REMEMBRANCES OF AN 87-YEAR-OLD JEFFERSONIAN
By Charlie Miller

Several years ago, I did some articles in the Madison Press, entitled “Things That I Remember.” This is somewhat along that line, remembering what it was like growing up as a kid in West Jefferson.

I was born September 2, 1936, in the upstairs of 204 ½ W. Main St. My father was Joseph Harold Miller, who went by Harold. My mother was Virginia Wallace Simpson; she was raised by her cousins, Fred and Hazel Simpson.

Mom and Dad were married June 18th, 1935, and they went to housekeeping in a downstairs apartment at the house on the northeast corner of W. Main and Hampton Streets. Later, they moved to the upstairs apartment at 204 ½ W. Main in a house built in 1902 by Thomas Gregg. He was a widower at the time and lived there with his son, McCelland, and wife, Marcella Gregg. Mc Celland was known as “Clell” or “Tek” Gregg. He had served in France during WWI and was the Rural Mail Carrier for years.

The Gregg family was a pioneer of Madison County. Thomas had served in public office in West Jefferson. We lived there until I was about 3 or 4 years old, when we moved to 68 Putnam Ave. This is when my first remembrances start. This was around 1939 or 1940. At that time, there were only two houses on Putnam Avenue, ours and the brick one still standing on the corner of Putnam and London Road. I can’t remember if Putnam was paved or not. At that time, the village water tower sat next to us on the north side.

I don’t think Putnam Avenue was paved at that time; it was probably just chip stone and tar. West Jefferson had one policeman and a night watchman. Lonnie Wolfe was the Chief and head of the entire department. He didn’t have a police car but a motorcycle. I remember sitting on the front porch and watching him ride down the street. Whenever he saw me, he would wave and kick out his feet.

At that time, Timmon’s Dairy was located at 84 E. Main St. They delivered milk in town; they would leave the milk on your front porch and pick up the empties that you put out. The milk was in bottles and was NOT homogenized. The cream rose to the top, and in the winter, when it was cold outside for a very long time, it would expand and pop the cardboard cap and rise up and look like a pop sickle. Mom would always complain that it had a bluish cast and there was water in it. There was an old joke at that time that went, “When asked how business was, the reply was, Great, we had to drill another well!”

Across Main Street was the ‘gravel pit’, which is now the big lake by the Water Department. The Company was the West Jefferson Sand and Gravel Company. I could lie in bed and hear the equipment working. Around that time, a piece of equipment had fallen into the water, and they sent a diver down to retrieve it. The report that came back said that he found where the current had washed out large caves under the land between the lake and Main Street, and the land would eventually cave in. Eighty years later, it’s still standing.

At that time, the village limits on the west side ended at Putnam Avenue. Around 1940, Route 40 had been made four lanes from Columbus to West Jefferson. When it left Jeff, it became two lanes. A few years later, it was made four-lane all the way to Springfield.

There was no Westwood, no Merriman Addition, Fellows Ave. ended just west of Garfield, no West Chester or Johnson & Loveless Sub-Division, or development along the London Road. In 1940, the population was 3,886. In 1940, Garfield Avenue, Depot, Burnham, Washington, and Jackson Streets were either gravel or chip stone and tar. Out houses were still prevalent. The business section was primarily located along Main Street, between Heath and West Streets. In 1938, the Interurban had been disbanded and the tracks taken up. It came through in 1901 and in 1911-12, when the railroad was elevated, the center lane of the railroad viaduct was for the Interurban tracks. As traffic increased, this was the cause of numerous accidents. Whoever got to the center first took it! There was only one traffic light located at Main Street and Walnut Street. It just had a red and green light, no yellow light.

In 1941, we moved to 56 S. West St. Later that year, we went to war when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. I was 5 years old and remember hearing the announcement on the radio. At that age, I didn’t think much about war. Two houses from us lived the Hollands. Dave was a year older than I, and Lee was a year younger. The one thing that I remember was that rubber tires were rationed along with gasoline. Dad worked in Columbus. One morning, he got up and found that someone had stolen both tires on the driver’s side of the car.

In 1943, Dad bought a house at 170 Fellows Avenue. There were three new houses on the north side of the street, and Fellows dead-ended after the third one. There was only one house on the south side of the southwest corner of Fellows and Garfield. There was no house on the north-west corner.

Bob and Thelma Gill lived next to us; they had a son, Gerald, who was 11 and 4 years older than me. Mrs. Gill’s brother was Pete Loveless. Pete was a Warrant Officer and was serving in Italy. He would send Gerald a lot of captured German equipment home. We would play soldiers and fight battles in the vacant lot across the street. We had some pretty elaborate foxholes in that lot.

Down the street in the big house on the corner of Fellows and Frey Avenue lived the Major Seamon family. He retired from the Army and was the mayor of West Jefferson in 1938. They had a son, Jack, who was about 3 years younger than me. We’d play in the sandbox in my backyard. We were very good friends. Jack ended up as a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery. On my 8th birthday, September 2, 1945, was VJ Day, the end of WWII. I remember it like it was yesterday, my mother let Jack and me celebrate by beating on a bunch of pots and pans.

We didn’t have TV, computers, direct dial telephones, cell phones, or smartphones. You had Tom Mix, Hopalong Cassidy, Superman, and others on the radio, and for a certain number of cereal box tops, you could get a secret code ring. At the end of the program, they would give you a code to figure out. If we weren’t playing army, we would play Drop Sudden. You all got into a circle with someone in the center who was ‘it’. He had a rubber ball, and the object was for him to holler “Drop Sudden,” and if you didn’t, he could hit you with the ball, and you were it. You could also take off running, and he could try to hit you with the ball; it was usually played at night. We used to play a game at school, I can’t remember its name, where you had a team on each side of a building. One team would dare the other side to come over; the object was to get your team over without one of them getting hit with a ball that the other team had. If you could do that, your team would win.

In the 1940s, there were just three houses on the north side of Fellow Avenue west of where it crossed Fellows, and only one on the south side at the corner of Garfield and Fellows. Fellows dead-ended after the third house, and there was just a field where the Merriman Addition is now. In the 1920s, there was a large dog racing track and grandstand. The government finally closed it up, and nothing was left but the field. We would play in that field. One day, we found a block of concrete that was a safe. We worked for a week trying to get into the ‘treasure’ that was thought to be in it. When we did all that, there were some old ticket stubs in it!

At that time, there were only about three houses on the south side of the Lilly Chapel Road between Garfield and west all the way to the curve that you can now branch off of and go into the Merriman Addition, and none of the south side. The first house that you came to on the north side was the Bill Yantes house. It had a big oak tree in the front yard with a huge tire swing hanging from it. It was such a long rope that you could swing out over the Lilly Chapel Road.

Some of the favorite pastimes for kids were shooting out the street lights with BB guns, which I didn’t do, but did help lay what we called booby traps on the road by laying a strip of mud and limbs clear across the road. This ended abruptly when the police showed up. There was hardly any of the traffic on the Road that there is now. We used to ride our bicycles out to the store at Lilly Chapel in the summer and get some pop and ice cream.

In 1946, I got my paper route. I was 10 years old. I got it from Larry Berry, and it was The Columbus Citizen. There were three of us who carried The Citizen: Dale Thompson, Gary Compton, and me.

The Wagner brothers, Jim and Bob, delivered The Columbus Dispatch. This was the period of the ‘Hey Day’ for the newspaper business. You never had any trouble getting new customers. I usually had around 55, Dale had about the same, and Gary had a little fewer. You got your customers where you could, so we went all over town. We usually had our own little sections. I had saddlebags for my bicycle, and I could roll my papers and put them in the bags, and then reach back and grab one, throw it, and keep moving. Sometimes you had a few problems if it landed on the roof or through a window. The papers came out by Greyhound bus in the afternoons. The bundles were left in front of Mellott’s Drug Store, and we’d all gather there and fold them. Now, Mellott’s had two big plate glass windows in front, and ever now and then a bicycle would fall against one of them. Then, look out, here came Doc Mellott madder than a wet hen, and we caught H. (right now, 2024, the building is occupied by Dr. Garwood)

I had a Western Flyer bike, which I bought from Western Auto here in town. At one time, we had it and the Beaver Auto Store. There were a lot more businesses in town than there are now. (2024) I delivered all over town. After I got my papers folded, I started off to the Red & White Store, then the I. G. A. Store, crossed over to the south side and got the businesses there, then down Depot Street, under the viaduct, and delivered on Depot and Washington Streets. Dale delivered to Jackson Street. Over to Burnham Street between Depot and the Middle Pike. Right off of Walnut Street, after you went through the viaduct. Up on the embankment was the freight office, and next to it was a pole with a long arm on it.

There’s a bag of mail hanging from the arm of the pole next to the railroad tracks. Along comes the mail train with a large hook and snags the bag. One day, I came through the via duct, and there was mail all over the ground. The hook had snagged the bag, and evidently, the pole didn’t let go of it!

Then down Walnut Street to Town Street, and up to the north side of E. Main Street. I delivered to the last house on that side of the street, almost to the bridge. Crossing Main Street, there was no McDonald's, no shopping mall, and no Ann & Tony's. There was only a big empty field all the way down to the creek. Then down the Mill Road. There were only three houses on the east side and a couple on the west side. It was a long way down to the end of the Road, and I delivered a house there. It was a long throw to the porch, and I threw one through the front window one time! Paul Parsons lived near the end of the east side, far back from the road. He ended up with several on his roof. Across from his house was the “Lustron” house. These houses were built to meet the demand of returning G.I.s from the Second World War. Between 1948 and 1950, 2,000 homes were built. They were prefabricated steel homes selling $8,500-$9,500.

They ceased building in 1950 when the company ran out of money. Some of them are on the National Register of Historical Places.

Back up to Pearl Street and then Heath and Chester Streets, and up Fellow Avenue and down the Lilly Chapel Road all the way to almost the current site of the High School. I never calculated the mileage, but it was a long way on a bicycle. In the winter, when I couldn’t ride, I had to walk. At that time, there were very few houses on the Lilly Chapel Road in town. The cost of a daily subscription was about 5 cents per copy.

Back in the ‘40s, there was no Rumpke, Waste Management, and the like. You had a big metal barrel where you could burn most of your trash. You had two other options. One was Walter Hann. Walter was born in 1875 and died in 1956. In 1920 and 1930, he was listed as a Drayman. By 1950, he had retired. He lived on Lincoln Street, and between it and the houses on the west end of Fellows Ave. was a big field where he kept his horse. In the 1940s, he would hitch his horse to his wagon and go around town to pick up trash. His brother, Adam, lived off E. Main Street, next to the creek. Walter would take the trash down there, and Adam would burn it. Many’s the time that Donnie Long and I would hop on the wagon and pick up the trash and put it in the wagon. Walter would usually buy us some ice cream as payment. The other option was Dewey Solomon. Dewey lived on Burnham over in the “Commons.” He didn’t have a horse, but he had a cart. He would do the same thing as Walter, but in smaller loads. I don’t know how he disposed of them. Dewey was born Carl D. Solomon in 1898 and died in 1967, and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery. I have Dewey’s cart in my front yard. (2024) From 1958-1982, I worked at the I.G.A. with Jim Arganbright (bn. 1911) and Ellis ‘Doc’ Chambers (bn. 1922). From them, I heard all sorts of stories about West Jefferson Old Timers. Dewey was very short. One of the stories that went around town was that someone would tell an unsuspecting person that Dewey had sued the town. The unsuspecting listener asked, “Why?”. The answer would be, “Because they built the sidewalks too close to his real end.

-More Old Timer stories. There have been numerous characters in and around West Jefferson. Another story that was told was of a man, no name, who was about a quart low. He went to see a movie at the Orient Theater. In the movie, there was a scene where a woman was swimming naked in a pond, and there was a railroad track in front of the pond. Just as she was about to exit the pond, a train went by. By the time it passed, she was out and dressed. Well, they usually ran the movies twice for the benefit of the late comers, so they ran it twice. After the second time, the man was still sitting there. Mrs. Kaho, the theater owner, asked him what he was waiting for, and he said, “Run it one more time, that train’s going to be late sometime!”

There were other stories that weren’t for mixed company.

I got my first haircut in a building on the southeast corner of Main and Walnut Streets, where the Huntington Bank is now; the barber’s name was Elmer Smith. When you were small, he would set a board across the arms for you to sit on. There were usually a half dozen chairs lined up along the wall, and generally, they were full of old-timers who either came in for a haircut or to kill time and tell stories. They usually smoked cigars or chewed tobacco. There were always a couple of spittoons waiting for the juice! You could always hear some wild stories. Some were a little hard on my little tender ears. The first barber that I really remember was Charles “Shoey” Shoemaker. He came to West Jefferson in 1942, and he and Art Terrel had a shop on the west side of that same building. Shoey was born in 1879 and died in 1961. He later partnered with Mel Neff in the building that sat between the old Hunting Bank and Pat’s Video. Other barbers that I remember were Ed Estep and Kramer Davis; they used to have a shop in the village hall. Later, they separated and had their own shops. I never remember a lady barber until Sue Campbell started, and now there are two, Sue and Carol Langemeir.

In former days, the town was self-sufficient; you didn’t need to go to Columbus or shopping malls. At one time we had four grocery stores, two auto stores, a bakery, three hardware stores, two undertakers, a furniture store, a dairy, two beauty shops, three doctors, a drug store, three or four restaurants, this was before ‘fast food,’ a dry cleaners, two meat markets, two barber shops, a new car dealer, two clothing stores, a five and dime store, a jewelry store, two appliance stores, a blacksmith, a warehouse, a laundromat, a creamy station, three mechanic shops and 3 bars, a couple of pizza shops and a locker market, two pool rooms and bowling alley and a duck Pin alley and a movie theater, are own electric company. There have always been at least two doctors and dentists. There was a gravel pit that dealt in sand and gravel. The 1940 population of West Jefferson was 1,386.

When I was 2 years old, the Electric Railroad (Interurban) tracks were taken up, and at one time, Main Street was brick.

Probably back in the 1920s, Main Street had been designated as U. S. Route 40, which ran all the way east and west from the East Coast to the West Coast. For a long time, there was just one traffic light at the intersection of Main and Walnut Streets. It just had two lights, one red and the other green, no caution light. Until the 1950s, all Main Street parking was diagonal, but there wasn’t the traffic that there is now. In the mid-50s, there was no I-70 freeway; all of this traffic came through town. As a kid, it was exciting when out delivering my papers along Main Street, I could see all sorts of license plates, they were from all over the United States. Also, back then, you could tell the make of a car from a distance; there were very few models. Four-door cars were not as plentiful as they are now. Some of them even had what was called “Suicide Doors,” these doors were hinged at the back instead of the front as they are now. If the door happened to open while moving, the wind caught it, and you could get thrown out. Cars didn’t have automatic gear shifting, cruise control, electric windshield wipers, and if it had a radio, it was AM; there was no FM, XM, or SM.

On Saturdays when Ohio State played football at home, traffic was so heavy that if you wanted to cross Main Street, you went across on Walnut Street, where Police Chief Lawrence (Lonny) Wolf stood directing traffic after he had shut off the traffic light. Lonny was the Chief of Police and was really the whole department at one time. Outside of ‘Bird Clark, who was before my time, we had two different Night Watchmen, Tom Lowe and Glen Post. Tom had twin daughters, and they lived on the corner of Pearl and Twin Streets. The other was Glen Post. I remember Glen, he was a real character. When he was Night Watch, he carried a six-shooter. He was born in Nebraska, and I found seven different birthday dates between 1871 and 1892. I have three newspaper clippings on him. The dates on his tombstone are March 16, 1874, to April 6, 1988. The first clipping is undated: WEDDING PLANNED- West Jeff man, 101 years old.- He bought his first car in 1904 and learned to fly in World War I. (The record shows that he served 6 months as a Pvt. June 22, 1918-January 26, 1919.) He says that he was born on March 6, 1871, and is celebrating his 101^st birthday. At age 18, he accepted his first badge when the sheriff was shot down, and he wore it for 14 years. He has worked as a police officer in Kansas City, Pennsylvania, and Dallas, Texas, and as a Merchant Policeman in West Jefferson and a Special Deputy in the Madison County Sheriff’s Dept. (In 1920, he was working in a coal mine in Pennsylvania.) He can’t drive in Ohio, but says when his fiancée sets the date, he’ll drive after I get out of Ohio, as I still have a West Virginia driver's license. I was shelled in France during WWI and was a 2^nd Lieutenant when the war ended. (See above military record) Another clipping dated March 17, 1971, “At 108 he is the oldest D.A.V. veteran living in the U.S.” He says that he is a veteran of the Spanish-American War and WWI. He served as a medic in the First World War. (see above record) The 3^rd clipping is undated, MAN ACCUSED OF MENACING.- A 106-year-old man was accused of threatening a visitor with a gun at a neighbor’s home. Glenn Post of 2660 Avalon Pl., Columbus, was charged with aggravated menacing. William Menear filed the misdemeanor charge, claiming Post pulled a gun and threatened to shoot him. Columbus Police had not arrested Post by Tuesday. “Colorful” is a mild description of Glen Post.

Speaking of colorful characters, one that the modern generation missed by not knowing him was born Edwin Earl Gregg, and went by the name Earl or E. E. Gregg. The Gregg family was an early pioneer in Madison County. He was born on March 9, 1887, in a house that featured “fireplace” heat, located on Gregg Road, 2 ½ miles southwest of West Jefferson. He said, “We had a big wood pile in the barnyard and a big wood box near the fireplace and cook stove, and it was my job to fill it.” He acquired a bicycle at an early age. He married Emma Olney on May 13, 1911, and farmed. He got his first motorcycle, a 1910 Harley-Davidson. In 1917, he bought a big two-cylinder Harley, entered it in a race, and won a trophy. He would ride his motorcycle to London when he was secretary pro-tem of what became the Madison County Farm Bureau. In 1919, they bought a home at 73 Fellows Ave., and he became a bank teller in the Commercial Bank. In 1926, he was a School Board member and a Clerk of the Village. He and the Mayor were at the courthouse when a penitentiary break occurred. The Sheriff came into the courtroom and asked for volunteers. He and attorney Harvey Crabb went to Rt. 665, where the prisoners were caught, and a battle ensued. Gregg was featured in the Ohio State Journal when the prisoners were captured.

“After the bank closed, Emma and I went into the insurance business.” (Gregg’s Insurance went into business in the building that stood on the present site of the Huntington Bank. He was elected Justice of the Peace and was in that office for 20 years. In 1953, he retired and sold the business to Charles Hay. At one time, he was the second-oldest notary in Madison County. In 1935, Gregg bought 27 acres on the northeast corner of Plain City-Georgesville Rd. and U. S. Rt. 40 and built a house. He had a garage beside the house facing Rt. 40, it had no door in the front, and in it was parked a Model T automobile. He had so many inquiries to sell it, he finally put a big sign in front of it that said “NO”. At 88, he was still riding motorcycles. Back when Evel Knievel attempted to jump the Snake River, a picture appeared in the Madison Press of Earl on his motorcycle stating that he wanted to jump Little Darby Creek.

Earl was a great trap shooter and won many trophies. He participated many times in the National Trap shoot, which at that time was held at Vandalia, Ohio.

In later years, Earl had a moped and would dress up in costumes and ride around town. One year, when I was re-elected as mayor, I had him as a Justice of the Peace to swear me in. He came up to do the job one evening during a council meeting dressed as Santa Claus and swore me in! When he was 95, some people broke into his house and robbed him. Earl passed away on October 30, 1983, and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

It started back before my time, but I remember it as a kid and even up until I was in the army. It stood on the north-west corner of Main Street and Blair Road, where the Dollar General Store is today

(2024) This site was utilized at an early date; this is where the first school was located in 1823. In 1814, Nehemiah Gates had erected a mill behind it on Little Darby Creek.

When I first saw it, it was a big frame building built around 1910. I knew it as the Jefferson Gardens Dance Hall. It was built by Bill Wanzell, who sold it to Mrs. Bryson of Indiana, who called the open-air dance hall "The Brysonian." It was then sold to a Mrs. Bender, who renamed it Jefferson Gardens because of the beautiful trees and climbing roses at the entrance. In 1938, when I was 2 years old, Mr. and Mrs. Al Longstreth purchased it. They were the first to have the big band sound in the area. Mr. Longstreth played the saxophone and violin, and Mrs. Longstreth was the vocalist and played the guitar. People would come from Dayton, Cincinnati, and Columbus, and they also taught people how to square dance. On New Year's Eve, the crowds were fabulous.

Tom Lowe was the policeman on duty at the hall for 18 years before Tom became Bill Pfeil. When the Longstreths took over, Major Seamon was mayor, Dick Merriman was Chief of Police, and Luke Forbes was a patrolman. When first built, the hall was heated by two coal stoves, and a trip to the restroom meant going down over the hill. Eventually, a furnace and restrooms were put in.

On warm evenings, the windows were opened and the music and laughter wafted over the nearby cemetery. Mrs. Longstreth’s mother manned the kitchen, serving sandwiches, snacks, and beer. The piano player was a music teacher in the Columbus School system. She always appeared quite mysterious to the patrons. She had shiny, black hair with tiny, tight curls all over her head, and when she sang between square dances, all lights were turned out in the bandstand except a small one over her music. She had a deep baritone voice that never failed to catch the attention of newcomers.

In the early 50s, women wore low heels and full skirts; slacks were still unheard of. The Longstdreths operated the hall until the early 60s, when they went on the road playing at hotels. Later, one of their sons operated it as an arena for wrestlers, and later it was used as an auction house.

Many couples met at the Gardens, got married, and later brought their children back with them. One couple came straight from their wedding, bringing the entire wedding party. The bride square danced the entire evening in her bridal gown and veil.

I can remember being in the Jefferson Gardens one time, once when I was on leave from the army, I went up on a Saturday night, this was probably around 1956, and it was packed. By 1974, it was just an old, empty building falling down.

Probably one of the most loved Jeffersonians of my time was Allen Patterson. Al was born on July 17, 1917. His father was Calvin Patterson. Calvin started working for Ed Britton around 1920, whose grocery store was located at 14 E. Main Street. In later years, Cal, his sons Allen, Arthur, and Ralph, and daughter Catherine all worked at Britton’s. When Ed died in 1952, Allen bought the store.

Allen died September 28, 1996, and West Jefferson would never be quite the same. There may still be some in town who remember Al, whose lives won’t be affected by his death, and some who never knew him, and that’s a shame. If you knew Allen Patterson, you knew West Jefferson of years gone by. A time when the town was like one big family—in fact, most of it was! A time when people looked out for each other, a time when we were all much closer. A lot of people knew Al better than I, but not too many have known him longer. The stories of Al helping people would fill a book, and a list of names of those who owe Al a debt of gratitude or owe him money would also fill a book.

Along with his church and wife, Hattie, the Red & White was his life. One year, he decided to sell the store and then bought it back. He knew, and everyone knew, that was where he belonged. The town will miss Allen Patterson, and when it closed, the store as well. One time, a Columbus TV station came out and did a feature on Al and the store; at that time, I think it was the 2nd-oldest Red & White store in the country.

I was privileged to work part-time as a meat cutter for Al for several years and enjoyed every minute of it. It was a store that time forgot; you’re not going to find many like that again, and you’ll not find many like Al. Al would buy a side of beef, a front quarter, and a hind quarter, and it was all sold before it arrived. There was no power equipment; it was all cut by hand, as was the pork.

A lot of people took advantage of him, but he never let that stop him from continuing to help them. The Bible says that a good name is more precious than riches. Now Al has both, for the Lord called him home, and there he’ll have a mansion and riches untold.

Another Jeffersonian who was loved, respected, and served on the Village Police Force for 46 years was Frank E. Cox. Frank was a West Jefferson boy, born August 1, 1933, to Lewis and Melissa Cox. Frank served 26 of his 46 years with the Force as Chief of Police. He married Phyllis Allerton on August 24, 1954, after returning from the military. He served in the U. S. Marines during the Korean War, receiving the Purple Heart and Silver Star. He always said that he was the last Marine to be wounded in Korea. Later, Chief Ward said that he brought a presence to the position which was a continuance of the ‘spit and polish’ of his days in the Corps. He knew how to read people and was a good judge of character. Even though by law the mayor is head of the Police Department, he would go to Frank to get his opinion on police matters. As Chief Dennis Gates said, he was a great Chief, a good person, and a good friend. Frank died on April 8, 2014, at the age of 80 and is buried at the New Hampton Cemetery.

A man well known for years was Glenn Webb, usually going by the name “Webby”. Glenn was born on Christmas Day, 1915, to Thomas and Lillie Webb. He was the oldest of four sons born to them. Lillie’s father was born in Sweden, and her mother was born in Denmark. Glenn graduated from West Jefferson High School, Class of ‘35. A couple of years later, he opened the Sinclair Filling Station with Eugene Compton. Gene was 9 years older than Glenn and, in 1930, was working as a mechanic in a garage. Their filling station sat on a lot owned by Albert Braithwaite, who also owned the Electric Shop on the site that is now the Veterans’ Park. The Filling station was known as “Gene & Glenn’s.” In later years, he and Gene separated, and Glenn and Edith owned and ran the Shell Filling Station on the corner of Main and Twin Streets.

I first started dealing with Gene & Glenn in 1952, and gas was $.25 a gallon! Glenn told about the start of the Ox Roast. “I’m the one who came up with the idea for the Ox Roast.” He said that he got the idea one morning in 1939 or ’40 while reading the Ohio State Journal. I read about a carnival they were having in Ashville where they were giving away free roast beef sandwiches.” He and Gene Compton closed the station and went to Ashville. They ate the best sandwich that they had ever eaten. Next Monday, the first customer was Ben Edwards, who ran the meat market. Glen presented the idea of having an Ox Roast to the Business Men’s Association, and the West Jefferson Ox Roast was born.

Born and raised in West Jeff, he had a deep-down fondness for his hometown and said the mutual feeling among residents is key to the roast’s success. He is a big fan of the West Jefferson High School. In 1995, he had attended every home and away football game since 1930. He also bused the football and basketball teams for 26 years without missing a game. He had a habit of when bussing the football team, he would come down East Street between Pearl and Main Streets, and said every time that he did, we won. He began calling it Lucky Street. Later, the village was renamed East Street, Lucky Street. The school inducted him into its Athletic Hall of Fame and awarded him a lifetime pass to all school competitions.

For years, he was the self-taught organist at the Community Freewill Baptist, and also served as Deacon and Treasurer. In 1995, he was Grand Marshal of the annual Ox Roast Parade. Glenn’s neighbor stated, “Webby has a heart as big as the United States...Plus Mexico.”

(And he wasn’t wrong)

Glenn Webb died on September 24, 2006, at the age of 90 and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

 Well, I’ve written about my first job when I was ten years old, the paper route., When I turned 15, I wrote about having the paper route, cleaning the Orient Theater, and the I. G. A. Store all at the same time. I decided to give up the paper route and movie theater and worked only at the I.G.A. Back in 1955, there weren’t supermarkets like we have today. The store was located on the site where the Veterans Memorial Park is now. It was in a building shared with the Electric Shop. I may have written about seeing my first TV in the Electric Shop window. It was the University of Dayton basketball game. This was about 1940, and there were no TV stations in Columbus. I watched it on WLW-D, Dayton, and the picture was horrible, but it was amazing. I worked part-time during school and full-time during the summer. One job was “carry out boy.” There were two cash registers; usually, only one was in use. There were no scanners; each item was rung up one at a time by the cashier, and then I bagged the groceries in paper bags and carried them out to the car. One job was we got potatoes in 100-pound bags, I opened the bag up and sacked potatoes in bushel and peck sacks. The store wasn’t air-conditioned, and I did this in the back room. If the potatoes had been there a while in the heat, you had to sort out the bad ones, and they were pretty bad. Doc Mellott would order potatoes in a 100-pound bag, and I’d put a bag on my shoulder and carry it down, but I was 15, so it was no problem! The eggs were done much the same way. Farmers brought in their eggs in 30 dozen cases. I had to sort them the same as potatoes and put them into one dozen cartons. Some of the eggs were as bad as the potatoes.

The meat was not pre-packaged; it was cut and displayed on a tray in the meat case. Each piece was weighed and wrapped, and the price was written on the package. The meat came in quarters, front and hind, and hung in the meat cooler to be broken down into primal cuts. Once a week, the meat had to be pulled from the meat case and stored in the cooler, and the cases had to be cleaned out.

There were very few frozen food items; mostly, it was Birds Eye vegetables and Banquet TV dinners. When I was a kid, the store was open from 8 a.m. until 6 p.m. on weekdays, 8-9 on Fridays, and 8-10 on Saturdays, and closed on Sundays. Saturday was the big day. All of the farmers came in on Saturday nights to shop; it was wall-to-wall people on the sidewalks. Even the Orient Theater was open late. Almost all businesses were closed on Sundays. I don’t remember if Mellott’s Drug Store was even open all day. A lot of businesses closed on Wednesday afternoons and were closed at least part of the day on Good Friday, and were closed on Christmas and New Year's Day. Back then, you bought drugs at a drug store and beer and liquor at a liquor store.

The I.G.A. store was known as Dave & Doc’s, and later the Darby Lane I.G.A. A. stood for Independent Grocers Alliance. Most of them have been put out of business by the likes of Kroger, etc.

Dave & Doc’s was typical of small-town groceries.

As I conclude my walk through memory lane, some people come to mind, some I may have already written about, and these stories are more in-depth.

_ Charlie Kuehner- I remember Charlie Kuehner from the early 40’s. He owned the dry goods store on the corner of W. Main and West Streets in the building that his father had built. Charlie’s parents had been born in Germany and had immigrated in 1855. Charlie was born July 17, 1863, and when his father died, he took over the business.

In the 40s, when you went into the building, you thought that you were in the 1800s. I would go shopping with my mother, although his father, Martin, was a boot and shoe maker, the store had all sorts of dry goods. He was a small man of slight build. As a kid, I always thought that he was a little strange.

Sometime in the 40s, I was probably 8 or 9 years old, and I went with my mother shopping at Kuehner’s. I can’t remember what she bought, but Charlie gave me a 1878 Silver Dollar; she must have spent a lot!

Charlie died April 9, 1962, at age 98 and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery. Later, the business was bought by Leigh Bradfield, and it held Todd’s Pizza, and later a donut shop. In 2015, part of the building fell in. The second year that we were married, we moved from London to an upstairs apartment in that building, and now have two lights from the store hanging in my carport. At one time, the building held Dr. Hurt’s office, Dr. Gibboney’s dental office, and apartments.

Ralph (Beefy) Parsons, Sr. I don’t know where he got the name Beefy, but he was well known by that name. Ralph was born on October 6, 1904. Around 1929, he opened up his business in the building at 18 W. Main St. This building was built about 1858 and held three different businesses at one time. In 1938, he bought the building and remodeled the front. Later, he added on to the building and connected it to the house next door, which was the Dr. Quinn house, built in 1858. He sold Case farm equipment and hardware. To walk into Parsons Hardware was like walking into Kuehner’s. I remember it better when I was old enough to need hardware stuff. It carried everything that you would need and some stuff that you didn’t need. In later years, I would go in there and ask for something, and Ralph would point out its location and say, “Help yourself.” It appeared that the prices hadn’t changed in over a decade.

He was active in civil affairs and had served on the School Board. He could be kind of crusty sometimes. After his wife Bessie died, you could usually find him sitting behind his desk in his office, which was just an area in the middle of the store. Bessie was a gracious lady; she was the home room mother for our son, Sonny, and me all the way through first grade until graduation. For years, Ralph and Bessie gave a party to our school class on the large

farm that they owned on the Olmstead Road. Ralph died January 1st, 2001, at the age of 96 and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery. After Ralph died, his son Ralph Jr. sold the building and moved the business to a new building on the London Road. He discontinued the hardware part and sells farm equipment at this writing.

Albert (Tab) Braithwaite. Just like the nickname ‘Beefy’ Pasons, I don’t know how Albert got the name “Tab,” but that’s what he went by. Albert was born on November 25, 1897. He was listed as an electrician in the 1930 census. Sometime between 1930 and 1940, he and his wife Kathrine opened up the Electric Shop in the building at 42 E. Main St that was shared with the I. G. A. Store. In 1937, my parents bought an RCA Victor console radio from him, which I still have in my home. In 1951, he built the building at 12/14 W. Main St. At that time, the Post Office shared the east side of the building. In 1940, Walter (Pete) Loveless worked for him. Tab and Kathrine lived on West Main Street on the current site of Flyer’s Pizza for years. They sold their house, and the whole house was picked up and moved to 38 S. Twin Street. Tab died in May of 1975, and Katherine had passed away the year before, in September of 1974; both are buried in the Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

Walter (Pete) Loveless. Like Beefy Parsons and Tab Braithwaite, I don’t know how he got the name Pete, but that was generally how he was known. Pete was born on October 1, 1915. By 1940, he was working at Tab’s Electric Shop as a radio repairman. He served in the army from March 19, 1941, to February 3, 1944, and rose to the rank of Chief Warrant Officer. He served in Italy. During his service, he invented a certain type of electrical equipment for the military. Two years after his discharge, he married Marcella Ingles and opened his own appliance shop on the northeast corner of Main and Chester Streets. The building has since been razed. For a number of years, he served as the Deputy Registrar, and Ohio license plates were sold there. All West Jefferson plates ran from number Z-51 to Z-1599. Everyone tried to get the lowest Z number. The people at the Registrar's office would save them for you. People were known to wait until someone died to jump to a lower number.

Pete was very civic-minded and was involved in a lot of service to the village. He was also part of the West Jefferson Realty Co. There is a Loveless & Johnson Addition sitting between W. Town St. and the creek along Darby View Drive. Pete died on February 23, 1991, at the age of 75 and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

Merrill H. Mellott, Sr., Merrill (Doc) Mellott, (it seems as though everybody in town had a nickname) was born June 11, 1888, at Springfield, Ohio. He was working as a pharmacist in 1910 in Springfield. When Doc was 30, he enlisted in the army on April 30, 1918, and served in Company D of the 308th Engineers. He served in the battles of Aisne-Marne, Oise-Aisne, and Meuse-Argonne and was discharged on May 17, 1919. In 1928, he came to West Jefferson and bought the drug business of Zachary Taylor and moved into the building on the corner of Main and Walnut Streets. In 1936, he purchased the property and had the old building torn down and erected a new, large one. On one side, the drugs and accessories were sold, and on the other side, he installed a soda fountain. It had a long counter and about a half dozen booths. It did a lively business. It became quite a meeting place for kids after school, and also drew a lot of people who could learn about everything going on in town, and some things that were not. You could always say, “I heard it in Mellott’s.” Doc was a short man, and you could always see him scurrying around behind the soda fountain. He had a daughter, Teddy, who died young, a daughter, Katie, who became a teacher, and a son, Merrill Jr. (Sonny). Doc passed away on Christmas Day, 1965, and is buried at Pleasant Hill.

Ellis (Doc) Chambers. He was always known as Doc Chambers. He was born on March 3, 1922. He was a meat cutter before he enlisted in the Navy on October 21, 1942. He served as a pharmacist on Auxiliary Repair Dock ARD-27 until March 7, 1946. ARD-27 participated in the Battle of Okinawa Gunto and was awarded a Battle Star

On his return home, Doc went into partnership with David Richeson and opened Dave & Doc’s I.G.A. on the corner of E. Main St. and Center St., the current site of the Veterans Park. He was an excellent meat cutter. In the early 50s, the partnership was dissolved, and he went into partnership with Frank Sparks, who owned other I. G. A. stores. Despite having excellent meat, the store had very limited parking space, and when the Cardinal Store opened in the mini mall at the east end of town, the I.G.A. finally closed in 1981.

Doc was a bachelor and married late in life; for years, he lived in an apartment upstairs in the building that was originally the Star Hotel. Doc died on November 14, 2006, 84 years the age of and is buried at the Memorial Park Cemetery in Lima, Ohio.

Cecile Dietsch, Cecile worked in Charlie Brennen’s grocery store located in the building that was on the current site of the Huntington parking lot. Cecile had married Otto Dietsch in January of 1921. They lived on Twin Street; they had no children of their own but raised Jerry Chambers, Doc’s younger brother. I remember her from the early 40s. Brennen’s store was a lot like the Red & White store, but didn’t sell meat. It was like going back in time. I remember the small boxes of cookies that were on the bottom shelf; they had a cellophane window in the lid through which you could see the cookies. I thought this was great. Then there was the cracker barrel, and worse, the sauerkraut barrel, which had a lid on it. I couldn’t resist lifting the lid, UGH! The odor really hit you. Cecile was a jolly woman, and I always liked her. She passed away in 1992 at the age of 90 and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

Ed Arganbright, right next to Brennen’s, was Ed’s meat market. There was a door in the grocery store where you could climb the stairs and go into the meat market. Everything was displayed in a meat case; nothing was wrapped. You put the cut on the scales, got the price, and wrapped it in brown or peach colored paper and wrote the price on the wrapper. Some meat cutters were accused of putting their thumbs on the scales, but I don’t believe anyone ever doubted Ed. The front of the shop faced Main Street, and steps led up to the front door. There was a bell that hung there that rang when you opened the door. Somehow, I came into possession of that bell, and when I opened my meat shop in 1980, I hung it over the door. Later, after we had closed, I located Ed’s granddaughter in England and sent it to her. Ed had several brothers and sisters. His brother Jim cut meat with me at the Darby Lane I.G.A. I remember that when my parents were shopping, Ed had a tray of wieners in the case, and he would reach in and give me one. Now these were natural casing wieners that I didn’t care for, but I was afraid that if I said I didn’t want one, he’d never give me another. Ed was born in 1903 and died in 1971, and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

Homer (Sheepy) Braithwaite. Homer was born in West Jefferson on November 11, 1901. He was a brother to Albert (Tab) and Carl (Buttermilk) Braithwaite. Homer was a lineman for Columbus & Southern Ohio Electric Co. He was the second-longest serving mayor in West Jefferson’s history. He served three different terms between 1948 and 1965. Carl could be seen sitting on a bench on the corner of the village hall, and there is a plaque there in his honor. Homer lived on Heath Lane and always drove a brand new Chrysler 300. Around 1948, I was accused of stealing some money from one of my paper route businesses. Homer questioned me about it and did some investigating, and we found out that it was stolen by the son of the owner. He died in Ft Lauderdale, Florida, on April 4, 1973, and is buried at Pleasant Hill.

Miller Clark. Miller was born July 16, 1878, in West Jefferson, the son of Albert Clark, the famous West Jefferson Night Watchman. When Miller registered for the draft during WWI, he was working for the Ohio Electric Railroad (Interurban). I started taking newspapers to him in 1946. In 1901, he married Minnie Shade, whose parents were from Germany. He had three daughters, Lucille Arganbright, Bessie Speasmaker, and Jenny Woodward. Miller used to sit on the checkout at the I.G.A. store and tell stories about the old days in West Jefferson. When he was a kid, he lived at 68 S. West St. across what is now Garrette Park. He said that there was a big pear tree in the side yard, and when it bore fruit, people would pick the pears.  Miller passed away on January 20, 1960, and is buried at Pleasant Hill. 

Ed Johnson. Ed Johnson was born on October 27, 1876. His ancestors were the first settlers of Jefferson Township. He lived in the house at 78 S. Heath Lane, which he built around 1914. He was an attorney. I started taking newspapers to him in 1946. He was well known in the county and owned property in Arkansas that he visited regularly and wrote about in the Madison County Democrat. He also wrote novels, one of which was Old Yeller, a dog that he owned in Arkansas. It was said that the movie, Old Yeller, was based on that book, but it was never proven. He was still dispensing law at the time of his death in 1954 and is buried at Pleasant Hill.

Mike Harden. Mike was a personal friend of mine. He was born on August 8, 1946, and raised in West Jefferson. He was a graduate of W.J.H.S. and served as a Medic in Vietnam during the war. He wrote several books, and he had a syndicated column that appeared in hundreds of newspapers, including The Columbus Dispatch. He wrote frequently about West Jeff and its people. Mike died on October 13, 2010, at the age of 64.

The first doctor in West Jeff was Dr. David Wilson. He was born in Washington County, Pennsylvania, on April 20, 1789. He settled and started his practice in West Jefferson on December 1, 1831, just as the town was starting. He practiced until his death on July 15, 1877, at the age of 88. he is buried in the New Hampton Cemetery. The first doctor that I remember was:

Dr. J. William Hurt. Dr. John William Hurt was born on November 1, 1902, in Portsmouth, Ohio. He attended Miami University in 1923 and graduated from The Ohio State University in 1927. That year, he married Virginia Clevenger; the following year, they moved to West Jefferson, and he set up his practice in the Kuehner Building on the corner of West Street and W. Main Street. With him came Dr. Marshall Gibboney, and they came as “partners”. This was in the same building where the Kuehner store was located. Dr. Hurt was in the office on the west side of the building, downstairs. Above him was Dr. Marshall Gibboney, Dentist. I have visited both doctors a number of times. Dr. Hurt’s nurse was his wife, and Dr. Gibboney’s nurse was his wife, Olive.

Dr. Hurt would make house calls; he visited our house several times. Dr. Gibboney died in 1987. In the 1970s, Dr. Hurt built a medical complex consisting of a doctor’s office and a Dentist at 35/37 S. Twin St. In 1963, Virginia Hurt died, and the doctor later married Tina Bowman. Dr. Hurt passed away on April 14, 1994, and is buried at the Sunset Cemetery. His son J. Richard Hurt took over his practice.

Dr. Hurt delivered many babies in West Jefferson. He delivered your writer in 1936 at 204 ½ W. Main St. One year, when the Senior Citizen Christmas dinner was held, Dr. Hurt was a special guest. I happened to be the Mayor and was asked to say a few words. At the end, I mentioned that Dr. Hurt had delivered your mayor. John Kile was dressed as Santa Claus, spoke up and said, “And he also delivered Santa Claus!”

George C. Sheetz. Dr. Sheetz was born on February 6, 1877, in Coshocton, Ohio. His father Emanuel was born in Germany. He began practicing medicine in Perry County. Sometime around 1930, he settled in West Jefferson, and his office was located in the building that was the old Star Hotel. He bought a house at 115 S. Center St. He was in his 60s when I first remember him. I can’t remember the year it was, likely in the mid-40s, that I got Scarlet Fever. Dr. Hurt was out of town, and Mom had Dr. Sheetz make a house call when we lived on Fellow Ave. He had two daughters, Ermine, who graduated in the class of ‘32 with my parents. The other daughter was Eleanor, who was his nurse. The doctor and nurse came to the house. I needed a shot of penicillin, and I thought that I would get the shot in the arm, but no, it was the other end, and the nurse gave it to me. I was embarrassed to death. Doc Sheetz passed away on June 16, 1955, and is buried in Perry County.

Dr. Theodore Froncek. Dr. Froncek was born August 15, 1923, in Lafferty, Belmont County, Ohio. He attended Ohio Wesleyan University, graduating in 1943, and enlisted in the U. S. Navy, commissioned as a Lt. Jg. He served until April 17, 1946. On June 24, 1951, he married Charlotte Rader, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Harold B. Rader, local Undertaker and Mayor of West Jefferson, 1956-1957.

Dr. Froncek moved to West Jefferson and opened up his practice in the old office of Dr. G. C. Sheetz in the old Star Hotel. Dr. Froncek died August 2, 1992, of a heart attack and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery. His son succeeded him after he died. Dr. Ted delivered two of our daughters.

Dr. Sol Maggied. Dr. Maggied was born on March 3, 1916, in Logan, Ohio. He graduated from O. S. U. and enlisted in the U. S. Navy on September 11, 1943, and was commissioned a Lieutenant. His parents were born in Kiev, Russia, and naturalized in 1934. I don’t remember much about Dr. Maggied, as my doctor was Dr. Hurt. I believe that he came to West Jefferson between 1946 and 1950 and set up his practice at 42 S. Walnut St, across from Garrette Park. He later remodeled a building on E. Pearl St. behind the bank and moved his practice there. He married Mary Virginia Smith, who was his nurse, on December 9, 1942. She died March 5, 1964. The main thing that I remember was when I was about 10 years old, I wrecked my bicycle and needed my chin sewn up. Dr. Hurt was out of town, and Dr. Maggied was the one who sewed me up. He passed away on March 17, 1982, and is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

There have always been undertakers in New Hampton/West Jefferson. Some are buried at the New Hampton Cemetery. I remember three doctors.

The one below was retired when I first met him.

W. H. Pence. W. H (Harvey) Pence was born January 5, 1868, near Tipp City, Ohio. On January 14, 1893, he married Etta Bradley. In 1899, he bought/built the building at 44 W. Main St., which he used as his mortuary and later housed the Electric Shop and I. G. A. store. He was an Undertaker by trade and also sold furniture in this building. He was the first person in West Jefferson to own an automobile. In 1906, he built the house at 217 W. Main St. As a youngster, I remember him coming into the I.G.A. Store once a month to collect the rent. He was considered the richest man in town. He had two daughters, Lucille and Marjorie. Lucille married a man named Charles Miller (no relation). Mrs. Pence died in 1947 in a car accident. In 1927, Russel Blauser came to West Jeff and associated with Mr. Pence, and it was called Pence & Blauser. Between 1940 and 1950, Mr. Pence retired, and Mr. Blauser took over the business. I remember Mr. Pence as a short, gruff businessman. I have his roll top desk in my den.

Russell Blauser. Russell Blauser was born May 6, 1895, in Basil, Ohio, located in Fairfield County. It was misspelled after the Swiss city of Basel. In 1920, Russell was farming in Fairfield County. Around 1927, he had moved to West Jefferson and was a partner of Harvey Pence; the business became Pence & Blauser. In 1928, he bought the property at 46 E. Main Street and razed the old building, which at one time was the office of the Ohio Electric Railway (Interurban), and erected a new building and made it into a furniture store. By 1950, Mr. Pence had retired, and Mr. Blauser set up his funeral home at his home, which he built in 1916 at 29 W. Main Street on the corner of W. Main Street and S. West Street. Later, the Funeral Home was Blauser & Baker. Mr.Blauser’s first wife, Ilo, died in 1944; the following year, he married Miss Gladys Traftzer. Mr. Blauser died on February 15, 1985, at the age of 90 years. He and Ilo are both buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

Harold B. Rader. For years, there were just two undertakers in West Jeff, Rader and Blauser. Mr. Rader was born in Circleville on August 3, 1899. When he registered for the draft during WWI in 1918, he was working as a clerk in the Rader Brothers store in Circleville. In 1924, he married Miss Jane Van Cleve and was living in Mt. Sterling, Ohio, and working as an undertaker. In 1930, he moved to West Jefferson and built the house at 57 S. Center Street, which he used as a residence and funeral home. Mr. Rader went by the name of Brodie Rader, but his actual middle name was Briner. Mr. Rader served as Mayor of West Jefferson from 1956 to 1957. He died on August 4, 1978, aged 79 years 1 day. He is buried at Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

I’ve finally run out of memories. I’ve tried to bring a picture of how West Jefferson once was and how it got to be as it is today. The early series were history, and later things that I personally remembered. Most of the names in these series are long forgotten or lost to history. Once, they were the life of the town. I hoped to bring some of them back to life for the current and future generations. Life was a lot different then; the world was different, even a lot different from when I was a kid. Sometimes I wonder if the trade-off was worth it. I have a lot of good memories of those days. I have known a lot of the people that I’ve written about.

A Post Script: I talked about how Ralph Parsons, Sr., was nicknamed “Beefy” and didn’t know why. Here’s “The rest of the story.” All of the Parsons men have had nicknames to distinguish them from one another, as all were named Ralph Parsons. At one time, Ralph Sr. and his wife Bessie lived on a farm at Rio Grande, Ohio. They sold the farm to Bob Evans, and that’s where he started his business. Ralph and Bessie raised beef cattle, hence the nickname “Beefy.”

finis