Jessie was my Mother, we lost her too soon. Life can be so busy, being a youth and being busy all the time, being in school and being busy all the time, then college, the Navy, married, and looking back, I really never had "quality time" with my Mom, I regret that.
My Mom bailed me out many a time. Dad would lay down the law, and Mom had her ways to circumvent those laws. I guess I never really took his threats seriously, I knew Mom would intervene on my behalf.
She loved to have a good time with family and friends, she was a most gracious hostess, and she never met a stranger. Her happiest memories were when the whole family was at the dinner table, eating one of her home lovingly cooked meals.
I remember on one occasion, a friend of theirs from Columbus, Ohio drove over for a visit. With him, was Fred Taylor, the Ohio State basketball coach. Before they left, they had spent three hours talking, and Fred and Doctor Rose devoured most of a freshly baked apple pie she had made.
She was also a PK, a "preachers kid." Her Father was a minister in the old United Brethren Church and later became a Bishop. Mom and her sister Eva, and Brother Ora, had many stories and memories of their early days.
Old Doctor Ed Werner, our neighbor, determined that Mom had high blood pressure. This was some sixty years ago. One recommendation, a shot of bourbon once a day. Mom had never tasted liquor. We had to disguise it in a large glass of juice to get her to take it. She only did it for a few days. I am not sure how we disposed of the bottle, she didn't want it thrown in the trash for anyone to see, I think we buried it out in the backyard.
She used a "cuss word" one time, that I know of. When Dad retired from practice, he went to work for Blue Shield, had an assistant, car and all. He used to travel around the state, attending local Medical Association Meetings, "imploring" Doctors to NOT abuse health insurance. Mom used to ride with Dad on his trips. On one occasions, his assistant Nelson accompanied them and did the driving. During the drive, my Mom commented, "I've noticed there are not as many "bastards" on the road when Nelson drives." A rare outburst from my Mother.
She is buried next to my Father at the old Wilkins Corners Cemetery, a spot she has occupied since they married, many years ago, next to his side. I truly wish I had gotten to know her better. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.
Showing posts with label jessie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jessie. Show all posts
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
The story of Jim and Jessie
A few years back we had a restaurant in the Arcade in Downtown Newark. I started sending out a FAX each night in a newsletter format. I had always sensed "something" strange happening in the Arcade. Below is the first installment of a series of stores I called, "The Story of Jim and Jessie. Much is from my imagination, much many of the incidents actually happened. I think that Jim's spirit still lives there ......
The Beginning
I am learning more about the ghost in the basement of the Arcade that surrounds the whole complex.
Jim Harmon worked in the furnace room in the basement, was a hard working, God fearing man, who attended church regularly at the United Brethren Church on East Main Street. He lived on Hudson Avenue, and walked the few blocks to work each day. Many days, his wife Jessie would walk with him to work, and she would walk him to the Home-style Diner on 4th Street, and they would part on that corner ... he would head on to the Arcade, and Jessie would return home. She would always turn and see him enter the 4th Street Entrance. Jim would enter the Arcade, and go down in to the basement where the huge power plant and furnace were located. He kept every piece of machinery and equipment in "his" "engine room" as he called it, cleaned and polished. He worked and fussed over all of the equipment, the stokers, the coal bins, the burners, the diffusers, as if they were his own.
Jim had grown up around Mary Ann Furnace, and had attended a small one room school house on Montgomery Road. His family later moved to Brownsville, and he attended and graduated from school there. Shortly after graduation his father was offered a job at the Weyant Greenhouse, "out East" as it was referred to in those days, to work in the Power Plant there. They moved out on East Main, and his father would take the inter-urban each day to Marne.
THE REST OF THE STORY
The Beginning
Jim Harmon worked in the furnace room in the basement, was a hard working, God fearing man, who attended church regularly at the United Brethren Church on East Main Street. He lived on Hudson Avenue, and walked the few blocks to work each day. Many days, his wife Jessie would walk with him to work, and she would walk him to the Home-style Diner on 4th Street, and they would part on that corner ... he would head on to the Arcade, and Jessie would return home. She would always turn and see him enter the 4th Street Entrance. Jim would enter the Arcade, and go down in to the basement where the huge power plant and furnace were located. He kept every piece of machinery and equipment in "his" "engine room" as he called it, cleaned and polished. He worked and fussed over all of the equipment, the stokers, the coal bins, the burners, the diffusers, as if they were his own.
Jim had grown up around Mary Ann Furnace, and had attended a small one room school house on Montgomery Road. His family later moved to Brownsville, and he attended and graduated from school there. Shortly after graduation his father was offered a job at the Weyant Greenhouse, "out East" as it was referred to in those days, to work in the Power Plant there. They moved out on East Main, and his father would take the inter-urban each day to Marne.
THE REST OF THE STORY
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)