History's Jigsaw Puzzle

Tracking down an unwritten history is like working a jigsaw puzzle - where all the pieces are playing hide-n-seek. Spent the morning at RHS. No particular objective. I have come to realize that in this small town where everything and everyone is connected to everything and everyone else, I might as well just go through and read everything.

Adeline Axtell ( who owned the driveway parcel) continues to be a mystery - altho there was plenty about her husband - the governer of the New Mexico territory - in the Cleveland Leader, November 5, 1878. After a lengthy tale of Axtell's western adventures, there is a final paragrph referring obliquly to the Oviatts. Then this: "One place of interest, which deserves more than a passing notice, is located at the foot of the hill upon which the West village is built. It is the cider mill, where the average Richfielder imbibes enthusiasm and patriotism. In proportion as the texture of the cider approaches that of a grindstone, the Richfield citizen becomes more patriotic. Much more might be written of this place, but lack of space and a great love of my fellow man bid me forbear."

The foot of the hill would be at Oviatt & 303, by the south entrance of camp. The cider press could have been across the street where the golf course is now - but there's that odd, unconnected reference to the Oviatts. So at first I thought this was a nice little mention of a place to get apple cider. But the more LInda and I talked about it, it feels like an "insider's" code. Kind of the way gossip columns used to hint at scandals without actually making an accusation. Maybe that last line is kind of a threat.

We know there was a sawmill behind the Oviatt farm house in 1834. Which mysteriously (and frustratingly) disappeared from the town records. Did they turn it into a cider mill - as in hard cider? The more the citizens drink, the more patriotic they become - as in generally more emotional? Hmmmmmmm. Well, it's a theory. But if these guys were running an unofficial tavern - maybe that will turn up in the archeology!

As usual, anytime anyone came in, Linda asked if they had any connection with the Girl Scout camp. Turns out that the reason Ed came in was to purchase on of the wooden millwheels from Green Cottage crafters that RHS still had on hand. It further turns out that Ed is one of our camp neighbors whose property adjoins Crowell HIlaka! We had a good time talking history & the need for kids to get out into nature.

Next - up to the Kirby Company on W. 114th to look through the last box of their archives. Most of the archives had been lost or destroyed and there is almost nothing left. The staff were very friendly and they set me up in a quiet room with a good cup of coffee. Tucked in between all the 1970's photos was three versions of this old picture:

There is no label, no name. The only context is that it was in the box of company photos. So its likely a group of employees. 1920's, early 30's? The guy in the front row 4th from the left in bow tie & jacket looks like it could be Kirby, and I would suspect a couple of the other front row bow tie guys are Scott & Fetzer, Kirby's business associates. I like to imagine that this is at camp. On the dam hill. We know that the Kirby Co held at least one picnic on camp land. But if that's a shadow of Kirby House on the far left, the giant oak tree is missing. Altho maybe it can't be seen from this angle. Or maybe this is a completly generic, insignificant hillside nowhere near the camp.

Not only are the jigsaw puzzle pieces hiding, but pieces from other puzzles are mixed in at random.
sigh. :-(

Lynn

History of the Outhouse

Even more than ghosts, the favorite fear of campgrounds to the uninitiated is......................the ominous outhouse (cue scarey music).

The dead of winter seems an appropriate time to tell outhouse stories. There was always the fear of dropping critical items down the hole. Especially your glasses. Or your flashlight. Or yourself. My biggest nightmare used to be that a monster from the depths would reach up and pinch me right when I was most vulnerable. Tips for outhouse issues will have to be a subject of a later article. For now, I present a historical perspective.
- Lynn

History Snippets: The Outhouse
by Ranch Harper
The Richfield Times
July, 1991

When electricity came to Richfield many people remodeled their homes to accomodate a bathroom. One old stalwart on a farm on Broadview Road north of town positively refused to install a bathroom in his home. He didn't think it right and proper to "do your business in the same house you ate in."

Modern day campers might think the pit toilets in many of today's campgrounds are similar to the old fashioned outhouse of yesterday. We old-timers can tell you - the only similarity is in the shape of the hole in the seat........

.......A couple of local carpenters have a little experience in outhouse construction. In Richfield's back.......A couple of local carpenters have a little experience in outhouse construction. In Richfield's back yard is Camp Julia Crowell, which belongs to the Cleveland Girl Scout Council. That 400-acre camp today encompasses the old Jim Kirby estate. Jim KIrby was the inventor of today's vacuum cleaner and is the uncle of Richfield's own Virginia Baumgardner.

It was the Buell Davidson Company that went into that undeveloped back country and constructed the first primitive outhouses for Camp Julia Crowell. In those days there were no electric lines running back there among the steep clefts and rocks with spring-fed streams and rocky hillsides covered with virgin timber and brush.

Harold Davidson and Johnny Gabriel were the carpenters assigned to construct those first nessessities. Harold said there were drawings or blueprints of the basic buildings to be constructed. Everything went fine until they discovered the prints did not show any specifications for the holes in the outhouse seats - nothing to indicate size, shape, beveled or sharp edges; no specs. Well, that didn't bother Harold who though usage in his younger days had acquired a "feel" for the proper size and shape for those old time nessessities. So Harold, taking saw in hand, proceeded to cut a beautifully bevel-edged hole of the proper shape and proportions. Johnny was profoundly amazed at what Harold had done and said, "What a memory, what a memory."

Benedict, but not Julia

I was all excited because I accidently found an entry on Benedict Crowell (husband of Julia Crowell)  in the encyclopedia of Cleveland history.  It cited its source as the Benedict Crowell file at the Western Reserve Historical Society.  So the next available moment, I was at WRHS library asking for the Crowell file.  I had just a limited time (lunch hour at work), so I decided to look at the picture file thinking there'd be a wedding picture.  There was NOTHING with Julia.  It was all military.  I feel unreasonablely grumble-some over it.  The librarien suggested that I contact the Cobb family (JC's maden name).  They are a prominent family - still around - may have something.  That may be - but it would be in a collateral line.  I may someday, when I get time.  I'm still chasing down Kirbys and Oviatts.

Real Cider

Dr. Alan Lee, an archeologist, wrote this in response to a history snippet:

Lynn,

Virtually all references to "cider" in C19th America, and elsewhere in the world to the present day, mean the somewhat alcoholic fermented juice of the apple.  The insipid apple juice that Americans buy as "cider" at the grocery store and serve to the kiddies at Halloween parties, is an artifact of prohibition times.  Today, sadly, so-called cider by law is pasturized by the producer beyond all possibility of fermenting into real cider.  It is illeagal for even the owner of a small orchard to market cider that is capable of fermenting.  I say this with regret because as a boy, in the late 1950s, I helped make cider with my grandfather, using our apples and our cider press, and still recall fondly the wonderful and changing complexity of flavors as the resulting beverage slowly aged and matured.

Just by coincidence, NPR ran an article on cider just recently.  Here is a reference:
http://www.npr.org/2010/12/15/132054630/cider-winter-kitchen-s-secret-weapon

Gives a whole new perspective on "Johnny Appleseed", don't you think?

Regards,

Al

Unauthorized!

I've mentioned before that when I visit the Richfield Historical Society on Tuesday mornings, there are usually people from the village dropping in. And that because Richfield is a small town and most of the families have been there forever, most of the people turn out to have some connection with Crowell Hilaka.

What I haven't mentioned before is that most of the men of a certain age grin sheepishly - then admit to having having snuck in. Or at least trying to. No names to be revealed - just historic trends.

One elderly gentleman liked to sneak over at night while the Kirbys still lived there. He liked to stop the millwheel from turning with his bare hands and then see how long it would take to start up again. Another guy confessed that he and his buddies would ride their bikes over to the camp before there was a fence, creep up to a tent unit, and make scarey animal noises. They considered it a triumph if they could get the girls to scream. Then they'd peel out on their bikes before getting caught. (I told that guy that he owed us. He agreed.)

All that changed once the fence was up. Today's informant liked slipping into the tank proving grounds on a regular basis. But he made it a point to check through the fence to see if there were any girls in view. Sometimes the girls were already up at the fence already, and they would talk. This was in the late 1950's and early 60's. I have never been able to pinpoint WHEN the fence was installed. But by getting rough dates and correlating them with the degree of male sneakage, it had to have been put up between the mid 1940's to late 1950's. The fence is so unusually heavy-duty for a GS camp even now, let alone fifty years ago. My guess is that it went up when the proving grounds came in. I would not be suprised to find out that it was paid for by the proving ground people - either the military or GM - as a condition of being able to locate so close to a girls' camp. But that's just my theory.

Today's informant spoke at length about the tank testing operations: The proving grounds were located in what is now Rising Valley Park. The entrance was on Newton instead of Oviatt. The tanks were built at the GM plant in Cleveland (now the I-X Center) and tested in Richfield because of the hilly terrain. At one point the tanks went down a hill into a creek. The water got to six feet deep and the tanks had to go all the way under and emerge on the opposite hillside without stopping.

Addendum to the apple story: When I told my dad about Neal Fruit Farm, he said when he was a kid during the second world war, he and the other kids in Bedford would get taken on a YMCA bus down to Richfield to pick fruit during the summer and on weekends. All the men were at war and even migrant workers weren't enough. He wasn't at Neal's himself, but somewhere nearby. The amazing thing? Not that Dad picked fruit, but that my own FATHER turns out to be one of the folks with an old-time Richfield Connection!

Apple Trees and Civil War Soldiers

The part of our camp that we are allowed to use was once a fruit farm.   The Neals ( who built the fancy houses)  ran the Neal Fruit Farm as a sideline.  The Giant Eagle next store started out as the Neal's "Country Counter".  In the mid 1800's, well before the Neals, it was the Freeman Fruit Farm, one of the largest orchards in Ohio.  Mrs. Freeman was the daughter of Nathaniel Oviatt, one of the first pioneer settlers in the village.  

So.....how did it all start?  I was wondering if there may have been a connection with Johnny Appleseed  (yes, he was a real person).   But altho Johnny may have made some contribution,  he worked mostly in the Massillon area when he was in Ohio.  The Freeman fruit came came from somewhere else - probably right next door.  

The land that the camp's long drive crosses has had some interesting owners.  The first recorded owner (1834 tax map) was Isaac Welton, Revolutionary War veteran and fruit farmer.  It was his family that carried varieties of Connecticut apples by covered wagon to Richfield.   From these, their family grew what became known as the Richfield Nonesuch Apple and the Welton Pie Apple.  These varieties were well enough known to be described in a mid-nineteeth century English booklet on American apples.   

The Richfield Nonesuch was very much a local claim to fame.   But it was small and tart,  and fell out of favor with large growers. I was in the Richfield Historical Society last week reading about how interest in the Nonesuch revived from time to time.  And each time, a few cuttings  of the historic trees were carefully grafted and nourished.  I mentioned to Linda that it would be cool to see one.  "Oh, c'mon then," she said. "I'm just about to lock up and get some lunch".  I tagged along with her across the street and into the neighbor's yard.  There were trees loaded with every color of apple.  "This one" she pointed out a tree loaded with bright pink and yellow apples.  We both munched into the Richfield Nonesuch.  Historic Research: Delicious!  

                                       *   *    *    *    *    *      *  

Back in the archive after lunch, Linda told me about some college undergrad coming in to research a couple of Civil War soldiers who were brothers.  Both died during the conflict, but one had kept a diary.  After his death, the family had the diary published.  The soldier's name was John Oviatt.  The name didn't ring a bell to me.  Not a surprise - considering that there were probably several hundred Ovaitt's in NE Ohio at the time.  But I poked through the introduction.    Lo, John's parents were Nathaniel & Julie - which made him the brother of Ruth Oviatt Freeman.   Yup, that's OUR girl!   

The Millwheel - 1972 - The Times, They Are A'Changin'

The 1970's were tough on Girl Scout identity.  

Millwheels through the 1950's & 60's had a jaunty tone.  The favorite topics were camping,  service projects, and the Dollaballoo. Leaders were almost always shown in full uniform - including the hat. 

Then bam!   1970. Cover articles start to worry about fundraising.   1971. Leaders begin to be shown out of uniform!!!!!!!!     1972.  Girl Scouts struggling to remain relevant.   A leadership conference includes these courses:  "Action Now - Ecology" ,  "Grassroots: Drugs and Sex" , "Women's Lib"   

The March 1972 issue has this headline :  "Suppose one of your girls said 'I am in real trouble' ?",  and gives sound advice on listening to and counseling girls with serious issues - including addiction and pregnancy.     

The same issue has an OK article about camp,  but the tone of the headline suggests that perhaps the old ways are .....well, maybe just a bit quaint, and perhaps even slightly embarrassing.      “ Why should Girl Scouts bother about camp? “ 

            " At camp there is time for making the winter day dreams come true. There is a chance to be independent:  and a chance to prove to yourself you’re as grown up as you think you are. New friends are there for the asking… maybe of a different religion or race, but still a sister Girl Scout. There are adventures to be found in the out of doors. There is no better place to learn the principles of conservation, the need for good housekeeping practices, and to try out the ideals of Girl Scouting. Camping can turn the dull hot summer into an exciting experience. Living out of doors is like wearing new shoes: the more you wear them, the more comforatble you feel.   Try it on for size.   From the smallest Brownie to the tallest leader there’s a place for you at camp. Remember, financial aid is available: check your camp folder for a campership application. "

Everything this writer says is true.  But do you notice that she is  working really hard to justify the value of camping?    We're not just talking  campfires and nature crafts here - we have positive race relations,  conservation,   proving you are grown up and independent.  Also the explanation that resident camp can be hard to get used to at first - like a pair of new shoes, but that it gets more comforatble.  

Does this sound familiar?   Doesn't it sound like us  - Trying to convince people that camp is worthwhile,  even in this time of radical social change ?

Yeah, I thought so, too.  The funny thing is that from the perspective of 40 years later,  we know that camping became wildly popular again in the 1980's & 90's .  Times change.   But the basics stay the same.

Lynn