William
F. Hays' At
the End of the Emmitsburg Road
Part 5 of 7Picnics
Amusements in Emmitsburg were mostly homemade, with one of the
favorites being a picnic. It didn't take much planning to organize one.
The word got around that Virginia Eyster, for example, was If getting up
one for next Thursday, or some other day. Pretty much the same ones went
every time the favorite place being a swimming hole called "The
Willows" about a mile out of town. Picnics were, of course, only in
the summertime, and everyone was expected to bring food of some kind.
The person who was "getting up" the affair was supposed to
bring a tablecloth, to be spread out on the ground. At the time
designated, all would gather at the home of the arranger, and from there
we would walk to the picnic location. When we arrived it was games and
swimming and most importantly, the eats. Usually there was a chaperone.
If we were at The Willows', there was an opportunity to be daring,
for stretched across the narrow stream, about thirty feet, there was a
swinging foot bridge, Which always seemed to be on the point of
collapse. It consisted of two strands of heavy wire, fastened to trees
on each side of the water. From these wires were hung cables, made of
thin wire, which carried a wooden flooring, about twelve inches wide. As
you walked across, the whole thing would sway up and down and back and
forth, seeming about to come apart, It must have seemed risky to us,
because of our age, but the picture of it and the shaky feeling it gave,
remain with me very clearly. The big idea, naturally, was to do
something that seemingly was dangerous, so as to impress the girls. What
fun!
Schools
The Emmitsburg school system, all grades through High School,
consisted of one building. It was a two story structure, located on the
street leading from the Square to the railroad station as you entered
the building, on your left was a room for the lower grades, and on your
right a room for all other grades up to High School level. Directly
ahead, as you entered the front door, was a stairway leading to trouble,
otherwise called trigonometry. For up there was the High School, and as
I would hear the older ones use those big words, Geometry, Algebra and
Trigonometry, I would wonder how I could ever manage them. Somehow, of
course, I did.
For the whole school, it would be my guess that there were no more
than four teachers and a principal. One teacher to a room. With several
grades in each room, one class would move to the front for some subject,
then move back so that others might take their places. I remember a Miss
Bidwell, a French teacher. Others teachers were Miss Hoover, Miss Clara
Rowe, Miss Elizabeth Horner and Prof. Biddle. School began at nine and
went until twelve; then home for lunch and back at one, and then on
until four. There was a recess both morning and afternoon. By running
both ways and hurrying through lunch, these was time for games in the
schoolyard.
Its strange the things you remember, or rather, the things that made
an impression. There was a jeweler in town by the name of Hal Eyster,
who had a large wooden clock suspended above the sidewalk in front of
his store. It was just high enough not to strike a passerby. Well, we
kids would never fail to get a good running start, in the hope that with
a mighty leap, we might reach it. I don't think I ever did.
The school had no gymnasium, no laboratory and no athletic program of
any kind. The curriculum was pretty basic; Geography, Latin, Math,
History and Spelling. I am not sure about it, but my memory is that
every Friday afternoon there would be a program of sorts.
We had a teacher, Miss Mary Shuff, both dedicated and strict. She
taught English at Emmitsburg High, and later at the High School in
Frederick. Under her tutelage, I wrote themes for the first time. And
with her encouragement, I entered an essay contest, open to all schools
in Frederick County. We were to select what, in our opinion, were the
five best things in the County, and then write about the one we
considered to be the very finest. I included in my list the free wards
in the Frederick Hospital and wrote about them although I had never seen
the wards, nor the hospital for that matter. Some days passed with no
results announced. Then, to my great surprise, a neighbor (I think it
was Helen Shuff) called to say that she had just read my name in the
Frederick Post, as being a winner of a five dollar prize. Whether mine
was near the top or near the bottom was of no concern to me. In due
course the check came, and I felt I was now launched on a great literary
career.
But as limited as was the school, and unprogressive, for me it was a
wonderful place. I liked to read and write, and to dream about the
future and what I would do when I had grown up. Perhaps I might even go
to college. For her help and encouragement, I owe much to this very fine
teacher.
In my senior year we tried debating, with our only engagement being
with the High School at Brunswick, about thirty miles away. The Minister
of the local Reformed Church, Rev. Lewis Higbee, was our coach. The
subject was the League of Nations, whether good or bad. Two things I
remember. One is my opening statement, the other that we lost. And since
Brunswick was a much larger school, I must tell that ours was very
small. My graduating class consisted of myself and four girls, Edna
Miller, Helen Ohler, Annie Houck and Larue Adelsberger.
We did have a baseball team, but just barely. We had only eight
able-bodied and able-minded players. Our ninth was able-bodied, period.
Frank was assigned to right field, where he would have little to do, but
as for hitting, that was another story. If Frank did get on base, it was
either that he was hit by a pitched ball, or that he got a "base on
balls." And this is where the trouble came, in the event Frank was
advanced around third base and was about to score a run. He couldn't see
the need of first touching Home Base and then going to our bench. He
simply took the shortest route to the bench and sat down, no matter if
we lost the run.
I was the pitcher on this fabulous team, and I must say that my e.r.a.
was not very low. However, I did manage to get a few strikeouts per
game, which you might think would have helped our cause. But there was a
problem. Our catcher could stop the ball, if the batter struck out, but
he never seemed able to hold that third strike. So down to first would
go the batter, and often made it to second base, when out catcher threw
the ball into right field.
I am ready to report that our record was not so good, but not before
telling about our uniforms, and how Charles (Bush) Bushman split his
trousers. The High School had no athletic budget, so if we were to have
uniforms, it behooved us to get busy . So, the mother of one of our
players made a beautiful chocolate cake for which we sold chances,
thereby raising the $7.50 needed for nine uniforms which we had ordered
from some mail order store. The uniforms came and looked great. Our
shortstop Bush, tall and lanky, looked especially impressive when we
played our first game. Well, Bush's uniform became dirty, so his mother
put it in the family "ash, with disastrous results. It shrank. And
when Bush reported for our next game, he was a strange sight. His shirt
was far too small and the pants were terribly tight. Everyone could see
the problem. But Bush, undaunted, stood his ground. If only he could
have stood for the entire game. But alas! When Bush bent over to stop a
ground ball, the result was inevitable. He split his pants, right there
in public view. Did he stop for repairs? Not on your life. He played the
whole game, the split notwithstanding. Who won the chocolate cake? Dr.
Brawner, down on East Main St.
Mother the Fun Maker
Elsewhere I have described Papa. Now let me talk about Mama. 'Her's
was a full life. She kept a diary in which there is a note about her
childhood. It describes her perfectly. She had gone off to a boarding
school, but could not stay. This is what she wrote: "I would have
graduated if Mother had not become ill. I had to stay home so much, but
Rev. (the name is not distinguishable) helped me in the evening, and I
took my music lesson from Mrs. Wolferburger from Chambersburg and Mother
let me practice and my music was so nice and my dress was made by a lady
and it was snow white with white and pink silk stockings and slippers
and pink sash and I was so proud."
One of her favorite bits of advice was: "If you listen to me,
you will wear diamonds." Mother loved to have parties and to have
things "nice" as she put it. And how she worked! She was a
superb cook. Every Saturday morning she baked five or more loaves of
bread, several pies and dozens of rolls. It seemed as if she was always
making sugar cakes, really cookies. When we were small, she did the
milking and of course she churned the butter. In the summer she would
preserve bushels of peaches which Papa had bought from some farmer who
had come to town with an open wagon, filled from his orchard. She
canned, or put in jars, quantities of cherries from Thornbrook cherry
trees. We grew our own sweet corn, much of which was dried for use in
the winter. Papa made driers at the shop, consisting of a pan, about two
feet square, with a funnel in one corner, so that the pan (which was
covered) might be filled with water. The pan would be put on the stove,
with corn which had been cut from the cob, spread out on top. There it
would stay until thoroughly dry, after which it would be put into cloth
bags and stored for later use. Mother did the family wash, scrubbing
over a washboard. She made most of our clothes, as her diary attests. We
had a big vegetable garden, and since Papa was busy at the shop, Mother
saw to it that the garden was weeded. She had a flock of chickens which
required attention.
In addition to all this, she played the church organ for over twenty
years, with choir practice taking up one night a week. Mother assigned
various jobs to each of us, which didn't hurt too badly, for we knew
that when the weeds had been pulled, or whatever done that she had
assigned, there would be a tasty reward.
Mother took care of our social life, seeing to it that we were
supplied with the small amount of cash we needed. She sold cream,
butter, eggs and chickens, but seldom used the proceeds for herself.
A rather gifted pianist, she loved to play duets with a neighbor.
Luella Annan and, as already related, with our other neighbor, Ruth
Shuff. I still can see those ETUDE books on the piano.
There were many parties at Thornbrook, Mother's old home. She would
play the piano and Grandfather Fox would play his fiddle for the waltzes
and the square dances. If Mother saw a man standing alone - perhaps shy
- that was too much for her. So up she would jump from the piano, grab
the guy and away she went. Soon he had lost his shyness and she was back
at the piano. Her common expression was "Come on, kick up your
heels." Everybody called her Miss Minnie" and never Mrs. Hays.
She had a big welcome for all. If I happened to take a college friend
along home for a visit, you would think he was one of her own. On
entering the front door, he soon found himself in her arms, getting a
big squeeze, which he never forgot. If we were going to some social
gathering, at a church member's home, she was sure to tell us: "Now
do something funny, make them laugh." Speaking of laughs, her's was
strong, hearty and infectious.
There was a musician, Larry Diehlman, who taught music at Mt. St.
Mary's College, as his father had done before him. Larry lived near
Thornbrook, Mother's old home, in a small dwelling, the front room of
which served as what today would be called a convenience store, though
it would be stretching things a lot to call it a store. Rather, it was a
place for Larry to practice his violin or his flute. His demeanor was
somewhat frightening, as a result of which, he had difficulty finding an
accompanist, so now enters the young Fox girl, Minnie by name, From her
home it was only a short walk to his store, so Larry asked her to play
for him. Mother told us some strange stories. For one thing, Larry would
crack her knuckles when she made any slight mistake. But the weirdest
had to do with his wife's funeral. When the funeral cortege was passing
the store, Larry sat on a barrel, playing his flute. I found this hard
to believe, but Mother said it was true. For years, on Christmas Eve, it
was Larry's practice to go to his father's grave at a mountain cemetery
nearby, and at midnight play Adeste Fideles on his flute. This became a
well known event and, as years passed, people from miles around came to
hear him pay this unusual tribute to his father.
Finally, as to Mother, she loved to have guests, to entertain, to
play, to make her home attractive and to help her children get ahead.
There were two piano pieces we never tired of hearing, Chariot Race and
Diehlman's Waltz.
Mother enjoyed life to the full. During her last illness, while at
Gettysburg Hospital and confined to bed, she would play on an imaginary
keyboard and, upon one occasion, she went by wheelchair to a room with a
piano, there to play as best she could. To borrow a phrase from the
theater: "Miss Minnie" was a real trouper
Thornbrook
I have spoken already of Grandfather Fox' home, about two miles out
of town, called Thornbrook. For us, that is, my sister Margaret, my
brothers and myself, a visit there was pure delight. To begin with,
Granddaddy Fox loved fun, as did Mother. He played a fiddle, could dance
a jig and usually had something with which to amuse youngsters. I
remember that he had a heavy watch chain across his vest, with a whistle
attached to the chain. To be allowed to blow it was considered a great
privilege.
Thornbrook was quite a place. It really was a big old-fashioned
boarding house. There were lots of rooms, beautiful ones, lovely
fireplaces framed with black marble and a high-ceilinged room called the
Ballroom. There seemed to be somewhat of a mystery about it. In the
winter, dances and parties were held there.
Outside on the big lawn was an octagonal shaped pavilion for summer
parties, with Japanese lantern hanging from the trees, lending a lovely
touch of romance. A high windmill stood just off the dining room porch,
to provide cold water from the well. There was a big barn, a carriage
shed, an orchard, a wood shed, an ice house and a corn crib. What I
remember best were two large cherry trees which produced bushels of
delicious fruit every year. Cherries meant cherry dollies, a long roll
filled with cherries, then baked in the oven of our kitchen stove. When
mother served these, with lots of cream and sugar, her six children were
in 'Seventh Heaven’
As children, we loved to go to Thornbrook. Mother had a brother,
Harry Fox, who was living there while we were growing up. He, as did my
brother Sam, loved horses, and was very proud to show us his special
beauties. In the hottest weather, the kitchen at Thornbrook was cool, it
being in the basement. Food was sent to the upstairs dining room on a
dumbwaiter, which of course fascinated us. It was in this basement that
Grandfather made his wonderful ice cream. At the time of this writing,
two cousins, Margaret and Leanna Franklin, live in this lovely old home,
so dear to the whole Hays family.
Cousin Eddie
One person who used to visit at Thornbrook was Cousin Edith Plank,
from somewhere near Fairfield, Penna. Now her visits would not find
their way into this story, were it not for the fact that she had a
brother, one Eddie Plank. So far as I know, Eddie never visited
Grandfather Fox, either alone or with his sister, and if he had, he
would not have been looked upon with much approval. Eddie had not
amounted to much. You see, he was a professional ball player, and that
was enough. Imagine, an able bodied man, playing a game for money. We
didn't know at the time, that Cousin Edith's brother Eddie was off
playing baseball at Gettysburg College, and later at Philadelphia with
Connie Mack's famous Athletics.
At this point I should add that so far as I know, Edith Plank was
just a friend, but, as was the custom, she was called "Cousin"
to show that she was more than a casual acquaintance. Years passed and I
had three sons who seemed to enjoy my stories and yarns about
Emmitsburg. But one son in particular, David, when quite young, listened
with great eagerness to my story of his Cousin Eddie. Dave loved the
game, went to as many games at Fenway Park as possible, collected
baseball cards, and played pick-up games, in Vermont in the summer, with
his cousin Jim Pratt, I think they both had their doubts.
So what about this famous relative, Eddie Plank? I explained that I
actually 'Knew a Cousin Edith, and if she was thus related, then her
brother must also be one of the family. To prove my case, I had a
picture of Cousin Edith, sitting on the limb of a big cherry trade, out
at Grandfather Fox's farm.
Well, I haven't given up, not yet. Here is "Cousin Eddie"
in the baseball Hall of Fame, and celebrated as one of the few major
league pitchers to have won three hundred or more games. I think I have
satisfied the burden of proof.
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