Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Fall 2012,
Fall 2012

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Original Images:

Author: James Mann

Until recently there stood a house by the intersection of Michigan Avenue and U. S. 23, notable for many perhaps, because it stood alone surrounded by overgrown wild grass. The house had the appearance of neglect and age. The house was old as it was built in 1840. This was the site of Robert’s Corner.

This was the farm of the Roberts family, on the old Chicago Road, now Michigan Avenue. The house was originally a stage coach stop, where the horses were changed, and travelers could relax for a bit. What became the dining room was at first the tavern, where whiskey was two or three cents a shot.

In the traven was a large fireplace, where travelers would circle around and tell stories, or gaze into the flames of the fire as steaks were broiled. This fireplace was also a means for deciding the order in which guests were treated to rounds of drinks. “When time lagged and excitement was wanted, someone suggested that they all lie down in front of the fireplace for the drinks. A circle was drawn from one corner of the hearth to the other out and away from the fire about an arm’s length. All stretched out on the floor with their heads to the mark and extended an arm toward the fire. He who could leave his hand against the heat the longest time would be the winner. The one with the shortest arm usually won. The first to give up was the first to treat, and so on in turn. The last one only would be the real winner,” noted The Ypsilanti Record of Thursday, February 8, 1917.

In May of 1911 a new bride arrived at the farm named Clara Roberts. Charles married the former school teacher in the Episcopal Church. The couple made the journey to the farm in a carriage from the livery of Oliver Westfall. The couple had to wait as the wheels were changed to runners, as there was eight feet of snow on the ground. As they rode to the farm, the couple probably snuggled close for warmth, as it was eight degrees below zero. At the time what is now Michigan Avenue was a single dirt track road.

Years later Clara would see the first improvements in the road, as the farm was the headquarters for the crew. The workers were, for the most part, prison labor. The heavy work was done with teams of horses and the men slept in a huge tent in the field behind the barn.

“Water from the Roberts farm was used exclusively for a distance of ten miles along the roadway and a doctor, imprisoned in a notorious abortion case, was responsible for its purity. Although the men were fed state food and had their own cooks many had money of their own and supplemented the meals with sandwiches and pie made by Mrs. Roberts. The doctor took the orders from the men, made the deliveries and saw that Mrs. Roberts was paid. She remembers that their favorite pie was lemon,” reported The Ypsilanti Press of May 22, 1961. Clara Roberts was still on the farm when modern machines were used to pave and widen the road, by changing the landscape to its present shape.

Roberts Corner had another landmark as well, that of a concession stand. For at least 32 years the Netterfield family parked their concession stand at the intersection of West Michigan and Carpenter Road. Rows of yellow lights flashed on and off to beckon families to stop for a few minutes to purchase popcorn, candy apples and more.

Every year the Netterfield family traveled from Tampa, Florida to work the fair and carnival season. Paul Netterfield had found the spot at the intersection and stayed for a week, and then two weeks, then three. Then, for years after, the family would arrive in April and open the trailer for business until the Fourth of July, when the fair season began. There is only one newspaper clipping from The Ypsilanti Press in the Roberts file in the Archives to tell the story. Whoever clipped the story from the paper forgot to write the date of publication of the story. Then again, there are still those who remember.

(James Mann is a local author and historian, a regular contributor to the Gleanings, and a volunteer in the YHS Archives.)

Photo Caption:

Photo 1: Roberts Corner was located at the intersection of Michigan Avenue and U. S. 23.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Winter 2010,
Winter 2010

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Original Images:

Author: Tom Dodd

A before-standardization memoir: We learned more than our teachers suspected in the schools of our childhood.

“School stinks!” we proclaimed when we wanted to say something unkind about our childhood headquarters, and indeed, the schools of our past did have a unique smell about them. One wonders if today’s tots enjoy the same sensory experiences we knew in schools that had wooden floors, slate blackboards, wet plaster walls, oak trim moldings, cork bulletin boards, coal and/or steam heat, and windows that actually opened. And we had those long cords on the window shades that could be tied into hangman’s knots! Today’s kids just have iPods.

Our teachers sometimes accused us of “not paying attention” but, in reality, we paid attention to far more than they realized. We saw, heard, tasted and smelled everything that was going on. For some unexplained reason, our library paste was laced with mint flavoring, but the teachers warned us not to eat it. We ate it anyway. We never used “library paste” in the library; only in the elementary classrooms.

Mimeograph ink was so delicious that, when the teacher handed out new papers (“Take one for yourself and pass them back!”), it was the custom to bury our face in the top sheet and inhale deeply. Long before we heard that Morning Glory seeds had a hallucinatory effect, we were convinced there was some magical quality in the smell of that purple mimeo ink. In those days, “purple” was an exotic color, only to be used by “fancy ladies.” That was long before rip-stop nylon backpacks in purple, pink and chartreuse.

A faint odor of peanut butter & jelly wafted from the lockers in the corridor. In some spots it was mixed with the gentle hint of urine. Old, forgotten sandwiches sometimes mixed into a potion of ingredients nearly unrecognizable by semester’s end. The bright pink deodorizer cakes in the bathroom urinals smelled worse than the smells they were trying to cover up, but they were fun to pee on.

Old books in the library had a musty, mysterious quality about them. The giant dictionary on a reading stand had alphabetized thumbholes on the side and, when you riffled the gold-edge pages with your thumb, the odor of antiquity wafted clear over to the kid doing homework across the table. These were the most popular reference materials available to us, and contained most of the banned words that we had been wondering about. They were easy to find; these pages had been opened so regularly that just placing the book on its spine would cause it to open to the favorite sections. We had to wash our hands after handling those smelly, old books, but it was worth it.

Wood pencil shavings had an “up north” aroma about them but, when mixed with graphite from pencil sharpeners (grinders), they made a dirty mix of pine pitch and acrid chemicals that we were sure were poisonous. At least it killed the plants on the windowsill.

Soft, pink pencil erasers were a “smellifluous” addendum to childhood - until you brushed the crumbles off the page when they mixed with the former pencil marks. Then they were a minor-grade poison. Art Gum erasers were the best crumbles to collect. You could chew on them too, but we did not swallow. Those green or gray kneaded erasers looked like chewing gum, but tasted terrible.

Rubber cement was voted the most volatile smell in the classroom and painting it on your cheek or forearm and then squeezing it together when nearly dry made the most believable facsimile of a terrible scar. Walking around with a severe limp added to the wounded-soldier-affectation and sniffing the cement reminded us to stay in character for maximum effect.

Airplane glue came later, and we quit destroying our brain cells just in time to get into college. Most of our projects started out soberly but became more sloppy and disorganized as time went on. We never understood what caused that and blamed it on our short attention spans. Imagine a skillfully constructed airplane fuselage with wads of wrinkled tissue paper hanging off the tail. That’s the “designer” taking a nap face-down on his desk. (“Fuselage?” There’s a word we have not seen since the days of Willow Run!)

The custodian dumped a sweeping compound on the floor and pushed it around with a four-foot-wide dust mop in an effort to collect the dirt without sweeping the dust up into the air. The compound seemed to be a mix of reddish sawdust and some kind of sweet-smelling oil. When the custodian was on call with the “slop bucket,” that usually meant there was a “throw-up” somewhere and the corridor did not get dusted for another hour. Students could volunteer to dust for the custodian, but no one ever volunteered to slop the vomits - even though the wringer on the slop pail was great fun to play with. Throw-ups were a common - but still surprising - smell in the corridors. No matter what a sick kid had eaten earlier, it always smelled like a mixture of orange juice and tomato juice. Who do you know who has TWO glasses of juice for breakfast? Today, “throw-up” is a term used by graffiti artists. Vomits are just called vomits now.

When contractors repaired the school’s roof, we collected their droppings and chewed on tasty chunks of warm, black tar. The flavor was a lot like Beeman’s Pepsin chewing gum and the blackness made our teeth look whiter.

Gym lockers gave us the worst and probably most memorable smells. In the days when only women used deodorants, we brought our own towels to school. Some days there were only two or three “acceptable” towels available from donors in gym class, and that was enough to convince most athletes to take theirs home for washing. Long after our gym clothes were washed, the mildew smell remained since not everyone had the same tolerance level for the stench of moldy towels, shorts, shirts and jock straps. It seems the acrid odor had seeped into the steel of the lockers, never to dissipate.

Orange peelings left over from lunch could be placed in the bottom of a gym locker to mask the smell of athletic appurtenances, but they had to be removed after two weeks - or the fruit flies made their presence known to the coach. We were surprised to see that orange turned to dark green in two weeks and most of the smell was gone by the time that green color appeared.

Milk cartons didn’t seem to have much smell about them at first, but if kept in the back of your desk with a few inches of liquid in them for a week or so, they soon joined the other mysteries of that dark space as beacons to direct you to your overdue homework.

Dixie cups were a much anticipated school treat and, when the ice cream was gone, it was still satisfying to keep sucking on the tiny lozenge-shaped wooden spoon that had been stuck to the top of the original product. If you were able to save the spoon until the bus ride home in the afternoon, it was a clear signal to everyone else that your class had a treat… and perhaps they didn’t. Not much flavor was left three hours after the ice cream was gone, but the wet wood had a naturalistic and subtle flavor that lasted long into the day.

Some of the most exotic smells came from our four-hundred-year-old virgin Latin teacher, Miss Virginia Dowdy. On warm days she emitted a tangy sour-milk smell. That was the signal to take up a collection for her annual Christmas present: a blue glass vial of Evening-in-Paris perfume. The larger bottle would last until near the end of second semester as Miss D slathered the not-too-subtle hints of a continental lifestyle across her entire torso.

The high school social studies teacher smelled equally wonderful. Mr. Schaeffer wore the most intriguing tan leather sport coat––often with a Real Bow Tie (not the clip-on kind). Leaning over his desk with a question, a student could get close enough to smell the leather and maybe even briefly touch the softness of the former bovine. Such brave and intimate inspection also reinforced the suspicion of other smells coming from this dapper professor: tiny bits of Sen Sen tried (unsuccessfully) to hide the fact that he smoked in the boiler room between classes, and Listerine antiseptic sometimes dribbled from the corners of his mouth. Schaeffer kept a big bottle of the volatile mouthwash in his largest desk drawer and, as there was no sink in which to spit it out, he swallowed it. He was always in his best mood for the class that met the first hour after lunch. One big bottle usually lasted a week.

Similarly, the Home Economics staffer sipped on the giant-size bottle of vanilla extract. She was one smart cookie and always jolly and friendly.

School students of an earlier age could literally “follow their noses” to a more sensory education. Maybe we could apply for a grant to open a new charter school to reinvigorate the “stinky education” we experienced before standardized testing took the senses out of learning.

Addendum by Robert Fox: “Oh yeah, and I remember the smell of the asphalt playground. Seemed like there was always some kid four years older than me who thought I needed another taste. The Catholic school paved the playground so it could be used as a parking lot on Sunday - and there was less mud tracked around. And then there was blood - so much blood. You see, I didn't like fighting, but I was big for my age and someone was always thinking I'd be a good foil for testing manhood. I had a rock jaw, but a glass nose - just a touch and my nose would gush. It became a deterrent. Those bullies with white shirts and ties - as soon as my nose bleed started, I'd grab the assailant and hug them - making certain as much of their white shirt turned scarlet red as possible. They looked gut-shot and I'd spend the remainder of the day with a head full of blood clots draining down my throat. Then there was the taste of dirty, salty snowballs. They stung twice, like a razor burn when they hit you in the face, and later when we got the paddle for throwing them.”

Scratched onto the upper-left-hand side of the chalkboard, outlined and labeled “Save” would be the daily vocabulary list with the notice “They’re going to be on the final exam.” So, if you are up to it here is your list!

Today’s vocabulary list:
Aroma, Bouquet, Fetor, Fragrance, Funk, Odor, Odorus, Odoriferous or Odiferous, Redolence, Reek, Scent, Stink, Whiff. “They’re going to be on the final exam.”

(Tom Dodd is a retired teacher, historian and author and is a regular contributor to the Gleanings. He is also the author and editor of the Depot Town Rag.)

Photo Captions:

Photo 1: A typical early classroom with wooden floors, slate blackboards, oak trim moldings, and windows that actually opened.

Photo 2: Every day we would have a new vocabulary list on the blackboard.

Photo 3: Gym lockers gave us the worst and probably most memorable smells.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Fall 2010,
Fall 2010

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Original Images:

Author: Phil Barnes

Broadway almost had a grip on her future but she backed out at the last minute and stayed home. At the urging of Dr. Hugh Norton and Professor Garnet Garrison of the University of Michigan Dance and Theater Department, Marilyn Begole had been asked to accept an opportunity to go to New York City to further her career in dance and theater. Marilyn declined, which was a decision that changed her life forever and also that of “the love of her life, Ellis Freatman. Ellis was an aspiring young attorney at the time and he had asked Marilyn to become his bride.

Little Marilyn arrived in Ypsilanti in 1930 with her parents Grace and Mack Begole. Memories of her early dance lessons prior to the age of five are vividly etched in her mind. Grace opened up a dance studio in Ypsilanti in 1934 and many of the little girls took lessons from her for twenty-five to fifty cents, which was a true bargain. The dance recitals at the Ypsilanti High School Auditorium were outstanding with up to 100 students performing. One of those girls was Lois Katon. Lois and Marilyn were best of friends and took dance instruction from Grace Begole and piano lessons from Margaret Breakey. Lois remembers how beautiful Marilyn was with her flowing curls and a big bow in the side of her hair. In describing her abilities she said “Marilyn was a lovely dancer, specializing in ballet and toe dancing. We were best of friends and stayed very close until high school.” Marilyn went to Roosevelt High School and Lois went to Ypsilanti Central. They remained close and participated in Sunday School activities in the First Methodist Church and Girl Scout functions as well.

Marilyn’s mother Grace decided to further her experience by enrolling her in the Denishawn Dancers in Detroit where she stood out as a top candidate for a future in dance. Her appearances were stunning and she continued to study under her Mother’s soft hand. Dancers from Denishawn were appearing in New York once a month and Marilyn’s work deserved an invitation to go east. Her refusal to go led to more extensive opportunities locally. With her local career flourishing, the Ben Greet Players, a professional group, came forward and offered Marilyn an opportunity to join them. She danced and acted in many performances at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre at the University of Michigan. Her career was now in the hands of Paul Hubbell, who headed the Ben Greet Players. She steadily rose to the top and was chosen to play the lead in several performances at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theater. It was her performances in these starring roles that led to the New York invitation which she refused preferring to stay at home and be close to Ellis Freatman. Marilyn’s career was important to her but love won out.

After she received her Master’s Degree in Theater Arts from the University of Michigan, Marilyn was interviewed for a job with the Milan Area Schools by the Superintendent, Mr. Drevdall. The position involved teaching drama at the High School and heading up the school plays. She was sold on the job after her interview with the Superintendent and produced two plays a year during her five years of teaching in Milan. Joan Cullip, one of Marilyn’s students in Milan said, “Mrs. Freatman was a wonderful and well liked teacher and drama coach.” Her work there is still fondly remembered by the many students who performed in the plays she directed.

Marilyn and Ellis now reside in Ypsilanti after raising their family. She and Ellis spend winter months in Florida and the rest of the year with friends and family in Ypsilanti. Ellis still says that Marilyn passed up a chance at the “big time” by not going to New York, but secretly he is very happy she didn’t go!

(Phil Barnes spent 30 years in the Milan school system as an administrator, 13 of those years as Athletic Director, and is a regular member of the Ypsilanti Morning Coffee Group.)

Photo Captions:

Keith: The first three photos should be grouped so they have a common caption and then each one has their own caption.

Photo 1a, 2a and 3a: In 1950 while Marilyn was enrolled as a student in the Department of Speech at the University of Michigan she starred in three plays.
Photo 1a: “King Lear” by William Shakespeare. Marilyn played Cordelia, daughter to Lear.
Photo 2a: “Caesar and Cleopatra” by George Bernard Shaw. Marilyn played Cleopatra.
Photo 3a: “The School for Husbands” by Moliere. Marilyn played the Shepardess.
Photo 4a: A recent picture of Ellis and Marilyn (Begole) Freatman.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Spring 2006,
Spring 2006

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Original Images:

Author: Gerry Pety

Every once in a while you come across something that at the time it was produced was truly unappreciated or recognized. Such it was with a very striking photograph taken many years ago, sometime in the late 1930's or early 1940's. It was taken by what appears to be a “medium format” camera. A camera that either used a fairly large photographic plate of glass or one that used a very sensitive lens with high quality film of the period. In whatever case, the picture was captured by a Mr. Russell Steere, a neighbor of this 219 South Huron Street house address. The Steere family lived at 309 South Huron Street when this picture of a wintry scene was taken over 60 years ago.

Every once in a while when this picture is accessed by researchers in our “address file” at the archives, people ask if a copy of it is available. It is reminiscent of an Ansel Adams photograph in that it captured on film an instant in time that passes so quickly that we rarely stop to take notice. Seems that Mr. Steere did notice both the composition and effects of direct and reflected light, to stop what ever he was doing, and capture this alluring picture that is truly frozen in time for us to enjoy these many years later! If you should like to view the original or desire a copy, it is available. We can make an exact duplicate of the original at the Fletcher-White Archives for the astoundingly price of only two dollars.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Spring 2006,
Spring 2006

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Original Images:

By Austin, Dorothy, Cindy and Dennis Norton

The Norton family is fortunate to have diaries written by Sarah Jane Knapp Norton. The diaries, starting in 1864 and ending with Sarah's death in 1906, detail the everyday life of the times, and make possible the following brief history of the Norton family's early years in Ypsilanti. These diaries have been put on DVD disks by Sarah's great great grandson, Dennis Norton and a set has been donated to the Ypsilanti Historical Society Archives.

Toward the end of the Civil War, Austin and Sarah Jane Knapp Norton and their young son Charles got the “western fever” as it was called then, and migrated westward from Sharon Springs, New York. They arrived in Ypsilanti on March 10, 1864, to the open arms of Sarah's mother who had already moved to Ypsilanti some years before. Sarah's father, Lucius Knapp had passed away sometime prior to 1862, and Sarah's mother, Zada Jones Knapp then married Timothy Showerman a member of another long time Ypsilanti family. Timothy was the widower of Zada's sister Eunice. Also living in Ypsilanti at the time Sarah and Austin came from New York were two of Sarah's aunts, Lucinda Jones Casey, and Mary Jones Elliott. Lucinda was the wife of Sam Casey who had a large farm on Prospect near Clark Road, and Mary was the wife of Parmer Elliott. A third aunt, Eunice Jones had married Timothy Showerman and was living in Ypsilanti at the time of her death in 1862.

As was not too uncommon in those times, Zada, the widow of Lucius Knapp, and Timothy, the widower of Zada's sister Eunice, married in 1862 and were living in Ypsilanti in 1864. It is interesting to note that Nathalie Elliot Edmunds, a well known Ypsilantian, is a direct descendant of Mary Jones Elliot. So at one point in the late 1850s and early 1860s, four of the Jones sisters, Zada, Eunice, Mary and Lucinda were all living in Ypsilanti, having moved there some years before from Amsterdam, New York, just west of Albany.

After moving to Ypsilanti, Austin Norton worked as a stone and brick mason constructing cellars and chimneys. He built the foundations for many buildings which are still in existence. The diaries list the names of many well known Ypsilanti families for whom Austin built foundations and in some instances entire buildings. These include Elliott, Gilmore, Kirk, Cornwell, Dusbiber, Meanwell, Bassett, Lamb, Ellis, Lawrence and more.

With no television, no telephones, no radios and no shopping malls, the social life of the times consisted mostly of visiting friends and relatives, and entertaining them in their homes for tea and/or dinner. Many times a visit a short distance out of town would necessitate staying overnight as they evidently did not care to travel after dark. Visits in the afternoon often consisted of visiting a friend and leaving a calling card or perhaps staying for tea.

The weekly activities of the churches played an important role in their lives. The women of the family also had a very busy schedule washing clothes, ironing, baking bread, sewing garments, etc. Tending the garden was another important task, providing family with fresh fruits and vegetables as well as flowers for the parlor. It seems they made almost daily trips downtown to the grocer for a pound of butter (18 cents), to the post office, milliner, meat market and to the mill. During one snowy winter day Sarah walked downtown and saw men racing their horse drawn sleighs up and down Adams and Washington Streets. It seems as though times never change as now it is cars that race down Adams and Washington.

Austin and Sarah's second son Frank was born June 1, 1867. After Charles and Frank graduated from high school, their father taught them the art of masonry. Now father and sons could work as a team enabling them to take on jobs not only in Ypsilanti but in surrounding towns including Chelsea, Dexter and Saline. Records show they worked on the Training School at Normal, as well as the Ypsilanti Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. They built the Ypsilanti Congregational Church and finished the tower in time for a July 25, 1899 dedication. An engraved stone plaque still remains on the north side of the building, visible from Emmet Street. It reads “Norton Brothers, Builders” and also names the architect. In Chelsea, the Norton Brothers built the stone Methodist Church and the bank, both of which are still standing today. Austin was well known in the community and was elected Alderman on the Prohibition Ticket.

As noted earlier, Frank Norton's brother Charles and later Charles' three sons Harry, Don and Glen were also masons who often worked on the larger projects with Austin and Frank. A grandson of Charles, Robert Norton, who graduated from Ypsilanti High School in 1941, continued the family tradition of masonry.

Frank Norton attended the Normal School and graduated with a teaching degree in 1889. He worked with his dad through the summer of that year and applied for and obtained a teaching job in Tucson, Arizona Territory. He had a teaching contract for $80 a month and spent three winters teaching in Tucson, returning to Ypsilanti each summer. During these years Frank was courting Lena Eisenlord, a fellow graduate of the Normal who lived in Farmington. The diary notes he rode his “wheel” to visit her there. During the summer of 1891 Frank built the stone cellar for his new home on Lowell Street before returning to Tucson for his last year of teaching. He arrived back home on April 13, 1892. That summer he built a small green-house, the beginning of Norton's Flower business. He grew mostly lettuce and cucumbers that following winter, selling lettuce for 15 cents a pound and cucumbers for 4 cents each to the local grocers, sometimes as far away as Detroit. He grew a few flowers and the next year added another greenhouse to increase his production. During this time he was still working with his father Austin and brother Charles. He also began to construct his own brick home at 735 Lowell Street. He was now able to grow more flowers and he hired a young man to work and watch the greenhouse while he did stone work. The demand for Frank Norton's flowers was growing and he sold carnations for 40 cents a dozen and roses for $1.50 a dozen.

“During this time more greenhouses were built and the entire family worked various jobs planting, weeding and delivering flowers and plants to the area. There were many very cold nights when they worked shifts adding fuel to the furnace to keep the crops from freezing.“

Frank married his college sweetheart, Lena Eisenlord, on September 18, 1895. They lived in Frank's newly completed house at 735 Lowell Street. Lena was in the first class of women to complete a four year course of study and graduated from the Normal at the same time Frank did on June 26, 1889. She taught at Blissfield until her marriage to Frank six years later. They had four children, Austin, born July 4, 1896; Stanley, born June 6, 1898; Margaret, born July 27, 1900; and Dorothy, born November 5, 1903.

During this time more greenhouses were built and the entire family worked various jobs planting, weeding and delivering flowers and plants to the area. There were many very cold nights when they worked shifts adding fuel to the furnace to keep the crops from freezing. In September, 1896, Sarah rented two rooms to four young ladies attending Normal for $1.00 each per month. The greenhouse was prospering and growing and Frank built an office for the business. Lena and Frank's mother Sarah did most of the delivering of flowers and plants. Many of the recipients of flowers were persons whose family names are familiar to this day. Wholesale products were often sent to Detroit on the “cars” as the interurban was called in the diary.

On Saturday, June 13, 1896, a diary entry mentions going to the bicycle races at the fairgrounds. Another favorite pastime for the family and friends was picnicking by the river up near the Paper Mill, a place Frank called Riverbrink.

One day Sarah rode as far as the Baptist Church with Will Meanwell. The Baptist Church at that time was located on the southeast corner of W. Cross and Washington Streets. From there she walked over to Depot Town to pay the meat bill at Smitties; then over town waiting to have a hat trimmed at Mrs. Martin's. The hat was 62 cents; the work on the hat was 33 cents and Sarah furnished the trimmings. During another shopping trip in the spring of 1899, Sarah mentioned in the diaries that she purchased the following: bonnet, $1.48; tablecloth, $1.00; two dresses, $1.35; two aprons $1.00; gloves, 35 cents; perfume 35 cents; stockings, 34 cents; toys for the kids, 40 cents. She was an avid reader and made many visits to the Ladies Library for books and magazines. She mentions reading “Good Old Times” by E. Kellogg.

Sarah notes in the diary that on July 4 1899, the fireworks over the river caught a large oilcloth on fire and rockets and Roman candles went off in every direction. There was a mad rush to leave and many people were injured.

After a lengthy illness Austin died on December 2, 1905. The service was at the house with burial in Highland Cemetery. Eleven months later on November 5, 1906, after a short illness, Sarah died and was buried alongside her husband. With the death of Sarah went the wonderful writer of the diaries telling of our family's early activities and way of life.

The early 1900's were busy times for Frank Norton and his family. Frank was still working on occasion in the mason business with brother Charles but was spending more and more of his time in the greenhouses. In the meantime Lena had started her own business, a photo studio. An advertisement lists the following services: Expert Developing and Printing, Any size roll or pack developed for 10 cents… Prints up to 3 × 4 inches, ½ cents each… Prints up to 4 × 6, 3 cents each… Roll films for sale and cameras to rent, 10 cents a day. In later years Lena became an accomplished painter. This hobby was cut short by blindness caused by glaucoma at age 69. With sublime courage she immediately took up the study of Braille. She soon mastered the system and was able to enjoy all the current books as well as the classics of literature. With the use of a straight edge guide devised by Frank, she continued to write letters and thus carried on a gratifying correspondence with family and friends. During this period she crocheted rugs, helped with mailing at the greenhouse office and had a role in the basic work of making floral sprays and wreaths, the colors of which she was never again to see. She also started composing poetry. Since she could not use a pencil for notes, Lena retained each poem in her memory and would later dictate to someone for a permanent record. These poems were put in book form and each family member is able to enjoy her writings.

“Stanley had become interested in orchids and decided to make that his hobby. He, along with son Austin and two others traveled to Mexico in 1941 to gather orchid plants. It was very successful as several bags of orchids were collected. He found others interested in orchids and with two other men founded the Michigan Orchid Society.“

Frank was active in the community serving as Alderman and also as the Mayor of Ypsilanti from 1912 to 1914. He also enjoyed painting as he and Lena shared their love of the arts together. To this day, the family still enjoys many of these paintings in their homes. Frank was also skilled at taxidermy. He at one time had quite a collection of native Michigan birds along with some he had collected from hunting while in Arizona teaching school. He donated all his birds to the Science Department in Shezer Hall at the Normal College. They were still there, in glass cases on the third floor, when Sherzer Hall was all but destroyed by fire in 1989.

Frank and Lena's son, Austin, was a founding member of the local Boy Scout organization in Ypsilanti which was formed December 12, 1910. The local troop made a demonstration of various skills. A remarkable event of this demonstration was the breaking of the world and scouting record for making a fire by rubbing two sticks together. This fete was accomplished by Austin Norton in approximately eleven seconds. In recognition, he was presented a specially ornamented set of sticks by Ernest Thompson Seton, head of the American Boy Scout organization. Austin also marched with the scouts in Detroit in September, 1911, as the honor guard for President William H. Taft. He was also an accomplished mandolin player and while in high school taught mandolin at University of Michigan.

World War I came along and Frank's and Lena's second son, Stanley, enlisted in the tank corps, serving in France. He returned home in 1919 only to have his brother Austin die of tuberculosis a short time later on June 4, 1919. Stanley's little sister Dorothy, died on August 7 from the flu during the pandemic of 1919. With the loss of two of Frank and Lena's children, it was a sad time for the Norton family.

Upon returning from the war Stanley Norton worked for his dad and attended the Normal College where he met his future wife, Ellen Wallace from Bay City who was a student there. After graduating, she taught school in Capac before coming back to Ypsilanti after her marriage to Stanley on March 10, 1923. They moved into a new home at 737 Lowell Street. It was a beautiful, all stone house and was one of the last houses to be built by Frank. Stanley joined the floral business and it became Norton and Son, Florist. Stanley and Ellen welcomed the births of their two children, Austin (named after Stanley's late brother) on June 15, 1924 and Jean, on August 18, 1926. Austin began working in the greenhouses at the tender age of 9. He called himself the chief weed puller. His pay was 5 cents an hour and Stanley had to teach him the difference between a weed and a flowering plant. By the time he was 12 he had saved enough money to buy a beautiful new bike. It was a Montgomery Ward two wheeled bike with balloon tires and shiny chrome plated fenders. With this bike he was able to set up a magazine route. With the help of his mother Ellen, he enlisted the ladies hair salons selling Colliers, American Home Journal and a couple others. He won a prize for selling so many magazines. The prize was a No. 2 wood golf club called a brassie, the start of a life long love of golf.

In the early 1930's Austin and his cousin Tim Smith, son of Stanley's sister Margaret Norton Smith, worked with their great uncle, Charles Norton building a brick house on the northeast corner of Ann and St. John Streets. Austin and Tim were barely ten years old but could really pound the nails. They can now proudly look back at having worked with one of the men who helped build Ypsilanti.

Stanley's family all became involved in helping out in the greenhouses. Ellen would work in the flower shop and daughter Jean, while of high school age also helped out. Son Austin delivered flowers after school. When he was a junior in high school he took over one of his dad's winter jobs. The heat for the greenhouses was generated by burning coal. The hopper that fed the main boiler held $3/4 of a ton of coal and had to be filled every night at 11 pm, which would last until 8 am the following morning. This became Austin's job while he was in high school. The greenhouses used two rail car loads of coal every winter, and that was a lot of shoveling. Stan, as he liked to be called, was active in the community and like his father and grandfather served on the Ypsilanti City Council.

Stanley and Austin shared the job of fumigating the greenhouses for insects. It took 200 pounds of dried tobacco leaves every few months. The leaves were burned in flat round trays that were two feet across and which were hung in the greenhouses about 20 feet apart. They would begin in the farthest corner from the exit, light them as fast as they could go, and then quickly get out. All windows and doors were locked and shut tight to keep the smoke inside. One day a bunch of neighborhood kids, including Austin, tried smoking it. Boy, did they get sick! They all had a hard time telling their mothers what happened so they covered themselves by saying they had been eating green apples.

Stanley had become interested in orchids and decided to make that his hobby. He, along with son Austin and two others traveled to Mexico in 1941 to gather orchid plants. It was very successful as several bags of orchids were collected. He found others interested in orchids and with two other men founded the Michigan Orchid Society. He went on to become one of the national judges at orchid shows. The Michigan Orchid Society began by holding their first Palm Sunday Orchid Show at Norton's Greenhouses on Lowell Street in the early 1940's. This event continued for many years and became a very popular attraction, not only for local people but those from other areas.

On December 7, 1941, the U.S. declared war after the bombing by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor, which changed the lives of everyone in the family. After graduating from Ypsilanti High School in 1942 Austin enlisted in the Navy, but was allowed to attend Michigan State Normal College for one year before going into active duty. He served aboard the aircraft carrier USS Bunker Hill in the Pacific. After discharge he married Dorothy Rice, his high school sweetheart. At this time he decided to go into business with his dad. He and Dorothy left for East Lansing where he enrolled at Michigan State University in the horticulture program. While there a son Dennis was born on May 25, 1947. That same year Frank Norton at age 80, the founder of Norton's Flowers, passed away. Lena Norton, due to her blindness, moved in with Stanley and Ellen who alternated with Lena's daughter Margaret Smith in caring for her. Still sharp of mind she died in 1956 at age 86.

Upon college graduation Austin, Dorothy and young son Dennis moved back to Ypsilanti into grandfather Frank's house on Lowell Street. A year later March 7, 1950 daughter Cynthia was born. After Austin returned to work in the business, Stanley had more time and became a well known figure at orchid shows throughout the country. One of the highlights of their travels was their trip to the International Orchid Convention in Bangkok where they were invited to a banquet at the royal palace.

In the 1950's it became evident that Eastern Michigan University was going to need the Lowell Street property for expansion of their campus. Norton's bought land on Washtenaw Avenue and in 1959 a store and two greenhouses were constructed and the business moved to its new location. The annual Palm Sunday orchid show continued to be a major attraction. At the age of 5 Cindy became an integral part of the family business. During the orchid shows she delighted customers and orchid lovers by greeting them as they arrived at the exhibit and offering paper and pencils to enter the prize drawing.

As young children both Dennis and Cindy have fond memories of traveling with their Dad in the big panel truck filled with geranium plants to the Eastern Market in Detroit. They left at 4 o'clock in the morning and a hot dog breakfast was the fare of the day. They grew up working in the family business. Through the years they pulled weeds, planted seedlings, learned floral design and were indispensable during holidays when the working hours were long. Austin served the community in many ways including his election to the Ypsilanti Board of Education. Austin's wife, Dorothy, having a Cleary College education in business took over the office management plus helping at the retail end when needed.

After graduating from Eastern Michigan University, Dennis entered the business. He already had much knowledge of the floral business working holidays and summers through his school years.

Through high school and after graduating from EMU Cindy entered and learned all the demands of the business: bookkeeping, sales clerk, greenhouse care, floral designer, wedding manager, gift ware buyer, managing day to day operations and becoming Vice President and partner with brother Dennis. Cindy left the business in 1991 when she relocated near New Orleans. Dennis was now sole proprietor of Norton's Flowers in as much as Austin and Dorothy had both retired.

During this time Ellen became ill and for several years Stanley lovingly cared for her. She died one day short of her 87th birthday in 1988. The family had lost a wife, a mother, grandmother and great grandmother, and a great corsage maker. Stanley missed her but continued on living a full life with family and friends. He jokingly said he was just “hanging on by a thread” but the thread was pretty strong. In 1991 at age 93 the thread broke. The greatly loved patriarch of the family was gone.

Dennis had visions of broadening the scope of the family businesses by developing the Washtenaw Avenue property, and went on with perseverance and hard work to oversee the development of Fountain Square Shops consisting of 14 additional stores. The family still owns that shopping center. During the early 80s Dennis and a friend founded the Yankee Air Museum at Willow Run which has become a great attraction for locals and tourists. Currently he is president of Michigan Aerospace Foundation, which is raising funds to rebuild the museum that was tragically destroyed by fire. Through his working years, Dennis volunteered and served on the Board of Directors for many local organizations including many Ypsilanti Chamber of Commerce Committees, the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum Board, the Ann Arbor Chamber of Commerce Board, Ann Arbor Visitors and Convention Bureau Board, Ypsilanti Jaycees and many others.

Dennis married, and two children, Sheri and David, both worked in the business during their school years, Sheri in the office and sales and David in delivery and other jobs. Since Dennis's children had moved on to other endeavors and would not be continuing in the floral business, he retired and sold the business in 2001, leaving it in the hands of four of the former managers of Norton's, people who had been his managers for many years. So Norton's Flowers, the business Frank Norton started in 1892 continues on today in three locations, Washtenaw Avenue, Westgate Mall and Plymouth Road mall.

Over the years, the Norton's watched as what was the old Normal College and is now Eastern Michigan University grew up and eventually encompassed the old homestead. After having been located on Lowell Street for 100 years since 1867, all that remains on the original property where the greenhouses and homes were is a large walnut tree planted by Stanley in 1923 when he moved into his new stone house with his bride Ellen.

Austin and Dorothy, retired since 1987, have lived on the west side of Ypsilanti since 1965. Cindy, who presently works for Pfizer, moved back to Ypsilanti a number of years ago and also resides on the west side of Ypsilanti. She is presently on the Board of Directors of the Ypsilanti Area Chamber of Commerce.

Dennis and his wife Carol live just north of Ypsilanti, not far from the original Knapp farm on Superior Road where the first Austin Norton quarried stone for his mason business in the late 1800s. They have three children, Sheri, David and Michelle, and six grandchildren, Kaitlyn, Austin, Taylor, Spencer, Alexa and Sydney. It is fitting that David's sons, Austin age 11, and Spencer age 9, are proudly carrying on the Norton name.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Winter 2005,
Winter 2005

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Original Images:

Author: Erik J. Pedersen

By Dr. Erik J. Pedersen

While doing research for this article I was impressed and amazed with how much influence certain individuals can have on a community. Just as amazing is how quickly we can forget about these individuals and their contributions with the passing of time. William and Lucy Osband were two people who had a significant impact on the Ypsilanti community during the late 1800's. One written account, found in the Ypsilanti Historical Society Archives, referred to the Osbands as”…two citizens who influenced the life of this part of the country for half a century.”

“Her primary motivation came from the conviction that physical exercise was important to the health and welfare of the students she cared so much about.”

William and Lucy Osband were involved in many community activities. William, in particular, was a member of several civic organizations and was often elected to leadership positions in those groups. Lucy was an early member of the Ladies Literary Club and twice served as the organization's president. However, the primary reason this couple had such an influence on the Ypsilanti community was the fact that William was the editor and proprietor of The Ypsilantian, the local paper. Archival resources referred to The Ypsilantian as a paper of “high literary quality and that the articles reflected a wide range of interests” (Ypsilanti Archives). Another source indicated that it was “outspoken and fearless.” The Ypsilantian was considered as lively reading, and people of the community regarded it as their own.

Lucy Osband wrote most of the editorials. She also wrote a column called “Ypsi Dixits.” Lucy had a keen sense of humor and the “Ypsi Dixits” gave her an opportunity to express her insight and knowledge on a variety of topics. (Ypsilanti Archives) To reflect on all of the accomplishments and contributions this couple gave to the City of Ypsilanti would require more space than could be provided in this article. Since my initial interest in doing this research was centered on Lucy Osband, this article will focus on her career as a professor at the Michigan State Normal School and the influence she had in starting the Physical Education Department.

Introduction

Wilber Bowen, Lloyd Olds, Fanny Cheever Burton, Ruth Boughner, and Augusta Harris are names from the past that are frequently mentioned when referring to the history of the Physical Education Department at Eastern Michigan University. All of these persons were important and all deserve recognition. However, one name that frequently appears in archival records has received virtually no recognition. This person arrived on the Michigan State Normal College Campus in the 1880's and promoted “Physical Culture” before anyone else. Without her influence, Wilber Bowen would very likely have remained in the Normal College Math Department, the Physical Education facility completed in 1894 would never have been built, and the Physical Culture Department established in 1894 would never have been realized.

Why haven't the contributions of such an influential and dynamic individual been recognized? Why has the name of Lucy Aldrich Osband all but remained anonymous whenever the history of Physical Education at the Michigan State Normal School been discussed? The purpose of this article is to recognize this “Forgotten Lady” and highlight her role in the establishment of one of the nation's first Physical Education preparation programs.

Lucy Aldrich was born in a log farmhouse in Arcadia, New York. She came from a strong Quaker and Puritan family background. Very early in her childhood. Throughout her life she was weak and frail. Several times during her teaching career, she needed to take long leaves of absence to recover from the stress related to her teaching responsibilities. Because of ill-health, Lucy was not always able to attend school. Consequently, her parents, who were both teachers, supervised most of her education at home. They insisted on good study habits and expected Lucy to recite every lesson perfectly. Lucy later attributed her conviction for thorough and accurate work to her parents.

Despite poor health and a home education, Lucy Aldrich became an outstanding teacher and scholar. During her teaching career, she taught courses in calculus, analytical geometry, literature, modern language, botany, physiology, and “Swedish Drill.” Her college studies and professional background were primarily in the natural sciences. Botany was her major area of interest. She eventually became head of the Natural Science Department at Michigan State Normal College. It is unusual and remarkable that someone with such serious health problems and extensive academic background would support and promote physical activity.

At the age of sixteen, Lucy Aldrich entered the Newark Union School. She was the only girl in a class of thirteen. Because Lucy was a girl, there was no guarantee that employment would be available upon graduation. However, the quality of her academic efforts was recognized and at the age of nineteen she was able to obtain a teaching position at Phelps High School in New York. Within a year she was appointed Preceptress of Walworth Academy. Miss Aldrich remained in this position for two years. Soon the efforts of teaching once again affected her health. She needed a better climate to ease her lung problems. In a letter to Fredrich B. McKay, a member of the Eastern Michigan College Faculty, Lucy Osband's daughter indicated that her mother suffered from “incipient T.B.” at that time in her life. (M. Osband 1944).

Lucy Aldrich became principal of the Sylavan Villa Seminary, a young ladies school in Standardsville, Virginia. Judging from several historical accounts, it was during this period of her life that Lucy Aldrich was introduced to outdoor activities and the benefits of physical exercise. One account indicated that”…Here she learned the lessons taught by the foothills of the Blue Ridge, and often joined parties of excursionists to the natural places of the state. Altogether it was an out-of-door life for the mind as well as the body.” (Aurora, 1894, p26).

After two years in Virginia, Lucy Aldrich returned to New York and entered Genesee College in Lima, New York. Genesee was only the second college in the country which did not discriminate against women in its admission requirements. Lucy did so well in her studies that she earned the distinction of being class valedictorian. In the same graduating class was William M. Osband whom Lucy married two months after graduation.

The Move to Michigan

After graduation and their marriage, William and Lucy Osband taught at the Gouverneuer Wesleyan Seminary in New York. In 1864 and 1865, they both accepted positions at Albert University in Belleville, Ontario, Canada. They arrived in Michigan when William became the principal of Northville Union School. After three years, they purchased a home in Ypsilanti. The birth of their only child, Marna and homemaking duties kept Lucy temporarily out of the classroom. However, when William accepted a position at Oliver College, Lucy was coerced into teaching Greek. Within one year, Albion College offered both William and Lucy department head positions. He took over the Natural Science Department and she became head of the Modern Language Department. Lucy also served as the university Preceptress. After six years at Albion, William and Lucy returned to their home in Ypsilanti.

Lucy Osband's interest in the natural sciences increased when she taught in Virginia. Her travels in the south and east familiarized her with the plants from those regions. Marine Life also fascinated her. With these interests and background, she became an instructor in the Natural Science Department at Michigan State Normal College in 1883. When a chairmanship in that department was established in 1884, she was hired to fill it. The accomplishments of Lucy Osband in the Natural Sciences are too numerous to describe in this article. Attention will focus instead on an area for which she also accomplished a great deal and received very little recognition — Physical Education.

Lucy's Interest in Physical Culture

Immediately upon arriving at the Normal School, Lucy Osband started teaching classes in “Swedish Work.” These classes were taught in addition to her responsibilities in the Natural Science Department. She received no extra pay for teaching “Swedish Work,” only the satisfaction of knowing that exercise was contributing to the health and welfare of the students. Lucy would take her physiology classes into the University Chapel, stand students in the aisles, and lead them in “Swedish Routine Movements” with dumbbells and Indian Clubs. (M. Osband 1944). Eventually she was give a basement room in the Old Main building, where her program included military marching, wands, pulley weights, and “Swedish Apparatus.” The former campus gymnasium had burned down in 1873 so there wasn't an appropriate place to hold Physical Culture classes. Lucy Osband would eventually change that.

The two photographs shown were probably taken from the new Physiology and Hygiene Course developed by Lucy Osband in 1886–1887. The new course included “practical work” in the application of the physiological laws of gymnastics. These sessions were held on a weekly basis in the basement of the Old Main Building.

Lucy Osband persuaded many others to join her physical culture classes. Normal School instructors from other disciplines were “fair game.” Two of her recruits, Wilber Bowen and Carolyn Crawford, made significant contributions to the field of Physical Education. Wilber Bowen was an instructor in the Normal College Math Department. Lucy convinced him that physical education was a growing discipline and that he should consider pursuing a career in that area. He agreed! While teaching math, he studied physiology at the University of Michigan. He also began teaching physical culture classes at the Normal School in 1888. Bowen eventually became the first Physical Culture Department Chairman. Bowen wrote eleven books and published many research articles. He was recognized as a leader in the field for over forty years and is referred to as the “Father of Physical Education in the State of Michigan.”

Lucy Osband's daughter Marna, recalls”…at the Normal School, besides building up the Natural Science Department, her mother established out of her physiology classes, the Department of Physical Education.” (M. Osband 1944). Lloyd Olds, in an article titled “A Brief History of the Health, Physical Education, Recreation, and Athletic Department” noted that Lucy Osband “arranged for additional classes on the theory and practice of Physical Culture.” (Olds N-D). This course was first offered at the Normal School in 1888 and was one of the first teacher training courses in Physical Culture at any college or university in the country.

The New Gymnasium

One achievement for which Lucy Osband received some recognition was the construction of a new physical education facility which was completed in 1894. “How a Wily Woman Got a Gym for E.M.U.” is how Ralph Chapman described Lucy Osband's approach for obtaining funds to build a new physical education facility. (Chapman 1977). Lucy's approach provides an interesting and insightful story.

The Normal College had been without a “Physical Culture” facility since the first gymnasium was destroyed by fire in 1873. Due to the lack of a Physical Education facility, Wilber Bowen left the Normal College in 1891 to teach at the University of Nebraska. Lucy Osband convinced Professor Sill, Normal School Principal, that a new gymnasium was necessary. However, convincing the State Board of Education was another matter. The State Board, in the early 1890's, did not think favorably about “Physical Culture.” The timing and approach for requesting funds had to be just right!

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Summer 2004,
Summer 2004

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Original Images:

Author: Doreen Binder

My family has fond memories of growing up in the “Dutch Town” area of Ypsilanti during the 1930s and 1940s. The neighborhood borders River Street to the west, Babbitt to the north, Grove on the east, and South Street to the south with Michigan Avenue cutting right through the middle. Other streets included Parsons, Lincoln, and Park. Dutch Town is now included in an area called South Depot Town.

Woodruff School, at the corner of Michigan and Park, was a local landmark. Floyd Smith was the well loved principal who cared for his students as family. Floyd was an effective role model for the boys in the school. Louella Parsons, Esther Fletcher, Jane Holzhauer, and Amy Hopkins Thomas were some of the wonderful teachers. Derwood Hagen, the Poling girls, and Bob Russell were some of the alumni. Derwood now serves as an election worker at the Adams School poll.

Businesses on the north side of Michigan Avenue going east from River Street started with Ken Brokaws gas station on the corner now occupied by Al Robinson's fish restaurant. Ken later opened Ken's Bar in Depot Town. Continuing east, Dolph Thorne's Tire and Appliance store was on the site of Lucas Restaurant, followed by the A & P store on the northeast corner of Grove and Michigan. Marsh plating is now located on that corner.

On the south side of Michigan, early businesses included Otis Tooze's Barber Shop, Herzberg's Processing (we called it a junk yard, modern jargon would call it a recycling center), Steffes Gas Station, Russell's Bakery, and C.F. Smith's Grocery on the southeast corner of Park and Michigan. Parkview Pharmacy occupied what is now the party store on the south side of Michigan Avenue. My dad, George Binder, partnered with Bernard Mcllhargie and bought the pharmacy. The pharmacy was locally called Mcllhargie & Binder Drugs where I spent many hours serving sodas and helping dad. Later, John Kealy's Bakery replaced Russell's Bakery. John's glazed donuts were memorable. Additional businesses included Al Holzhauer's Print Shop, Max Bitker's Dry Goods, and Emil Batchelor's Meat Market where neighbors bought fresh meat daily. What is now the Bomber Restaurant was started by the Baldwin family and was known as Mrs. Baldwin's Restaurant. During World War II, the family changed the name to the Bomber. The house that stood to the east of present day Al's Barber Shop was Clarence Tyrell's Plumbing Shop. Clarence taught his customers how to do repairs and he had every plumbing part a customer could ever need that only he could find. Clarence even made labor free house calls for his Dutch Town neighbors. This plumbing shop building recently burned and was demolished as a consequence of the fire. Carrie Chadwick's Piano store occupied the southeast corner of Grove and Michigan where the Mida's Muffler is now located.

In 1935, a State Police Post was erected on the southwest corner of Michigan and Park. The first commander was Frank Walker. The good looking troopers brought a new look to the area. The building recently was a rug market and will be demolished as part of the Water Street development. Gilbert Park, on the south side of Michigan Avenue and between Park Street and the railroad track, was the center of summer activities for the neighborhood kids. There were band concerts in the summer as well as supervised playground activities.

Summer ended with a “friendly” tournament with kids from all the city supervised playgrounds competing. Gilbert Park was sold by the City of Ypsilanti for an Arlans Department Store development in the 1960s. The park will be remembered as Gilbert Square when the Water Street project is completed.

Dutch Town families included the Thumns, Beggers, Harners (Ev, Harp, & Win), Horns, Hipps, Reddaways, Hinschs, Croghans, Parkers, Thibodeaux, Mayos, Malcolms, Hines, Tuckers, and others. With his automotive dream, Preston Tucker became the most famous Dutch Town resident. In an earlier issue of the Gleanings, Bob Mayo told his fond memories of delivering newspapers around Dutch Town. Carl Hipp grew up on Michigan Avenue between Park and Grove and was always eager to share his stories of the area. Carl moved up near North Congress and Wallace and recently died in his late nineties.

Within the small town of Ypsilanti, Dutch Town was a distinct community. The local businesses provided all of the needs and services a family could want. The families gave me warm memories of my childhood. As is the same story everywhere, the small businesses lost out to supermarkets and large chain stores. With the loss of businesses, Dutch Town lost its identity and is only remembered by us old timers.

Photo Caption: Doreen Binder in front of the drugstore
Photo Caption: Gas Station
Photo Caption: Woodruff School, Ypsilanti, Mich.
Photo Caption: Gilbert Park, Ypsilanti, Mich.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Summer 2004,
Summer 2004

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Original Images:

Author: William McAndrew

(Edited reprint of the story “The McAndrews” written by their son William and published as a memorial for Dr. Helen McAndrew by the Ypsilanti Business and Professional Women's Club in 1931.)

O'Henry once told an interviewer that you can change type name of any place in any good story to any other place and have the narrative just as true, which means that Ypsilanti is just as full of romance, heroism, surprise and wonder as any other settlement of its size. Ypsilanti has just as many heartbreaks, just as many smiles, just as many honest men, and just as many noble women. This is the story of two Ypsilantians.

Helen Walker, daughter of Thomas and Margaret Boyd Walker, was born February 6, 1826, at Kirkintillock, Scotland. William McAndrew was born November 28, 1824, in Perth.

In the shifting time of 1849, William, a young Scottish cabinetmaker, moved from Perth to Glasgow. There, at the frequent gatherings of a little church, he met a girl who had come up from Paisley to work in a bookbinding shop. After the usual time that elapses before Scottish people reach an important decision, the minister announced that William McAndrew and Helen Walker were to be married and go to America on their honeymoon. In due time, they added up their shillings. William packed his tool chest and Helen packed the Burns, Bunyan, Shakespeare and big Bible she had bound for herself.

Fergus Ferguson married them, and they climbed into the steerage of a sailing vessel that gave them a wedding trip of eleven weeks from the Clyde to Sandy Hook, New York. At Sandy Hook, a genial stranger with a fine Scottish burr in his voice welcomed the young couple to the land of the free and offered to show William a lodging house. Generously shouldering the new arrival's chest of tools, he disappeared in the crowd and the immigrants never saw him nor his burden more. Another Scot convinced them that New York was a squeezed orange. It was on an island, couldn't grow any more. Perth Amboy, at the head of Raritan Bay across from Staten Island, was on the mainland, much nearer the ocean and had a railway, the first one in America. Perth Amboy would be the metropolis of the United States. So, ho for the Raritan and the big city to be.

But one must eat. While Perth Amboyans are sitting on their corner lots waiting for the ships of the world to sail into their harbor, certain Cornelius Vanderbilts, William B. Astors, Peter Coopers and A.T. Stewarts, not knowing the great destiny of Perth Amboy, are doing business at the old stand in New York and getting all the trade. Grass is growing in the streets of Perth Amboy. The McAndrews must try elsewhere. Baltimore looks promising. But here they get themselves into trouble teaching Negroes to read. The neighbors don't like it. It is not respectable. Friends fall away. Better try some other place.

Out of Baltimore every morning a long white packet boat is towed by a steamer up the Chesapeake Bay and gets itself somehow or other into the wonderful West. As soon as the passage money is saved, the two McAndrew adventurers are aboard. At Havre-de-Grace, their smoky tugboat turns them over to a trio of mules driven tandem; the leader has a loop of bells springing over his collar. The lock-gates are opened and in goes our long white boat into a stone box. We float up on foaming, gurgling masses of water, until the upper gates are opened; the mule-boy shouts, the bells tinkle, the rope stiffens, and away we go through the long curves of the canal with blue hills on both sides. They take the Susquehanna all the way to Harrisburg. Then our watery road winds among the mountainous hills along the blue Juniata. Day after day we sit upon the yellow deck and watch the landscape unfold a great book, each page showing a new and charming picture; farms, factories, bridges, villages, cascades galloping down the mountains, charcoal-kilns reddening the cliffs at night, until at last mere are no more streams that may be tapped to float a boat.

We are at the very heart of the Alleghenies. But wonders have not yet ceased. A huge cradle rides down the mountain on an iron track and dangling on the end of a rope. It slides under the canal-boat. Ropes are made fast to the upright stakes protruding from the water. A man waves his arms toward an engine house up the mountain. Out of her element crawls our great boat with all its company, and like that tropic fish that climbs up trees, the packet ascends the mountain. This is Portage, then counted one of the wonders of the world, now an inconspicuous station four miles south of the Horseshoe Bend on the Pennsylvania railroad. Over the summit the boat advances and then, head foremost, down the western slope. There is a reservoir made by a dam of earth across a valley and holding water for the upper reaches of this canal in time of drought. It is a pretty lake. The passengers admire it. Yet forty years later, long after this canal had gone to ruin, this lovely mountain pool, neglected, was to break bounds and visit Johnstown with death and terror.

Into Pittsburgh, down the Ohio, then by another canal to Cleveland and so by side-wheel steamer to Detroit the travelers came. They heard of another promising settlement, destined to surpass the city of Straits. Its name was Rawsonville. It had a piano factory, woolen mills, flour mills, stores, and hotels. The river boats from Detroit, long, narrow, flat-bottomed scows with a slim walk each side down which the poleman alternately glides, slowly pushing the vessel up the Huron River, brought merchandise up and carried back the products of the region. Here William MacAndrew settled and plied his trade, constructing piano and melodeon cases from the native walnut and cherry of the valley.

Last move of all, in 1850, they came farther up the Huron River to the first station on the post-road west of Detroit, where the coaches rolled up in the evening in front of the long white Hawkins house for hot supper and a night's lodging.

To the life of Ypsilanti for half a century, the two McAndrews contributed according to their dispositions. William had acquired a religion of peculiar cast. It magnified the mysticism of Daniel the Prophet, stressed the wheels within wheels, the flying scrolls, and the prophecies of an early coming of the Lord. Not finding satisfaction in existing churches, the cabinetmaker turned carpenter and built one on the level ground northeast of town. Here he was preacher, choir and sexton; his congregation, two families besides his own. Convinced of an early dissolution of the world he saw no need of laying up treasures on earth. What he earned he turned over to a religious society appearing to him nearest in sympathy with his own belief. Ambition, worldly success, the opportunities of a growing state he sets himself steadfastly against; yet rises before the sun and works his fourteen daily hours in summer, twelve in winter, year in and year out, setting forward from time to time, the day when the heavens shall be rolled together like a scroll and the land shall be soaked with blood and the first heaven and the first earth shall pass away.

But the little wife saw different visions. She inhaled the spirit of this new land. There was employment for everybody. She found she had a talent for nursing. She could hire her own housework done and have money over from what she earned.

The McAndrews' first home was at 16 South Huron street, where their son Thomas was born June 24, 1852. Influenced by his father's example, Thomas has been identified with the furniture business during his whole business career. On January 11, 1878, he married Alice Rowley, who had filled the place of a daughter in the McAndrew household since her early girlhood.

Helen thought, why not become a physician? There was no school of medicine west of New York that would admit a woman. A colored mammy is secured as housekeeper. Helping the cook on the steamer and Erie canal boat, the pioneer woman reaches the metropolis of New York and argues the college into taking her in. She works at her bookbinding trade for her board.

Mrs. McAndrew graduated from Trall Institute, New York City, October 25, 1855. In time she grasps the coveted diploma and with a few medical books returns to the growing town, as a doctor. It isn't nice; it isn't respectable. The men physicians turn up their noses. The town doesn't think it likes this sort of thing. Only Negroes and poor whites come into her office.

Then comes the turn. The big man of the town has had a long siege of illness in his home. The gentle lady of the household doesn't get any better. He has the highbrows from Ann Arbor come and hold learned consultations by the quiet sufferers bedside. The judgment is unfavourable. The big man walks sadly in the garden. The gardener comes to home and says, “Samuel, ye might try the little Scotch woman; she pulled my Jenny through just fine.” The big man chances it. The little woman is called. She opens all the windows. She empties the bottles of bitter drugs into the drain. She cooks plain and tasty dishes. She moves the bed so as to permit a view down the green lawn and the shady street. She keeps repeating, “How much brighter you look, little lady! If you keep on like this you'll be lifting full flour barrels soon.” The sick lady at length got up and lived for many years thereafter. And the big man of the town, Samuel Post, flouted the traditions and prejudices of those who had belittled the woman doctor. “She knows what she's about,” he said. “She's a very superior woman. There's no nonsense about her, she knows the laws of health and she works along with them.” He sang her praises to the Uhls, the Folletts, the Kings and the Lays. She was great in confinement cases. Whatever men and women born in Ypsilanti are now between forty-five and sixty-five, the chances are more than even that Helen McAndrew first held them in her hands and gave them their first baths.

She was a water enthusiast. She built a water cure on Huron street and swimming bath in the river. She put in vapor baths, shower baths, mineral baths, sitz baths and preached a new gospel of scrubbing the mind clean of all meanness, selfishness, greed, conceit, intolerance, and sin. It was called outside and inside washing.

The McAndrew couple were forever in the salvage movements of the day. First it was the abolition of Negro slavery. William McAndrew helped hide the runaway Negroes in barns and drove them in wagons at night, covered with loose hay, to the outskirts of Trenton, where rowboats ferried them to Canada.

Next the McAndrews entered heart and soul into the war on the liquor saloon. They ran an afternoon temperance Sunday school in a barn on the flats, not far from the present pumping station of the city water works. They had the best part of the membership of the Normal school working in the barn and in Hewitt hall, where dramatic representations*Their son, William McAndrew, born August 20, 1863, was the producer of the dramatic representations. After graduation from the Ypsilanti High School, the Normal and the University of Michigan, Mr. McAndrew began his career as an educator, and has won distinction as a strong and militant leader, exhibiting the initiative and fearlessness which had characterized his pioneer parents. He spent thirty years in New York, first teaching at Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, and then becoming principal of the Washington Irving High School. During this period his marriage to Miss. Susan Guerney occurred. He left New York to assume the superintendency of the Chicago schools. Upon leaving Chicago, Doctor McAndrew spent two years in Europe. He now lives at Silvermine Hill, Norwalk Connecticut, and is engaged in editing “The Educational Review.” every fortnight gave entertainment and hammered home the lessons. They organized a juvenile temperance society, the Band of Hope,**In 1829 John Dunlop, Scottish justice of the peace, formed the first temperance society in Greenock, Scotland. By 1847 the need of starting the work with children was apparent, and the Band of Hope was formed. Helen Walker was then twenty-one years old and worked in the Band of Hope in Glasgow. Starting a Band of Hope in Ypsilanti about 1870, she kept it running for a decade or two. Ypsilanti men and women cherish memories of the Band of Hope and the earnest and inspired figure of the woman who dominated the weekly meetings held with absolute regularity every Wednesday afternoon. and held the children together by means of picnics, festivals and shows.

Into the woman suffrage movement both William and Helen went. Susan B. Anthony, Frances Willard, Mary Livermore and Lillie Devereux Blake came by their invitation to lecture and stopped at their home. Her experiences led her to work vigorously for the admission of women to the University of Michigan.

Into the Salvation Army they went when that elaboration of Christianity reached town. They marched the streets in their old age with the same grim determination to back up some despised reform that they had shown for abolition when it wasn't respectable, for women doctors when they were despised, for temperance when it was unpopular, for woman suffrage when it was ridiculous.

Indeed they charged themselves to obey some call of some power greater than themselves to lift up the down trodden, to heal the sick, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and freedom to those that are bound.

Withal they were quite a pair. No one ever knew of their either pushing for high place or for notice. William McAndrew always wrote “I” as a small letter and when he was told that it was incorrect replied, “It is not incorrect for me.” Both spoke in public when called upon, but you never heard them talk of themselves. Their addresses were full of anecdote, short, and to the point. They were constant readers throughout their lives, devouring history, travel, religious periodicals, current magazines and newspapers. William McAndrew, when going to fairs or expositions, wore an odd dressing-gown because the pockets generously held all the circulars given away by exhibitors and enabled him at home to extend for many evenings the pleasure of the show. Helen McAndrew held that mental exercise was as essential for the health of the intelligence as bodily exertion is needful for the physical tone. She used to carry herself for exercise. William McAndrew was fond of old tunes, but as no one else seemed to enjoy them he would retire to his room and sing several pages through at a sitting. If visitors would say, “What is that funny noise?” Mrs. McAndrew would answer, “Oh, that is William giving himself a concert.” He had the habit of work so ingrained that once when he visited a former employee at Portage Lake, doing nothing for three hours so bored him that he said he guessed it was time to go home. His host couldn't take him to Dexter to catch a train until the next noon. In the morning McAndrew walked over to a neighbor's new barn. Help was needed to finish it. He borrowed a suit of overalls, worked morning, afternoon and evening for two weeks, took his pay, paid his board at his host's, came home, and ever afterward revived memories of the best visit he ever had.

Both had singular courage. None of their acquaintances recall ever seeing either of them exhibit any trace of fear or nervousness on any occasion. She responded to calls, as a doctor, at all hours of the night, driving alone sometimes twenty miles. She led committees of women to town officials and laid down the law like a political boss, and yet she was a quiet, modest woman, with a genius for friendship, loving nothing so much as a chat and cup of tea before the fire.

Both loved Ypsilanti and its people as nothing else in the world. They were especially fond of the approach from the East up to the edge of the slope, from which one looks over the trees and the roofs of the houses and gleam of the river to the western rim of the valley and the great school on the hilltop, a lighthouse for all Michigan and beyond.

William McAndrew passed away October 22, 1895. His wife survived him eleven years, her death occurring October 26, 1906.

Photo Caption: The water-cure made necessary a three-story addition to their home at 105 South Huron street. This octagon house speaks eloquently of the energy and persistence of Mr. McAndrew, for he built it almost entirely himself in 1853 and 1854.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, August 1989,
August 1989

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Original Images:

January
1. Driving snow storm all day. About all I could do to get in water and take care of the horse and hens.
2. Not very well in the night. It seems to be healthier shoveling snow and sawing wood than lying in bed.
6. Anna and Mary at Azros for Mrs. Fletchers Birthday. Mrs. Loveridg and Mrs. Camp called and then Brother Robert and daughter called.
9. Frank paid Wife and I Interest and cleaned the old clock.
10. Eight below zero and awful cold blasts. Brave Belle walked thru the drifts to get Frank to help Will with his Milk Wagon. Too cold to saw wood.
13. Frank brot load of broken rails. Robert sold the cow he bot from Martin. Wife and Mary went to Town in the Cutter. I sawed the rails.
16. Frank's horse Dick got away at the Creamery and Frank, Azro and Willie had to walk home. A meeting to see about building a new Presbyterian Church that I don't need.
17. Frank brot a new iron pump that saves me from drawing well water on icy planks. No hens layed.
22. Not very cold but did not go to Church on account of the snow. Wrote about Burns Natal Day.
26. We hear of fifty thousand voted to build a new Church when I think the old one good enough.
31. Hail, rain, ice and snow-rough roads. Went to John Renton and got horse shod. No eggs.
February
1. Frank brot another load of rails. More snow.
4. Mrs. F, Willie and the wee boy came, Eaves dripped by noon.
7. Wrote Mrs. Young in Scotland and Sister in Canada.
13. Mild morning. A little like Spring. Light at five. Hens are beginning to lay. Robert came with his family and cleaned the Organ and played and sang for us.
15. Roads a sheet of ice. Robert sold his pigs to Spencer. John Ross came with Robert and talked of renting the old farm.
17. Cut down straw off the stack to bed the horse. Let the old farm to Robert for 10 years at $150 yearly.
22. Brother Robert brot papers. Two Miss McDouglas and two Miss Gardeners called and also Robert and his family.
23. Eagle fell on the ice twice in front of the stable when taking him off the Cutter. Wife made me a shirt and I read to her about Blain and Scotchmen Curling.
27. Frank brot a load of coal. Robert left our old farm home and wen with his family and furniture to Town.
28. Frank helped Mr. Read to move on his farm.
March 1 to March 21 is missing.
22. Twenty eggs. Frank went to Mr. Roberts funeral. He was 73.
25. Robert sold hay to Block. Wife and I west to Belles, 5 years since her marriage.
30. Wife went to see Mrs. F and the babe. Dug parsnips. Set a hen. Worked in the garden.
April
8. Frank took Seed potatoes to his farm. Trees budding.
11. Wheeled out the ashes. Smith split all the wood.
13. A fearful Cyclone struck Ypsilanti last night. Wife and I drove down and saw so many fine buildings wrecked. It was sad to see so much property wasted. One good thing no lives lost.(we have pictures in the Archives of the Cyclone that Mr. Lambie talks aboi
14. Went again to see the ruins and then to the Creamery. Stopped at Roberts home by the river.
16. I am entering my 73 years. Am grateful for a good degree of health, strength, reason and joy from youth till old age.
18. Went with Frank to Mr. Rooks and called on Mrs. Boice and james Hamilton. Got early potatoes.
20. Mary took her Mother to the Motor to go to Uncle Williams. Too wet to work in the garden.
21. Clare Campbell and his sister came. James Hamilton and sister brot plants and we gave them Gooseberry and Currant bushes.
24. Went with Frank to Mr. Hunters and saw his fine barn ruined by the Cyclone. White hen brot out 12 chicks. Planted our early Rose potatoes and two rows of Empire State potaotes and then beach blows north of them.
28. Wife and I called on Mr. Laidlaw in his gardens at the Depot. Got Wet coming home.
29. Went to Ben Voorhees-his wife was cheerful after suffering so mcu Exchanged plants with Mrs. Everts. Bot a quarter of Mutton from son Robert.
May
1. Frank took away our horse and Mary walked to Azros.
4. Went with Frank to his farm-Called on Mrs. Loveridge, Mrs. Fletche and Mr. Ross at the old home.
8. Took potatoes to J. Ross at the old home, called on Robert's town home and then to the creamery.
9. Wife, Mary, Mrs Fletcher, the babe, Frank, Robert and wife, Will and Belle and a grand happy company went to Mrs. William Campbell Birthday party.
13. Dark, damp morning-planted sun flowers and Holly hocks. Asparagus and Pie Plant to use.
15. Brother Robert and wife came and told us Eunice had gone to the World's Fair in Chicago. Mary and I went and saw the flowers in the Railroad gardens.
16. Wife and I attended the golden wedding josiah Childs. Everyone seemed kind and friendly.
22. Mrs. L, Mary, Mrs. Fletcher, Willie and the babe went to Roberts to celebrate Mary's Birthday.
23. Wife and I went to Mrs. Strangs funeral. More rain.
24. Queens Birthday. Wife and I went to see old Mrs. Crippen, R. Mart and Ira Crippen family.
29. Frank went to Uncle Andrews with the horse.
June
1. Frank went to frame a barn near Plymouth.
4. Sacrament-about 30 added to the church. Harris Francis Fletcher was baptised. The Fletchers cammed on their way home.
7. I intended to hear J.G. Paton last night but was too weary. Mary, Belle and I went to see the show parade but only saw the tents and wagons.
8. Was up before the sun. Winters got a small load of hay out of our barn. Wife had a sore place on her neck and went to see Dr. Kinne.
8. Got tomato plants from J. Hamilton. Andrew Campbell came and I went with him to the Depot.
12. Frank and I had breakfast and went to Mr. Rooks.
13. Wife, Mary. Mrs. Fletcher and wee Harris wnet to visit Willie and Leah's school.
15. Wife and I went to see Mr. & Mrs. Voorhees and it looks as though Mr. V will never walk again. Went to Thomas Phillips funeral.
19. Took Frank to Mr. Rooks-called at Azros-they came with me and wee Harris rode on my knee. Wife went to Belles to celebrate her Birthday and a picnic with others down by the River at Roberts.
20. Went to Detroit and the Oak-Will Todd and all his relatives were glad to see me. We took flowers to sister Issbelles grave. Will Todd brought me to the train and I called on James and his wife-they were all kind but sister Mary, after I was weary it vexed me.
23. Leah and Minnie helped pick peas. Winters sent up several loads of manure. Went to the depot to get Anna's trunk and saw Laidlaw Very busy contending with weeds and bugs.
26. Green peas and new potatoes for lunch. J. Ross sold the wool. I used to get it all, then half, now none.
29. Boy picking cherries-howed potatoes-Mary went in the Surrey to Belles and then they all went to Azros.
July
1. Wife and I went to Town. Got milk from Mrs. Ring.
6. Ring family picking cherries on shares. Fearful lightning in the night and it struck and burned Mathews barn.
10. Dug 1/2 bushel of potatoes-took them to the Depot-too small to sell Wife and girls preserving cherries. Mowed round the peach trees and was tired. Turned the grindstone for Frank.
18. Dug more potatoes-The Empire State seem to be the best potatoes of 4 kinds.
20. Robert and Frank rigged up the reaper and Frank came in the after-noon to reap our wheat. Mrs. campbell and daughter came. We went to the old Campbell home as of old and found John very busy drawing in wheat and made a small stack.
29. Got a letter from Mr. Dunlop in Scotland (a relative who later came to the States to visit the Campbell farm and were astonished at how far the farm was from New York City).
31. Azro sick and Robert had to manage the Creamery.
August
2. Brother Robert and daughter called. Anna, Mary and Belle took tin dishes to Azros for the Ten wedding celebration.
4. Mrs. Fletcher and Harris came. Ross began to reap Oats-Hattie's Mother came and I went with her to Roberts for a horse. Living on flour porridge is not fun.
5. Sad time with Banks breaking and so many idle men.
9. Frank had his wheat and oats thrashed, poor crop.
10. Frank, Mrs. Fletcher, Willie and Harris went to Uncle Andrews.
15. Mr & Mrs Voorhees came. Uncle William and Clare then Brother Robert. A letter from John Lambie.
19. Cut Canada Thistles in Ross corn field but it is too hard for me. Robert and the three girls came at night.
24. Frank and I had a fine swim and bath in the Huron.
29. The engine got to Ross to thrash. I went to see Laidlaw at the Depot and the beautiful gardens.
30. The engine came and thrashed our small stack. Only 36 bushels where we always had 96.
September
1. Frank took Anna to the Depot on her way to Elkhart. Put part of t Straw stack in the shed.
5. Some good peaches-more papers from Australia. Longing for rain.
8. Went to Azros for Mary-then round by Belles and got a glass of cream and a royal welcome. Picked grapes. Went to Church meeting.
12. A welcome shower. Frank brot 2 bushels of peas. Took 16 chicks to market.
14. Put down eggs for winter. Crowds going to the World's Fair. Some in debt. Dug potatoes. Frank brot a big load of poatoes. I put them in baskets and he took them down in the cellar. Marshes burning.
20. Took some pears to Robert. The river very small. Mrs. Strang met us at the Depot and we went with her to see her fine new home.
23. A shower at night. Franks man has left him and I am very glad. Robert is going to work and live on Frank's farm
26. Frank and Uncle William went to attend the Fair in Chicago. Robert did chores at Franks farm. Hattie and Mary gathered peaches.
27. Went with Mrs. L to Town. She went to Uncle Williams on the MOtor Robert, Mr. Fletcher and Harris came.
28. A little ice, the first this FalWife and I called on Uncle Robert in forenoon. Dug potatoes in afternoon.
29. A fine quiet rain in the afternoon and we did not go down and get no papers.
October
1. Belle came in the beautiful morning. Mary took care of Harris so Mr. & Mrs Harris could go to Church Rolling day.
2. Grand morning-Robins feasting on the Mountain Ash Berries. Wife, Mary, Mrs. Flatcher and Harris went to Town. Went with Robert to Frank's farm at night. Uncle William sent a card from the World's Fair.
3. Refreshing morning shower, rain nearly all day, sistern full with refreshing showers, a day of rest.
4. Clear shining after rain. Wife and Belle went to Frank's farm and gathered pears. Read in the News that the Supreme Court had decid that Brother James should hold Brother Frank's property he left. I consulted of McMillan.
5. Grand Autumn morning. The trees gleaning through the mist of the morning, like great forest flowers. Frank back from Chicago Fair. Wife went to Frank's farm for peaches.
6. Mrs. Fletcher and Harris came-Wife and I went round by J. Hamiltons Robert brot 10 bushels of Oats.
7. Wife, Mary and I went to Town, the creamery and then to Roberts. Rev. Mr. Morey and Mrs. Kachler, his daughter, called.
8. Grand autumn day, sermon on giving. Belle came, went round with her. Mr. Fletcher and family came.
9. Wife started after breakfast to get Belle to gather apples at Frank's famr.
10. Golden October day. Dug all our potatoes, got no help. Mrs. Fletc and Mary went to Brother Roberts for dinner. Our friend Robert CAmpbell made us a pleasant visit and paid $18.00 interest.
11 Wife took Mary to Azros-I shoved stones of the road. Wife and I went to Town, Met Rev. Mr. Vining and Mrs. Strang.
12. Grand morning-Robert brot his black horse. Wife and I drove to Belleville-Forest trees beautiful, very warm between 86 & 90¢. Were kindly treated-came back by Mrs. Fletchers.
13. Cool and cloudy-Repaired fence-Wife, Mary and I met Mr. & Mrs. John Campbell and A. Campbell in Town. A sad accident on the railroad at Jackson, we heard 20 killed and 20 hurt.
14. Rain in the night-a wet stormy morning. Stormy and dreary all day-surly blasts drove the smoke down the Chimney-the house wet and comfortless.
15. Belle went to Church with us, cold-wore an overcoat.
16. Sunshine pleasant after the storm. Mrs. L, Mary. Mrs. Fletcher and Harris wnet to Town in the Surrey. Robert brot a load of Frank's broken rails.
18. Went with Robert to Frank's farm. Wife, Mary and I gathered a few bushels of Apples in our Orchard-Grank day. Helped Robert to get 45 busels of potatoes in the cellar.
18. Frank came and had breakfast about 6-Wife and Belle gathered apples in the Orchard. Ross getting th 1/2 from brother. Robert call on us
20. Frank had breakfast by lamplight-sawed some of the old rails till a shower came up. Wife went to see Willie with the Mumps and brot Mary back.
21. Grand golden day-Robert and Fox carried in the Kitchen stove-Wife, Mary, Belle and I went to Town.
22. A Sermon on Pauls power for Christianity. Robert and children came, then Azro and family like to border of the beautiful land.
24. Wife and I went in the Motor to our food friend R. Campbell in Ann Arbor enjoyed our visit. Paid 75$ for the Register. Mary and Willie came for us.
25. Robert dug out fence posts and burned some of the Marsh. Wife and wee Harris drove over to Frank's farm. Belle came.
26. Railroad disaster and wrecks on the lakes. Mary went over to help at Azros.
December
12. Ice and snow, not very cold, Mary, Mrs. Fletcher and Harris went to Franks to dinner. Willie came at night.
13. Frank sold Hay to Uhl. Mary convoyed Willie to School. Got Eagle sharp shod on the fore feet. Wife came home bringing word J. K. Campbell's boy was dead. John came from Lansing at night, by telegraph-Boy is about 4 years old.
15. Wet cold rain-Frank and his Mother went in the Covered Cutter to the funeral at Uncle Johns boy. Robert's Hattie not well. Mary went with Robert-Brother Robert called.
21. Mr. Calhoun came and paid interest in money and onions. Wife went to Azros and Mary came back-2 & 3 eggs a day.
22. Shortest day-Wife, Mary, Mrs. Fletcher and Harris went to Town. Wif went home with Belle-mild and muddy-Received a Christmas present from kind Sister Agnes.
24. Belle hitched her big horse on the Surry and 5 of us went to Churc Mr. Morey able to preach-Mr. Vraman helped him-Little Harris like to speak in meeting-Azros family came a noon and Roberts at night. Ground soft and a beautiful sunset.
25. Twenty-five years since Father died and spoke to me for the last time. Green fields, blue skies and balmy breezes. Three generatio 17 in all of us and wnet to Frank's farm and enjoyed a great joy-ful Christmas dinner. Anna and Mary stayed and we came home.
26. Cold breeze and the ground froze hard, Robert brot us 3 loads of wood and 20 bushels of Oats-Wife went to Azros for Anna and Mary.
28. Wife went with Anna and Mary up to Belles-Wife and I called on Brother Robert and family-Sent the picture of Straven Castle to Sister Agnes.
29. Sawed wood to keep us warm-got a few eggs-Wife went to Azros.
30. Hard rough roads-Robert paid the taxes $22.35. I paid $15. Robert the balance-Wife, Anna, Mary and I went to Town.
31. Last of 1893-Wife, Mary, Belle and I went to Church, A sermon on evil speaking-The last of 1893.

Continue reading in the William Lambie Diary, January-June 1894.

View a photo of the the Lambie family in our Gleanings image gallery.

Published In:
Ypsilanti Gleanings, Spring 2004,
Spring 2004

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Original Images:

Author: John Milford

I truly had a charmed life growing up in Ypsilanti. My father was a physician and Ypsilanti supported our family for over four decades. He was the only doctor to serve on the staffs of all three Beyer Hospitals. When I was five years old, my mother was elected to the Ypsilanti Board of Education where she served as the only woman. She won three consecutive four-year terms and served as the first woman president. Later, she served twelve years as an Eastern Michigan University regent.

When I had the flu, the owner of the Ypsilanti Dairy would bring ice cream to the house with our milk order. In addition to owning the Ypsilanti Dairy, Fred Peters served with my mother on the Ypsilanti Board of Education. Ice cream had a better effect on my well being than the penicillin shots my father gave me!

Riding our bicycles was our great entertainment. We also had a basketball hoop on our garage that was usually busy with neighborhood youngsters. People were always coming and going at our house. I remember all of it as such a happy, happy time.

Doug Tripp was my classmate and one of my best friends. On Doug's birthday his parents would give me a gift too. During the celebration of one of Doug's birthdays, his dad took the two of us to see a Red Wing hockey game. I remember it as such an exciting event. His mother loaded us up in their station wagon and the two of us would sit in the rear seat looking backwards. During one of these trips, she took us to a carnival. Another time, we went to Newport Beach at Portage Lake. Together, his parents took us to the Michigan State Fair in Detroit. I loved spending the night in the new addition at Doug's house. Doug, his bother, and his sisters were always gracious hosts.

Mr. Tripp was a very prominent Ypsilanti attorney. Fortunately, Doug and I never got in trouble so we did not need his professional services. Both of our fathers were Rotarians and each year they had a beautiful Christmas luncheon for the children of Rotarians. Doug and I were glad to miss two hours of school on that annual happy day. Each of us walked away with a present wrapped from Santa.

My neighborhood friends were Tom and John Dusbiber whose parents owned Shaefer's toy store. That was a perfect arrangement for our childhood. We always had toy cars to play with in little toy neighborhoods we built in the Dusbiber backyard. Mrs. Dusbiber's violets were dug up and became bushes in the toy neighborhoods. The Dusbiber apple tree was also great for climbing. When my bicycle broke down, Mr. Dusbiber gave me a Schwin demonstrator bike. Schwin bicycles were the best bicycles available and I felt like I rode the fanciest bike in town.

I later went on to Ypsilanti High School. Each year I was a class officer and part of student government. I was elected from Ypsilanti High School to the All City Student Council. My friend Doug Tripp was elected from Roosevelt High School and another good friend Tom Daniels was elected from Saint John's High School. Willow Run High School also had representation. I nominated Doug for president during our junior year and I was president during our senior year.

Later, my participation in student government at Eastern Michigan University increased my interest in politics. Eventually, I served as a Delegate to the National Republican Convention and served eight years on the State Committee. I was the first person elected to the State Committee from Ypsilanti in over thirty years. Ypsilanti candidates were usually overwhelmed by votes for candidates from Ann Arbor. I was fortunate to win with the support of Ann Arbor voters.

I am very proud of the way people got along in the city and in high school. I never noticed one iota of racial tension. Everyone got along and considered each other friends and equals. Everyone was considered on the same level and everybody was rated on his or her own merits. I cannot imagine being raised in a better community than Ypsilanti. Everyone was so kind and interested in the well being of one another. Ypsilanti was a close knit and beautiful place in which to live. Those were happy, happy days.