President’s Letter May 2014
Ah, spring has finally arrived. I have been busy sketching and have several more ink sketches complete. It is so good to be outside in the fresh air. The reading I have selected for you this month is one of the items that I found in the BGSU archives. It is printed with permission. I am still enjoying searching and reading about the history of Scotch Ridge. Many of the people that live in Luckey have relatives that came from Scotch Ridge.
I would like to have a tea in June. Anyone interested?
If you have a chance visit our web site; luckeyhistoricalsociety.org. This web site is FULL of Luckey area history.
It looks like the restaurant may open again in Luckey. It will be nice to have a place here to eat again.
Hope you enjoy the bit of history. Note; There are many misspelled words in this text. I tried to keep it as original as possible so have included errors.
HISTORY OF THE U. B. CHURCH SCOTCH RIDGE, OHIO ON THE 95TH ANNIVERSARY OF ITS FOUNDING, PREPARED AND READ BY LAURA LOOMIS KNIGHT ON JUNE 18TH, 1937
“Grandma tell me ‘nother story.” What child of today does not take keen delight in reliving the days of their ancestors? “Gee! Did my Great-grand-father fight with real Indians? I bet I wish I had lived then.”
Heroic indeed; Those pioneers of our Wood County, in northern Ohio; untitled heroes they, kings in home spuns and queens in calico; they ceded to us the land of ‘nother stories in which to live, love and carry on.
Imagination travel back with me through scenes of half or three quarters of a century. Landscapes as designed and laid by the Master artist; swampy forests, dense with undergrowth and huge heavy trees; an unbroken, level stretch of land; miles of sticky, mucky swamp-land, with here and there a sandy knoll or ridge, whereon the weary traveler might pause to rest, without danger of sinking into utter oblivion in the mire of the “Black Swamp”. Much that belongs in that era has faded completely; hardships endured are unknown; romances that would make thrilling ‘nother stories are untold; paths of outstanding events lie buried deep under cement or macadam highways. Nearly fifty years elapsed after the coming of the first white settlers before our country was considered worthy of a place on the atlas of America; years of unceasing labor. Our ancestors built firmly and well on a solid foundation, when in their westward trek they chose this site and settled here “for better or for wuss”. Their trails (at first mere foot-paths indicated by blazed trees) were gradually converted into barely passable wagon roads; their shelter, log cabins made from the logs they hewed in clearing ground, on which to raise food for their families. Buffeted, discouraged oft-times, but determined, they struggled bravely through personal and national progression. “They made their products from start to finish and viewed the results with pride. They knew the deep, soul satisfying pride of the creator.”
“Once upon a time, “Grandma began, “Twas the 19th of April, 1834, to be exact, a hardy little band of Scotch people started from the City of Glasgow, Scotland, for America. A hardier, healthier, more determined lot of people seldom have left Scotland, Their little brig, when her prow turned westward to brave the Atlantic, for “the land of promise”, registered just 284 tons. After 42 days buffeting the billows they landed safely in the bay of New York. They were bound for Perrysburg, Ohio on the Maumee River.
Why to this particular port of God’s Vineyard? You wonder.
Well, in 1832 John Muir Sr., wife and children William, James, Samuel, John and Jean (Mrs. Robert Dunnipace, Webster) landed in Quebec, Canada. Cholera was raging there so they left immediately for Buffalo, N. Y. Accidently meeting a lake navigator, a Capt. David Wilkinson of Perrysburg, O., in command of the schooner “Eagle” he induced them to go with him to Perrysburg. They like it so well here that they wrote encouragingly to their neighbors in Scotland. In 1833-34 the following heads of families joined them.
Alex Thompson, Robert Davidson, John Fenton, Hugh Stewart, William Muir, Thos. Forrester, Robert Reid, William Dunipace, Peter Shanks, James Shanks, William Weddell and Alexander Vass. At Cleveland they chartered a small schooner. One of the sailors, an old man, had once been up the Maumee River, The others knew no more about Perrysburg or the navigation of the Maumee than he did; they sailed around for half a day hunting to get into the mouth of the river. Finally they got to where Toledo now stands and standed. Robert Stewart’s father, a carpenter by trade, suggested they go ashore to the woods opposite; there he superintended the making of large carsweeps. This was the first vessel ever propelled up the Maumee River by the strong arms of a lot of sturdy Scotchmen. Arriving at Perrysburg they found no place to rent. David Ladd, a resident, had a log house with the walls up and places for the windows cut out, but no floor in and no door on. With a few boards to put their chests on; four large families spent their first night in Perrysburg in this shelter on the 26th day of June, 1834. An epidemic of ague was raging some escaped, though at one time there were 13 shaking with the ague in one room; it took from 6 to 9 months to fully recover from the ravages of the disease. The men got work in a page 1
brickyard owned by James Stafford. After a time it was decided best for each family to go to themselves. John Fenton, and Hugh Stewart Sr., went out the McCutcheonville Rd. to hunt land; this road had been under brushed the winter before by William Muir and some of the Loomis men and boys; they had lived in tents while cutting the road as far as the Portage River; now Scotch Ridge. They came to where Levi Loomis had just started in the Woods, and made a small opening. He was a man who had a good knowledge of the woods and where the section lines were, the land having been surveyed but a short time before. Mr. Loomis showed Mr. Fenton and Stewart the land (where Hugh and Ann Stewart used to live) with the David Main farm adjoining – 80 acres each. Mr. Loomis gave them a description of the land and the men had to walk to Bucyrus to the land office to enter it at $1.25 an acre. ‘Twas then the Scotch, she-makers, carpenters, tanners and the like, by trade had to learn to chop. Many a time we were all poorly clad to go through the cold winters and sometimes the provisions were very scanty; at the same time I cannot but think we were a merry lot. Wild animals and fish added to our food variety, as well as to our sport. One, Margaret Forrester, I read, trapped 25 wild turkeys in her back yard in one season; coon hunting was amply rewarded while deer often ventured into the clearings to be trapped or brought into the larder by other means. Wild honey was plentiful and a blessing to us.
Our parties or social gatherings consisted in religious services, in the homes, on the Sabbath, house and barn raisings, and husking bees. Excitement ran high indeed in our midst when one of our neighbors was found murdered near what is now Sugar Ridge; he had started for Sandusky, with a pack of skins and pelts for sake, when last seen alive. Two weeks later his body was found by woodsmen, lying back of a dead log in the woods. It was supposed that he had been robbed and killed. F. A. Baldwin and John W. Canary, rising young lawyers, in Bowling Green, spent mush time on the case but nothing positive was ever proven.
In this setting came the Rev. James A. Woodbury; he had been sent out from the Congregational Churches in New England as a missionary. Quoting from old church records, “The United Presbyterian church of Scotch Ridge was organized in 1841 by Rev. James A. Woodbury.” John Muir, James Waugh, Sr., and Alexander Vass were elected elders and James Waugh, Sr., and James Waugh, Clerk. An old log building made of hand-hewn logs, with split black-ash logs for benches was the first house of worship; it stood on a rather high rocky spot on the old Billy Muir farm. “Charter members were, Peter Shanks, John Fenton, Hugh Stewart, Robert Dunipace, Robert Stewart, James Muir, Walter Davidson, Robert Davidson, John Fenton, Robert Forrester, Alexander Vass, John Muir Sr., Lewis Forest, James Waugh, Thomas Adams, John McDowell, and their wives, James Waugh Jr., Forrester, Samuel and John Muir Jr., Robert Milk, Margaret, William and James Davidson, and Mrs. Betsy Smith (grandmother of Mrs. Stevens Morgan at Prairie Depot, (Wayne) who rode on horse-back from their home to church each Sabbath.) On the Sabbath all roads led to the church, even as in later years all roads in the country led to Bowling Green, to the county fair.
On Sabbath morning at ten O’Clock by the sun, Uncle Billy Forrester would appear at the church door and in a squeaky voice would call, “Awah! Awah! Come Awah in; service is to start.” Bible school lasted one hour; preaching service followed which also lasted an hour.
At 12 noon, the congregation was dismissed, to eat the lunch they had prepared the day before and brought with them, and visit with their friends and neighbors. Promptly at one, by the sun, the call would come from the doorway again, “Awah! Awah! Come Awah in, another service is to start.” Filing to their places, women and children on the south side of the church and men on the north, the service began. Psalms were sung without notes or music, as they could be fitted to common, long, short or Hallelujah meters. At 3:30 the service ended and the homeward trek began; some in ox-carts, some on horse-back, others afoot, to renew their worldly activities and prepare for the meeting on the next Sabbath.
Mr. Levi Loomis’ death, at a very early date found roads nearly impassable, and the settlement without materials to make a coffin. In this emergency, Alexander Vass, a carpenter by trade, cut a straight, green, oak tree, split out slabs, dressed them nicely; and made a coffin. It was so heavy that it took the united strength of all the men present to handle the casket after the body was in it. He left his wife, three daughters and three sons to carry on. “Sorrows, we too shared; still, we were a happy group, we were all on about a common level and the exigencies of the situation made us alert, active, and energetic. We had to be up and doing.” Page 2
The cemetery of Scotch Ridge speaks in marble and granite, of the last earthly resting place of many of the pioneers; it is one of the most historic spots in Wood County. Among the old settlers buried there; Thomas Forrester, 1835, Levi Loomis, 1836, (died on the road near the ten mile house). Ellen Davidson, 1841. Philinda Sneeden, Mary E. Dunipace, 1846, William Waugh, 1847 and many others. Fenton was the first Post Office; it was located near the “Old Devil Hole” a rendezvous for horse thieves; from there it was transferred to the “Ten Mile House; which is one of the oldest landmarks in the township; this was an important stopping place and P. O. for a wide district. In the fifties, from the organization of the township the trustees assembled here to transact business; the electors to cost their new votes; and the disciples of Terpsichore to dance. The church was a short distance southeast, and the burial ground, near the church, so that the funeral, marriage, dance and Sabbath meetings insured for the “Ten Mile House” an ebb and flow of visitors which the other places did not experience. The place lost its glories when the P. O. was removed to the Loomis” store; south of it, the pleasant hamlet of Scotch Ridge and around it fertile farms and the practical, industrious agriculturists. The post office had been established at “Ten Mile House” long before the war; during the early days of the war it was removed to the George Loomis store as being more central. Mail was brought in on horse-back, presumable twice a week, but when the roads were bad the mail came when it got there.
Yearly, all the people of the congregatioin assembled to clean and whitewash the church; while women washed and scrubbed, some of the men prepared a large kettle of white-wash on the outside, while others chipped and tiered wood for heating the building throughout the year; cleanliness was next to godliness. Rev. Woodburywas succeeded in 1843 by Rev. Bonner, who in turn was succeeded by Rev. James Miller and other supplies until 1852 when Rev. Jackson Duff came with his family to be one of us. When the roads were muddy (today I frequently hear “They don’t know mud” and I agree heartily) it then not an uncommon sight to see church-goers wading along the road bare-footed, carrying their shoes; on nearing the church they stopped on a grassy knoll or bared tree root, cleaned off the mud as best they could, and donned their shoes to enter the church. In dry dusty weather I am inclined to think, more Sabbath “hankies” were used for dusting shoes than for the purpose designed. As the population increased, the old church grew inadequate, and a new frame church was decided upon, to be built on the main highway from Perrysburg to New Rochester, the Old McCutcheonville like, now, State Highway Route 23. “Ye kinna build doon there in yon mudhole,” declared old Uncle Billy; but others decided they could and would, thus arousing “Scotch Rebellion” in our midst. “Verra Weel! Awah with ye! It is oi will niver be darkenin’ the kirk door in yon mud-hole.” True to his word he passed his remaining days. Alexander Vass with the help of others, mostly volunteers, built the now old, new church. The new church was finally completed; hitching posts with logs laid across lengthwise, for securing the weary oxen or horses against wandering to greener pastures, stood on either side and in the rear of the building. The church home looked like the place they had visioned for the ownership of God. To enhance the exterior beauty Mrs. R. P. Roper and William Fenton each donated a pine tree to stand on either side of the porch at the entrance; today they still stand guard, those silent sentinels of the past. Candles were used when extra light was needed. A large box stove, on either side of the church, near the middle, heated the surroundings; a special length stove wood was prepared and tiered near the church door by the men; they way that wood crackled and burned and was finally consumed, portrayed eloquently the “unquenchable fire” that lay in wait for those who sinned and were bad.
Ten years after the arrival of Rev. Duff, in 1862, the present frame building was dedicated. There were 86 members at this time: 2 Vasses, 9 Davidsons, 8 Dunnipaces, 5 Weddells, 6 Muirs, 1 Galloway, 3 Kelly, 5 Foresters, 1 Waugh, 5 Fentons, 3 Foorests, 2 Main, 2 Lamont, 4 Dodd, 1 Smith, 1 Carey, 1 Banks, 4 Stewarts, 2 Philos, 6 Shanks, 3 Merles, 1 Greggs, 2 Kassons, 3 Eatons, 2 Ropers, 1 Christie, 2 Donalds, 1 Bandeen. Rev. Duff in his little spring wagon drawn by “Old Charley: his sorrel horse, was a familiar and welcome sight on the roads in those days; one of his family, Sally, I am told still survives; two of their children died of “Black Dyphtheria” while in our midst.
A church wedding with all the attending gayeties and preparations was planned; Margaret Duff was to marry Dr. Barnett, a returned Missionary from Assyria, and they were to go to Egypt as missionaries. Missions were ever in the foreground in this little church. In 1865 communicants subscribed $475.60 for the support of the pastor and Page 3
church; $9.65 for the Freedmen’s Mission at Nashville, Tenn. And other sums for foreign missions. In April 1869 Rev. Wright preached here and declared the pulpit vacant; the same year Rev. Hubbell was installed as pastor. Rev. Hubbell, with his wife and family, lived in the old “Caldwell” house across from the church. The impressive dignity of his profession was rather pronounced as in a high silk hat, and black long tailed coat he strode toward the church on Sabbath morning; he was tall, straight, bushy browed, with a heavy thatch of curly black hair. The children were over awed and many actually afraid of the man, though, at heart, he was kindly, I am told. Mrs. Hubbell had a sweet, clear voice and sitting in the 3rd seat, middle row from the back, led the singing after the Rev. In his high-pitched squealy voice would announce, “Those of ye who are awake will sing the 23rd Psalm”. About this time, also, the layman of the congregation began praying audibly in the church; who’some were inclined to feel it was improper, as designated by “Old Uncle Billy”, who, when called upon to proy, by the minister, one Sabbath morning, responded definitely, “Ye’d best do ye’re own praying ye git payed fer’t.” David and Main and George Weddell were elected elders in 1872 and administered the church affairs. In January 1872 a number of members were received and the church was reported to be in a flourishing condition. William Bandeen, still active, was elected elder in 1875, succeeding Robert Forrester, deceased.
In March, 1877, Rev. J. D. Murch was called to the pastorate. His family arrived here on July 4th to make their home. At his suggestion the community was divided into settlements and prayer meetings were held in one of the homes, in each section, monthly; the meeting began at two P. M. and lasted until about four, after which supper would be served to those present. In the North settlement were the David Mains and Hugh Stewarts and others; East settlement were Uncle Billy Dunnipace and Aunty Bell, Weddells, Jane and Maggie Dunnipace, Jane and Maggie Muir, Shank boys, Katie Banks and others I can’t recall; West settlement; included the Forresters, Fletchers, Aunt Mag Davidson, Dave Shanks, Mielkes, Greegs, Bandeens, Wights, Gordon Duncans, Bates and others; South settlement were Canfields, Fentons, Tom Shanks, Robert and James Davidson, Muirs, Walkers, Loomis, Blacks, Householders and others.
Learning the Psalms and catechisms were requirements for communicants in those days; much pride was taken in being able to recite these and receive Bibles and Psalters for the accomplishment. On Friday afternoon, (quarterly), preparatory services were held for communion; a visiting minister came to preach and conduct the service; Saturday afternoon another service was held, at the close of which “tokens were given to communicants to be presented at the communion table the next morning; none without these might commune, except by special meeting and grant of the session. ON Sabbath morning the “Table of the Lord” was prepared; a long table extending across the west end of the church was covered with the finest of linen, as spotless as could be made; on either end was a silver plate containing “unleavened” bread and covered with a spotless linen napkin; on either side of the plate stood a silver goblet filled with unfermented grape juice, one for the men and the other for the women. One group of communicants succeeded another to the table until all were served. Pious dignity and silent reverence attended it all. Quoting from sermons of this day, “A child born of uncovered parents is lost.” There are infants in Hell a strand long for the sins of their parents.” Nothing but psalms might be sung in the church. No member of a secret order (lodge) could be admitted to or hold membership in the church. Non-attendance at church without sufficient reason was cause for dismissal. Pleasure riding on the Sabbath was a sin. A child born out of wedlock, along with its mother, was forever beyond redemption. Sincere and devout these pioneer ancestors of ours in their belief that this was “holy and righteous altogether”.
On May 27, 1879, completing 2 full years of service. Rev. Murch passed to his reward. Of his family, two daughters are still living; Jennie and Anna who married E. L. And S. D. Loomis (cousins). Chauncey who married Amelia Canfield went to Egypt as a missionary; after 17 years of service he died and was buried among friends there. Rev. F. B. Murch dedicated this building to succeed the one in which his father had served. (Deceased) William rest near Ashtabula, Ohio.
Rev. J. T. Caldwell, a young man just finishing his seminary work was next called to the pastorate; he made his home with Ellen and William Fenton at Householder’s Corners; during the week he taught school and on the Sabbath he preached in the Church. His horse, “Old Joe”, figured prominently in the romance he had with Miss Laura Canfield, which culminated in a second church wedding. Oh, what a gala event: an ox-yoke covered with flowers formed a background for the bride and groom while flowers and greens of varied sorts and colors bedecked the sacred building. A popular young couple were starting on life’s journey together with the blessings of all about; many were the tokens and hearty the well wishing.
As today, changes were ever on the wane. Some of the men began caring for some of their offspring on the north side of the church; also some of the newly-weds began sitting together in meeting; Ed and Jennie, Silas and Jennie, Will and Ida, Bob and Lottie, Long and Lucy and others; daring young couples, they. Still “Let your women keep silence in the churches” while not one of the “ten commandments” must have been the eleventh. Those same women spoke more eloquently oft times by their labors throughout the week; washing, ironing, sewing, in fact most all of the home-work in those days leaned toward getting ready for the Sabbath; when, on Saturday came the general “round-up”; no picnic ever received more advance preparation than the Sabbath Day. Cooking, baking, sweeping, cleaning, scrubbing and finally laying out of the clean clothes and polishing the shoes for the “Day of Rest”. After the supper work was done, the wood-boxes filled, water was carried in and put to the heat in boilers and kettles for the weekly bath in one of the family wash-tubs; washing machines of the eighties. We smile as we think o’er and recount those days; but, with it all, they carried with them a vision of, Page 4
and reverence for Our Maker, “The Creator of every good and perfect gift” through whom all things were made possible we learned to labor with the idea uppermost that we would have something to give to the “Lord” on the Sabbath. Mrs. Ortha Wight Meyer very beautifully portrays “Learning to Tithe” in her poem; “The Tenth Lamb was God’s”.
William Fenton was the faithful caretaker of God’s House in those days, faithfully he trudged the “Old McCutcheonville”, week after week, to clean and prepare the “Lord’s House” for the Sabbath; carrying his little can of “coal-oil” from the “corners”.
Homely, kindly, ever sincerely devout in his work as in his worship; he taught a class of giggling girls on the Sabbath day; I can still see the tears come to his eyes as he admonished us to be “guid” as it was the “Sabbath Day” and we were in the “Lord’s House”. Of a fellowman he was heard to say, “He was a guid man, and a foine neighbor, but he wud be a whustlin’ on the Sabbath”. “Faithful unto death”.
We now had lights in the church and had evening meetings instead of all day. Two chandeliers, containing coal-oil lamps hung in the middle of the church, on either side; while a large hanging lamp hung over the pulpit; fastened to the side walls were four bracket lamps with reflectors.
From time to time “Scotch Rebellions” loomed; early in the 90’s some of the progressives felt that it would add to their worship and praise, to have an organ accompany the signing; others persistently vowed that “the wooden de’il had no place in the “Lord’s Hoose”; that it was an instrument o’ the de’il was proven beyond doubt as they were used in places of amusement and –s-sh- in dance halls. Finally however, “Praise the Lord with timbrel and harp” from one of the psalms of David prevailed and the organ was purchased; Jessie Halsey Ickes was the first organist, succeeded by Mattie Wight, Maggie Davidson and others from time to time. The new “Psalters” were purchased with written tunes, in the various meters; Ed Loomis led the singing, and everybody sang.
The primary class with Lottie Householder (Dunnipace) occupied the north-west corner of the church; a never-to be-forgotten spot was the knot-hole in the corner of the pew; how we all strove to be the first there and sit next to the corner; then slyly when we thought no one was looking, and holding tightly to our penny, we would see if it would fin into the hole without going down; too often, away would go our penny never to be retrieved while tears and sobs were oft-times hard to control. There was a legend accompanied that hole; it ran thus: A bad, little black man lived under the church; he had put the hold there to get the pennies of the children who had been naughty; at the hole he waited each Sabbath morning to snatch away the pennies. I lost one penny when I thought I had been unusually good all week so I’m sure he didn’t play fair. I asked several, at the time the seats were torn out, how many pennies were found, and if they found the little man, but so far I’ve been unable to find out.
The church was being used now, during the week for missionary meetings and W.C.T.U. A two-day convention was held which attracted many from away. Demorest Medal contests were held with the young people, of the township, vieing with each other in the reading of dramatic poems for the prize; Bertha Augustine won the first one; others to follow were, Dwight Canfield, Hugh Roper, Clara Greiner (Jimison), Clarence Wittee and others I failed to list. Loyal Temperance Legion meetings were held on Saturday afternoons once a month; we learned, “lips that touch liquir shall never touch me”, and as I recall, much of loyalty and patriotism to our country and homes, that now fall the duty of the public school teacher. We also learned to march and put on some fancy drills which were used in “Decoration Day” programs, that day cannot be recalled without seeing the kindly smile and proud look of Robert S. Davidson flit across memories’ page. A more proud friendly and sympathetic ally we children never knew. We accepted, with a smile, his announcement, “We’ll now have a song by the band”; and many a smothered giggle was audible when on “The Sabbath” he would announce “next Sabbath weill be favored with a fupply, a young man from Xenia Cemetery will preach.” His daughter, at the organ who beyond doubt had coached to say “seminary” would blush, as he would glance at her and smile, with a naughty little twinkle in his eye, as he concluded; while, his wife, Alice would smile sweetly, and with dignity and poise, shake her head. He was church secretary and treasurer from 1886 until his death. Capt. S. S. Canfield was always in prominence there, too.
Christmas was celebrated with a pageant; “The Crowning of Christmas”. A huge tree was brought in from the forest, evergreen braces were tied on and decorations of strung popcorn, red berries and candles made it festive. Each one present received a gift; these in the same Sabbath School class received similar gifts. To encourage good reading a library was established for loaning books; Mr. Shanks was librarian, with one of the Muir boys for assistant; quite a favorate joke with him was, “yon comes a muckle hissy, best be g’en her a muckle book”. Young men were not encouraged to do their wooing or courting on the Sabbath.: A certain young man determined to escort a certain young lady home after church; he was greeted at the gate by the father of the lass; “ony nicht but the Sabbat, Robert, ony nicht but the Sabbath; Ye’d best be ga’ng awah hame, noo”.
In 1882 Mr. John Wight was elected to succeed Robert Dunnipace, deceased and James Davidson (a true 49 er, tall, stiff, straight, and dignified in a high silk hat) was succeeded by David Main as clerk of the session.
In 1893 Rev. Calwell resigned and Rev. E. H. Huston with his wife and son Loty came among us. They lived south of the “Corners” and for convenience in getting about had a two-wheeled cart and a sprightly bay horse. I pause here to mention the horses, for while outside the “House” they were faithful attendants at the service. “Old blind Fora” Page 5
trusted and proven, would wind her way without line or halter from the Will Bandeen home to her place at the old hitching post week after week.
Two years later Rev. Neil Ferguson succeeded Rev. Huston; young, tall and handsome, with a charming bride by his side they fitted nicely into our picture. He went about his parish duties driving dapper, high-spirited horses. In fact, I once heard a man say he got the best of him in a horse deal; so in spite of the fact that he was a preacher, he must have been “almost Human”, would you say? He was congenial, sympathetic and a good speaker. During this period W. R. Murch and Will church were elected and ordained ruling elders while David Main and e. L. Loomis were release by certificate. In 1902 Rev. Dobbins was called as pastor, he with his wife and growing family lived and dwelt among us, to know the joy and sorrow of birth and death, even as we. In 1907 Rev. Ashenhurst, a returned missionary from Egypt, was called, even on active organization for missionary work the old Scotch church waxed even more so. Roswell Caldwell and wife, Hazel Caldwell, his sister, and Ida Weigman (Johnson) all spent time and exerted their Christian influence in the mission fields of Egypt.
The now old-new church was becoming out-dated; the site was not as centrally located; a newer, more modern church building was needed to keep abreast of the times. Mrs. T. B. Roper, C. W. Wight; John Meilke and Tom Shanks were selected as a committee to plan and supervise the building of the new United Presbyterian church at the four-corners, Scotch Ridge, Ohio. The site selected is on land secured by Mrs. Lucy Black’s Grandfather Householder, 103 years ago yesterday, June 17, at $1.25 an acre. [This building was dedicated in Jan of 1904.]
In our eager strife to keep stride with the “March of Time:” we almost forget the conditions through which our ancestors carried on; we accept as our rightful heritage what they struggled hard and fought bravely to cede to us, another generation Will the coming generations profit as much by our efforts and perseverance? The ‘nother stories of the land where our mothers lived are freighted with interest for today’s child. Study them, learn them, love them and relate them for they make soothing “Bed-time-stories”.
“Yes Sir! And that’s real honest to goodness true, my gran’ma tole me so.”
Next meeting May 15th, 2014,
6:30 at the Luckey Library.
Tea maybe the second week in June???
Over and out