A Little piece of Paradise… College Hill, Ohio - SELFCRAFT

Repeal, then only on occasions such as Jane’s debut ball in December ‘39 or my wife’s and my RehearsalDinner in December ‘41. I do not remember that there was a real wine cellar in the house.Aunt Sylvia and ‘Nunkie’ Logan stepped up the pace of entertaining, but only a bit. Drinks werenow prepared in the ‘new’ sitting room, often held in hand during singing around the grand piano in theliving room. Aunt Sylvia’s father had taught piano at home as she grew up and she played well enough byear but never learned to read music or to transpose key. She had a very sweet, feminine voice and sangaccordingly, so the rest of us could not sing the National Anthem to her accompaniment. To everybody’sjoy, the singing that began with the Cocktail Song (There’s a moment that comes before dinner... is asmuch as I recall) did not end until Brown or Horace announced dinner. On Christmas Day, this was at1:30 PM and lasted until well past 3:00. Then, most of us went for a long walk.Two events stand out in memory: Jane’s debut, the great hallway illuminated by candles, the livingroom and sitting room stripped, with two bands alternating for constant dancing. The atrium was as warmas a room, filled with poinsettias and some white flowers, all of which sparkling in candlelight andsubdued hidden lighting. Two bars out there and then, at one-thirty in the morning, the dining roomopened to reveal a magnificent buffet of good, plain, ‘eatin’ food’ as my oldest brother called it:scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, English muffins brought from the East (they weren’t yet available inCincinnati) and Mrs. Kinney’s Danish and cookies. Our rehearsal dinner was dimmed by the fact thatPearl Harbor had occurred but plans previously made sat twenty-four of family, groomsmen, andbridesmaids down to an elegant meal topped off with Perrier-Jouet brut champagne, the reserve of themonarchs of Great Britain. Nunkie had, somehow, laid in a supply for the debut and had enough left over.One other thing about Laurel Court means much to me: I hold an unregistered, legally meaninglesslien on a small bit of it. Here’s how: I was eight, and was caught by one of the gardeners climbing on oneof the marble statues. He took me before Mr. Corbett, chief gardener, who led me to my grandfather...atthe Riesener desk. Have you climbed the buckeye tree next to the south driveway? he asked, fixing mewith stern eyes. No, grand-dad, never! I wavered. Well, go try! I did, and got fairly close to the top, Mr.Corbett watching. We went back into the house. Grandfather was writing at the desk, then turned to mewith the paper. It was on is letterhead and said in beautifully perfect Spencerian ‘hand’: I, Peter GibsonThomson, being in sound mind and health, do hereby give and bequeath the large buckeye tree beside thesouth driveway of Laurel Court to my grandson, Chilton Thomson, to have and to climb at his will!/signed/ Peter G. Thomson. There, boy, he smiled, climb it and stay off the statuary, please?Years and years later, after Nunkie died in 1947, the Big House stood vacant again, finally to be soldto the Roman Catholic archdiocese of Cincinnati for the residence of the newly declared archbishop. Iwrote to him, offering my welcome and telling him about my ‘lien.’ His lovely reply acknowledged myright to make use of it and added: And, Mr. Thomson, when you come to climb your tree, you may besure that I’ll be right along side you: then, we’ll go back to the Big House and have a cup of tea!I never met this lively, witty man. I have never been back to Laurel Court. I am not sure that I wouldnot hear the echoes of Past Presences which would haunt me even more than they now do.210