A Little piece of Paradise… College Hill, Ohio - SELFCRAFT
A Little piece of Paradise… College Hill, Ohio - SELFCRAFT
A Little piece of Paradise… College Hill, Ohio - SELFCRAFT
- No tags were found...
Transform your PDFs into Flipbooks and boost your revenue!
Leverage SEO-optimized Flipbooks, powerful backlinks, and multimedia content to professionally showcase your products and significantly increase your reach.
Chapter 40 Memories <strong>of</strong> old <strong>College</strong> <strong>Hill</strong>By Mrs. Ruth J. WellsMy earliest recollections go back to about 1911. My father, George E. Jones, had the house in whichI still live built in 1910. It is a six room bungalow all on one floor. We had gas lights and a coal furnace.My first memory is that <strong>of</strong> looking out <strong>of</strong> the dining room window in the early evening and watching thelamplighter put his little ladder against the light post and climb up to light the street lamp across from ourhouse. From that same window in the winter I would watch for the man and his horse and plow to clearthe sidewalks <strong>of</strong> snow. (Cincinnati didn’t live up to its annexation agreement to continue this which wasspecified in the annexation papers.) I still have the lighter that we used to light the gas lamps in ourhouse- a rod with a slender tube on the side to hold the wick. It had a sort <strong>of</strong> key on the top with which toturn on the gas, then the flame on the wick would be used to light the lamps. Mother used to let me do itwhile she watched me. Then I would go into the parlor and stand at the window e to watch for my fatherto walk down the street from the street car.We always ate in the dining room and I still think <strong>of</strong> the delicious old fashioned dishes my motherused to make, which aren’t to be found today. I can remember walking with my mother and father up toHamilton Avenue Newbold Pierson’s log cabin <strong>of</strong>fice just north <strong>of</strong> Ambrose on Hamilton, when Dadmade the final payment on the house. The cabin was moved later on and today stands on Cedar Avenue,the second house east <strong>of</strong> Saranac on the north side <strong>of</strong> the street, now covered with siding.I couldn’t speak plainly in 1911 and would stand at the dining room window and look across thestreet to the Eicher’s house which I called the ‘moopy’ house because they had their own band, but Icouldn’t say music house. It must have been about that time that the little frame fire house was built onthe southwest corner <strong>of</strong> Cedar and Salvia. Each <strong>of</strong> two horses 20 had its own stall in the back corner <strong>of</strong> thebuilding. I loved horses so I tried to go over there when I could. The firemen called me ‘Whitey’ becausemy hair was so blonde. In the summer they would tie the horses out under the big tree west <strong>of</strong> the firehouse. There was a big sink hole next to the tree.The grocery boy used to come down every morning to get our order and then deliver it in theafternoon. One day he asked me what I wanted and I said a ‘hinnemon’ cake-he handed me the pad andtold me to write it, so I drew a circle for the round cake I wanted.In 1911 my father got his first auto-a used, red Pope Hartford, with acetylene lamps on the frontfenders and rods holding the top to the fenders-and red leather seats! It also had to be cranked. There wereonly three cars in <strong>College</strong> <strong>Hill</strong> at that time-Peter G. Thomson’s, my father’s and one other. We had agasoline tank in the back yard enclosed in a wooden box sort <strong>of</strong> thing. A garage and graveled drivewaywere built. From then on we always drove out to the countryside on Sundays.I can remember driving out Colerain Pike after the waters from the 1913 flood had subsided to seethe destruction it had wrought. When we crossed the old Venice bridge we found the road had beenwashed out, leaving a crater about twenty feet deep where the road had been. A temporary road had beenbuilt going some distance down river and swinging around to return to the old road near Venice. I think atthat time that Dad had bought his first Model-T Ford.In those early years I did not get too far away from home. Across the street from us was the littleframe church-St. Clare. On that side at the corner <strong>of</strong> Saranac and Cedar was the one story frame-stillthere- where the Meyers lived. Their daughter and family-the Beckers-lived on the north side <strong>of</strong> Marlowethree doors west <strong>of</strong> the path that led from Salvia over to Ambrose. I knew Alice and Dorothy Becker. Thehouse just west <strong>of</strong> ours, owned by Mr. William P. Biddle, who owned the hotel at Hamilton and NorthBend-here lived the Westh<strong>of</strong>fs-I called Gertrude, who was five years older that I was-my big sister. Shewas a cousin <strong>of</strong> the Becker girls. Mr. Westh<strong>of</strong>f worked in a jewelry store and one Christmas gave me alovely little gold ring with one tiny sapphire set in it. Directly across the street was the brick house in20Richard J. Harrell also remembered these horses, mentioning that they were dapple grey.226