle. Amelia Ward and Alice Beeman were his aunts, as was Ada Crabb. Other children of Buel were Emma, John, and Jesse.

Fish tales

All though the service for Jim Karolides was a rueful occasion, it also had its lighter moments. Seeing and talking to many people, that I had not seen in many years was uplifting.

Which brings me to a conversation I had with Jay Karolides. His slant on our conversation was that as I enter my dotage, I am losing it. And my view is that he should consider politics, as he is certainly good at revisionary history.
One beautiful summer day, I took Jay fishing to one of my favorite spots. A tiny body of water known as Round pond, which drains into Chebaco Lake   bordering on Hamilton, and Manchester, Mass. The expectation was for three or four good hours of fishing before it got dark. Jay was only in grammar school at the time. But he was good at casting. He had spent many hours practicing his casting into the river at Calvin Putnam's lumber yard before it was turned into yuppieville. So before I could even get the oars out of the water, he made what is arguably one of the worst casts of all time. The lure went about twenty feet up and landed about six inches away from the boat. As luck would have there was a huge bass lurking right there. Jay’s rod immediately bowed in half and the battle was on. It appeared as if the fish was going to win the battle as Jay was sprawled over the gunnels, and appeared as though he was trying to get a drink of water. I grabbed him by his belt loops and yanked him back into the boat. He then proceeded to boat the monster, and was hooked on bass fishing for life. Now I was psyched and started casting like crazy in hopes of catching one just as big. But the next thing out of Jay’s mouth was, I don’t feel good uncle Herm, I want to go home. I pretended that I did not hear him. But after about fifteen minutes I gave in and took him home. The reason being of course was that he could not wait to show his family and friends the big fish he had caught. So somewhere in a Karolides scrapbook there is a picture of a beaming Jay and his fish. I believe it also lurks in the achieves at the Salem News.
That’s my story and I am sticking to it. For Jay’s heroic version you will have to talk to him!
In my last blog I spoke of a practical joker and his El Producto box of rabbit droppings. Well to continue the saga of this particular, practical joker. I, Carl Eaton and he were surf fishing for striped bass on Plum Island. After fishing all night, I fell asleep on the sun warmed sand. The next thing I know, Carl is vigorously shaking me awake. He is hollering, look at your rod. My rod is bowed over and vibrating, looking like it was going to be yanked right out of the rod stake. Still half a sleep I run over and grab my rod, pull back on it violently to set the hook. Expecting to feel the surge of a big bass, all I feel is dead weight. Carl is beside me jumping up and down, hollering is it a big one? I reply there is something there, but it does not feel too lively. As I pull in a completely scaled and gutted striper, I see a cigar chomping joker about fifty yards down the beach, holding a line that he had tied to mine. So delighted with himself it’s a wonder he did not piss his pants.

What a Maroon

When I was in high school, I was envious of the in-crowd. They seemed to be so well versed as to what was going on. So when ever I happened to wander to close to their atmosphere and got the look! I felt inferior and went slinking away. You know the look, all the different snob factions have their own particular look. I like to call it the holier than thou look. But it really is just another form of ignorance and bullying. Now that I am a big boy, I am proud to consider my self to be politically incorrect. And I long for the old days, when the news hour was actually about the news. It's hard to believe that the hordes of talking heads could have gone to high school. Let alone be in a clique. But their arrogance and ignorance would make them prime canidates to be in one. Can you believe? someone had the audacity to say "that team showed a chink in its armor" I guess that on cold days I better not say "there's a nip in the air" Or I will certainly be getting the look.
I have no qualms about giving people or nationalites a nickname. When I was a kid back in the forties and fifties almost every one, and all nationalites had a nickname. And it seems to me that we all got along just fine. Back then the do-gooders quietly did their thing. Unlike today ,it's just a lot of noisy nonsense.
Remembering how I felt about things when I was younger brings to mind an experience I had when I tried to fit into a different kind of faction.
I tried hunting when I was young. I loved wandering around the woods with my shotgun. But there was other parts of the experience , I did not care for. So I became know as the the world's worst shooter by my companions. So, on a beautiful late autumn day, with big fluffy snow flakes falling, one of my hunting companions kicked a Jupiter bush and a snowshoe hare came streaking out. As luck would have it, he ran right past me. So to continue my charade, I took a careful aim and fired two feet to his right. That's when the hare commited suicide by deciding to veer sharply to his right. Every one yelled great shot. Except for the person who had kicked the hare out of the brush. He just stared at me with a quizzical look on his face. The previous Christmas, the same person had gift wrapped a cigar box, that had rabbit droppings in it. There was a note saying "well he was here" This of course being a referance to my poor shooting reputation. The next time I saw this person. he squinted at me through the smoke from his Pall Mall and said. I suppose when you qualified on the firing range at Fort Dix. the targets kept jumping to the right. So as it turns out, he knew all along that I was pretending to be something I wasn't.


So as Bugs Bunny would say "what a moroon"


My nickname by the way was Pug!