Thursday, December 22, 2016

Fremont Motorcycle Club

Fremont Motorcycle Club, 1912
 The black and white images on this post are from the U. B. Lust Collection that  is part of the Local History Collection. Lust was a Fremont jeweler, watch and clock maker, marksman, violinist, photographer, and in 1913 the president of the Fremont Motorcycle Club. The location of the Grand View Cottage is not given. 

This photograph was taken in the summer of 1912. The sign reads "Sunday, August 10, Fremont, Ohio, Professional Motor Races. George Stine was promoting motorcycle races at the Sandusky County Fairgrounds. Featured were professionals who club members had seen in Cleveland and Toledo. The event featured six races, ranging in distance from one to twenty-five miles. Races were geared for the professional and the novice. 

George I. Stine's "Motorcycles and Repairing" shop was located in Fremont at 412 South Front Street. The motorcyclist is unidentified. The "Excelsior" Motorcycle Company was established in Chicago, Illinois in 1907. Its motorcycle was the first to be clocked at 100 mph. The Schwinn Bicycle Company purchased the company in 1912.

This  unidentified motorcyclist was probably a member of the club as well. According to one article in the "Fremont News Messenger," the club may have had at one time as many as 55 members. The annual membership fee was one dollar

These two unidentified motorcyclists were also probably members of the club. The club made road trips throughout northwest Ohio and northeast Indiana. At least 18 made a Sunday road trip in 1912 to Sandusky, Milan, Clyde, Bellevue, and Norwalk under the direction of "Road Captain" Ralph Morris. In addition to Morris, members who made the trip were Ray Ochs, Ed. Zillis, E. H. Barringer, Frank House, Charles Truman, Arthur Burkett, Anson Douglas, President U. B. Lust, R. Schultz, Lloyd Beck, Forest Barr, Phil Rothacker, B. Heim, George I. Stine, Sard Hetrick, and ___ Netter.

George I. Stine, 1912

Further information on the Fremont Motorcycle Club is welcome!

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Healing Of Our Veterans Through Equine Assisted Services (H.O.O.V.E.S)

"The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war, no matter how justified, shall be directly proportional to how they perceive the Veterans of earlier wars were treated and appreciated by their nation." – GEORGE WASHINGTON

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Ghost Stories with Mike Gilbert on Saturday October 29th in the Hayes Museum Building

Mike Gilbert Presenting at History Roundtable 2016

It's not too late! There is still one session left in the 2016 fall series of History Roundtable with Mike Gilbert! If you love a good ghost story, come join us for an interesting discussion of local ghost lore. We meet in the Hayes Museum building from 10 to 11:30 on Saturday October 29th!

You can preregister by contacting Nan Card 419-332-2081, ext. 239, or! The cost is only $5.00. 

We thank Mary B. Wonderly, M.D. for making the 2016 series: History Roundtable with Mike Gilbert possible!


Wednesday, September 28, 2016

St. Joseph's Catholic Church - Toussaint, Carroll Twp., Ottawa County, Ohio

After receiving the photograph below, Sandra Zenser researched and wrote the following history of the St. Joseph's Catholic Church - Toussaint in Carroll Twp., Ottawa County, Ohio. We welcome Sandra's guest post.

St. Joseph’s Catholic Church - Toussaint
by Sandra L. Zenser

Add caption
The photo shows St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, parishioners, church leaders (believed to be l-r: Father Thomas McCarthy, Bishop Samuel Stritch1, and Father Albert Fate), with the church parsonage in the background. The celebration is possibly a first communion, ca.1922. The picture was donated to the Carroll Township History Committee by Betty Youster Dubbert, granddaughter of Fred and Akie Swope, and hangs on the wall of the historic 1880 Carroll Township hall/museum. Church records have the Swope family as members in 1860.

The church was located next to the Catholic Burial Ground, now known as St. Joseph’s Cemetery on Duff-Washa Road in Ottawa County, Ohio. Early church records have the Toussaint pastor as Rev. Amadeus Rappe in the year 1841. The Mass would have been celebrated in members' log cabins. Eventually in 1845 a log chapel was built on a half-acre tract at this location. The log chapel served its purpose until 1861 with the erection of this wooden structure. In 1944, the St. Joseph’s Church building was thought to be in danger of collapse and the Bishop felt that the small number of parishioners did not have the resources to build a new church. St. Joseph’s Church was torn down in 1945, one of the oldest parishes in the diocese, the first church in Carroll Township ceased. Catholics living in the Toussaint territory would become part of the Bono parish (Lucas County). 

What remains are the cemetery, privately owned by the Catholic Diocese of Toledo, and the parsonage home (built in 1916 according to diocesan history), a private residence since 1942.

Catholic Church records refer to this parish as Toussaint, French word meaning “All Saints”. However, to the locals it is Frenchtown as it was a French Canadian settlement where early settlers gained their livelihood by hunting, trapping, and fishing. Possibly the reason for the church not referring to this area as Frenchtown is because of  Frenchtown, Michigan and a St. Joseph’s Catholic Church there. The Toussaint River is just south of this property and Toussaint being a French‑Catholic name. So to eliminate confusion in the diocese, it opted to call this parish Toussaint.

 1Bishop Samuel Stritch, bishop from 1921 to 1930, later becoming a Cardinal as Cardinal Stritch Catholic High
  School is named after him on east side of Toledo in Oregon.

Friday, August 19, 2016

History Roundtable with Mike Gilbert is Back by Popular Demand!

Join us on Saturdays in the Hayes Museum at 10 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. to hear the always interesting Mike Gilbert discuss our area's fascinating history!

Thanks to Mary B. Wonderly, M. D. for making this year's Roundtable series possible!

To pre-register, contact Nan Card, Curator of Manuscripts, at 332-2081 x 239 or

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Dalton Smith Hayes World War I Memoir

                                 DALTON SMITH HAYES WW I MEMOIR

Dalton Hayes was born June 22,1898 at Spiegel Grove, Fremont, Ohio. He was the son of Harry Eaton Smith and Fanny Hayes. He was the grandson of President and Mrs. Rutherford B. Hayes. Dalton was a freshman at Princeton University when the U.S. entered World War I in April 1917. He joined the Princeton Battalion headed by Captain Stuart Heintzelman, U.S. Army. Later, he trained with the Princeton Officer Training Corps. On September 10, 1917, he enlisted at Camp Mills, Long Island in the 69th New York Regiment of the famous 42nd Rainbow Division in Co. D 165th Infantry. He served in the A.E.F. in all engagements participated in by his company, until he was seriously wounded on October 14, 1918.

On the twelfth of October 1918 we were lying in reserve, dug in on the reverse slope of a high hill, supporting our third battalion who were holding the front line. We had come to the Argonne direct from the reduction of the St. Mihiel salient by truck and by forced marches, and had been in our present position for two or three days awaiting our turn to go into the fighting, We were somewhere to the left of Montfaucon exactly where I cannot state as I saw no towns or villages after we left the main road.

Early on the morning of the thirteenth my platoon commander Lt. Catts or Ketch, I never did know which, called the platoon up and announced that the Germans had quit and that Peace would probably be signed in a fortnight. You can imagine the cheers and rejoicing that went up! “But,” continued the Lieutenant, “our third battalion is to go over early tomorrow morning, and one platoon from each company of the first battalion is to be attached as moppers up to an attacking company.” My platoon has been given the honor from D company. We will assemble here at 5:30 this evening [for orders] under full equipment.

Lovely! Here we are, peace already to be signed and we poor devils going over to see jerry the next day. As moppers up too! A hell of a job!

The moppers up follows immediately behind the first wave, takes charge of prisoners, sees that no enemy men are left overlooked in cellars and dugouts, and combs out woods which may have been left unsearched by the attacking wave. He generally carries beaucoup hand grenades which make a welcome addition to the trifling weight he has already strapped on. He can’t even have the sport of firing in all directions as he advances because of the men in front of him. All in all it is a thankless job. When he comes to a dugout or likely looking cellar he pulls the pin of a grenade and yells down, “Come on out you various unmentionables.” If any come out they are escorted to the rear and if not, he throws his grenade down to make sure they’re not merely playing possum. More often than not he throws his grenade and then asks the inmates in a polite tone to come forth. In these cases the report is invariably the same – “Dug out encountered, no inmates – now.” Whereupon the Loot. winks and the party moves on to the next hole.

However, at 5:30 on the evening of the 13th our platoon set forth for the front line only a kilometer ahead. As Ian Hay has already said, if a hundred men are walking in single file in the dark the last man invariably has to run all the time in order not to be last. True. On this occasion I was the last man with the ironical order to keep the column closed up. I had more than I cared to do to keep the column in sight much less keep it closed up. Finally the nightmare came to an end as all nightmares must and we were at the front line. It had only taken three hours (a record) and we had only been lost twice (another record) so we were correspondingly elated. After we received our orders attaching us to H company we had only to dig ourselves in and wait for 8:30 a.m. October 14th, which was the “zero hour.”

We spent a lonely night. It was cold and was raining with the gentle persistence with which it always rains in northern France. We were very hungry and to add to our comfort we had not had a bath or change for some six weeks, and consequently our little Play-mates – but enough, enough. Then, too, Jerry seemed to know of our fell intentions and bombarded us with everything but the kitchen sink. At about 4:30 just as it began to look as if there might be another day in the distant future he tried to raid us. He was repulsed without much trouble. At 7:30 our barrage which had raged since five o’ clock increased materially until 8:29:55 when it lifted, and we started over.

As we emerged from the shelter of the woods into the open one could see the ? lines of men reaching for miles apparently on each side of us. My platoon was about fifty yards in the rear of “K” company. We were divided into three groups with about three squads each advancing in open order. Each group was under the command of a sergeant or acting sergeant with two corporals next in command.

Our line advanced with no trouble up a slight grade but when we reached the top we encountered difficulties. There was a long downward slope ahead of us, then a rather steep hill on the top of which the jerries were deeply dug in. Their artillery was laying down a fearful barrage of 77s and 150s  mixed with heavies and the storm of machine gun fire was terrible. Our front line wavered but pressed on and we followed taking advantage of all the cover we could find. Early in the fight we lost track of our lieutenant and the other groups but after a conference in a large shell hole Serg. Smith, Corp. Hogan and myself decided to press on immediately in the rear of K company as long as we could. At this time there were only six privates and us three N.C.O.’s  left in our group and the casualties in the company ahead were very great although reinforcements were constantly coming up.

At about eleven o’clock we had pushed about two miles beyond our own front line and were holding on just below the crest of a large hill. The enemy machine guns were actually lowering the level of the crest. There was a sunken road about fifty yards in back of the remnants of K company and into this the “moppers up” leaped with a great sigh of relief, on my part at least! We were protected from the front and were practically safe from shell fire so we congratulated ourselves on our good luck. There were at least two German snipers who could see the road for we saw these two and I was sitting at the side of the road smoking a hard-earned cigarette when I felt a blow on the back exactly as if someone had hit me with a hammer on the shoulder blade. My left arm and side went numb, but there was no pain. The force of the bullet knocked me flat and dazed me for a moment or two. Then I tied the shoulder up with a little assistance and started for the rear, rejoicing.

I don’t remember ever having been quite as scared as I was just then. Of course you’re frightened more or less all the time at the front but at this time I was absolutely terror-stricken.

I found the first aid-station which had moved with the advance about a kilo to the rear. Here I got my blue tag and started for the ambulance station. That was about three kilos further on and I was pretty well all in when I finally got there, I had a new dressing put on there and got in an ambulance bound for the 160th Field Hospital. This was a ride of perhaps six kilos and when I got there I felt still more all in. The roads were in fearful shape and since every jar felt lovely, it was an awful trip. I got a cup of cocoa here and a jab in the tummy with A.T. mixture. It was about two when I started off again in another ambulance. It was At about nine or ten in the evening when we arrived at Mobile Hospital No. 10 I think it was. In the mean time my wound had gotten cold and stiff and every movement was agony.

I was X-rayed here and immediately dragged off to the operating room and laid on the table. By this time I was so exhausted that I fell asleep on the table! They roused and gave me an Army jag and I woke up next morning in a ward in a nice white bed clothed in pajamas with American nurses all over. Absolute Heaven. We got two square meals and lots of chocolate and cigarettes and to my sorrow at five-thirty a lot of us were evacuated. At the station we saw Pershing and then were loaded on a French R.C. train. Then there was a nightmare trip of twenty seven hours with two meals and no cigarettes to help out. I was flat on my back on a very hard litter and could not move hand or foot. The Lord preserve me from another ride like that! Every jar on that rotten road bed sent a twinge all through me, Finally at seven in the evening on the 16th  we landed in Beaune and I was taken to B.H. 61 given a bath and assigned to bed 39 ward 7. They gave me supper and I immediately fell asleep.

Of course I wrote Aunt Mary and sent a telegram to the Colonel and about ten days later Uncle Webb showed up. Later Aunt Mary came along and on the 16th of Nov. we all started for Nice. (Uncle Webb having secured a month’s leave for me in a most miraculous manner.)

The Riviera Leave Area was perfectly wonderful and I had a fine time. Every day I got my wounds dressed at the Hospital American. After nearly a month at Nice during which I made trips to Ca?, Menton, and Monte Carlo, news came that I was to be invalided home. Glorious news! Uncle Webb had again come to the fore. We started from Bordeaux Dec. 17 on the Niagara of the French line arriving in New York the 29th. We had expected to reach there before Christmas but the sailing date was put off four times.

We had an uneventful passage and none too good accommodations, but it was deluxe compared to the way I had come over in 1917 via transport Ascania.

Dalton Hayes
Recovering from Wounds Suffered in the Agronne

For several days prior to Sept. 12 we had been bivouacked in a dense wood miles from anywhere waiting for the big offensive which we knew was to come off sometime in the near future

For two or three weeks we had been having practice maneuvers a safe distance behind the lines at Viscount and we knew the signs. Then suddenly had come the order to hike and we had hiked – Lord! How we had hiked – always at night and always getting nearer and nearer to the rumbling of the guns. Finally we had reached a spot near Toul and there we had been waiting.

On the 11th we non-coms – proud title recently acquired – were called by our respective platoon commanders and the objectives and signals etc were explained to us. The first attack was to be made by the 1st battalion. “As usual” we groaned and cursed Wild Bill Donovan, our major, heartily. A company and G company were to strike the first blow with D and B in support in the second wave. This was a grain of comfort to those of us in D company. The barrage was to start at one A.M. and the infantry was to go over at five o’clock.

The officer very candidly told us that it would be a hard proposition and that preparations had been made for 50,000 casualties at least. Charming information! In that case it would probably mean the end of the Rainbow Division – a glorious end it is true but what good is glory to dead men?! We spent the rest of the day writing farewell letters and praying to get shot in the leg in the first minute of fighting.

At four o’ clock in the afternoon we were all packed and stood around in the rain until half past eight when we at last started off.

It was about 10 kilos to the front and we arrived after the barrage had started. Instead of getting into trenches we lined up in shell formation at the rear of A company. It was still raining very heavily and the ground was simply a quagmire. We had hiked for over four hours in the ditch on the side of the road – infantry always does this for some inexplicable reason – we were soaked through and the wind blowing right through us. It was only one-thirty and we were to wait there until five when we were to go like lambs to the slaughter. Jerry had a particularly strong nest of m.g. directly in front of us, we had been told and though it was practically shell-proof the artillery would try to wipe it out --- but some of the boys fell asleep. They have my wonder and admiration but I lay awake cursing the war, the Army and myself and shivered, not altogether from the cold.

At 5 minutes to five our machine gun barrage started – I would have sworn it was the Germans – and five minutes later we started through the lanes cut in our wire during the night. Every minute I expected would be my last, but the long seconds flew by and I was unhurt – nobody was hurt! The silence in front was absolutely uncanny! Presently we came across some smashed wire and a kind of furrow which five hours before had been a trench much as the one we had just left.

Not until then did the glorious truth come over us. The Germans had evacuated practically without firing a shot. A few prisoners dirty and scared, more dead than alive, passed us. One who could speak English said “Metz (?) gone for sure. Goodbye Germany,” and began to weep bitterly.

Somehow the pathos of it all struck me, and we went forward without any of the jubilation which might have been expected.

At about eleven o’ clock we relieved A company and took up the advance as leading company. We took the first town, Pannes, that day and found about 200 Boches hidden in cellars. A great majority of them were dead drunk. The canteen leader was the first one to run and the troops had raided his place. There were no officers there and we were told that when the news of the attack came all the officers had left in motor cars leaving the N.C.O.s in charge. We dug in on the hills around Pannes that night and had a pretty poor nest as it was cold and rained steadily.

Early next morning we started off and to our surprise could not come in contact with the enemy. We proceeded slowly and continuously for two or three days, passing several villages and and camps in the woods. On the third day, Sept 15th we had advanced about twenty kilos and were in a tiny village (something-or-other Fenme.) We dug in and French troops came up and relieved us. We had to patrol every night and almost every day in front of the French to find what Jerry was doing

It was on one of these daylight patrols that I had what I consider my narrowest escape from death or capture, and at the same time was the most foolish example of inefficiency of command. There were three French N.C.Os, one American sergeant, and two squads of Americans, eighteen men. We had orders to proceed from our front line until we came in contact with the enemy. We proceeded along a road which led straight toward Germany, ten men on one side and eight on the other, in intervals so that we covered about 75 or 80 yds. on each side. We had no one on either flank and were to go on until we reached some Germans. At about 3 in the afternoon we were some four kilometres from our supporting outposts and no idea at all what was on our flanks.

We stopped here and sent back word of our position and what we had seen. Orders came back to “advance until fired upon.” (These words are the ones used by the way.) There was nothing to do but obey and so we started forward again. Soon we came near the end of the woods and could see a narrow lake in the open and then more woods. When we were about 50 yards from the open space, the French sergeant suddenly halted and half-turned around. Then Hades broke loose. 50 or 75 Boches sprung in to view in front of us and a very harassing fire broke out on both both flanks. I saw the French sergeant’s helmet give a jerk and he slumped in a heap. Our sergeant gave the word to fall back and we did so without any hesitation at all. Those Heinies were coming on the run and they sure did look big! They outnumbered us at least five to one and our movements to the rear were precipitous to say the least. In some mysterious way my pack was lost, I guess I just ran right out from under it, but it was an awfully heavy thing anyway and retarded me considerably!! When we got to our outposts there were only 10 of us left and I don’t yet understand how so many escaped. It seemed as if a line of bees was buzzing around our ears. One of our chaps had 4 bullets through his pack, luckily from the side, and one through his helmet.

The Germans had only followed about 50 yds or so evidently fearing an ambush so when a combat patrol went out one wounded man was rescued and the Fritzes were pushed back across the lake.

The next night we were relieved and the 89th American Division took our places. We went back and pitched pup tents in the woods and three days later took over the front line and finished digging trenches and consolidating our positions for the winter. After three or four days we were relieved again and after a day’s rest in the woods (Rest is the Army’s term - not mine) we hiked and went in trucks right into the Argonne drive which had started Sept 26.     

It seemed to us that the 42nd was the only American division in France, for on the 18th of July we had just come from the Champagne in front of Chalons-sur-Marne, where we had helped the French repel the Crown Prince’s desperate attempt to reach Paris and now on the 27th we were told we were to attack in the morning following our counter-drive at Chateau-Thierry. We had hiked and come by motor truck to Ehrids (?)  where we relieved the 26th Division and our 84th Brigade (Alabama and Iowa) started the ball rolling again towards the Burcq (?).

We followed My battalion had nothing much to do but dodge shells until we had penetrated to within a half-kilo of the river, There was high ground on the other side and there were elaborate defense positions manned by the Prussian guards – the crack troops of Germany. The river lay in a valley whose sides sloped gradually and absolutely without cover for three hundred yards on each side, Then, on our side woods began and there were two little villages between the river and the top of hill. On the summit there was a large white chateau which was used for brigade headquarters and the first aid station for a while. This chateau was a shining mark for the German guns and aeroplanes.

When we entered it the fires were still going and equipment of every sort was scattered around.

We formed attacking lines in the cover of the woods and pushed across the river on the first attempt. Then for three days there was a desperate struggle for possession of the heights across the river Every man in the regiment must remember the Meurcy Ferme (?) which was captured and lost half a dozen times. Finally the French captured on left captured the town of Fire-en-Tandenois (?) and our foothold in the hills especially Hill 212. On this hill alone after the fighting was over the bodies of over three hundred of both sides were buried. During this week I was a stretcher-bearer and we were on the ground (?) every minute.

The stretcher-bearer has a rotten job in open warfare. He advances with the attack and has not got even the feeling of protection that a rifle gives. Then he has the pleasure of carrying the seriously wounded back for attendance. And after the first hundred yards a wounded man is awfully heavy! Naturally he’s under fire as much as the rest, but he can’t dodge shells or fall flat when he hears one coming because of the wounded man, at Chateau-Thierry our “carry” was about a half-mile, and over almost impassable ground.

When we were finally relieved by the 4th Division we had driven Fritzie more than fifteen kilos and almost to the Vesta (?) River. In D company there were ninety odd men left out of 250 and we were not the worst off by any means. We moved back into the woods and camped in pup  tents for about a week, where practically every man was down with dysentery. I imagine it was caused by drinking water from the river and polluted sources, and a steady diet of nothing but canned beef and mighty little of that. For four days we had nothing but our reserve rations to go on, as our kitchen got lost. D Company’s kitchen seemed to be lost most of the time. It was mainly the last one in on hikes and at last and in the Argonne had the misfortune to stop a six inch shell which ruined its [faculty?] and usefulness forever.

We hiked back almost thirty kilometers and got in the 40 hommes 8 chevaux box-cars and ended up in almost the same spot where we had trained when we first arrived in France, near Neuf (?) Chateau. We had confidently expected a furlough here and then a long rest but no – in fact we never did get a furlough in France, unless a 24-hour pass to Paris can be called one, and only 20% of the division got that. I was one of the lucky ones and had a marvelous time.

The crowds and theatres & cafes almost made me forget that there was a war. And the Parisiennes or “Leetle cheechens“ (?) as they liked to be called!!

We had two weeks rest (with reveille at 6:00 and drills all day) and then two weeks intense attack drill and we’re off to St. Mihiel.


Our first taste of real warfare came on July 15 in the Champagne near Chalons-sur-Marne. We had finished our training in the trenches of Lorraine in the middle of June and after a short rest had arrived on about the third of July at the Camp de Unalons, famous for having been built by Napoleon and from whence the French went out to defeat in 1870.

Dalton Hayes
In WWII Dalton Hayes served in intelligence

Friday, July 22, 2016

Samuel Brady and his Journey to the Sandusky River

Vintage Postcard of Brady's Island to the right with Truss Bridges on the Sandusky River in the Background
In 1780, General George Washington dispatched scout Samuel Brady from Fort Pitt to the Sandusky River to learn of the area’s geography and the strength of the American Indians encamped there. Brady with a few trusted soldiers and Chickasaw guides force marched through the wilderness. He entered the Wyandot country along the Sandusky River under the cover of darkness. Fording the river, he hid on an island just below the falls of the Sandusky River. The following morning a war party had returned from Kentucky with fine horses. Concealed on the island, Brady watched as the Wyandots raced the horses they’d captured again and again. Brady escaped that night.

But on a second scouting trip to the Sandusky region, Brady was captured. He was taken to Upper Sandusky where his captors prepared to torture him. Brady made a daring escape. According to early histories, Brady was pursued for nearly 100 miles when he escaped by leaping the Cuyahoga River at Kent, Ohio, ever since known as Brady’s Leap.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

St. Philomena Church and LaPrairie Cemetery of Sandusky County, Ohio

  St. Philomena Church

Until it was torn down in 1999, St. Philomena Church, the first Roman Catholic church in the county, lay at a bend on the west side of the Sandusky River. Nearby is the LaPrairie Cemetery where many of its early parishioners were laid to rest. The church was founded by French families who had migrated from Monroe and Detroit, Michigan south to the Sandusky and Maumee Rivers before the War of 1812. Following the conflict, they settled in Rice Twp. where the Sandusky River provided them with transportation, drinking water, and an abundance of fish and game.  By 1822, twenty to thirty French families were living in the area. The Office of Holy Sacrifice was held for the first time in 1823 in one of their log cabins by Rev. Gabriel Richard of Detroit. 

The first building for worship was erected in 1841 on land that hugged the banks of the river. Bishop Purcell of Cincinnati dedicated it to St. Philomena. Twenty-seven years later, a new frame building was erected on land located at what is the junction of Route 53 and 523. Mr. and Mrs. Bernard Wagner donated the property. Services were held here until 1891 when the church was abandoned because of dwindling membership. But when the area’s population increased, the church was repaired and services were held for another decade.

On Good Friday of 1913, the church was moved to the farm of Walter and Mary Darr. On that day, the steeple was blown down by the heavy winds that preceded the severe flooding that took place on Easter Sunday. In 1999, some 85 years after it was abandoned, the little church was scheduled for demolition. Many of the descendants of the original parishioners attended the final mass held by Rev. James Pieffer of the St. Boniface Catholic Church of Oak Harbor. Ohio.

LaPrairie Cemetery

On Good Friday of 1913, the church was moved to the farm of Walter and Mary Darr. On that day, the steeple was blown down by the heavy winds that preceded the severe flooding that took place on Easter Sunday. In 1999, some 85 years after it was abandoned, the little church was scheduled for demolition. Many of the descendants of the original parishioners attended the final mass held by Rev. James Peiffer of the St. Boniface Catholic Church of Oak Harbor. Ohio.
The LaPrairie Cemetery began as a family burial ground, but later was part of the Diocese of Cleveland and then Toledo. Eventually, the grounds fell into disrepair. It was the family of Thomas Gonya who began restoring the cemetery in 1980. Gonya’s great great grandfather, Gregory Gonya, who died in 1908, is believed to be the last individual buried in LaPrairie. Because some of the tombstones were beyond repair or illegible, the Rice Twp. Trustees erected a large plaque, listing the names of everyone they knew who was buried in the cemetery.

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Corporal Glenn Burkett, U. S. Army WWI

Corporal Glenn Burkett, Fremont, Ohio 

On July 18, 1918, the Second Battle of the Marne marked the turning of the tide in WWI. It began with the last German offensive of the conflict and was quickly followed by the first allied offensive victory of 1918. It took place in a triangular area bounded by Chateau-Thierry. Soissons and Riems. The American Expeditionary Forces with more than 250,000 men fighting under overall French command played key roles in the initial defense and the later advances. More than 30,000 were killed and wounded. The United States began suffering casualties on an enormous scale that was indicative of the losses that marked the Great War.

 One who took part in the Marne was Glenn Burkett of Fremont, Ohio.  Burkett worked as a night dispatcher for the Lake Shore Electric Railway. In December 1917, Burkett enlisted in the United States Army. He was assigned to the First Trench Mortar Battalion (First Army Corps) and trained at Fort Crockett, Texas. Burkett was shipped overseas on the H. M. T. Kursk as part of Battery "D." He received training in grenade throwing, bayonet practice, and trench mortar drill at Fort de la Bonnelle.

Two months later, Battery "D" took part in the reduction of the salient at St. Mihiel and then marched to the Argonne. He also served as an ammunition carrier for machine gunners of the 305th and 306th Infantries of the 77th Division. The battery also saw action at the Battle of the Meuse. On the 10th of November, Burkett’s battery received news of the armistice. On January 29, 1919, Burkett left France aboard the U.S.S. Virginia to return to America, arriving at Newport News two and one-half weeks later. Corporal Burkett was discharged from Camp Sherman, Chillicothe, Ohio, on March 13, 1919.

Burkett wrote the following in his diary, which is part of his two-volume record of his WWI service in the Hayes Library’s Manuscripts Division. Names of French locations are spelled just as Corporal Burkett wrote them in his diary. To learn more about his service in WWI, follow the link to a description of his collection that is part of the Local History collection. Burkett included pictures and biographical sketches of those who served with him; daily diary entries; overall explanation of the battles in which he particpated; and photographs of French locations.

I suppose there are many other things to be proud of, but being where we were on July 19th and the following days is just about the best thing that ever happened to us. The fun all started here and stayed with us for four months or more. Like all the Army we had our regular crabs and growls, but it’s got Vitry beat ten ways going and coming. Three enemy machine guns were taken over here, and although nobody knew beans about ‘em, we fired them at every boche plane that we even heard, much to the Majors and Captains disgust. A la the Major we remember “Ger-ry-mon-ey”, What is that? “Whizz-bang, Sir? and the fun that followed. But Lt. Dennis was in for blazing away, and blaze away the machine guns did.

When the order was issued to dig-in, the sand was gently brushed to one side, making a hole about an inch in depth. Fine Dug-out. If it were up to the Americans to have dug-outs, there wouldn’t be such a thing. Digging dug-outs is all a waste of time, to the American notion, but when they are already dug, well that’s a different thing.

The 26th.Division, the 32nd, the 42nd, and a few other stray outfits were mixed up in the counter attack around that neck of the woods, all of them being parts of the First Army Corps, the largest unit of the American Army then organized. Near our last location on that front, was a Big Bertha enplacement, close to the Coincy Aviation field, just outside of Fere-en-Tardenois. Along the roads from that town to Soissons and the Chateau-Thierry, in the heat and dust of summer roads, came the non-forgetable picture of emmence traffic that is caused when an Army Advances. Traffic had all been going south, you might say, for months, and the sudden change was like letting loose a long restrained dam of trucks. Wagons, people and soldiers, for that is the way the American Army went after the astounded Dutchmen when the tide turned. That time in the summer, how long ago it seems.
Looking back now, it seems like a paradise, compared to sitting around a cold barracks in the winter, Waiting. August 12th 1918 we with-drew to the hang-out at Germigny, for a few days recuperation, then, on the 18th day of August we hiked it to the La-Ferte-Sous-Jouarre then headquarters for the First Army Corps, and entrained Monday August 19th 1918, for other ports. 

Thru Reims, Chalons and Epernay, all night travel we arrived at Wassy, detrained and marched to the quiet unsuspecting little dried up village of Arranacourt, all on the day of August 20th. 1918. In six days rest at this peaceful little place, we found the only startling thing was to much blackberry short cake. This haven for bums was deserted August 27th. And on the hob-nailed specials came into their own in three days one-two-three-four thru Joinville, Houdelaincourt and Vancouleurs, to Pagny-sur-Meuse, stubble and freshly plowed fields being the bed for aching feet and bodies at night. Pagny-sur-Meuse proved to be another pup-tented area, on the banks of the Meuse. The moving tractors at night, and propaganda from enemy planes by day were the chief amusement here. August 31st. we packed the roll once more, marched thru Teul in the hour that made September Morn famous, and arrived at the Jallion woods on dawning Sunday morning, General Ligget inspected the picket line and bits of equipment. Two days here and the Army was again on the move, this time under fire, into the Foret de Peuvenelle the original home of rain as it appears when looking at the ocean. The square heads bombed us every time they smoked a cigarette, and the balloon outfit down the road had the windlass hot all the time. September 7th. 1918 the Battery footed it out of that place for Montauville (Thru Pont-a-Musson) and into the positions in the Bois le Pretre, on the extreme right of the Saint Mihiel salient , for eight nights and days without rest, only grabbing an occasional hunk of beef, bread and cup of java, the men beavered away on the positions where we were to first use the “Helluve gun to get the Hun”

This particular spot was known as Dead Mans Hill, for the French had lost so many lives holding it as the final point of resistance against the enemy in 1916. Across the ravine (for that is all it is) were the German trenches in full view of our peering eyes, and the machine-gunners who were waiting for our peering eyes to pop out far enough to warrant a shot. The path from “P.C” to No.3, enplacement was a walk that openly envited a shot, and if Heinie wasn’t asleep he didn’t pass you by without a greeting. The kitchen here was right out in the open, so were all the emplacements, and also the ammunition pile and the emplacements used were old ones of the French which would have been fine dope for Fritzies intelligence department had he known it.  

Friday, June 24, 2016

Former HPLM Staff Member Presents Lecture on President Hayes to Brevard County Florida Librarians

Former Hayes Presidential Library reference librarian Merv Hall, now living in Florida, hasn’t forgotten the nineteenth president and HPLM. Using Hayes photographs provided by Manuscripts Assistant Julie Mayle and knowledge gained from his years spent at HPLM, Merv gave a power point presentation on President Rutherford B. Hayes, the founding of the first presidential library, and our new exhibit for the Centennial celebration. In attendance were members of the Library Association of Brevard County, Florida. There were library personnel from school, public, private, military, and federal libraries. We’re pleased that Merv remembers all of us so fondly!

Thursday, June 23, 2016

HPLM Staff Member Meghan Wonderly Writes Book about the Founding of the Nation's First Presidential Library

When Col. Webb Cook Hayes decided to found America’s first presidential library, he faced myriad challenges that tested his resolve and threatened his health and finances.

He faced delay after delay, and at one point, the construction was so shoddy that parts of the building had to be torn down and rebuilt again. 

Still, he persevered, and on Memorial Day 1916, the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Library & Museums opened to the public, forever making the papers, books and artifacts of 19th U.S. President Rutherford B. Hayes and First Lady Lucy Hayes available to the public for research and learning. 

Meghan Wonderly, HPLM annual giving and membership coordinator, tells the story of Webb Cook Hayes and how he founded HPLM in her recently released book, “A Son’s Dream: Colonel Webb C. Hayes and the Founding of the Nation’s First Presidential Library.” The book is available in the HPLM Museum Store for $14.99. 

Meghan Wonderly

Wonderly has been actively involved at HPLM for many years. A native of Fremont, she visited Spiegel Grove for field trips in elementary school. In high school, she volunteered in the manuscripts division and was an intern in that department during her college years. She also served as a tour guide in the Hayes Home. She has been the annual giving and membership coordinator since January 2015. 

During her undergraduate career, she attended New York University before graduating from Oberlin College with a bachelor’s degree in English. She is working on a master’s degree in history at Bowling Green State University.

The Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Library & Museums is America’s first presidential library and is celebrating its centennial this year. It is located at Spiegel Grove at the corner of Hayes and Buckland avenues in Fremont, Ohio. The facility is affiliated with the Ohio History Connection. 

For information, call 419-332-2081, or visit Like HPLM on Facebook at follow on Twitter at @rbhayespres. 

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Hayes Presidential Library and Museums Celebrates Its Centennial, May 28 - 30

Hayes Family and the Historic Sandusky River Cruise 

HPLM Executive Director Christie Weininger Introduces German Rojas, Paraguayan Ambassador During the Centennial Celebration

HPLM Executive Director Christie Weininger and the Paraguayan Ambassador in the Rotunda During the Centennial Celebration

HPLM Executive Director Chistrie Weininger during Centennial Celebration

"The President's Own" Performing on the Verandah During the Centennial Celebration

Centennial Celebration Visitors Enjoying "The President's Own" Performance on the Hayes Home Verandah

Servers Ready for the Farm to Table Dinner at the Centennial Celebration

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Members of the Firelands Postcard Club Research at the Hayes Presidential Library

Lou Schultz joined Firelands Postcard Club members (left to right) Jeff Brown, Roger Dickman, and Jim Semon on a recent visit to the Hayes Presidential Library and Museums. Their interest in the photographs of the late Ernst Niebergall prompted their research visit. 

Niebergall, a professional photographer, settled in Sandusky sometime before WWI.  He photographed the communities along the shoreline of Lake Erie. From ice harvesting and railroads to early aviation and island leisure activities, the Niebergall photographs depict the everyday lives and activities of residents of Lake Erie's southern shoreline communities. The black and white photographs, the majority taken between 1909 and 1918, provide a record of communities in transition as old methods gave way to advances in industry and technology. 

Preserved at the Hayes Presidential Library and Museums are more than 4,000 Niebergall photographs.  Many appear online at Lake Erie's Yesterdays. The club members are researching the possibility of creating a publication featuring some of Niebergall's photographs. Members have already collected numerous postcards that Niebergall produced. Most recently, Mr. Semon has worked with Tiffany Middleton in publishing Clydesdale Motor Truck Company: An Illustrated History 1917 - 1939.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Joseph's Department Store, Fremont, Ohio

The original Joseph’s Department Store in Fremont, Ohio was established in 1864 by Jacob Joseph.  After the death of Jacob, his sons, Barney and Isaac, successfully operated the store until 1929.  The three-story brick building on the Northeast corner of Front and Garrison Streets in Fremont, Ohio was then leased to the Danziger family of Columbus, Ohio in 1931. Louis Danziger, along with his associates, managed the department store for several decades, making it a fixture of the Fremont business community.This photograph, along with other Joseph's Department Store materials was donated by Nathan Danziger.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Ballville School in Ballville Village, Ballville Twp. Sandusky County, Ohio ca. 1895 - 1898

Ballville School ca. 1895 - 1898
Ellen Hughes, Teacher
Ben Nesbitt, Hazel Smith, Blanche Smith, Eva Hite
Edd Tindall, Frank Moore, Lymon Smith, Bessie Smith
Charles Bauman, WebbWilliams,Rachel Moore, Jessie Spayde
Lydia Smith, Lottie Tarman, Laura Swisher, George Welch, 
Edna Foreman, John Bauman, Walter Grubb, Fannie Lewis, 
George Lewis, Martin Smith, Clyde Fisher, Besie Gilson, 
Elmer Smith, Della Foreman, Herman Bauman, John Moore, 
Stella Grubb, Nancy Smith, Albert Bauman, Flossie Grubb

It is always a delight to find photographs of children who attended the early rural schools. The image above is extra special because it not only tells the name of the school and approximate date, but lists the names of all the students. Unfortunately, the names were written as a vertical list rather than identified by row. (Notice the little boy in the doorway.) 

Friday, February 12, 2016

Hayes Presidential Library and Museums Will Soon Be 100 Years Old!

This Memorial Day the Hayes Presidential Library and Museums in Fremont, Ohio, the nation's first presidential library, will be 100 years old! This picture was taken during the construction in 1916.