By: Stan Jordan
I just got back from a trip to Philadelphia to see my old buddy Ben Franklin. All the talk around there is about the coming Revolutionary War.
My other old buddy, Juan Valdez, was there also, you know he is the guy that rides the burrow and sells coffee. He is something like a front man for the coffee people. The first night we had a table at the Red Bull, an old type English pub. The main refreshment there is Grog.
In between a lot of stories, or wild tales, grog is served by the pint in a pewter mug.
Of course a number of Ben’s girlfriends were all around him and he was telling about his latest trip to Paris and some unlikely stories of him and Madam Pompedoor.
After a few pints of grog and a number of Ben’s tall tales of romance, I started to drink coffee with Juan Valdez. A lot of those folks had never drank coffee, usually tea.
There were a lot of the Green Mountain Boys there. Those are the farmer types Infantry from up north.
If these soldiers can fight like they can drink, we will win that war with the British.
Because a lot of the customers were soldiers, the pub stayed open very late and Juan and I decided to go to bed somewhere. Because of the late hour there was no room at the inn, so Juan and I slept with the burrow in the delivery stable.
Before we left, Ben was dealing with one of the ladies for a place to sleep.
See ya!
AUTO BY OTTO: 2
Memories
As it seems to me now, we could see gulls at anytime flying about the boat. On Friday morning about 9 a.m. Sept. 1 we caught the first glimpse of New York. We docked about 11 a.m. after passing through custom house where our belongings was searched, we again were herded into small groups, each one with a number tied about his neck. Ours was no. 8. Men carrying banners bearing large numbers would come along and we were told by signs and otherwise to follow the banner bearing our number, about seven o’clock that evening we were put aboard our train leaving for Ohio. Nothing to eat since breakfast aboard the ship I was just about starved. Mother had bought a link of bologna of which I ate my share. Mother being to tired and sick to eat. We rode all night, on Saturday mother bought some oranges so we each had an orange the she divided the rest of the bologna. That was the menu for Saturday. Sometime during Saturday night or early Sunday morning we arrived at Toledo. It was here that I saw my first electric street car. We left Toledo about on our final leg of our journey, we arrived in Antwerp about 9 a.m. Sunday- Sept 3- 1893, tired and hungry. We were met at the station by Henry George Sr. who at that time had a grocery store in the brick building on the west side of Main Street adjoining the railroad on the north. He had been asked to keep watch for us. A three-seated spring wagon took us over to the house of my uncle John F. Miller, with whom my father had made his home since his arrival, our guide on the trip was Henry George Jr.
After the usual greeting a meal was prepared and I can’t recall of ever eating a meal that tasted so good, my first piece of apple pie was eaten at that time. After I was filled up, I was ready to explore. Our first trip was back of the barn on the farm of J.F. Miller the woods started at the barnyard, saw and ate my first wild grapes. we then went north to the creek that was through his farm and which was dry at this time of the year, we followed it 80 rods west, during that time I killed 13 snakes, garter-black snakes a ribbon of snakes. this creek was at the head of the old six mile reservoir, which was located just east and south of Antwerp. At the time when this reservoir was drained this ditch was dug to drain that pair of swamp extending to the Indiana state line.The soil was very fertile, the black muck two and three feet deep, was covered with button wood or beaver brush, wild cane, flag and swail grass. Our first year was spend in clearing this muck land, we formed in large logs, buried completely in this muck, many of them well preserved, smaller logs and chunks plainly showed the rounded cut of the beaver, which proved that the beaver was common here at one time but I can’t recall of ever hearing any of the old hunters saying about catching beaver so evidently this wood had been preserved for perhaps a century or more.
Although this land at that time had been drained for about 6 years it was common to plow up large snapping turtles buried in this muck, snakes were also very common, being mostly garter snakes, or water snakes, milk snakes, ribbon snakes, a few red bellies and an occasional Blue race, the ribbon snake, as I recall, seemed the most common of all, two to three feet long and very slender. Our first crop in this muck usually was onions and potatoes and what potatoes very large and usually hollow, some of them weighing from two to three pounds each. What they made up in size they lacked quality. For the first four years we made our home across the road from the farm home of my uncle J.T. Miller. A week after arriving in this country I started to school at the Overmeyer School near our house, it was fortunate for me that my first teacher, E.D. Murphy was able to speak some German, so we got along just fine. It was rather embarrassing for sometime while I was getting started, to have the other pupils about my age and for that matter all the pupils in the room, (this being a one room country school where children from 5 years to well over 20 years of age all sat in one room) I don’t think there was any studying in the room while I recided my lessons, in Germany we went to school 6 days a week the year round, with perhaps 4 weeks vacation during the year and at my age I was much farther ahead in my education than the children of my age were over here, but in order to get the right start I had to start in with the first reader, and although I could read it I didn’t know what I was reading but it take long, in my first term I went through the first, second and third reader and was caught up with the youngest of my age. I recall that I was promoted more during my second and third term of school than the rest of my class mates, because the lessons were all so easy to me that I didn’t need to do any studying and had more time on my hands to get into mischief, my favorite past time was shooting paper wads on the end of the ruler, many a half hour did I stand in the corner and in some more severe cases when on of my wet paper wads smacked some one on the head when I thought the teacher’s head was turned in such cases it was generally that the teacher drew a circle upon the black board about the right height for my nose when standing on my toes. And there I had to stand, nose in the circle, tip toes and my back to the room. I always resolved then that I would shoot no more paper wads, but the temptations were too great, while some of my class mates were working hard with their slate and pencil to work some of the arithmetic problems that I had already finished and when the teacher’s back was turned, smack! Someone got a juicy wad! The teacher would always look right at me, and right then and there I was convicted. After my third term I only got to go to school 3 to 3 1/2 months out of the year, husking corn to about December, then about the first of March I had to start picking up chunks and piling brush to get the new land cleared and ready for farming the coming spring. During this time, about 1896, in October a neighbor of ours, Sam Hetrick, asked my folks for me to go along on a trip to Fremont, Ohio for company. I don’t believe I ever will forget it. This trip was made with an old team of horses and a large wagon, we left about3 o’clock in the morning and driving until after dark we spend the first night in Napoleon, Ohio a trip that now can be made in less than an hour, this was a very interesting trip. Our route after leaving Defiance was along the old Wabash Canal which at that time was still being used, the boats being pulled by mules walking on the banks of the canal, at this time it seems like very slow transportation. I don’t remember what the boats were loaded with. It took us nearly three days to make the trip on our return home we come by way of Bowling Green through oil fields that were just booming about this time. Activity was everywhere, drilling and pumping it seem now that there was a derrick on every acre of land. It took us nearly three days for the return trip and I certainly enjoyed every day of it.
Baseball and I
By: Stan Jordan
On Saturday, May 13th, I was given the honor of throwing in the first baseball of the Antwerp Little League 2017 ball season.
It was the first real nice day for a long time and there was hundreds of people at the Little League Ball Diamond. Lots of little ball players, older ones, moms and dads and lots of grandparents also.
I had a speech ready, but I forgot to say it, so I will just give it now.
“With the throwing of this ball, the 2017 Antwerp Baseball season is officially opened..Play Ball!”
There was a few minutes of history of baseball in Antwerp by Becky Keys. She has done a fine job of collecting data and memorabilia of baseball right here in Antwerp. That was very interesting as I knew some of the original Antwerp Reds ball players.
Before television arrived, some of the hours of entertainment here locally was filled in by watching baseball, softball, fast and slow pitch. Yes that was a couple of eras gone by. I love to sit and let my mind wander back to some of those night and day games. Maybe our living pace was slower then, but it sure leaves a lot of fine memories.
I was very impressed my how nice the entire ball park looked. The concession stand and all the fixtures were all painted up nice, the diamonds were all dragged and limed. In short, the officers and the volunteers of the Antwerp Ball Association really done a fine job. I am very proud to be a part of today’s history.
I want to thank Jeff Cline, the president of the association, for all of his help on that Saturday. Let me tell you a little history of the Cline boys. There were four boys who lived on my route and attended Antwerp High School. One of the boys, Eddie, was a very good baseball pitcher. He went on and was affiliated with the major leagues. He lives over by Oakwood now. Eddie is Jeff’s uncle, so baseball runs in Jeff’s blood. There were four Cline boys, Eddie, Richard, Jim and David.
We had a number of families that was big in baseball. The Carrs, the Reebs, the Billmans, the Lichty’s, the Schilbs’, the Donell’s, yes I could go on and on.
I hope that old timers can look down and see the beautiful ball park. It is something to be proud of.
See ya!
Sam Rivers, Indian Agent Chapter 33: Getting Sam To The Fort
By: Stan Jordan
As soon as Rooster arrived and before he could talk, Callie pulled him over to the barn and showed him the situation they were in.
Rooster was a lot cooler than Callie and he knew it was up to him to take charge and do all the work and make all the plans to take Sam over to Fort Kearney to see an army doctor.
First Rooster said, “I will take and fasten a rope from the team to that bear’s back legs and drag him out to the garden area. Maybe the wolves and other animals will clean him up and leave Sam’s winter meat alone.” It is a moonlit night and that helped because Callie has the lantern in the house rounding up the bear skins and blankets to make Sam a bed in the wagon.
Rooster hooked up that team to the wagon and put a lot of hay in the wagon bed to make a softer bed for Sam. Rooster fed and watered his horse, Rocket, and let him rest a bit.
Rooster got Sam into the wagon, but Sam didn’t move a muscle or make any noise. Sam is not dead, but he sure acts like it.
Callie made two pots of coffee and fixed Rooster two deer meat sandwiches and a number of cups of coffee. The rest of the coffee and cookies are for the trip to Kearney, which is about 70 miles.
Callie kept busy and then asked Rooster, “What else do I need to take?”
“Well, I would take plenty of clothes for a few days for each of you. I think you should take some baby clothes, also, as you never know.”
They emptied all the water buckets, put out the fire, loaded the little one–burner oil stove and coffee pot. They both stood and named everything they would need, and knew if it was packed.
After a last minute check, Callie told Rooster how glad she was that he came along. She had no idea what she would have done without his help and guidance. They got started around nine o’clock. Thank goodness there was a bright moon.
Callie laid down in the wagon with Sam for a while but the frozen trail made it too bouncy for her, so Rooster fixed her up with a bear skin and another one for her to sit on.
Again she told the soldier, “I don’t know what I would have done without you. God answered my prayers.”
They plodded along for hour after hour and Rooster said, “Let’s stop now and let the horses rest and have some coffee and cookies.” They did that as soon as they forded the Loup River.
They started south now, heading for the Fort. It’s getting daylight now.
Callie had dozed off a couple of times and leaned up against Rooster for support. After a few more hours of bouncing they could see the Fort in the distance still a couple of miles, but it sure was a welcome sight as it was getting dark out.
See ya!
The above is a picture of a good sized tree that a beaver has been gnawing on. This tree is on a ditch that empties into the Maumee River over in Crane Twp. This is not a sapling, it is a full size tree.
The DNR will have to admit there are the original North American beaver living along the Maumee River watershed.
We have received reports of trees being gnawed my beavers all the way from Delaware Bend on up past Fort Wayne into that marsh area, west of North American Van Lines.
I received a report this morning that they are having trouble with the beavers all the way to Toledo. Here of late, hardly a day goes by that we don’t hear about beaver damage.
I was talking with Mark Feasby the other day and he says that he knows of a couple of fellows who work at B.F. Goodrich and live over in Indiana that have been trapping beaver for the last three or four years. But it is just now coming to me that the beavers have been in the area for quite a spell.
See ya!
