At the southeast corner of the square we turn south for a block. On the left we first come to what was the site of David Jeffery’s home, harness shop and Pat Jeffery’s barbershop. Next are the Herman Newkum’s store, home, hotel, saloon and livery stable.
On the right would have been Taylor’s blacksmith shop. Next to it, and across the street from the Newkum Store, was the Goldsmith Store and home. Mr. Goldsmith had his own still and produced his own brand of whiskey.
We turn left and head east for a couple blocks. At the end of the first block on the right was the location of Joe Ross’s Boarding House and Dairy. Susie Hite Ross lived there. We Dad worked in Trenton he often went to her house for lunch. She told him many stories about the births. Dad said she was a kind and generous person who was very loyal to her friends. She was well known for helping out boys and girls who got in trouble.
The Methodist Church is on the right in the next block and then the location of Dr. Jay’s home and office. Later it was the location of John Deck’s home and blacksmith shop. Across the street north was Peter Hull’s blacksmith shop.
At the corner the building on the northeast part of the intersection is the Henry County Institute of Science. It was built in 1869 by George Miller and given to the people of Trenton. Miller died before the building was finished. The library on the second floor contained about 1200 volumes when it was discontinued in 1957. The first floor was used for public gatherings, elections, plays, and dances. The old records of the meetings state that they had trouble maintaining order at meetings and that in 1888 they purchased six spittoons from Goldsmith’s store for 35 cents each.
Dad and I entered this building once shortly before it was torn down. It was in bad shape by then and we were afraid to go upstairs because we thought it might fall in. It was clear, though, that this was a magnificent brick structure in its day. Dad had a picket from the wooden fence that had been around the building at one time and a brick from the structure itself. Both are still in the basement of my mother’s home.
We turn right and head south. On the immediate left is the location of Independence Square. It is the spot where our ancestor, Elder Joseph Goldsmith held the first Mennonite Church service in the home of Daniel Conard. The church was organized around 1852 or 1853.
We head south now out of Trenton. On the right we pass yet another home and office of one of Trenton’s early doctors. Then the big open area on the right owned by the Carpers for generations is the site of the only airplane landing in Trenton. A mail plane was forced to land there to make repairs. People from all over the area came to see it. It was fixed in a few hours and took off and then made one pass over the large crowd with an acknowledging dip of the wing.
In the open country now, we go down Brewster’s hill. Dad talks about how difficult it was for people to make it up the hill sometimes in the days when it was a mud road. On occasion, if nightfall came on, they had to spend the night at the Brewsters.
We head south on the blacktop past White Oak Church and cousin Russell’s house. We reach old highway 34 we turn left and head into Mt. Pleasant past the Country Club. This ride is over. We will go on a different ride another time. There are several others to tell about.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Rides XI
As we get to Trenton we come to a church on the south side of the road. It is now called the United Missionary Church. Prior to 1947 it was a Mennonite Church. Dads family occasionally attended this church when he was a little boy. I think this building was actually moved onto this lot at one time but don’t know the details. Dad recalled attending a giant tent meeting on the grounds of the church and he remembered there being someone there that had a wonderful singing voice.
We turn right at the corner and head south into town. On the left we pass the location of the home of one of the many doctors that practiced in Trenton over the years. This was where Dr. Gilfillan lived and practiced in a building just south of the house
At the next corner on the right is the location of G.M. Noel’s hotel and later on was Dr. Long’s home. On the left across the street is the location of Wilson’s Cabinet Shop. Dad adds that the guy also made caskets.
Across the street south is the Trenton square. The first building on the right is Jacob Morrison’s Store. It was also the post office, a restaurant and a hotel. The building is still there and it’s easy to imagine what it might have been like in the early 1900s.
Next, on the right is the location of the Presbyterian Church. It was built in 1841 and was replaced by a large structure in 1868. It is all gone now and not even a memory except in the minds of historians.
The place just south of the church lot was Hiram Deck’s blacksmith shop. It was a prosperous business until horses were replaced with cars and then it eventually was a gas station for a while owned by Fred and Ed Burkey.
On the far southwest corner of the square was the Leeper home and a doctor lived in that home at one time, too. South across the street was the location of the first school in Trenton. It was a log cabin built in 1839 or 1840.
Across the street east on the south side of the square is Jim Ackles barber shop. Then we come to Frank Johnson’s store and home. Right next door to the east Mr. Johnson had a saloon. Dad says it was a pretty unsavory place. On the southwest corner of the square was the building used as a restaurant, yet another doctor’s office and a spot where a medicine show often set up and Dad even remembers them showing silent movies in a tent on this lot.
Across the street on the southeast side at one time there was a post office and a store. The store was built by John Morrow. He sold it to the Felgers. They operated it for a while and sold it to Sam and Stacy Carper. A couple owners later Fred Pulver owned it. I can remember when there was a Pulver’s sign on the side of the building. Dad says there was a livery stable just north of the store.
We turn right at the corner and head south into town. On the left we pass the location of the home of one of the many doctors that practiced in Trenton over the years. This was where Dr. Gilfillan lived and practiced in a building just south of the house
At the next corner on the right is the location of G.M. Noel’s hotel and later on was Dr. Long’s home. On the left across the street is the location of Wilson’s Cabinet Shop. Dad adds that the guy also made caskets.
Across the street south is the Trenton square. The first building on the right is Jacob Morrison’s Store. It was also the post office, a restaurant and a hotel. The building is still there and it’s easy to imagine what it might have been like in the early 1900s.
Next, on the right is the location of the Presbyterian Church. It was built in 1841 and was replaced by a large structure in 1868. It is all gone now and not even a memory except in the minds of historians.
The place just south of the church lot was Hiram Deck’s blacksmith shop. It was a prosperous business until horses were replaced with cars and then it eventually was a gas station for a while owned by Fred and Ed Burkey.
On the far southwest corner of the square was the Leeper home and a doctor lived in that home at one time, too. South across the street was the location of the first school in Trenton. It was a log cabin built in 1839 or 1840.
Across the street east on the south side of the square is Jim Ackles barber shop. Then we come to Frank Johnson’s store and home. Right next door to the east Mr. Johnson had a saloon. Dad says it was a pretty unsavory place. On the southwest corner of the square was the building used as a restaurant, yet another doctor’s office and a spot where a medicine show often set up and Dad even remembers them showing silent movies in a tent on this lot.
Across the street on the southeast side at one time there was a post office and a store. The store was built by John Morrow. He sold it to the Felgers. They operated it for a while and sold it to Sam and Stacy Carper. A couple owners later Fred Pulver owned it. I can remember when there was a Pulver’s sign on the side of the building. Dad says there was a livery stable just north of the store.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Rides X
Merrimac had no church or cemeteries. For worship community members would have to go to Mt Ayr, Green Mound or one of the churches in Trenton. All of the churches in the area did use the easy river access at Merrimac for immersion baptisms from time to time. As our ride heads east we go up a long gradual hill. It is mostly made of sand deposited there over thousands of years.
A few miles down the road we come to Green Mound. The church is on the north side of the road and the cemetery is on the other. The white country church is a little larger than most and, I believe still has services. Dad has a three-ring notebook full of stories and history of all the old churches in the area.
Sometimes we stop here and walk through the cemetery just looking at stones and talking about the people who were there. My grandparents, Wilburn and Anna Ross are buried there along with uncles and one aunt. I am sure there are lots of cousins there, too.
One of our ancestors, John Stout, is buried here, too. It’s a simple small stone in the back of the cemetery. It’s significant because he is one of the very few Revolutionary solders buried in Henry County. The Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) approached us at one time about the females of the family joining since they qualified but don’t think Loretta or Nancy ever did. I guess our daughters and granddaughters could join if they ever wanted too. It was a status symbol at one time to be a member but I haven’t heard much about them for along time.
This is where the boy, David Zear, is buried. He was the one who died in the horrible accident in the mill at Merrimac. We stop at his broken stone and think of what horror he must have felt in those last moments. We send up a prayer for his soul and move on.
We pass the graves of the small children who were victims of diphtheria and wonder how things might have been different had they survived. We pass the graves of the children from the family that allegedly was cursed by the Merrimac Witch and think of how superstitious people can be.
It seems like Dad has known many of the people here. I ask him if he would want to be buried here and to my surprise he says no. He says all of his friends are in Mt. Pleasant and besides him and Mom have already paid for a spot there. Then he says he’d rather not think about stuff like that, anyway.
We walk back to the car and head east toward Trenton. Just west of town he points to a small grove of trees on the right and says that’s Ben’s thicket. It was much larger years ago. Dad says it was a congregating spot years ago for many of the men of Trenton. It is where they went to smoke, drink and gamble. He has many stories about that spot although he says he was never personally there.
Trenton is the next stop.
A few miles down the road we come to Green Mound. The church is on the north side of the road and the cemetery is on the other. The white country church is a little larger than most and, I believe still has services. Dad has a three-ring notebook full of stories and history of all the old churches in the area.
Sometimes we stop here and walk through the cemetery just looking at stones and talking about the people who were there. My grandparents, Wilburn and Anna Ross are buried there along with uncles and one aunt. I am sure there are lots of cousins there, too.
One of our ancestors, John Stout, is buried here, too. It’s a simple small stone in the back of the cemetery. It’s significant because he is one of the very few Revolutionary solders buried in Henry County. The Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) approached us at one time about the females of the family joining since they qualified but don’t think Loretta or Nancy ever did. I guess our daughters and granddaughters could join if they ever wanted too. It was a status symbol at one time to be a member but I haven’t heard much about them for along time.
This is where the boy, David Zear, is buried. He was the one who died in the horrible accident in the mill at Merrimac. We stop at his broken stone and think of what horror he must have felt in those last moments. We send up a prayer for his soul and move on.
We pass the graves of the small children who were victims of diphtheria and wonder how things might have been different had they survived. We pass the graves of the children from the family that allegedly was cursed by the Merrimac Witch and think of how superstitious people can be.
It seems like Dad has known many of the people here. I ask him if he would want to be buried here and to my surprise he says no. He says all of his friends are in Mt. Pleasant and besides him and Mom have already paid for a spot there. Then he says he’d rather not think about stuff like that, anyway.
We walk back to the car and head east toward Trenton. Just west of town he points to a small grove of trees on the right and says that’s Ben’s thicket. It was much larger years ago. Dad says it was a congregating spot years ago for many of the men of Trenton. It is where they went to smoke, drink and gamble. He has many stories about that spot although he says he was never personally there.
Trenton is the next stop.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Rides IX
Before we leave Merrimac there are a couple more stories to tell and many that will have to wait for another time. Merrimac once had a blacksmith shop, two hotels, a carpenter house, a millinery shop, a photography shop, a general store and many other houses and buildings as well as the mill that I have written about already.
My Dad grew up hearing stories about the Merrimac Witch. She was a real person who lived near the community. She came from Germany and was sometimes called Granny Dutch. They claimed she had the gift of second sight and could tell people where to find things they had lost. She died at the age of 99 years in 1879. That was long before my Dad was born in 1908 but many people remembered her and told him stories about her when he was young.
Among other things, they said Granny Dutch had the ability to put a hex on people and did so to a family with five children. There were four boys and one beautiful blond girl. The parents were very proud of their children but all of them got diphtheria. Three of the boys and the girl died. People blamed it on the Merrimac Witch. When that family moved to a farm their barn burned. That, too, they blamed on the witch. They eventually moved away.
Of course the woman was really not a witch but stories about her were told for generations. Overtime, as with all stories, I am sure they were greatly embellished.
* * *
The land around Merrimac is low and wet in the spring. It was sometimes very difficult for farmers to get crops in because the equipment was primitive compared to what they have today. Just southeast of Merrimac a small stream meandered through the bottom ground. (The old streambed is actually still evident if you look at the area with Google Earth.)
The landowner decided that straightening the stream would allow the water to get away from the area quicker and allow him to farm it much easier and timely. He tried to do it himself but it was just too big of a task. He eventually hired a man who had a steam engine and a dragline.
Even with that equipment the work was slow and muddy. After about six months the fellow gave up with the job half finished but wanted paid for what he had done. The landowner refused and there was quite a dispute about the issue. Dad thought it actually went to court but didn’t know how it turned out. The equipment sat in the field until spring when it was finally removed.
A second man with similar equipment was hired to finish the job. After a great struggle he did and the straight channel is evident today. In more recent years the fields have been tiled and drain to that ditch.
As we head out of Merrimac that is usually the last story Dad tells about the place. Green Mound Cemetery is the next stop.
My Dad grew up hearing stories about the Merrimac Witch. She was a real person who lived near the community. She came from Germany and was sometimes called Granny Dutch. They claimed she had the gift of second sight and could tell people where to find things they had lost. She died at the age of 99 years in 1879. That was long before my Dad was born in 1908 but many people remembered her and told him stories about her when he was young.
Among other things, they said Granny Dutch had the ability to put a hex on people and did so to a family with five children. There were four boys and one beautiful blond girl. The parents were very proud of their children but all of them got diphtheria. Three of the boys and the girl died. People blamed it on the Merrimac Witch. When that family moved to a farm their barn burned. That, too, they blamed on the witch. They eventually moved away.
Of course the woman was really not a witch but stories about her were told for generations. Overtime, as with all stories, I am sure they were greatly embellished.
* * *
The land around Merrimac is low and wet in the spring. It was sometimes very difficult for farmers to get crops in because the equipment was primitive compared to what they have today. Just southeast of Merrimac a small stream meandered through the bottom ground. (The old streambed is actually still evident if you look at the area with Google Earth.)
The landowner decided that straightening the stream would allow the water to get away from the area quicker and allow him to farm it much easier and timely. He tried to do it himself but it was just too big of a task. He eventually hired a man who had a steam engine and a dragline.
Even with that equipment the work was slow and muddy. After about six months the fellow gave up with the job half finished but wanted paid for what he had done. The landowner refused and there was quite a dispute about the issue. Dad thought it actually went to court but didn’t know how it turned out. The equipment sat in the field until spring when it was finally removed.
A second man with similar equipment was hired to finish the job. After a great struggle he did and the straight channel is evident today. In more recent years the fields have been tiled and drain to that ditch.
As we head out of Merrimac that is usually the last story Dad tells about the place. Green Mound Cemetery is the next stop.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Rides VIII
My father was a deeply religious person and although we attended the Presbyterian Church in Mt. Pleasant, he maintained close ties with his Mennonite roots. He visited family members and friends in the church and had a great respect for their beliefs. The gentleness and compassion of the followers had a great influence on Dad.
He didn’t have much respect, however, for what he called the hell, fire and brimstone ministers that we sometimes saw on TV and occasionally in person. He didn’t think it was in any way Christian to scare people into following Jesus.
In Merrimac there was a large area south of the houses that served as a park, campground for travelers, and the site of many tent revival meetings. For years families from miles around would gather to hear the evangelists speak. They would sometimes have a nightly service for weeks. When he was young, Dad’s family attended many of these.
He said the kids often played outside until after dark while the services went on and on. He remember peeking under the tent and seeing and hearing the shouting and raving of the passionate speakers. It terrified him! I think that had a lot to do with the way he felt about that type of religion when he grew up. That and for years we were on the same block with a Baptist parsonage and witnessed some pretty unchristian behavior.
Stories about tent evangelist’s visits to Merrimac are well documented. Sometimes they stayed for weeks.
Here is an interesting account from the August 15, 1894 edition of the Fairfield Tribune.
“We attended the camp meeting Sunday afternoon at Merrimac. There was a large crowd of people to hear the lady evangelist, and quite a number claim to have been cured of bodily diseases. The meeting is creating quite an excitement. The banks of the Skunk River present a variety of scenes. There are a lot of Gipsy campers in all their filth and dirt, and then next are those who have pitched their tents to take an outdoor recreation. Everything looks clean and nice. Then on the opposite side of the river, is the large tabernacle. This is one of the finest tents we ever saw, well seated, with a large platform for the ministers.”
This article apparently prompted others to visit Merrimac and a later edition of the Tribune (August 22) carries an amusing account.
“Tuesday of this week Messrs. George Dahlman and Alex Easton, accompanied by their wives, drove over to Merrimac to visit the faith curing evangelist, Mrs. M. B. Woodworth, who had been holding forth there for the past two weeks. Their opinion is that there is a good deal of buncombe about the cures, and that Mrs. Woodworth is a good deal more interested in coaxing people to part with their dollars than causing them to part with their diseases.”
And then there is Mrs. Art Salzman’s account of this same evangelist.”
“There were tent meetings for several years, but the most popular evangelist was this Mrs. Woodworth in 1894 She was a healer and everyone has his special story of her miracles. One night she announced that on a certain day, she would part the waters of the Skunk and walk over on dry land. The day arrived, and so did everyone from miles around. The mill yard was filled and horses tied to the fences for at least a half-mile in every direction. The man in charge of the store had sent to Oskaloosa for pop in bottle with corks that pushed in instead of pulling out. He had other supplies and was ready to feed the multitude. It was just as well that something had been provided, for Mrs. Woodworth came out with all her dramatic fervor and announced, according to my reporter that the spirits weren’t right, and she would not be able to part the waters that day.”
Dad said the next morning the evangelist, tent and all, was gone.
He didn’t have much respect, however, for what he called the hell, fire and brimstone ministers that we sometimes saw on TV and occasionally in person. He didn’t think it was in any way Christian to scare people into following Jesus.
In Merrimac there was a large area south of the houses that served as a park, campground for travelers, and the site of many tent revival meetings. For years families from miles around would gather to hear the evangelists speak. They would sometimes have a nightly service for weeks. When he was young, Dad’s family attended many of these.
He said the kids often played outside until after dark while the services went on and on. He remember peeking under the tent and seeing and hearing the shouting and raving of the passionate speakers. It terrified him! I think that had a lot to do with the way he felt about that type of religion when he grew up. That and for years we were on the same block with a Baptist parsonage and witnessed some pretty unchristian behavior.
Stories about tent evangelist’s visits to Merrimac are well documented. Sometimes they stayed for weeks.
Here is an interesting account from the August 15, 1894 edition of the Fairfield Tribune.
“We attended the camp meeting Sunday afternoon at Merrimac. There was a large crowd of people to hear the lady evangelist, and quite a number claim to have been cured of bodily diseases. The meeting is creating quite an excitement. The banks of the Skunk River present a variety of scenes. There are a lot of Gipsy campers in all their filth and dirt, and then next are those who have pitched their tents to take an outdoor recreation. Everything looks clean and nice. Then on the opposite side of the river, is the large tabernacle. This is one of the finest tents we ever saw, well seated, with a large platform for the ministers.”
This article apparently prompted others to visit Merrimac and a later edition of the Tribune (August 22) carries an amusing account.
“Tuesday of this week Messrs. George Dahlman and Alex Easton, accompanied by their wives, drove over to Merrimac to visit the faith curing evangelist, Mrs. M. B. Woodworth, who had been holding forth there for the past two weeks. Their opinion is that there is a good deal of buncombe about the cures, and that Mrs. Woodworth is a good deal more interested in coaxing people to part with their dollars than causing them to part with their diseases.”
And then there is Mrs. Art Salzman’s account of this same evangelist.”
“There were tent meetings for several years, but the most popular evangelist was this Mrs. Woodworth in 1894 She was a healer and everyone has his special story of her miracles. One night she announced that on a certain day, she would part the waters of the Skunk and walk over on dry land. The day arrived, and so did everyone from miles around. The mill yard was filled and horses tied to the fences for at least a half-mile in every direction. The man in charge of the store had sent to Oskaloosa for pop in bottle with corks that pushed in instead of pulling out. He had other supplies and was ready to feed the multitude. It was just as well that something had been provided, for Mrs. Woodworth came out with all her dramatic fervor and announced, according to my reporter that the spirits weren’t right, and she would not be able to part the waters that day.”
Dad said the next morning the evangelist, tent and all, was gone.
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