Search This Blog

Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Holidays!

May all Woodsdale Kids have a Merry Holiday Season and many blessings in the New Year. This blogsite has put me back inn touch with some pretty amazing people so all the time and effort has been worthwhile.  We were so lucky to grow up where and when we did because our children and grandchildren will never know what it was like to feel so safe and secure and loved as we did. Look for the Spring issue of Goldenseal Magazine for an article about Woodsdale Kids and I hope to see more of you at this year's picnic.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Woodsdale Girls Take the Train

Today I was doing some research on the old B & O station which is now Northern Community College. It reminded me of a trip my Girl Scout troop took on the train to Pittsburgh about 1959 or 1960. The trains stopped running in 1960, so it must have been just before that. What a thrill it was for all of us. Our troop leader, Mrs. Greeneltch was so great in recognizing that some of us had never been on a train and this was historical...taking one of the last passenger trips out of Wheeling. I was enthralled. I remember especially going through the station at Elm Grove (now a Garden Shop).
   Since that day, I have had a love affair with trains and have taken the Pacific line up and down the West Coast several times and even one across from Seattle to Chicago and then on to Pittsburgh. Once I took the train from Pittsburgh to New York on crutches...the swaying of the train was a challenge, but worse yet was that I was in a full cast from hip to ankle so couldn't close the bathroom door as my leg stuck out the door...luckily, a friend traveling with me would stand in front of me when nature called. The people one meets on trains can only be described as "characters" and the seats should be described as "torturous"....but the dining cars, bar cars, and viewing cars with glass ceilings are wonderful.


Saturday, November 24, 2012

Who Are These People?

Often when I am giving the Woodsdale Kids talk to different organizations, people give me photos of themselves....often without labels. So here are three I can't identify. Can you help?

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

A Halloween Short Story


One fateful Halloween night when I was around eight or nine, I remember having a great idea to have some “extra” fun after I finished trick-or-treating.
Without telling anyone, I climbed up one of the trees in front of our house armed with a couple of water balloons.  Surely,  someone worthy of a dousing would wander by. Maybe Sammy Heubacher, the neighborhood bully. Nah...Bad idea! He would pound me. Get the little kids! Yeah, that works. Nah, that won't work either. Their parents will be with them.

Well, the next thing I remember… there were flashing red lights and the sounds of a police radio underneath me . I could see and hear my Mother and Father talking with two policemen on our front porch. Strange, I thought, my Mother was describing my costume.

So, I climbed down to see what all the commotion was about. "Well. I'll be a sonofabitch! You get your butt up to your room this minute, Mister” bellowed my Dad as he gave me a swat. “I’ll deal with you shortly!” I scooted into the house while my parents apologized profusely.
As I went up the stairs, the grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime. “GEEZ LOUISE!!” It was Midnight.

It finally donned on me. I had fallen asleep up in that tree. And, the worst part about it was that I still had the water balloons in my pockets.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

A WOODSDALE HALLOWEEN

A WOODSDALE HALLOWEEN

  Tonight is Halloween and things seem to have changed a lot since my days trick or treating. First of all, the City of Wheeling determines what times one can ring doorbells, not parents....is this BIG GOVERNMENT? Second costumes are not usually homemade, but are bought at a store and adults spend more on costumes than all the costs of kids outfits combined! Third, well, somehow I just don't remember a single Halloween when there was snow and rarely rain!..now it is common.

A Woodsdale friend posted on Facebook that she gave away 400 pieces of candy in minutes and was inundated by carloads of kids being dropped off in the neighborhood.  I remember that even in the 50's and 60's we had kids from other places going door to door with us, but they were few and far between and usually hit the neighborhood at dinnertime (between 5 and 6) which was a big no no in my family.

The local news tonite on tv featured Walnut Avenue as one of the most elaborately decorated, but I have seen houses in Woodsdale decorated on all three floors many times. There have been burglaries on Hamilton Avenue lately and the neighborhood watch invited the police to come instruct them on how to make their neighborhood safer. Times have changed....does anyone remember a locked door or a burglary in Woodsdale in their youth?

One of my favorite Halloween memories is of my father setting up a microphone on the porch and when the kids would come up, he would announce in a very scary voice "I'll send the butler out promptly". My brother Michael would then appear as the butler and hand out the candy. I also remember sneaking the furniture off Miss Meek's porch as a prank and tping (toilet papering)  a few trees now and then. One year I got stopped by the cops, hid my roll of toilet paper under my coat and when they asked what we were up to, somehow, it got loose and rolled away down the street with the tail caught up in my waistline. They just laughed and left, thank goodness. I can't remember what we used to collect our loot in, but I think it was pillowcases and when we got home we (all Quinn kids old enough to participate) would dump them out and sort or trade pieces...though we were only allowed to eat a few and the rest went into the "vault"...my Dad's stash for the winter that he would open while telling stories around the fireplace in the basement. That candy would last a long, long time...and let me tell you, stale candycorn can taste pretty bad.

What memories do you have of the Great Pumpkin night?

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Strolling Through Time

       
                                            Left to right: Anne Brown, Caroline Coleman and Marsha Montgomery at the Woodsdale Kids picnic.

Just spent a great day with Caroline who now lives in Philippi. Though it was rainy and cold we had a great time (as usual) talking about growing up in Woodsdale. We never ran out of things to talk about, enjoyed some nice meals, and had a great time strolling through time. I only wish I could do the same with so many other childhood friends.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Writing for the blog



I was told at the picnic that many of you readers don't contribute to the site because you find the writing so intimidatingly good...that you feel you are unable to write anything as good. I say "Hooey!" Anybody can put a few words together if it gives others moments of pleasure. It doesn't have to be grammatically correct, spelled right or whatever....as Nike says...'Just do it!'

All of you seem to think you don't have any memories worth writing about....not true, some little incident that you share may bring a spark of memory to others. That is what the blog is all about sharing memories and bringing back the good times we all had. Sure there was sadness, and hard times, and bad memories...but let's celebrate the good times by putting something on this blog that will make someone else smile with delight remembering when they too did or said or saw the same thing.

In these troubled times when we are all a lot older, all have health problems, or money worries or both, isn't it absolutely essential that now and then we make each other smile? Come on folks, you can do it...write something!

Happiness

Happiness, that's the word that comes to mind when thinking about being a Woodsdale Kid in the 1950's. There were so many friends, so much to do: flip baseball cards, read and trade comic books, play Indian ball, shoot baskets in by backyard or with a friend across the street, read books on the front porch swing, get excited as the days for the bookmobile's arrival approached, see Vincent Purpura's vegetable truck stop in front of our house.

Living at 30 Poplar Avenue from the 1950's to the summer of 1962 was one of the happiest times of my life. I'm still in touch with the now 96 yr old woman who lived with her husband and daughter in the other half of our duplex. Playing with the Quinn Kids two doors down. These and so many other memories are still fresh in my mind. I vividly recall crying when I heard we were moving to Los Angeles the summer before my senior year at Triadelphia. We might as well be moving to the moon. California seemed so far away.

For me, Woodsdale was the perfect place to grow up. I have not been back in almost 50 years and circumstances now preclude my doing so, but that's okay. I prefer to remember Woodsdale the way it was: Woodsdale School with its solid stone able to absorb all the laughter, tears, and learning that occurred within its structure. The building is gone, the memories aren't. Perhaps the passage of time has made my time in Woodsdale more idyllic than I remember. I hope not!

Stuart Rubinstein, Los Angeles, California

Wednesday, September 5, 2012




Just a Couple More New Zealand Stories

This photo was taken in Pago Pago where my seatmate and I had an hour layover on our flight to New Zealand. I thought it was humid in West Virginia, but in Samoa it was like someone throwing a wet blanket over you as you emerged from the plane. My seatmate, Sara, was a Kiwi
(not the fruit, the people prefer this designation to New Zealander) and had just run a marathon in London. We decided to have a look around the island and since the pilot had announced we had a whole hour, we headed up a mountain.

While enjoying the view, I looked down to see our plane slowly taxing away without us. Sara, a great runner, took off down the mountain, out onto the runway, stopped the plane and we got on with much embarassment, but to a standing ovation for Sara. I later stayed with her family on their deer farm in Napier, New Zealand....had a great time and yes they do actually farm deer.

While hitchhiking around the country having a  "look/see" as they say down under, I found the slang pretty strange. A nice man picked me up and gave me a ride to the next town. He started his conversation with, "Do you like gridiron?" I knew he meant American Football ( in NZ football is soccer) and though I am definitely NOT a sports fan, I thought I should be agreeable so said yes.
"What team do you support?", he asked. "I root for the Pittsburgh Steelers", I told him. The look of shock on his face was followed by the question, "The WHOLE TEAM??!!". Yes, I explained, "you can't root for just one of them!" Well, he looked at me very strangely and was very quiet the rest of our journey. As soon as possible, I went in a tea room (snack shop/bakery) and repeated the conversation to a friendly woman behind the counter. She laughed til tears rolled down her cheeks and then explained that in New Zealand "to root for" means to have sex with! From then on, I was often asked if I was that Yank who roots for the Steelers. NZ is a very small country with 3 million and 70 million sheep so word spreads quickly...but I denied that I was that very wild Yankee gal.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Teaching Hillbilly

Because of a request for more New Zealand stories, I've decided to include one of my favorites:.

While teaching high school science there, I was constantly teased by my students about my "accent"which to their ears sounded very strange. So, when I changed schools and began teaching on the South Island, I decided to try something new. The first day of school, the principal had all the new teachers up on the stage and introduced me by saying, "This is Ms. Quinn, and you will notice that she speaks quite differently than we do". But I didn't get to say a word.

When the students entered my classroom for first period, I greeted them with, "Hi, y'all we shurr are gonna have a great year!". The looks on their faces was shock. So I contined my ruse, by saying, "Do y'all think I talk funny?" and they all nodded their heads. "Well, I speak Hillbilly and if you would like I kin teach you to talk like me", I continued. They all agreed that they would like to learn this strange language so I began.

"Now youns over cher you say 'I shurr aim tarred and them over there say 'Well, poosh that cooshin over here and set a spell". I had to write it phonetically on the blackboard and they practiced til they had it...then I explained what it meant (translation....I sure am tired and Push that cushion over here and sit for awhile). The kids loved it. I resumed speaking normally and they said, "Ms Quinn, you really don't talk like that!" and I agreed that I had no accent.

They were so enthralled with"Hillbilly" that I agreed that if they were very good, I would teach them some more. At lunch that day I got back to the staff room and the principle came up to me and said, "I shurr aim tarred!" and laughed hilariously.

At our first parent teacher night several months later, the principal came up to me and said, "Ms Quinn, all the other teachers are gone and you have a line of parents waiting to see you!" I asked him to bring them all in at once and knew what they wanted. Sure enough, one parent said, "We are here to learn some Hillbilly.....and we want something the kids don't yet know" So, after making appointments to see them all later in the week, I said "In West Virginia, we have these little shacks up on top of the mountains where rangers watch for forest fires....they are called "far tars" (fire towers). They loved it!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Sudden Death

My sister Louise Quinn Symons died suddenly the day after the Woodsdale Kids' picnic from sudden Death Syndrome which also took my mother (at age 58) and my brother Colin (at age 47). If the person is conscious when this this heart electrical failure occurs they can be saved with CPR and defibrillation if it is applied very quickly. So PLEASE folks, for your family and friends, learn CPR and invest in a debrillator if your family has a history of this illness.
  Louise was only 67 and just thriving in her love for her only grandchild Ellie. She loved to read, quilt, and did beautiful needlework. Her health was good and she had no physical limitations when it came to traveling the world or enjoying life.
   Let's rejoice in the gift of each day and find Life astounding!
Kathleen Quinn

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The 4th Annual Woodsdale Kids' Picnic was a huge success with over 80 people attending. Shown here are Jim Seibert and Judy Meier (Grace) who had not seen each other in more than 40 years and had dated in high school.

The picnic brought together lots of people who I had not seen since high school including Peggy Thonen who I learned lives right here in Wheeling and Jim Brinkman, who has traveled the world while in the service. Also, it was GREAT to see Marsha Montgomery and Greg Hess and all of the Gaydoshes. Lots of my old favorite people came long distances to see each other and tell tales of what life has been like post-Woodsdale. A few new faces that I had not met before like Sam Stone were also welcomed. Bill Hogan, our oldest Woodsdale Kid put in an appearance...he is my go-to authority on all things Woodsdale.

The food was out of this world with Shirley Criswell bringing her popular fruit salad and the other offerings were just as tasty. The BBQ saw lots of veggie burgers, and a few steaks and burgers as well. A big THANKS to Dan Criswell for taking photos as I was too pre-occupied.

All and all, if you missed this one, you need to come next year to see who appears. We have booked the shelter for Aug 10, 2013 and I think all those who make it will enjoy themselves at least as much as those who came this year. I'm hoping Howdy Meagle and Barbara Bailey will be among next year's crowd.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Greetings from Jeff Curry!

I just stumbled across the Woodsdale Kids blog. Unbelieveable. Who dreamed this one up? I haven’t seen all those names in decades. I got lost for a couple hours reading just half of those stories. Just amazing. I lived on the 100 block of Maple Ave back then… closer up your way, around Tommy Emch and Andy Bates and Richard Hamm and Augie Bankie and Debbie Frizell. Barbara Taylor’s house was pin high with us, straight out our back door in fact. I’m the same age as Kim and Charlie and Colin and Eddie P. My dad & Kim’s dad made up the whole radiology dept at OVGH. You might remember my older brother Larry. Anyway as a 6 or 7 year old I couldn’t venture down as far as that busy corner where the Liebolds and Butlers and Swarts and Quinns lived which seemed like a whole ‘nother world back then. I only went that far when I walked to Woodsdale School where I would meet up with Kim and we would head down the alley behind his house, not just because it was shorter but because we were petrified by a Great Dane named Duke, perched up on one of those real high front porches a couple doors past Johnny Rogers’ house, kind of like those kids who were all afraid of the giant dog in that Sandlot movie. Then a couple years after the Swarts moved over to Orchard Rd we moved over that way too. I kind of have to chime in with whoever said that that’s not really Woodsdale over there because it just didn’t seem quite the same to me either. Crossing Bethany Pike was sort of like crossing a river or something. Anyway I haven’t been in Woodsdale for a real long time. But you never know, I might just have to come see the place again someday. Oglebay Park alone is a good enough excuse.
Take care,
Jeff Curry
102 Maple Avenue
Phone #: Woodsdale304

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Hot Summer Nights

This hot weather reminds me of the days of sitting on the front porch during steamy thunderstorms. Our front porch was a wraparound version with a swing. When a storm was coming you could smell the ozone in the air and almost taste the rain. I would sit on the swing reading books from the bookmobile...and I still remember what authors I liked and read.....George Orwell, Jack Keroac, I even read War and Peace on that swing. When the rain would come pelting down with a vengence, it was lovely to be outside watching the gutters become rivers and enjoying the free "high' that ozone gives human beings.
    Sometimes if it was really hot outside we would sleep on the porch. The only annoyance were mosquitos and the street lights. As a teen there were always gatherings on the front porch. Everyone adored my sweet mother and were polite and kind to her.
   As I got a little older, summer nights were for stealing watermelons or corn, going out to the "country" to build a fire and roast the ears for good eating...then of course drinking lots of beers. To this day, I don't drink beer because I don't like the taste of it now that I am old enough to buy it. Once in awhile I would go watch the drag races on country road with straight-aways.
   Summer.....the sound of crickets, the neighbors talking on their porches....just a good old Woodsdale tradition. Were we not the luckiest kids in the world?

Thursday, June 7, 2012

God Save the Goat

God Save the Goat

Although this story doesn't exactly relate to Woodsdale, I thought I would include it in celebration of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.

While living in New Zealand I acquired a six week old Belgium shepherd and a wild, orphaned  angora goat kid. This incredible dog was named Marley (after Bob Marley) and the goat was Gulliver, because he tended to travel from my yard. They were best mates and always teaching each other something new. The goat tried to bark, the dog climbed up on things. I taught them both to heel and so could walk with them to town where they would patiently wait outside the butcher shop or bakery. If Gully started to wander the dog would grab his leash and hold him. Their standard greeting was butting heads!

Well, eventually Gully ate my British husband's strawberries from the garden once too often and he said, "Either the goat goes or I do"...damn! I made the wrong choice and Gully soon found a home at a touristy missionary house from the 1800's. It was just down the road from me so we could visit often and they were thrilled to get a tourist attraction (the missionaries kept goats).

One day the Queen and Phillip were scheduled to come to town. All the school children were equipped with Union Jacks and seated along the inlet where the Queen would appear. Her tender would come from the yacht and land at the Missionary house. I tiny boat found it's way up the river and all the kids cheered and waved their flags until their teacher said, "That's just the luggage boat, kids". They soon lost interest and scattered to play.

I had called ahead and ask that Gully be staked near the road so he could see the Queen. Since  I was known as "that crazy Yankee woman", they were not surprised and moved the goat near the road where the queen would pass. I walked down the road with Marley at my heel, but as soon as he saw Gulliver he ran up to him and began butting heads. Everyone watched and laughed. By this time the royal couple had arrived and some how Phillip found out that I owned the goat. While the queen shook my hand, he called me aside to talk.

I was impressed that he knew we had just had a major flood in the inlet and cars were washed miles away. A woman I knew drowned in the flood. Anyway, Phillip was concerned that the dog was going to hurt the goat. I explained that they were old friends and this was their greeting ritual, he laughed til his eyes teared up! Meanwhile, the queen (in pink hat and gloves) waved and greeted the crowd.

I decided to go home and as the entourage passed my house, I noticed the queen was wearing white gloves and was not looking out the window of the Rolls as the hand waved in that screwing in the lightbulb motion....so I figure she has a machine in the car attached to the door and it does the waving for her!

I'll save my tales of Charles, Diane and Marley for another occasion. But isn't it amazing  that a Woodsdale Kid had an adventure with royalty???

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Radio Shows

One of my favorite memories as a Woodsdale Kid was participating in the Oglebay Institute radio playhouse shows. My sisters also took part. We were assigned a role and on Saturday mornings would go downtown to the studio to become part of a play. Sometimes I got to be the soundeffects person and would slam doors or recreate hoofbeats with glee. I don't know whether anyone listened to these shows, but the experience of being part of it was delightful.
My mother had her own show on WMOD Moundsville at one time. I think it was called the Blue Fairy hour or something like that. She would read stories for kids and sometimes we got to do the readings. We had an extensive set of books around the house to chose stories from. My dad worked at the station as a salesman and he would bring home an old reel to reel tape recorder which he set on the dining room table. We would gather around the microphone and talk, read poems or stories. How I wish I had those tapes now.
Speaking of WMOD they played my favorite children's radio show Andy's Gang which featured Froggy the Gremlin who would "pluck his magic twanger" now and then. The show was sponsored by Buster Brown shoes and they came to the Strand theater in Moundsville one Saturday. There was some sort of contest where you had to collect bottle caps or something and the prize was huge (though I can not now remember what it was). My brothers and sisters and I turned up at the theater with our bottlecaps only to learn we could not enter the contest because my father worked for the station.
Another children's show I liked was Big John and Sparky. Anyone else remember any of these? Or even have radio memories of their own?

Friday, April 13, 2012

Signs of Spring



While walking to Woodsdale school each spring morning, I would look for the crocuses in one particular yard. If they were blooming, even in the snow, I knew spring was on its way. They were always the first flower to bloom. As things warmed up, I'd head out to Stratford hill to cull the crop of wildflowers. Do kids today even notice such things? Somehow, I doubt it.

Mr. Hile's Big Red Dog

As a Woodsdale student from grades 1-4, I was always intimidated by Mr. Hile. he was so tall and looked so much like Abe Lincoln! Since I lived on the Linsly campus where my father taught & coached, I walked home each day down Leatherwood Lane and soon learned that Mr. Hile owned the most beautiful dog I had ever seen! One Saturday I noticed him in his front yard throwing a ball to this large Irish Setter. Summoning all the nerve I could at the age of 6, I stopped to say hello and to pet his dog. From that day on, I was no longer afraid of Mr. Hile and, of course, fell in love with his dog. Each day, "Red" (the name I gave him) would meet me in front of the Hile house and escort me part of the way down Leatherwood lane to my house. My big sister was always there to watch after me on our walks to and from school but "Red" was my real protector.
Although I loved my years at Linsly, there were many days during the fifth grade that I looked up the street wondering if Red was missing me. We always made sure to check on each other most weekends.
My first dog as an adult?..........An Irish Setter!
Dave Keith

Friday, March 23, 2012

Old Friends Reappear



Thanks to this blogsite, I am now in touch with two of my old neighbors, Barbara and Stuart Rubenstein. Both live in California and like to read my posts. Stuart has called me several times and would like to get in touch with an old friend Robert Subitt...if any of you know where he is, please let me know. Seems Stu has become quite an expert on folkmusic so we had a lot to talk about. I actually ran into him once at the Troubador in Los Angeles. They left Woodsdale in 1962. Great to hear from old friends. I took the attached picture to send to Stuart..he was very fond of the old maples that lined both sides of Poplar until a tornado blew most of them down.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Why I Quit School in Fifth Grade

There were two fifth grade teachers at Woodsdale School: Miss Fritz the "nice teacher" who gave kids rides in her Cadillac and had parties in her room all the time. And then, there was Mrs. Woods, the "mean" teacher who looked like a snowy egret and ate children for breakfast. Everyone in my family older than I am had Miss Fritz and according to them she was the angel of teacherdom.
The first day of school, we stood outside on the steps waiting for our room assignments from Mr. Hile. When he said I was assigned to Mrs. Wood's class, I made up my mind to quit school rather than be tortured. IT JUST WASN'T FAIR!!! So I turned around and walked home. Where my dear, patient mother asked why I was there. "I quit school", I told her. I explained the inequity of my getting Mrs. Woods and her only reply was "Your father will be home tonite and you can tell him about it".
When Dad came home and I explained my plight, he showed little sympathy and told me we would talk further in the the morning. I went off to bed thinking he would make it all right. The next morning he said, "I've decided you can quit school, but you have to go tell Mr. Hile why".
The prospect of facing Mr. Hile, the principal was daunting. He looked like Abe Lincoln and though nice, was a bit scary. I sat in a leather wing-back chair in his office and told him that I just could NOT have "the mean teacher". After a long pause, he said, "Well, your father says it is alright if you quit school, but I think you owe it to Mrs. Woods to tell her why you are leaving".
The bottom fell out of my world! My heart was racing and so loud I could hear it screaming in my chest. Noooooooooooo! This was a fate worse than death, but I was determined. I tiptoed down the stairs to the first floor. All the doors were shut as classes were in session. Meekly, I knocked on Mrs. Woods door. After a few minutes she opened it and stuck her beak out. I asked if I could talk to her privately. She set the class to work and came out in the hallway. I explained that I was quitting school. She asked why I didn't want to be in her class. I replied, "Because you are "the MEAN teacher". She asked how I would know that since I had never been in her class. I was perplexed but told her EVERYONE knows. Eventually, she suggested that I should give her class a try before quitting so that I would have a sound basis for my decision.
That sounded fair to me, but she stipulated that at the end of the week, after school on Friday, we would talk about how the week went. I agreed. Well, that first week, I was a hero to all my classmates for standing up to her, but I soon began to see just how great she was at teaching. By Friday, I knew I wanted to stay, but I'd be damned if I was going to admit that I was wrong.
Friday came and during our interview I asked her if I could have another week as I still wasn't sure. This went on every week for the whole school year!
On my birthday, I got the shock of my life when she let my mother bring cupcakes and ice cream into the classroom. I learned so much that year, especially in geography and history, but was still not going to admit she was the best teacher I ever had. Meanwhile, the kids in Ms. Fritz' class got rides in her Cadillac, but I felt I had something better....a love of learning and a good teacher.
Many years later, I had to give a speech to 800 people at my graduation for Teachers' College. I recounted this story. But, that is not the end of the story....I found out that my father had called Mr. Hile and Mrs. Woods and explained that his daughter was stubborn, but not stupid and would give a teacher a chance to prove herself. Thanks to the MEAN TEACHER I learned a valuable life lesson which I used with my high school classes for many years.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

On the Ball

Woodsdale school had an amazing lady named Eleanor Ball who taught English to recalcitrant junior high students for many, many years. She taught my mother, all my aunts and uncles, and my four older brothers and sisters before I had the "privilege" of being her student.
Basically she was mad as a hatter and terrified her students. She was tall, thin, white haired and was a bit bird-like in appearance. Her specialty was embarassing students who either couldn't or wouldn't learn what she had to offer.
To illustrate what a direct object was, she would throw an eraser at you! She talked to the window blinds and any unfortunate insects that happened into her classroom. We were required to memorize every prepostion in the English language and to this day, I'd say most of her students can still recite them. Diagramming sentences on the blackboard was particularly stressful, but by golly, it helped me understand the parts of speech.
One gimmick that she used as an "incentive' was her sticker clubs. For every success in grammar she would reward with a sticker to be placed on your special page which was usually prominently displayed in her classroom. I always found it embarassing.
Having said all that, I have to admit that to this day I thank her for her lessons. I cringe at mis-use of grammar and always think of her when I see it.
Now, the end of the story: When she was retiring, Miss Ball asked a friend of mine (who was a new teacher at the school and had been her pupil) to help her clean out her desk. In the drawer was a bottle of "cough syrup" which the wiley old lady admitted was a bit of vodka that would "help her through the bad days". Thank goodness for the Miss Balls of this world.

Woodsdale Kids' article in Magazine

Good News! An article with stories from this blogsite will be featured in Goldenseal Magazine in their Summer 2013 issue. If you are not familiar with this magazine, it is a publication of West Virginia Culture and History Department and has been around a LONG time. It features only stories about West Virginia and it's people. Check it out at the library, I don't think it is online. I also have another article in their next issue about Billy Sunday's 1910 visit to Wheeling. The people of Wheeling built a "tabernacle" for him that seated 8,000 and they built it in FOUR days.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Green Thing

Author Unknown:

Checking out at the supermarket, the young cashier suggested to the older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. The woman apologized and explained, "We didn't have this green thing back in my earlier days." The clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations." She was right -- our generation didn't have the green thing in its day.

Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles, and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocers and didn't climb into a 200-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 2000 watts -- wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right. We didn't have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV or radio in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of Rhode Island. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gas just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working, so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she's right. We didn't have the green thing back then.

When we were thirsty we drank from a tap instead of drinking from a plastic bottle of water shipped from the other side of the world. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn't have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical socket in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest fast food restaurant.

But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing back then?

Please forward this on to another selfish, grumpy old character who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart-aleck young person. Remember: Don't make old people mad. We don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to tick us off.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Streets Where We Grew Up





The top photo is of Poplar Avenue about 1918. The first visible house on the right is the Squibb's, one of the first built. Next door is Anne Brown's family home. The bottom picture is of Maple at Woodlawn Avenue. The first visible house would be where the famous Wheeling musician Kim Butler grew up. The house (not visible) with the hedge next door was Goodwin's, my grandparents. How lucky we were to grow up in a neighborhood where the streets were often our playground, everyone knew each other, and crime was unknown. Our neighborhood is now on the Register of Historic Areas.



Saturday, January 14, 2012

Good OLD Woodsdale



This is a postcard of Woodsdale as it appeared between 1907 and 1918. In the foreground are the trolley tracks that eventually ran thru what we now call Lovers Lane or the Pig Path. You are looking at the rear of the houses on lower Maple. Woodlawn Ave and the Trolley Station would be to the right of the fifth house. Goodwins, my grandparents, lived across from the Walkers whose house is sixth from the left.


Up on the hill, behind the houses is the Stratford Hotel. It was located just off of Edgwood Street. At the time ,it was one of the largest spas east of the Mississippi. It had 84 rooms, three sun parlors, two dining rooms, a spacious lobby, a tennis court, pool, and a billiard parlor. It had an on site power plant and a phone in each room.


One dining room seated 300 and was the site of many luncheons including one for the WVU football team. Invited guests included the Welty's, Speidels, Eckharts, Hazletts, McLures and Franzheims. Lily List, the manager and Pres. of the Corp that owned the hotel was said to be the most beautiful woman in the city.


The hotel was popular with high society and it was cheaper for them to live there in the winter than heat their houses. They brought their own furnishings, enjoyed delicious meals, drank the spa water, and best of all....enjoyed the many masked balls held there. It cost $15 a week for a suite.


On January 13th, 1918 a spark from a gasoline engine in the ice department set waste nearby on fire. The fire spread quickly, but there was little that the fire department could do as they only had one steamer to supply the hoses and the water froze as it hit the building. Ms. Meek, who taught many of us English at Triadelphia told me that she watched the fire from her bedroom and her father went to help fight the fire. No lives were lost, but the building was a total loss.


I have much more information about the hotel and the springs. If you are interested, feel free to contact me, but be prepared to write a post for this blog spot in exchange.


Oh, and by the way the correct spelling is Edgwood Street...it is a combination of the names Edgington and Wood, the families that owned the properties originally .


Thursday, January 12, 2012

Linda Rogers Owen

We mourn the passing of Woodsdale Kid Linda Rogers Owen, sister of Nancy Rogers Rea and Judy Rogers Towns.

Linda Rogers Owen
Born in Wheeling, West Virginia
Departed on Nov. 22, 2011 and resided in Waynesville, NC.

Linda Rogers Owen, age 69, of Allens Creek Road, Waynesville, NC passed away on Tuesday, November 22, 2011.

A native of Wheeling, West Virginia, she had previously resided in Hollywood, Florida before moving to Haywood County in 2006. She was the daughter of the late Edward and Dorothy McColloch Rogers and was also preceded in death by her husband, Don R. Owen, who died in 1995 and a sister, Ellen Tharpe.

Linda worked as a nutritionist and was a professional artist. Linda was devoted to all God’s creatures, especially her cat, Charlie.

She is survived by her daughter, Traci Owen, of Waynesville; one son, Travis Owen and his wife, Carol, of Port St. Lucie, Florida; two sisters, Nancy Rhea and Judy Townes, both of Crystal River, Florida; one brother, Bob Rogers of Plantation, Florida; and two grandchildren, Kyle and Kady.

Memorials may be made to SARGE’S Animal Rescue, P.O. Box 854, Waynesville, NC 28786.