For the rest, you are still seventeen or eighteen. When I sit in my recliner and think on one of you, you have never grown older. Time has been gentle to you in my memory.
I hear of those who have suffered too soon deaths. You were taken in your prime! It's not fair that those still ingrained in my mind are gone. Upon hunting Davidson's History of Coatesville I saw that Jerri Bryant Wingler had appended it. I soon found that she was gone. Then I thought of my good friend Phil Wingler. He too was gone! Then Jeannine Guthrie, David Hill and even Gene Hill. You all died too young, but your memory lives.
I can still see Jerri's smile, Phil's frown, David's smirk and Gene's red face with flared temper. It's not old people I see; it's young 1960s Jerri's, Phils and Hills. The deaths of these friends bring back my memories of my first friend who died. It was when I was about thirteen.. It was terrible, not only for a good family, but for me as well. Mona Sue Johnson was taken when a teen. That seems so unfair, but maybe living is where we're cheated!
Mona was a beautiful blonde-haired girl with shoulder length hair. She was trim and always smiling even when she caught us young folks thinking improper thoughts. Suddenly a tumor was more than she could bear and she succumbed to death's toll. The entire town was sad! Even I was so sad that I couldn't go to the funeral. I cried in private, not wanting my own buddies to see my tears. It was a sad time and now with those who have preceded me, it's the same feeling of helplessness and despair which engulfs. Inner tears flow for them all since with age they are more difficult to beacon. Those who were, are not now, and regardless of their faults or attributes, they're all now only memories... good memories!
We all have memories of Coatesville, at least for those who grew up there. Don Wood shared his memories. Let's see how they compare with yours..
"I loved growing up there. I mean all the business. There, wow, it was booming when I was a kid and sitting waiting on the buses to go through, all the friends, I mean, no TV until I was 11, and really no phone. We had a party line with a lot of chat so the best way was going out the back door to see if Woody Hadley or Nancy Hadley or Vickie West or maybe Steve Trump was out. Wow... all the ball games ,slips, basket ball down at the park and then we had a very large garden and the RR. I hunted berries back the plus, yes the mushrooms and rabbits, and if I got lucky would pick off a couple of quail. I had traps set in the winter, but hell, you could always find someone out, and then build a fort and the snowball fights would start. LOL, and we loved to have JD Elliot (Ellett); we called him "Doc" on our side or Jerry Sanders because both had great arms. So any way I can help holler. I love that town."Don had fun in Coatesville. You can tell by the excitement he continues to express. What he shared there are the same memories most of us had! It wasn't Vegas, but happiness isn't defined by bright lights and the bustle. Happiness is camaraderie, simplicity, an ameliorating existence, and the opportunity to learn, not by teaching, but by experiencing!
Coatesville was a poor town. Even those who were rich were ordinary so that there wealth wasn't seen by most, or they were such good people that the common person never was aware of any social classes! Jack Gambol comes to mind. He was one of the most wealthy men in town, but his attire was that of a common man. Many weren't aware of his wealth because Jack always was just one of us. Of course it was rumored that he had wealth, but there was no proof because he didn't wear the badge of wealth. Perhaps his wealth was more than what he had, but in his relationship with the community. Jacks' ancestors were early settlers of Coatesville and when I think of him, his name means Coatesville.
Those who become leaders are never perfect. Each have faults. None can throw that stone because we are equally imperfect. We can still admire people who do well even thought deep down we're all alike. It's a dream of ours that we each think less of our own wrongs than the wrongs of others, and for justice, it's a fair scale which we are to use. Some are jealous of those who are wealthy or successful, but for those who're not jealous, the path is more smooth.
Jealousy is a common human trait. Only God can rightfully be jealous, but men try it too. Inside, buried deeply within each of us is what God is jealous of. It's our self which we all cling to, display, worship and love. By nature we are jealous of what others have or whom others are! In Coatesville I never sensed that people were jealous. I never sensed different classes of people. Sure, some had better lives due to their own work ethic and business minds, but they were always most genuine to me,
Several wealthy women in town employed my own mom in domestic work. As they did they befriended her and part of that friendship is employing. There can be a fine friendship between the servant and the served and it happened many times for my family. For me, I served Buck Arnold, Thaddeus Bridges, Hoot Gibson, Joe Davidson, Woody Darnell, and many others who gave me odd jobs and for whom I mowed, put up hay, farmed and did odd jobs.
On a socio-economic scale most of you were on equal footing with me. We were poor together, but each felt "I'm more poor than he is!" It seemed to be an honor to not have things, and indeed, "not having" is a great incentive for success. I see poverty as a training ground for success because those who haven't experienced poverty can't fully appreciate success! That's the epitome of what Coatesville was for most. There was virtually one class of people. They were good people, not religious really, but with a degree of religiosity. They were good enough to befriend and good enough to love, but like all weak humans, there were some who sinned openly and others in secret.
Reputations are important especially in small towns. When we moved there, the wooden crank telephone was still in use. Beside the Cities Service was a switchboard. The Beamans lived there and ran the switches. When a caller made the call, the crank was turned to summon the operator. I assume it was Mrs. Beaman, but maybe not. We did call her by name, but it's been a long time!
Donna Archer Roberts provided the following regarding the Beaman's and her family:
"...We lived in the old house and when the new one was built we moved in to it. Liz [Beaman] worked for my Mother Mildred at the switchboard, and I think later they did live there after we went back to Amo. Beamans lived in the South end of town when we lived at the switchboard. My Dad Warren (aka Zeke) worked on the telephone lines. Mildred was the switchboard operator."[brackets mine].The caller would say "Ring Hope for me." and that was all that was needed! She would then ring Hope Hanlon, for instance, and the conversation would start.
On the other hand, if one received a call, it was necessary to listen for the ring; a specific ring. Ours was "two longs and a short"... Ring________, Ring_________, Ring_, for instance. It was necessary to have the specific rings because most people had party lines early on. Sometimes a neighbor would say "Aren't you through yet" I've got to call Joe.". It was like having mama two doors down! Often it was three or four families which shared the line unless money was paid for a private line.
With that type of system it was worse than Facebook is now! The "grapevine" was electronic then as well. Sometimes neighbors eavesdropped. It was a form of entertainment! People pleasure in the passions of others as well as a secret thrill out of seeing bad neighbors in distress. Our neighbors were all good people so I didn't care if any listened as I talked.
At the time I moved away the drama "Peyton Place" was in vogue. Like the naked city there were a million stories in Peyton Place. Coatesville had it's Peyton Place and many know all about it. The grapevine was short due to the Beaman connection, but sometimes old wrongs need to suffer death. Things of years past just need to linger in the webs of the dead, Some stories will never reach my keyboard to forgive and forget what happened so long ago!
Sure we had our characters! We had our Otis Campbell, but he's now moldering back to dust. I'm sure other Otis's replaced him, but that's for future writers of forgotten lore. Although we had our Otis Campbells, few, even Mayberry, had their Van Montgomery. If he has relatives remaining, this does't attempt to besmudge him because he was well-liked. Van was always "uptown" someplace because it was hard to be anyplace else! I forget exactly where he lived, but it was the north end of town. Van spent much time, because he was retired, loafing at the gas stations and stores. Van's M.O. was to shock! He did crude and nasty things "just for the fun of it"!
I remember one time before the Salsman Variety Store when it was a restaurant. It was adjacent to the north to Brown's Drugstore where many bottles of Mil-kay Soda was drank and Marvel cigarettes were purchased for 18 cents. I forget who ran the restaurant, but it was pretty good! Well, Van came in and joined a few of us to eat. When he took a bite of soup, he said "There was a worm in my soup!" He then stuck out his tongue and a redworm was clearly seen. We all gagged. Nasty got us again! That's the behavior why we called him Nasty, but he was a friendly old guy who just loved a good joke for shock value.
I mentioned the Beamans. I remember few of them except for Warney. I suppose now that Warney was probably short for "Warren", but who knows? Warney may have been the spark for the Fonz on "Happy Days". They were exactly the same. Of course we all wore Fonz hair before Fonz came along, but Warney wore skin tight pants with legs so tight they had zippers to get his feet in! Of course he set the rebel pattern for us, Most of us kids wore T-shirts just like Warney and rolled our unfiltered Camel cigarettes in one sleeve. Warney just disappeared, but when he did his pretty cousin from Indy took his place. Sandi Beaman, perhaps Sandy. Colby Johnson was her paramour and he won out. I apologize Joyce Burnette Johnson for bringing this up, but that's what happened!
Of course, Sandi brought a summer friend with her. It was Kathy Kladden. She was superb and also from Indy. She was a year older than I was, but I had pride riding my 16-year old girlfriend on my handlebars as we did then; with no helmet even! Well, when she was wooed by Jackie Witt, I lost my flame. He was older and had a car. Jack is gone now where we're all soon to go. Kathy didn't come back so we both lost!
Coatesville and Hendricks County has always been a Republican stronghold. How could it be anything less with the category of citizens who lived there. Of course the backbone of Republicanism in this county goes back to what is wrongfully called the "Civil War". Let me explain. Civil Wars are wars of citizens of the same country. Rightfully, I'll have to agree with the south on this one! It was "the War for Southern Independence", referred to as "the War of Rebellion" in the north. It did pit families against families and northern cousins against southern ones.
I did a summary check of Civil War Veterans of Hendricks County, Indiana and found none who were know to be buried in Coatesville. That's odd. Perhaps those who know can provide more information on that subject. One Hendricks County soldier (calvary) may have been one John Q. Hill.
The following link contains a list of Hendricks County Union Soldiers. Perhaps some belong to Coatesville: (See link:History of Hendricks County Indiana). I leave it to the reader to find their own.
It doesn't seem that Hendricks County was a hotbed for volunteers surely because it was sparsely populated and very agrarian at the time. Most of the soldiers were from Plainfied, Brownsburg and towns closer to the city. However, Hendricks was a county very Republican in nature and when I grew up in Coatesville I never even knew a Democrat! As such, I am a product of Coatesville.
One can expect an agrarian economy to be fairly conservative and most people I knew in Coatesville were. The town consisted of hard workers, business owners who struggled and some secretly good investors. When I think of hard workers I think of Everett Smith, Jim Walters, Bill Stanton, Jocko Sanders, Colby Johnson's dad, Donald Trump, and many many others! In fact many will be most surprised. I wrote "An Ode to Johnny Sanders". In spite of his being a crippled man his wheelchair kept the streets hot selling salve and good nature! Below is the full version:
Johnny Sanders I remember well.
His life is one we should all admire.
A man who's story I'm obliged to tell.
He sings now in the angel's choir.
Johnny is dead and long gone.
But I still remember this pillar!
His majesty to all so brightly shown.
This poor man who was the salve seller!
Johnny Sanders was struck by disease.
His tiny legs were crippled under.
Recreation in this town was to tease.
Taunts and jeers tore him asunder!
Johnny's only ride was a rickety chair.
It was powered by his own sinew hands.
Life for him was a fate unfair.
But now his tune is played by angel bands!
Coatesville was his home and pride.
Johnny loved because that's what he did.
Never married there was never a bride.
And neither did Johnny have ever a kid.
Poor Johnny was always unkempt.
His beard was haggard and gray.
His only belt was a rope of hemp.
Never able to run, jump or play!
Salve so black is what he sold.
He earned a living although crippled.
His livelihood were the stories he told.
Always sober he not once tippled!
Johnny's life was imaginary you see.
He couldn't do, but he could dream.
Johnny was as genuine as could be!
His stories all fantasy so real they seem.
His life was in Oz with the Wizard.
He read all Baum's wondrous works.
Yes, Johnny was really bizarre!
In hope is where a great man lurks.
I think of Johnny because he was hope.
He never gossiped nor did he complain..
His whole life was at the end of the rope,
this pitiful little man with legs so lame.
Johnny is in heaven right now.
His legs are muscular and strong.
He stands before God and is able to bow.
He sings to the heavens a beautiful song!
Johnny Sanders' praise is finally due.
This man in poverty suffered through life.
He has a room in a mansion with a view.
And now Johnny Sanders has no strife!
He laughs because of God's little joke.
It seems the earth belongs to the meek.
Delivered from this life in heaven he awoke.
For Johnny Sanders life is no longer bleak!
Picture if you will this man so deformed.
His legs all twisted and not of any use.
Johnny is a now a beauty who God adorned.
And only to God now does Johnny amuse!
Yes, Johnny was the very example of self-sufficiency and capitalism. That's the hallmark of Coatesville. People as these molded me; and it started early in life!
In High School I actually belonged to "The Young Republicans", not through Cascade, but through the party. My mind was too adult for a youngster it appears. Some of us teenagers even cleaned up old cemeteries with the Cascade History Club! If I sewed wild oats, it was likely in a cemetery or campaign event! However, Coatesville formed me and liberal education never had a chance of making it otherwise.
Like it or not, Coatesville in the 1950s and 1960s was a very conservative town! Sure, there were wild people there whose secrets I shall keep, but on a national scale, Coatesville was the epitome of traditional values and conservative principles. Even our teachers were! I am what I am because of the influence of Coatesville, but it was my Dad's choice for me to be raised there!
Coatesville has never been a hotbed of religiosity. Sure, most people went to church, but few made attempts to propagate their faith. As I remember, there were four churches in town: the Missionary Baptist with Pastor Malcolm Neier who owned the Baptist Church Camp between here and Amo, the Methodist Church which united in the mid-1960s who had Pastor Norris King and later John Deal, the latter who performed my marriage, the Christian Church of which I knew little at the time. They had several pastors, and lastly, the Primitive Baptist Church on Walnut Street near the Delps. See Figure #2.
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| Figure #2: Map of Coatesville |
"... my great grandparents, John and Catherine Lee (Pulaski Co., KY) Phipps were original co-founders of the Primitive Baptist Church. Supposedly the tornado spared the church because "they had no sinful musical instruments". And Warren Beamen was my cousin. Thad Bridges was our neighbor..."Wanda and I had done genealogy together long after I moved to Bowling Green, Kentucky. We both have Phipps lines, descended from Joshua Phipps of the revolution.
My brother Carroll reminded me of John Jellison's independent church in the building north of the Standard Oil Gas Station. It may have been charismatic, but he was unsure. However, he did indicate that John Jellison admonished simplicity and modesty in appearance and dress.
Here are a list of liquor stores, bars, and stores which sold liquor in Coatesville while I lived there: ___________. None. Jim Poff opened a package store across from the Standard Gas Station owned by Bill Stanton circa 1969. Don't think Coatesvillans were tee-totalers; Two bars in Stilesville were 15 minutes away. However, as far as our community was concerned it was home to "Stepford Wives" and even "Stepford Husbands". Everything appeared to be just perfect!
Brown's Drugstore sold booze! They just didn't know it! Those who had money drank drinks like Hadacol and even one person, Vitalis Hair Tonic. Herb and Edna Brown ran that store, and Edna never watched me because she had faith that I wouldn't steal! I bought enough bubble gum with cards there to pay her monthly rent it seems! Her daughter is Jenni Brown, her son David and Herb was her husband. David Brown married Janice Harper of Amo, daughter of Joe Harper of Harper Trucking. The Browns served the coldest "pop" in Coatesville! Yes, it was "pop" then. If not "pop", everything was "Coke" brown or not.
Let me mention my religious experience there. All my friends went to church. That's what good parents did in those days! They took their kids to church. I went mostly to the Methodist which I joined and sometimes the Missionary Baptist. For those who don't know, there is not enough difference between these two denominations at that time to argue about, and we didn't! Methodist preachers wore a robe and had candle boys of which I was one while the Baptists were less formal. The biggest difference then was on the method of baptism (immersion for Baptists and affusion for Methodists) and the doctrine of sola gratia (grace alone) for baptists or good works for the Methodists.
The Christian Church was much the same as the Baptist except for salvation is a process culminating in baptism and a belief in conditional security.
As such, people in Coatesville were all very much of the same faith. I recall none of Jewish fsith there and very few of the Catholic faith. My Bayse friends in Clayton and the McCammacks of Stilesville were the only Catholics I knew personally. We used to say "birds of a feather flock together" and that pretty much described 1950s Coatesville.
I'm going to criticize all the faiths for this diatribe! They were all on numbers! Sure, souls mattered, but churches like the numbers too. It's a measurement of success! In heaven I can hear the preachers of all denomnations say " I baptized a bunch of people, Lord". Numbers matter here, but sincerity there. Sometimes even sincere people get wrapped up in the trivial! Now for my memories!
Firstly, at the Methodist Church I took a catechism class. It was announced on Sunday to the church that I qualify for membership because I got an "A". Indeed I did, but now I was merely a smart sinner; not even wet!
Afterwards I went to church camp. I have fond memories of Malcolm Neier and especially his daughter Ann. For some reason young boys are attracted to teenage girls slightly older, or even blooming apple trees to be honest about teen boy libido! Teen boys have a virus and there may never be a cure for it short of old age and maybe death!
At camp we had a service in the pole barn. Malcolm didn't do the preaching. Someone else did. Typical of Baptist Churches is to have an altar call. I didn't know that, being a Methodist which now I was a member. The preacher said "If you want to stay after and pray, we'll pray with you!" I opened one eye and the kid beside me stayed. I did too! He may have prayed. I day-dreamed" Apparently prayer or day-dreaming are both effacious because it was announced in church that night that I was "saved". Now I was a smart sinner and a day-dreaming sinner!
It's not anyone's fault in either instance. People get caught up in ritual and make assumptions. I had no idea what either church was about and people just assumed that I did! Regardless, when I was ready both Coatesville Churches planted seeds which eventually grew! The churches of Coatesville are part of my make-up, and have guided my religious beliefs and politics, because they are inseparable.
Nearly all of my close friends went to church. The Walters twins went to the Baptist, but most of them excepting Russell Neier whose dad was the preacher at the Baptist, went to the Methodist. Of course there was the pastor's son there too, Leonard Norris, but also Bill Jamison, the Winglers, Bobbi Runnells, and many others of my age. Church was a fixture for many of us, but as youngsters few of us were what I'd consider devoted. Church was jst a fact of life for about half of the town.
Here are my mentors in Coatesville: Bill Jamison's grace, two churches influences, conservative teachers, my own Dad and the lack of liquor in Coatesville. I've never been a drinker and I owe that to the fact that in Coatesville there was virtually no one to emulate! (On my 21st birthday I became a tee-totaler myself at King's Armour Bar in Flint, Michigan). On my birthday I abstained and have since! Thank you Coatesville, It made life so much easier!
Not only are we a product of out time, but we are of also a product of our milieu. Coatesville provided what I was to become just as it did most of you "if you grew up in Coatesville".
After I was married while I was in college I lived above the Post Office in the back apartment there. Before I had never even knew of it's existence. Then it became my home. At that time Fred and Mary Ruth Collier (Collier Lumber) was having his house built and he lived in the other apartment. Fred was the son of Tom Collier who owned the lumber company and was a builder. (This was around 1971). At that time the Vandalia Railroad was still there. It had dual tracks there used for passing trains. About 50 feet from my apartment were the signals and their percussion warnings. Any time a train sat there, nor only was there flashing red lights, but CLANG... CLANG... CLANG... CLANG all evening and all night long!
The volume of the 9' black and white television could never be loud enough to hear. Likewise, it was impossible to sleep! My oldest son Rodger was a baby at that time and I'm sure his entire life is a result of flashing red and CLANGS! It had to have a profound effect on who he is.
Recently, speaking of 9" TV's, I thought "Where is my remote control?" I now have a 52 inch flat screen as most people do. I had to find that remote because NOBODY ever uses the manual controls on modern TV's. Then I thought "Who changed channels when I was a kid?" The answer was humbling! I did. I was the remote control!
While we're on the subject, let's speak of early television. When I was young we had two channels. That was 1953 Hazelwood where we lived at that time on Jacktown road across from the Hostetlers. Both channels were in black and white and beautiful shades of grey. To get reception we had rabbit ears for reception as everyone did in Coatesville as well! When the analog signal went to snow there were two options: 1) adjust the antenna or 2) wrap aluminum foil to fool us into thinking we were gaining something. Not only was I the remote control, I was also the automatic rotary antenna! Also, because it was perceived that the antenna needed a better ground, I was also the antenna holder, having to stand there with my hand on one of the two rods!
What's worse is that at 9:00 p.m there was nothing! The stations signed off. It ended with the American flag waving and a patriotic song, and finalized with an everlasting buzz (all night long) accompanied by an "off the air black and white symbol". In the late 1960s color movies arrived. They were few and in the TV Guide color shows were called out with a "C" in a box. There was a furniture store in town. Mom bought all our furniture there on credit with the store; unheard of now! I remember standing in the window and watching color TV.
Like Don Wood, we didn't have a television for years after ours went kaput. It lasted about a year before the picture tube went. We didn't get another until I was in junior high school. I heard about Popeye and Olive, but I never knew who they were talking about. As such, I read and read and read.
Coatesville Public Library was the source of my books. Olive Bourne was the librarian. (I had forgotten her name, but her great-nephew Robert Bruce reminded me.) I went there every day. My favorite was the biographies of the presidents, sports figures and inventors. I read them all, many twice. My rural home in this small town made it a given that I was to read and I credit reading with my own educational development. None of my family had ever graduated from college and it was a mere dream for me. So much that I never even considered it, but my Dad found a way which required no money, but hard work. Coatesville prepared me for that. Thank you little town!
Thank you for your work on this. A slight correction, the lumber yard was "Collier" lumber, and your neighbors in the apartment building in 1971 were Fred and Mary Ruth Collier (my mother and father). Les is Fred's older brother, and both worked for the lumber company at the time.
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