Child of the Fort

The Best Birthday Ever

2010-10-12T07:04:00.006-04:00

Birthday Party - Seven Years Old
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

As a parent, you always hope that your child is filled with great memories of their childhood. I'm sure that my mom, who became a parent at the ripe old age of 17 years and 3 months, had that in mind when she threw me a birthday party in our dinky, 800 square foot home on Cedar Crest Circle.

To the right is the only picture I have of that day. My three best friends from first grade were there (counter clockwise) Ericka Couch, Lisa Smith, and Beth Fruechtenicht. There's a board game sitting in front of us...but I couldn't tell you what it was and without this picture, I wouldn't even have remembered that I had The Flintstones for birthday hats and blowers. I couldn't tell you what was on my cake - if I had one number candle or seven.

What I do remember - as though it was yesterday - is that I was a very happy girl. I don't know if you can see that from my face, but gosh, I was happy.

And why was I happy? Two specific reasons - the guests and the best birthday present that I've ever received in my entire life.

The guests were my three best friends from Indian Village Elementary school and also, members of my family (aunts, uncles, cousins + my mom's cousins and their kids). All of us, squeezed together in that small amount of space sounds claustrophobic, doesn't it?! At the time, it didn't seem anything but fun. I'm sure that my mom, though, was frantic and worried because later on (much later on as an adult), she told me that she ran out of cake and food because so many people showed up that she wasn't expecting.

I probably received a fair number of birthday gifts that year but you know what - that's a blur to me. The only gift that really mattered is what my parents got me.

For the big event, I was shuttled out on to the front porch area (this area wasn't a "porch" per se as much as it was an enclosed part of our house - like a mudroom - with no heat). I was instructed to face the outdoor window and no peeking!!! That window had a view to my neighbors houses across the street - the Wooden's and the Boice's.

I remember the crowd of people who were all standing behind me, waiting for the revelation of the big moment. And then my mom said, You can turn around now.

My smile was the biggest smile you can ever imagine and I squealed with delight. It was everything I ever wanted - a big girl bike. It was a lime green bike...equipped with a white flowered basket, multi-colored plastic streamers hanging out of the handle bars, and a banana seat.

That bike stayed with me for most of my childhood. If it would have had an odometer on it, it would have had thousands of miles racked up on it because as a kid living on Cedar Crest Circle - that's what we did. We rode our bikes. We didn't have to have a destination...we just rode them. Sometimes we rode them by ourselves (in a circle - Cedar Crest, Pinecrest, Cedar Crest) and sometimes we rode in a pack....taking the same route, perhaps stopping at Scott''s Court to play a game of kickball, or sneaking off to play in the forbidden ditch (catching tadpoles), or making our way up Sandhill to play in the area that would later take the life of our friend Delores.

There was a third reason why this was the best birthday ever. It was the last birthday I remember where I wasn't conscious of my father's drinking issues. At my party, I didn't remember that he wasn't there until just before the unveiling of my bike. I didn't remember that he was drunk off his ass and he brought people to my party that I didn't even know.

And why didn't I remember these things? Because my mom made sure that I was distracted so as not to notice. She wanted my birthday to be the kind of birthday that all little girls deserve to have....one filled with lots of happy memories. It worked.

Mommy, it was the best birthday ever and as long as I live, I will never forget how special I felt that day.

Save the Date

2010-03-04T14:10:00.005-05:00

Wanted to share this since I have received such overwhelming support from all of you.

Dear Kristina,

Msgr. Schulte has asked me to respond to your request to receive adult Confirmation here at the Cathedral. He feel that he can grant your request. Bishop Rhoades will be celebrating Confirmation for the adults on May 23, 2010 at 11:30 a.m.. In order for you to do this, you would need to attend the preparation class for that here at the Cathedral on Sunday, April 25, 2010, at 2:00 p.m. in the Parish Center Library. Please let me know if you are attending, and I will add you to our class roster. May the Lord bless and keep you always.

Sr. Marilyn Ellert, OSF

Pastoral Associate

It may seem like such a small gesture on the part of the leadership of Cathedral however, this is the best gift ever and I will never, ever forget the kindness that has been extended to me.

Coming Full Circle

2010-03-01T05:35:00.005-05:00

When I started Child of the Fort - a couple of years ago - I couldn't tell you exactly what prompted me to do it. Maybe it was a combination of things - the Christmas holidays, being off of work on vacation, my longing for my hometown...I didn't know why...I just felt the need to write. And when I thought about a name for the blog, this is the first one that came to mind. I was literally - a child of my hometown and I'd hoped - an example of the good that Fort Wayne had to offer (from my particular generation).

I've written about people, places, and things. It's amazing that my memories of my childhood are as crisp and clear as they are given the fact that sometimes, I can't even remember what I did three years ago!

SO - why is there a picture of my grandfather's obituary at the top of this posting? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Today is the anniversary of his death. If you were to read over the past couple of anniversary posts about him, you'd see that his absence has left this gaping hole in my heart. This year though, I'm feeling a little differently. While I still miss him, instead of sitting here and sobbing for hours about him (on this anniversary), I am holding myself together quite well.

It's not that I don't miss him (duh - of course I do!). Something for me is different this year.

Earlier this year, I wrote about how angry I had been at God - because of my grandpa's early departure from this earth. I had held on to that anger for over twenty years. Something happened in late 2009 - and miraculously - that anger is gone. I can't explain it. Well, maybe I can't articulate it.

So this anniversary of Grandpa's departure - I actually have a gift for him and so if you'll humor me for a moment....

Dear Grandpa,

I have a really awesome surprise for you. First, your last words to me - they have never left me and despite my rebellion and anger - they finally sunk in. But hey, you know that I'm a stubborn girl and that sooner or (much) later, I'd listen to you.

Second, I have renewed my relationship with God and the weird thing is - it feels right and it feels natural.

Third, I joined a church here in the Indy area (and that wasn't easy - had to visit quite a few to find the one that felt like that glove fit). But that's not your gift. Your gift is this. I have committed myself to finally going through with the Sacrament of Confirmation. You know I should have done this years ago, but one thing (parents divorce and our many moves) after another (my anger) kept me from recommitting myself.

I've done all of the research, talked to folks, and I will go through with my Confirmation this year. I have my fingers and toes crossed that I will be allowed to go through this process at Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. I wrote to Msgr. Robert Schulte and explained the importance of my recommitment taking place there and why it would be like coming full circle for me. I know that wherever it takes place, YOU will be there with me - just as you were there for my Baptism (as my godfather).

I love you with all of my heart and soul. Thank you for...everything...you know I couldn't possibly even begin to write down what I mean by that! xoxoxo
_____________________

So really, I think I understand now why I started Child of the Fort. Yes, it was (and is) about sharing my memories of growing up in a city that had more character than most will ever have. Yes, it was (and is) about reliving some of the most significant times of my childhood (and that includes the people, places, and things). But really, I think it was about coming to terms with the sadness and anger I felt about the loss of my grandpa. You see - just like Fort Wayne - he is my childhood.

Like Fort Wayne, he was always there and offering up fun, food, and tidbits of information that I soaked in - but didn't always realize the significance of - until many years later. He is gone. The Fort Wayne I grew up with doesn't exist in the same way either. And while both realizations are hard to accept - they are what they are - and I can either be angry or I can feel warm and fuzzy and thankful because really, how many people can look back at their childhood as fondly as I can? While I hope lots can, I know that I am lucky lucky lucky.

So today's post - I guess you can call this a growth moment for me, eh? :)

Ice Skating at Reservoir Park

2010-02-26T00:01:00.000-05:00

Photo Credit: IPFW ContentDM

I looked far and wide for a picture of the Reservoir Park Ice Skating Pond - the one that *I knew* and experienced however, I didn't have any pictures in my own collection and a web search yielded very few results.

I picked this picture (yes, even though it is from almost 100 years ago) because it comes close to how I remember the place that my mother used to take me and my sister skating to. I remember the "big hill" (which is what I called it), the crowds of people (young and not so young), and the odd shape of the ice pond. I even had my own pair of ice skates! No rentals for me!

I've never talked to my mom about Reservoir Park - if she went there often as a child - but I got the distinct feeling that she had been there a lot. She was very comfortable with where everything was and when we first stepped out on the ice (one hand each in her hands), I felt like I was with a pro.

She glided across the pond with ease. Me - not so much. I fell. Lots of times. She would tell me - Kris, you need to bend your knees a little bit. Don't stand so stiff. It's advice my husband STILL repeats today and advice that my body still ignores (thus the number of times I still manage to land on my butt - not while ice skating but while navigating the ice outdoors). By the way - my sister Patty was a pro also. She's always been WAY more coordinated than me. Ice skating, gymnastics, cheerleading. Yep. She inherited my mom's coordination gene.

When I think about Reservoir Park and ice skating with my mom and sister, I am reminded of something that I purposely ignored in my teen years (and later in my adult life).

My mom - who had me when she was seventeen - no high school diploma - second child within 11 months of me - married to a man who didn't have a high school diploma and many times - not even employed - worked at KMart and at other places...well...she really did a lot for me and my sister. She made sure that we experienced Fort Wayne - probably - in all of the ways that she had. But of course she was working with a budget of practically ZERO.

And for that, I am grateful. Even if I forget to tell her :).

The Death of a Timeless Man

2010-02-25T14:04:00.005-05:00

When I was alerted by my husband that Monsignor Lester had died, I felt a terrible sadness in my heart.

Monsignor Lester was this pillar of the Catholic community and not only did lots of people know him but his presence and influence was felt over several generations - in fact - four generations of my family.

Several of my family members received the sacraments of baptism, reconciliation, eucharist, and confirmation. There were home visits, hospital visits, last rites, and funeral services.

My mom and aunts went to Central Catholic High School and they, along with my grandpa and great-grandma were faithful congregation members at churches where he presided.

My husband and I were married by him - June 2, 1990 - in Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

The weird thing is - I wasn't "close" to him like I was to the priests that were in service at St. Therese (Father Rock, Father Frank).

I think because he was "old school", I held him at arm's length because I knew how much my grandpa (and others) respected him and I never, ever wanted to offend him. With Father Rock, I would crack jokes or poke fun at something and we would both have great belly laughs over it. With Monsignor Lester, I was serious and on my best behavior.

I knew Monsignor Lester had retired from his duties at Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. I knew that he was certainly up there in age. But I guess what I wasn't prepared for, was the death of this man who I thought of as timeless.

And because I had recently renewed my relationship with God and the Catholic Church, I always thought that I'd run into him again. And like always, he'd remember the face, but struggle with my name :).

But unfortunately, it is not to be.

God bless and keep you Monsignor Lester. I know that you are in a better place and that your life here in Fort Wayne was adored, admired, and appreciated by multiple generations of families. You touched many of our lives in ways that cannot be fully articulated. You will not be forgotten.

Key III Candies

2010-01-18T00:01:00.003-05:00

Key III Candies
4211 Earth Drive
Fort Wayne, IN
46809-1513
260-747-7514

Photo Credit: Me! Taken in May 2008

My family and candy have deep, deep ties! Not only do we love candy, but some family members have even worked for candy companies.

My mom and my Aunt Carolyn both worked at Wayne Candies. I don't remember that period of time but what I do remember is when my mother went to work at a NEW candy place called Key III.

Key III Candies was a solid bike ride from my house. It was on Earth Drive which was right off of Sand Hill Drive.

Key III existed in this warehouse structure and their main purpose was to make awesome candy!

I asked my mother how she came to work there and she told me that folks from Wayne Candies had left the company to start up Key III. They asked her to come work there and she did. My mom had all sorts of jobs within the candy factory but her most favorite was "quality control". I have to laugh because my mom, who was rail thin, loved her some candy and she could eat lots of it and you'd never know that this is how she passed the time of day ;).

There were two sets of memories that I have of Key III Candies.

First, my mom got to bring home the "rejects". Oh my gosh - when you grow up poor - "rejected" candy is like heaven on earth. She used to bring home boxes of chocolate covered pretzels and chocolate covered peppermint patties - oh - and the chocolate covered carmel nut thingies were THE BEST!!! When the company started experimenting with the white chocolate - well - those were the boxes I tended to leave alone ;).

My second memory was when we had the opportunity to take tours of the facility. I remember the big mixer machines and the conveyor belts where the chocolate was gracefully set up to coat those luscious buttons of carmel nut clusters. Everyone seemed to be wearing white from head to toe.

I haven't been inside Key III Candies in over 30 years (wow!) but my gosh, if I just close my eyes and concentrate real hard, I can still remember those awesome, chocolate smells.

My Cathedral

2009-12-31T00:01:00.002-05:00

Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception

1122 South Clinton Street
Fort Wayne, IN 46802-3130

Photo Credit: KFH (May 2008)

God and church have always been a factor in my family's life. My great-grandmother...Helena Starost Roy Kline...was a Catholic girl, through in through. She raised her three sons - Wayne (my grandfather), Walter Jr., and Kenneth as good Catholic boys. When Wayne and Walter Jr. grew up and married (Kenneth died as a boy), their children also continued the Catholic traditions.

The downtown churches - Cathedral, St. Mary's, and St. Patrick's were the three churches that generations of my family belonged to. I can find old newspaper clippings of marriages, funerals, first communions, baptisms, and school attendance.

Although much of my childhood revolved around St. Therese, most of my life's major events have taken place in Cathedral.

Photo: 1967 (from left) Wayne Roy, Kristina Frazier, Helena Starost Roy Kline, Patricia Frazier.

I was baptized there, I was married there, and my grandfather's funeral was held there. When I was a young adult, I sang in choir and attended mass there. I wasn't an every week person but I certainly considered myself a Catholic girl.

When I left Fort Wayne, all association with my Catholic church (in general) ceased. Part of that was my uncomfortableness with living in the Indianapolis area (it's still too big for me and doesn't have that small city/big town feeling that Fort Wayne always gave me). The other reason I didn't attend church was that I was pretty angry at God for taking away my grandfather. Even though I had expressed this opinion to Grandpa (while he was close to death even), he was very steadfast in his belief of God and was even perturbed at me for ever mentioning (me) "not believing in God anymore".

For 22 years, I have carried that pain with me - my grandfather's hastened and unfair death, my anger at God, and some of my grandfather's last words to me.

2009 has been a horrible year. You see I haven't posted much this year on my blog and I can tell you that much of that has to do with the heartbreak, heartache, and misfortune I have experienced this year.

Recently though, that anger that I've been holding on to for 22 years has dissipated. I can't tell you what happened exactly - it wasn't just one thing...it was a series of events and signs that made me realize that it was time to let go.

I still miss my grandfather but I know that I was one of the luckiest chicks on earth - to have had a man in my life who taught me so many life lessons and who loved me unconditionally...what more could anyone want? I no longer deny my belief in God and suddenly, I have a yearning to be close to my Cathedral again.

When I think about my Cathedral, I feel a sense of peace, a sense of awe, and I feel close to the things that have always been important to me (but you know, time/space sometimes makes you forget what those are). If I lived in Fort Wayne, I'd be right back there - singing in choir, attending mass (mostly) weekly but unfortunately, I don't live there anymore and now, I have to find somewhere else to continue the Catholic girl traditions.

Fort Wayne Box Company

2009-12-30T00:01:00.000-05:00

My Grandpa was the kind of guy who worked multiple jobs. He was a responsible man and did whatever he could to support his family.

One of the jobs he had was working for the Fort Wayne Box Company. In fact, it's the place where my grandparents first met each other.

I absolutely adore this invoice - mostly because it has a drawing of the actual building in the left hand corner.

I thought the detailing of the building was magnificent and I said to myself - ain't no way...given Fort Wayne's history of tearing down things that exist in the downtown area - ain't no way - this building still exists.

But guess what? I was wrong.

From Google Earth Maps

This is the Downtown that I Remember (Kinda)

2009-12-29T00:01:00.001-05:00

I'm going to go see my Grandma this week and whenever I think of Grandma, I think of our frequent trips to the downtown area (in the 70's). I don't have a picture of G.C. Murphy's from that exact time period, but this postcard comes pretty close to what I remember things looking like when I was a youngster.

Mention G.C. Murphy's to any child of the fort and the first thing they'll probably bring up is the donuts (machine now in place at Cindy's Diner). Yes, of course, those comments would roll off of my lips, but the first thing that always pops into my head is...the basement area.

I know, you think I'm crazy...the basement area? When you went in doors, you'd go down a couple set of stairs. It was like 10 steps and then room to rest ;). And then another 10 steps - something like that ;).

Anyway - what was in the basement? Clearance, my friends...clearance! Murphy's had these shallow bins with things marked down ridiculously. It always always always smelled like the rubber from the bottom of our tennis shoes in that place. The ceilings were low and the place was badly lit. Still, my grandma could sniff out a great deal and I was sure to leave with something new!

Another neat thing about Murphy's is that the PTC buses had their main hubs there. We might take the bus downtown, shop at Murphy's while waiting for our transfer out to say - Southtown or Park West (had to hit up Mr. Wiggs some days). And heck, if we missed our transfer - just more time to hang out in Murphy's! Plenty to do, see, and certainly eat.

When Murphy's - well the building - was demolished or redone or whatever - I was no longer living in Fort Wayne. Now, when I'm in the fort and I'm walking in this area, I don't even recognize much. Almost all of the "landmark" type of buildings or businesses no longer exist or have been changed to a point where they are unrecognizable. Sometimes I think, Fort Wayne might have been better off building that 465 type of a loop through Downtown (this was like back in the 40's? 50's?).

But back to Murphy's. There will never, ever be another place like it again. And I'm thankful that my grandparents immersed me in the experience of it.

P.S. If you want to see even MORE detail of the postcard, click on the picture and it will take you to my Flickr account. At the top, you'll see an option to see ALL SIZES. The details are pretty amazing!

Fifth Grade and the Overthrow of Miss Majewski

2009-12-28T17:06:00.004-05:00

I know it's been awhile since I wrote about St. Therese, but now that I'm literally having dreams about it - and specifically- the fifth grade - I thought it was time to revisit the school in my blog.

Remember - I went to Indian Village Elementary School until the second semester of fourth grade. At that time, my mother switched my sister and I over to St. Therese and my first experience with parochial school was with Mr. Wunderlin.

One thing to mention to you is that I never felt like I fit in at St. Therese (although this was a pretty universal feeling for me at ALL of the schools I attended). A couple of kids used to make fun of me for the hand me downs I wore (my winter coats always came from Goodwill/Salvation Army) and except for being tall, thin, and one of the smartest kids, I pretty much did my best to blend in to the background.

Fifth grade should have been a lot like fourth grade, right? Same building, same kids, just moving one room over, with a different teacher.

Boy - we were wrong about that!

Our teacher in fifth grade was Miss Majewski (and apologies if I have misspelled her last name). She was new. She wasn't the one that was there the year previously. Miss M - allegedly - used to be a nun before becoming our teacher. I only had heard this as a rumor and still...to this day...don't know if it was true or not.

Miss M's style of teaching was very different. We would spend a great deal of time, during the school day...meditating. Seriously. Like everyday, we would have the lights shut off in the room and the door closed and she would instruct us to close our eyes. We could even move to the floor or sit in a corner if we wanted to. It was very odd.

One day, my mother asked me what kinds of things I was learning in fifth grade. I couldn't think of anything remarkable to tell her - nothing exciting and new. For me, it seemed like a rehash of the past four years. I did tell her that I was learning how to meditate and her ears perked up real fast.

When I told her what I meant by meditating and how often we did it, she was speechless. I wasn't sure if there was something wrong with meditating (was it against the Catholic religion??) but soon enough, she told me that she wasn't spending money to have me sit in a classroom every day with the lights out.

I wasn't sure what would happen next and frankly, I had other things to worry about (they were repaving our street and I wanted to make sure that I could sneak out and leave my handprint somewhere for all of eternity).

Over the course of the next few weeks, my mother was meeting with the parents of some of my other classmates - Shannon Juza's mom, Alice Jordan's mom, Tiena Spears's mom, Gregg Jehl's mom...and pretty soon, there was this small mob of them, knocking down the principal's door. They were pretty ticked off that their kids were "meditating" instead of learning.

It's not like the adults tuned me into what was going on but I assume that Miss M was put on some sort of probation. And then one day - POOF - she was gone.

It's not like I wished her any ill will - she was nice enough - just seemed not interested in teaching the class.

For a short span of time, my mom bonding together with those other parents...well...it made me not feel like such an outsider in their world. I was very proud of my mom for taking action and I had the opportunity to get to know two of my classmates (Tiena and Shannon) lots better.

My Love for World History - It All Started With Peter Jennings

2009-12-07T18:46:00.006-05:00

If it's not obvious, let me just state it right now. I absolutely love history...not in a memorizing facts and details type of way but in a wow - so much of our past is an insight into where we are today and where we are headed to in the future.

I love understanding where we've been, how we got here, the psychology and sociology of how everything came to be. And this love and adoration of world history - well - I can trace it back to my evenings, watching Peter Jennings.

When I was eleven years old, Peter Jennings, along with Frank Reynolds and Max Robinson, anchored ABC World News Tonight. I wasn't much of a television news girl - I preferred reading the News Sentinel - however, the format with the three anchors appealed to me.

I was particularly drawn to the anchor who was located in a foreign country - Peter Jennings. First, his accent was intriguing. Remember, I didn't get out much so I had no idea that he was from Canada! Second, the manner and tone in which he spoke to the viewer really captured my attention. Peter had this sense of wonderment, sense of purpose that appealed to me. I never thought he was 'attractive' (I wouldn't call him ugly though). He was just someone who really opened my mind to what was going on outside of the U.S.

After a particular news segment on Beirut or Isreal or some other place or people or culture that I didn't know anything about, I would jot down enough information so that the next time I was at the library, I would pull out one of those giant encyclopedia volumes and read up on what I didn't know.

After Frank Reynolds died in 1983, Peter Jennings took over the sole anchor responsibilities full-time and every single evening, I looked forward to the opening ding ding ding ding of the ABC World News Tonight jingle. It was a signal that Peter was about to teach me something new about what was going on in the world I lived in.

I was a faithful Peter Jennings viewer - always tuning into him (and skipping over CNN) for any of the important, breaking coverage. Yes, even after I could get all of my news over the internet.

When he passed away in 2005, I felt like I had lost the older brother or uncle that I never had. When he died, I knew that broadcast television news would never be the same and you know, it hasn't. I don't watch television news anymore because there's zero credibility in the reporting (not to mention the fact that everything seems to be 20 second soundbites).

Sadly, I think my generation was the last to grow up with credible television news anchors/reporters.

Beth...the Beginning

2009-12-02T10:07:00.002-05:00

Birthday Party - Seven Years Old
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

As I've stated previously, I don't have many photos from my childhood because most went up in flames when our house was struck by lightning (and subsequently, burnt to the ground). I mention this specifically, for this particular post, because it pains me not to have any other picture of me and Beth together. This is the one - one snapped at my seventh birthday party.

Pictured (from left): Me, Ericka Couch, Lisa Smith, Beth Fruechtenicht

But back to the beginning...

I don't remember the exact moment that I met Beth. This feels strange to me because my memory during this time is pretty vivid and detailed. Our first encounter though, had to be in Kindergarten - Miss Crouse's pm class at Indian Village Elementary School.

Beth was everything I was not - blond, perfectly proportioned, well-off, and she had the ideal parents. Her mom Sharon - I'm not sure what she did (I assumed she did something for a living) - was possibly, the nicest woman I have ever met in my entire life time. Her dad Tom - was a very important man. A state representative...involved in lots of local Fort Wayne important things...

And so having Beth as my friend should have seemed strange and out of place. But it wasn't. I can't explain it. She was like another world to me, but one that accepted and embraced me for who I was.

Beth and I did have lots of things in common.

First, we were competitive. Some of that had to do with physical co-location (we both had the same teachers K-4). But most of it had to do with me, wanting to be like Beth. She was smart, and every chance I got, I would go head to head with her in academic situations. That ranged from seeing who could get the higher grades on the spelling tests to seeing who could progress quicker through our reading books (i.e. Rainbows, Fiesta, Rewards, Panorama, Kaleidoscope, etc...)

Second, we were both Girl Scouts. We started out as Brownies and then we 'bridged' over to Juniors. Beth's mom, who was one of our leaders, was there the entire way - teaching us the Girl Scout Promise and helping us earn our badges (yes, I need an entire series - just on Girl Scouts!).

Third, we were both labeled as boy crazy. While I was a bit more forthcoming with who I had a crush on (Tom Stinson, Lewis Mastin), Beth was a bit more cautious about revealing who she liked since most of them seemed to live close to her.

Fourth, we were both fans (and active players of) tetherball, kickball, and four square. I could always count on her to play any of these at recess. Sometimes though (at recess), we would just hang together and talk about 'stuff'. Stuff could be - toys, dolls, boys, other girls, teachers, homework - basically nothing was off limits.

Beth and I were thicker than thieves for five years. In those five years - although I've said that we were very different from each other - we both ended up experiencing a lot of the same challenges (and heartbreaks).

Burger Chef on Bluffton Road

2009-11-28T13:26:00.002-05:00

Burger Chef 1970's
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

This isn't the picture of THAT Burger Chef but still, it looks remarkably like the one that we used to visit from time to time.

I loved the "fun meals" and the works bar was awesome. It was one of the earliest times in my life that I was allowed to make decisions for myself - i.e. what to put on my burger and what I could leave off. I was always a fan of tomatoes - lots of them. Not so much on the pickles or lettuce. Mustard was always left off but ketchup and mayo were two that were always found on the bun side that didn't face the cheese.

We only seemed to visit the Burger Chef at the Bluffton Road location - maybe because that's the one we lived closest to. I know that there were other ones located in the city - one on Coldwater Road and one on East State Street. Maybe there were other locations too...those are just the ones I remember.

If you're a fan of Burger Chef - you've got to check out this guy's website - http://burgerchef.webs.com/8memorbilliapics.htm

He has TONS of pictures and I had a blast looking through all of the old stuff.

The McMillen Globe

2009-10-09T00:01:00.001-04:00

Photo Credits: CONTENTdm Collection

I don't think that I can say this enough times. I absolutely loved my downtown library. It was big, had lots of books, cool fountains to throw pennies in, and most importantly, the GLOBE.

Whenever I would find whatever books I had planned on reading for the day, I would plant myself in one of the comfortable, cozy chairs, located right next to the GLOBE.

There was something magical about that darn GLOBE. People have told me that it wasn't geographically - 100% accurate - but I neither believed them nor cared. I could watch that thing turn and turn and even when it was off of its tracks/needed oiled (notably whenever you heard the click, click, click and saw it jerk a bit with every twist), I was mesmerized by its presence.

It almost looked - you know - paper mache'd although I know from looking at historical photos that it was not. I always thought to myself, one day, I'm going to go to this country or that country...and sometimes I would close my eyes and say that wherever they landed (on the GLOBE), is where I would take my very first out of country trip. Yes, I was a um...weird child ;).

When the downtown library was rebuilt here recently, my biggest fear was that the GLOBE would be gone. I did see it near the front entrance. It was roped off - just like it had been years ago - but in this case, it sort of sat to the side. Makes me a bit sad that many patrons probably walk by it without even giving it a glance.

I know from historical photos that the GLOBE was given to the library from Mr. McMillen. The plaque that sits at the base says, Given to library by the boys and girls of the Wild Cat Baseball League and the Girl Scout of the Limberlost Girl Scout Council.

But why a globe? What's the back story? Everyone I've asked doesn't seem to know. I'm dying of curiosity....

It Was A Tuesday, in November...1973

2009-10-08T18:49:00.005-04:00

I came home from school like I normally did - on the yellow bluebird school bus. My bus stop was at the corner of Pinecrest and South Cedar Crest Circle so I had to walk a little bit to my house. As I neared my house, I saw that there was an ambulance parked in front of the Boice's house. The Boice's lived exactly - right across the street from us at 4718 West Cedar Crest Circle.

During the summer time, my sister and I would play with Jackie. Jackie was nearer my sister's age (at least 1-2 years younger than me) however, her backyard was just way too awesome to let age get in the way ;). In her backyard, there were several fruit trees - apple, cherry - and some vines that grew up against this latticed fence panel. I was thinking that there were grapes and blackberries but perhaps I am mistaken. My sister Patty will probably remember though.

We would always pick the apples and cherries for Jackie's mom. In turn, she would make some of the best pies ever. She used to reward us for our hard work (summertime is hot for sure!) by meeting us at the screen door, in the back, with Popsicles by Good Humor. Orange, Grape, and Cherry for the three flavors and it mattered not which of the three I had. The most important factor was that I got to have one of these yummy treats!

Jackie's mom (her name - Joahn - pronounced like Joanne), was a very soft-spoken woman. For anyone with five children to be soft-spoken - wow - isn't that just a complete freak of nature!! That's right, Mrs. Boice and her husband Carl, had five children: John, Carl Jr., Kurt, Kathy, and Jackie.

We knew all of the kids. Kathy, who was about five years older than me - well - I worshipped her. I thought she was beautiful and kind and model-like. John still lived at home although he seemed to not be there much and Carl Jr. and Kurt came around enough...in fact, one of them lived in a house down the road.

My dad was friendly with Carl aka Mr. Boice. I'm not sure how their friendship started but I know that beer was involved.

My mom tells me that Joahn kept to herself. She didn't seem to have any friends but she was always friendly to everyone she came into contact with. I always thought it was odd that my mom and her weren't close friends given that we played with her daughter, we lived across the street, and my dad hung out with Carl. Now I understand why.

Although I remember Joahn being pretty, and I can see her standing at the back porch handing us Popsicles or giving us pies to take home to our family, I have absolutely no recollection of her face. I can see her body, I can see her hair, but the rest has been blurred in my memory. My sister and my mom tell me that daughter Kathy looked very much like her mom.

When I came into the house that Tuesday, in November 1973, my sister was already home (she only had half-day kindergarten) and my mom was in the kitchen.

I asked my mom why there was an ambulance in front of Jackie's house. Was somebody hurt? Her face was solemn and she tried to change the subject. But me, never to be derailed by wanting to know answers, asked her again. She said that it had been there since 1pm and that she knew that Jackie's mom had been hurt.

HURT?!?

I needed more information. My mother calmly sat me down and said that there had been an accident. Mrs. Boice was up in the attic cleaning while little Jackie took her afternoon nap. My mom said that she didn't have all of the details but she had been told that a gun had accidentally been discharged.

I ran back to our front entrance area and pulled the curtains open to see what I could see? Was Mrs. Boice alright? Where was Jackie? And Kathy? And Mr. Boice? My mom made me get away from the window (staring wasn't nice ya know!) and I spent the rest of the evening, fretting over the Boice's.

I know that my dad talked to Carl. I know that my mom and dad whispered a lot in the kitchen (without me or Patty) that night. Eventually, they did tell us that Mrs. Boice had died and I remember crying myself to sleep that night, with the pillow covering up my whimpers as much as possible. I had to be strong for my sister.

The funeral was held three days later - at D.O. McComb & Sons. Mrs. Boice was later buried at Covington Memorial Gardens. She was only 38 years old.

I've mentioned before that our neighborhood was close-knit but the odd thing about this situation is that absolutely NO ONE talked about it. It's like the entire situation never occurred. I was intuitive enough (yes, even at seven) to know not to ask Kathy or Jackie questions but it always weighed heavily on my mind. Why was there a gun in the attic and how could Mr. Boice have been so irresponsible as to have left it out where Mrs. Boice tripped (this was my theory) and accidentally shot herself?

Years later, my mom had told me that Mrs. Boice had purposely taken her life...using a rifle. She went up to the attic, we assume, so that Jackie would not be the one to find her.

Almost every time I feel the first Fall chill in the air and/or the first grey Fall skies of the year, I often think of Mrs. Boice. I wonder what made her climb the stairs of the attic, take that rifle, and end her young life in the most gruesome of manners. I wonder if she was depressed for a long time or if something recently had happened to make her feel such despair. I wonder if she even understood that she would be leaving her five, beautiful children...motherless.

A Guy and His Gun

2009-09-16T20:34:00.005-04:00

In January of 1986, I worked three jobs. Why? I was 19 and I was on a quest to make money and to keep myself as busy as possible. I always liked to be on the go and with three jobs - I certainly was!

One of the disadvantages of living on Third Street was that all parking occurred on the street. My used 1979 Red Honda Accord could amazingly fit into small spots and believe me, I took advantage of that as much as possible. If I happened to come home late, I usually had to park at least a block away. My grandparents (who I lived with), were never thrilled if my car was not within view. I think they just liked to keep an eye on me and my stuff :).

On one particular Winter night, the parking situation really sucked. Instead of getting to park on Third Street, I had to go down to Orchard and then, park at the very end of it - almost at the corner of Orchard and High Street.

The black splat is where I ended up parking.

As I was walking up the sidewalk, nearing the corner of Orchard and Third Street, the light of a street lamp bounced off of one car and made it stand out more than the others parked on the street.

I looked to the right and I saw a guy - about my age - sitting in the driver's seat, with a gun in his hand. He looked distressed. We made eye contact. I diverted my eyes - but in a way that showed no fear. Why? I couldn't tell you. I probably should have been afraid. But everything inside of me kept me composed and calm and I continued walking at an even pace towards our house.

I walked inside - it was after 10 p.m., but my grandpa was still awake. He had just retired a few weeks beforehand and he claimed that he couldn't get used to not being awake for second shift. Secretly, I think he worried about me being out "in the dark" and so staying up, watching television kept him entertained until I got home.

So anyway, I walked in and I told my grandpa that we needed to call 911. I explained to him what I had just seen and amazingly, I was still very calm about it. For many years, Grandpa worked as a Security Supervisor at St. Joe Hospital so before we picked up the phone to place the call, he asked me specific questions.

Where exactly was the car parked?
Was it running? Or off?
What did it look like?
What did he look like?
Did he see you?
Did he make any attempt to get out of his car?
What did his gun look like?
What position was the gun in?

Most of my answers weren't specific enough (like I knew it was a mid-size American car but I didn't know what model/make/year), and forget the gun stuff. I just knew that it was a small pistol - it didn't have a wooden handle (you know - like handguns did in the Westerns on television).

My grandpa was very patient and in the span of 2-3 minutes, he got a lot of information out of me. He placed the 911 phone call himself (giving the details I had provided) and within 15 minutes, a uniformed FWP guy was at our door.

My grandpa and him got on well. The policeman took my statement and he asked the same type of questions that my grandpa had (and then some).

At the end of this process, he told us that the guy was upset over a domestic situation and that he had planned on killing himself. I was kind of shocked - I guess I never really stopped to think what was wrong with him or why he had a gun (or what he was going to do with it).

The policeman explained that he and his partner had approached the car (and its driver) to ascertain the situation and that is what took him so long to get over to see us. The individual had a gun permit but they did not feel comfortable with letting him go. It didn't sound like he was arrested - more that someone (or someones) were spending some time, talking to him. He was definitely out of the immediate area and the police gave him strict instructions not to come back near this area.

I guess I should have been comforted by that last part but really, I don't ever remember being scared or frightened. Something in his eyes - that split second we made eye contact - told me that this wasn't a guy who was going to hurt me.

But you know, I got a lecture from both the policeman and my grandfather about walking alone, so late at night, blah blah blah.

As he was leaving, the policeman shook my grandfather's hand and then looked at me and said, "You probably saved his life tonight". I didn't know what to say to that. So I said nothing. He didn't appear as if he was looking for a response.

After he left, and my grandpa locked up for the night, we sat in the living room and watched some late night television (Channel 55!). Neither of us said much and about an hour later, we went to bed.

The next morning, my grandma was all frantic. She pulled out every possibility (I could have been raped, murdered, kidnapped) and I just shook my head at her. Usually, when she got this way, me and grandpa just let her rant. Eventually, she went a little over the top and my grandpa stepped in to cut her off.

"Irene. Our granddaughter did the right thing. I don't like that she was out walking in the dark but in the end, it all turned out alright for everyone, including the young man who might have been found this morning by someone else walking past his car."

That quieted her - real quick :).

Every once in awhile, whenever I had to park on Orchard, I always wondered what happened to the guy. All of these years later, I still can't look at that corner without thinking about that night. Although we only shared a couple of seconds of co-existence, I hoped that he had been able to move past the type of pain that led him to that night in his car with his gun.

The Interloper

2009-08-23T17:12:00.003-04:00

Neighborhood Kids
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

In our neighborhood - everyone - and I do mean EVERYONE - knew each other. It wasn't just a one neighbor radius either (meaning - you probably expected us to know the people who live to the right of us, to the left of us, across the street, and directly behind us). Oh no, this neighborhood I grew up in - everybody knew everybody. In some ways, knowledge equaled a sense of safety and security. We were a young neighborhood, but already, we were pretty set in our ways.

And then, there were these "rules" that almost every kid abided by (or tried to). Most of these weren't rules that were written down or given to us as instructions. They were rules (and boundaries) that we all sort of picked up as we experienced life in the neighborhood.

For example - there were some neighbors who were really grouchy about people crossing through their yards. In fact, over a one year period, Sears must have been licking their lips at the windfall they experienced by the number of chain-link fences installed in our neighborhood.

More examples - kickball games usually took place on Cedar Crest Circle; the bike "route" was Cedar Crest Circle - Pinecrest - back to Cedar Crest. Kyle Road was too dangerous for bike riding. Skateboarding happened on Pinecrest. Tree climbing was usually reserved for the big ole cherry tree on Scott's Court. If you had to use the (ahem) facilities and you were playing with the Beckstedt kids - too bad. You had to go somewhere else cause their momma never let you in.

One summer, while playing with Tricia Manter in her big ole backyard (we were doing our typical Barbie things), we heard a voice from the other side of the wood fence. I looked at Tricia, she looked up and then looked back down, getting back to the business at hand (putting together Barbie's swimming pool).

The voice called out again. Tricia just ignored him. Not me though. I wanted to know who it was. I went to the back of the yard and I saw a boy, up in a neighbor's tree. I didn't recognize him. "Who are you?" He answered, "Wouldn't you like to know?" Of course I did. He was an interloper in our neighborhood. He was climbing trees of neighbors I knew - clearly - he was not a "neighbor". Then I heard a voice. "Tom. Come down here. Lunch is ready." To which he answered, "Okay grandma."

Weird. I went back to playing Barbies with Tricia. We didn't even acknowledge the voice in the back. By this time, the pool was up and it was time for Barbie, Ken, and Skipper to bask in all of their tanning glory.

The Lobby of the Library

2009-08-22T04:26:00.002-04:00

Photo Credits: http://contentdm.acpl.lib.in.us/u?/coll6,4349

Walking into the lobby of the downtown library was like walking into grandma and grandpa's house. There was always a certain smell - one I couldn't put my finger on. Everything was the same - nothing out of place. In the Library's case, walking through those doors, you'd always see the pools in front of you, the check-out area to the left, the staircase further down and to the right, and my most favorite permanent part of the place - the McMillen Globe. It was on the right, past the staircase.

The "pools" were these two, built-in, concrete, mini fountains where we would often through our pennies. It's actually surprising to me that kids didn't jump in them (they were very shallow) and/or that water didn't splash out (ahem kids innocently dropping coins) and make the adjoining floor space wet (causing a slip from a patron).

The magazine area was to the right and it had an area where you could sit and read. Magazines were bound in a contraption - I think - it was a red hard back with a clear front. They sat on these (tries to come up with some term that makes sense) - shelf that was tilted a bit so that the magazine would slide off. You could lift up the shelf to find past issues of a particular magazine (at least a year's worth - I think).

All of the magazines I was ever interested in reading...well...they were always not where I could find them. The exception was if we arrived first thing in the morning, when the library opened. The staff always did a good job of putting everything back where you could find them but you know - those lazy patrons :P.

I loved this library. This is the library I grew up in. This is the library that allowed me to explore my literary interests - all for the cost of nothing. What a powerful entity libraries are. Especially our own ACPL.

Photo Credits: http://contentdm.acpl.lib.in.us/u?/coll6,4873

Three Rivers Festival Souvenir Program

2009-08-19T16:51:00.003-04:00

Three Rivers Festival Souvenir Program
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

I don't know why it takes me so long to write stuff on my blog. I have millions of stories to tell - maybe I'm just suffering from writer's block!

Anyway, I thought that a good way to clean out the cobwebs would be to upload the Souvenir Program from the 1970 Three Rivers Festival. It is the first one I have memories of attending.

My entire family - mom, grandparents, aunts - all loved this festival.

There were some events we always went to (i.e.the raft race, the parade, the fun rides, music on the landing/at Freimann Square, the FOOD, the children's zoo events, boat rides, bed race, flea market).

There were some events where I only remember them happening once - or - us attending them once (i.e. boat race, bicycle race, great train robbery).

When I was seven, I marched in my first TRF parade - as a PAL-ette (Police Athletic League baton twirler). The route was VERY different from the one today. I'm not sure when it changed but at one time, we marched on Broadway, past G.E. and the park.

Even after my parents split up and we moved out of the area, we still returned for the festival. As an adult (when I lived in Fort Wayne and worked at Lincoln Life), I became a little disenchanted with it. It seemed to go from a community-type event to an ADHD type of event. What I mean by that is that the focus seemed to be OUT of focus. Some of the core events were chucked. Many events were scattered around the city so it was difficult to plan your day. It used to be that we parked and walked (when I was a kid). As an adult, I still parked and walked, but I had to drive, park (pay), walk, drive, park (pay), walk - on and on...

It's been about five years since I attended my last TRF. Although the elephant ears are always calling to me, it hasn't been enough to get me back to town.

Maybe someday.

As an aside - all of the pages of the program are located on my flickr account. I think you'll be VERY surprised at what you come across. From the events to the advertisers - wow - this is some walk down memory lane!!!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kristinafh

Postcard of Public Library

2009-06-18T19:32:00.001-04:00

Postcard of Public Library, Fort Wayne, Indiana
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

Looking at all of Virgil Marquart’s photo’s (and in this case a postcard), I am often transported back in time to places that meant the world to me.

Case in point – the Allen County Public Library.

This particular shot was taken (I'm guessing?) sometime in the late 60's/early 70's. I’m sure it had to be either very early in the morning and/or sometime early on a Sunday. There’s not any cars sitting in traffic and if you look at the streets that run parallel and adjacent to the library, you won’t find the cars that typically decorated each side of the library.

As I said in a previous post, I spent a lot of time at this library because my mother went through a phase where she did a lot of research on our family tree.

My mother became pretty familiar with the traffic pattern of the patrons which was important because parking near the library was almost impossible.

You see, back in the 70’s, there were actually a lot of buildings located around the library – Webster Street, Berry Street, Wayne Street, Washington Avenue, Jefferson Avenue – all had numerous buildings.

There was parking around the perimeter of the library – meter parking. I was a frequent meter feeder – nickels and dimes and at one time – I’m thinking even pennies.

That was the preferred place to park because if we were there after the sun went down, my mom always felt safer if we didn’t have to walk very far.

Located down the street was a parking lot where you had to pay to park on nice, black pavement. We never, ever took our chances with parking illegally (either in one of these lots or in the lots of businesses) because the police were frequent ticketers of downtown parkers.

As you all know, the library underwent a complete overhaul and expansion. I did visit it last summer and even though I was impressed with its grandness and new technology gadgets, it felt a little stiff and formal. With time and more visits, I'm sure I'll get used to the changes.

In the meantime, I have my memories. I have my Virgil Marquart postcard.

June 2, 1990

2009-06-02T15:36:00.005-04:00

We were lucky (and thrilled) to be married in Fort Wayne - 19 years ago today.

Married at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception by Monsignor Lester. Reception at the Fort Wayne Chamber of Commerce.

Photography by Michael's. Cake by Richard's Bakery. Flower's made by a friend of the family - purchased locally. Additional flower's purchased at Moring's Flowers and Gifts. Catering from a local group (name escapes me).

My wedding dress and the bridesmaid dresses were purchased from some place downtown - name escapes me - will need to dig through my stuff to find that one out. Tuxes rented locally. Horse and carriage (later switched out to a limo because of lightening) provided by local company.

Can you tell? I loved relying on local businesses to help me with all of the details of my wedding. No chains - with the exception of the Tux people - were a part of my wedding.

I wonder if couples getting married now in Fort Wayne - still use local businesses for their happy day.

Oh - and happy 19 years to my loving husband.

The Allen County Public Library

2009-06-01T16:23:00.006-04:00

My Library Card

Look familiar?

I couldn't believe that I still had this. It was tucked away in a very old book that had stayed in my grandparents house when my mom moved us to Kentucky. Good thing too. This little piece of barely-stiff paper (otherwise known as an Allen County Public Library card) would have never survived a fire.

Looking at this card (yes - even if it is a "Dup.") brings back lots of memories for me.

Even though we lived in Waynedale - we spent a great deal of time downtown at "the" library. While my mom spent hours and hours in the basement (or wherever it was), researching our family tree, I would lose track of time, sitting in between the aisles and aisles of books and shelves. It was my own personal "think" ground. I'd go off in search of a book (maybe the latest Judy Blume?) and end up with that and then a dozen others that were completely unrelated.

Can you believe that fines were only 5 cents? Or that you could check out eight items at a time? Seems forever ago, doesn't it?

More to come on one of my favorite, childhood memories - the Allen County Public Library - tomorrow. Wanted to kick-start myself - get back here to writing on a more frequent basis. Don't worry - the memories didn't dry up...I just got a bit distracted with life...

The Southgate Plaza Shopping Center

2009-02-15T08:49:00.005-05:00

Postcard of Southgate Plaza Shopping Center, Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Photo by Madelyn Hendry.
Published by Marquart Photo Service, Fort Wayne, Indiana.

If you'd like to see a gigantic view of this picture, just click on it and it will take you to a much larger version on flickr.

There's no date associated to this postcard, but guessing by the cars pictured, it was sometime in the early 60's (although I am not a big car follower - I'm just wildly guessing here and I'll wait for one of you car buffs to correct me!).

I haven’t been to Southgate Shopping Plaza in years. By the time I was born, Penney’s had moved to Southtown Mall and of course, we never shopped at Kroger’s because the gigantic Scott’s shopping experience was on the other side of the road.

If and when we stopped in here, it was to visit the paint store (I think Ream Steckbeck Paint Co.). I also remember a shoe store too but we always walked by it without actually purchasing anything.

The Southgate Plaza, north of Pettit Avenue and east of Calhoun Street was opened April 18, 1955. It contained 40 store units at the outset on an area of 40 acres. Developed by the American Shopping Centers, Inc., it was the city’s first large center and provided parking for 2,500 cars. Major stores included Stillman’s, J.C. Penney, F.W. Woolworth, W.T. Grant, The People’s Trust Bank, Richman Brothers, Walgreen Drug Stores, and Kroger Supermarket.

Twentieth Century History of Fort Wayne, John Ankenbruck (1975) - Page 499

So I guess the parking was a big deal back then but for me - as a little kid - my biggest memory is how lost and disoriented I felt by the layout of the place. I was so used to shopping with my grandparents downtown or at Southtown Mall and this particular arrangement was confusing and to tell you the truth - lacked "eye candy".

Downtown, there was hustle and bustle and a connected sense of community. At Southtown Mall, once you stepped inside, it was like you were in another mini-city. Southgate was just a bunch of connected 'things' to me and an after thought to a Saturday shopping/outing.

Rejected

2009-02-13T15:15:00.002-05:00

Photo Credit:
Life Magazine, September 1967

Caption - "Lost child being traced in supermarket by store wide public address system."

So...when I last spoke to Mr. John Elliott (spokesman for Kroger), I had requested to take pictures of some special places within the store before it closed. He said that he was fine with my request and that I should contact the store manager to arrange a time that would be least disruptive to employees.

Although I've been very upset about the closing of the store, I have been looking forward to being allowed in to take photos of all of those hidden places (gems) that we employees were aware of that maybe shoppers either didn't know about or didn't have access to.

I took the day off of work today (vacation day) and placed a call to the Scott's Decatur Road Store manager this morning. After speaking with Dave, he said that he needed to run this by his management and that he would return my call.

About an hour later, John Elliott returned the call. It went to voice mail because I was on another line. He stated that my request was being turned down for two reasons.

First, because my presence would be a disruption to current employees. Second, it was his understanding that without prior authorization, I had already been inside the store taking pictures.

When I returned his phone call - it went to voice mail. I explained that I had followed his instructions to me - to the letter of the law - and that I hadn't been to Fort Wayne or Scott's Decatur Road and I had not taken any pictures. I do have pictures that were sent to me by readers of this blog however, they weren't necessarily the shots I was intending to take myself. I did not request for them to take pictures and frankly, I would have never posted them if I thought that this would invalidate the agreement.

It has been three hours, and I still have not heard back from him. I'm assuming my opportunity is lost and to say that I am upset - well - it's an understatement.

5:00 P.M. Update - John Elliott returned my phone call and said that the store's management was not comfortable with me because according to them, I had made an appearance at the store a few week's ago and while I was there, they confronted me.

It's just too bad it never happened. I haven't been to Fort Wayne since sometime in 2008.

Not sure why someone would feel the need to impersonate me and not sure why the store management is being a bunch of jerks.

Goodbye Scott's. It was nice knowing you.

Does Scott's at Decatur Road Have A Date With The Wrecking Ball?

2009-02-13T10:11:00.003-05:00

I've received two emails and one blog comment indicating that this is the case. I'm really hoping that it's bad information/just a prank...If anyone has any information - please let me know.

Update @ 5:15 p.m. Thanks to Stephen Parker from AroundFortWayne - he checked with the City of Fort Wayne's Public Information Officer, Rachel Blakeman

Stephen,

I just checked with Kroger. Following the store's closure, the exterior
Scott's signage will be removed, but the cornucopia itself will remain.
Kroger has made no decision at this time about the future of the sign.

Sorry, but no pipers, Mayor or pomp and circumstance.

el elefante es grande

2009-01-31T21:57:00.001-05:00

Selsa Couch was born and raised in Taos, New Mexico. She came from a rather large family - at least four brothers and three sisters that I can remember. I only saw the whole crew together once but at different times, her mother, Margaret Anaya, and some of her sisters or brothers, would visit the Couch family in Fort Wayne.

That entire Anaya family was an animated bunch. When with each other, they would speak their native language (Spanish) and their hands would be doin' almost as much work as their lips. Please do not think that I am making fun of them - I'm certainly not. If anything, it made me aware very early in life how powerful non-verbal queues were to communicating with someone else.

Selsa's family had very deep roots in a world that frankly, I knew nothing about. The language, the traditions, the foods - they were all new to me. I was a good sport though - I kept my mouth shut and tried to blend in as well as I could.

One of the things that was extremely important to Selsa was that both of her children had a solid understanding of their roots. The playing out of these expectations came in the form of a strict, Catholic-church upbringing, a rigorous educational curriculum, and hands-on experience with traditions that Selsa herself experienced as a child.

I've already written about our CCD Classes, Confession, and Communion.

Another area that she was insistent that Ericka learn was the Spanish language. When the Couch's moved to Hadley Road, we jumped full-force into learning how to speak Spanish. Me and Ericka would sit in the nook area (between the kitchen and the family room), with our books (which Selsa purchased for us), and we would review our Spanish lessons with her.

This was independent from our school stuff - this was afterschool lessons and how I got mixed up into it - I'm not sure. It was probably a lot like all of the other things that my mom and Selsa conspired on (i.e. if it was good for one daughter - it would be good for the other daughter too).

Nouns and verbs.
Male and female versions of words.

It was a lot to learn.

Selsa used to drill us on the fundamental proununciations of the words. The phrase which I cannot get out of my head, "el elefante es grande".

Looks (and probably sounds) simple enough, right? Absolutely not. You needed to put emphasis in the right areas and your tone needed to reflect the statement that it was.

It was during this period of time in our friendship that I first noticed how tough Selsa was on Ericka.

Selsa was an elementary school teacher. She taught at Hoagland and then at Ward. Her teaching (and parenting) methodology reminded me a lot of my third grade teacher, Miss (Sandra) McDougall. She was tough, had high expectations, did not take any b.s., and did not allow for any excuses. Neither she nor Miss McDougall were mean - they were just very set in how they thought things should happen. It's a series of good qualities to have in a school teacher. In a parent? I have mixed emotions.

My mom wasn't anything like this (not to say she was a "better" parent or anything like that). Their styles were just totally different from one another. My mom was more laid back and casual about parenting and I think that I had higher expectations of myself than I think she had of me - or at least that she ever verbalized to me. She was basically a kid herself and although she was smart, she dropped out her junior year to have me. I think she was just pleased that I was a good kid who liked school, did well, and didn't cause issues for anyone (except my bratty sister PJ).

Sitting at the table, one Wednesday afternoon, practicing our Spanish - I saw it.

I saw the almost unbearably high standards for everything and anything.

I saw the cracks in my friend. She never broke down or fell apart. It was her demeanor, the sad, defeated look in her dark eyes. I didn't know how to fix it. My first reaction was to grab her hand and run out the back door and into the big, back yard.

But I didn't. I sat there with her and we continued through the lesson.

Afterwards, while waiting for my mom to pick me up, we went outside and spun ourselves around in circles until we got dizzy and fell to the ground laughing.

That's how me and Ericka used to deal with things in our lives. Distractions. Goofin' off. We never poured our hearts out to each other and we never had deep, insightful discussions. We were there for each other in a very silent way and for many years, it's probably what kept us both sane.

Life on Hadley Road

2009-01-28T00:01:00.001-05:00

We helped the Couch family moved into their new house on Hadley Road. There were a lot of "firsts" involved in this move (for me). For example...

1) It was the first time I saw a moving truck that big. When we moved from our apartment to a house, there were pick-up trucks and cars involved - no moving truck :).

2) I had never seen a house that big.

Some perspective for you. The house that they lived in on Kyle Road (I believe it was rented from the Toor's), was approximately 800 square feet.

This is an aerial view of the house they moved into on Hadley Road.

I would guess the house is at least 2500 sq ft. - maybe more. The driveway - which pretty much looks the same, was black tar-like material that sloped downward. In the winter time, it made it tricky to get vehicles in and out but during the mid to late 70's, Hadley Road was more of a side road. It didn't have the traffic that I'm sure it has today.

Other things I remember about the house...

No one ever used the front door - it was much easier to drive down the driveway and enter the house through the garage (which sat under the house).

The first floor, which had the living room, family room, dining room, 1/2 bath, and kitchen - was sparsely furnished in the beginning. In fact, the official "living room" and "dining room" had nothing in them and we would often use that area to goof off....Ericka would show off with her fancy gymnastics moves and I would twirl around and tap like I was Fred Astaire...

All of the bedrooms were located upstairs. Ericka kept her room kind of plain - it had her white, four poster canopy bed in it along with her dresser and night stand in it. Her younger brother (Aaron) though, wanted his room painted dark blue and I think he even had bunk beds.

For the first couple of months, things were different - obviously - because I just couldn't walk over to Ericka's house on my own (nor her to mine), however, we settled into a comfortable routine whereby I was able to spend the night with her often. Kind of like our own slumber party.

On one particular Friday, Ericka introduced me to a record - and an artist that I had never heard of - Elton John. Music was always in the background of my life but it wasn't until that very moment, that I honed in on my first artist and my first set of "serious grown-up albums".

In the front room area, we had our bowl of Jiffy Pop, our pitcher of grape koolaid and we put on the toons and sang and danced. Stand out tracks included: Island Girl, Crocodile Rock, Bennie and the Jets, and Honkey Cat.

Finger Lickin' Good

2009-01-27T12:31:00.003-05:00

Alright. Here's a new postcard for you. On the back it says, "5 Locations, Fort Wayne, Indiana. Specializing in Col. Sander's Kentucky Fried Chicken - Mac's Famous Barbecue and Original Pancakes.

Color photo is by Virgil V. Marquart (my Fort Wayne, pop-culture historian, RIP)

It was mailed to someone on May 31, 1965.

SO - where were these restaurants located at?

You can click on the picture - which will take you to flickr and you can look at the postcard in even more detailed (about 4 times the size you see here).

Is that center picture the KFC that was on Bluffton Road???

And whatever happened to the Hobby House?

Postcard of Aerial View of Downtown Fort Wayne, Ind.

2009-01-26T10:14:00.001-05:00

Postcard of Aerial View of Downtown Fort Wayne, Ind.
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

As many of you know, I've been collecting postcards of Fort Wayne for quite some time.

Some of my very favorite postcards are those that are "aerial" in nature. I think it's interesting to see how much Fort Wayne has changed over time.

This particular postcard that I've posted today, is a very vibrant, non-photograph aerial view of Fort Wayne.

If you're up to the challenge - I'd like you to go out to flickr (where I scanned in the original) and tag with notes - what each one of these buildings are or were. You can just click through to flickr from the picture.

So for instance - I put a note on the Lincoln National Bank building and one on the Allen County Court House. (Add a note is near the top of the screen in flickr).

You'll need to register (at flickr) in order to contribute - registration is free.

And thanks for helping me to figure out what all of these buildings are / were!

Mayor Tom Henry and His Wife Met at Scott's Decatur Road

2009-01-25T07:52:00.004-05:00

Here's yet another photo from LIFE MAGAZINE's story on the famous Eavey's Market.

As you all know, Don Scott recently passed away. I had left a message on his guestbook and Cheryl Scott (his daughter), replied to me this weekend, thanking me for my kind words.

She told me that she had heard that Decatur Road was closing and that it was good that her dad had died not knowing about it. I'm sure those of you that know the history of Scott's understand how much that particular location meant to Mr. Scott.

I haven't connected all of the dots together, but I do know that at some point, Mr. Eavey was ready to get out of the business (I assume retiring???) and someone else took over the Decatur Road location. Articles I have read said that Don Scott came in later and took it off the hands of whomever had it because it was "fledgling" and because he saw opportunity written all over the location.

Now, I'm a bit younger than some of my readers here :) so I don't remember the things like the coffee grinder or the swimming pool. But I'll tell you what I do remember.

As a little girl, I remember walking under the grand arches of the store, feeling like I was walking in to an adventure! I remember the smells - I remember the enormous amounts of fresh produce (I even told my grandma one day that Scott's must have the largest garden ever!)

I remember the big red slide that was adjacent to the property. We used to take our burlap sacks and ride down that slide - faster than cars on I27 - I was sure of it!

One of the comments left on my blog talked about the potential for a "missed" opportunity. Read it here.

"Back in those days, Fort Wayne could do big things because there were individuals who had vision who didn't think about limitations. Back then, people honestly believed that Fort Wayne could be a world class city, no matter what side of town you were talking about."

Let me tell you - that captures a huge slice of why I have such great love for Fort Wayne. I cannot even tell you the number of folks who were always confused when I told them that Fort Wayne wasn't about the big chains (grocery or restaurants). People would look at me - confused. And it's the second biggest city in the State? Yep, isn't that neat (I would say).

Unfortunately, I can't get one designated leader (elected or otherwise), to give me the time of day. Maybe they're afraid of offending Kroger's because Kroger is keeping folks employed in this horrible economy....

Who knows the reason why. I guess I need to go to Plan B.

Incidentally, that nugget about Mayor Tom Henry - that came from Cheryl Scott in her latest email to me today. I'm sure that there's more behind the story - oh Mr. Mayor - where are you???

P.S. Did you know that the Decatur Road location is already pulling things out even though the closing isn't for another three weeks? Read about it here

No Response Yet From Fort Wayne Leaders - Re: Scott's Decatur Road

2009-01-23T07:04:00.008-05:00

Photo Courtesy of Clay Blackburn

(I like this particular view of the cornucopia because it shows the "bones" of the structure. Although the external appearance has been changed, the bones of the structure are from the original store built in 1956.)

Just wanted to let folks know that I wrote to Councilman Glynn Hines, Southeast neighborhood association leader Bill Crowley, and the City of Fort Wayne's Southeast Area Advocate - Chreise Dixie. No response back yet from any of them.

Maybe today!

In case you missed it, the News-Sentinel wrote up a nice blurb on our concerns.

Also, SuperValu purchased Scott's (originally - before Kroger's) and they were the ones responsible for altering the original sign. If anyone has any contacts at SuperValu they can forward to me so that I can talk to them - that would be awesome. Or - I think Rick Bender? used to be the store manager there for several years....his contact info would be great also!

Update On The Cornucopia (New Information - 4:30 est)

2009-01-21T16:37:00.000-05:00

Wanted to add another shot of Eavey's from the Life Magazine Image Collection.

Also, I spoke with John Elliott - the media spokesperson from Kroger. If any of you would like to contact him, he is open to it - his email address is John.Elliott@kroger.com and the number he can be reached is 317-538-1495.

This appeared in today's Journal Gazette:

Scott’s cornucopia unlikely to be saved

"A local landmark is expected to be lost when the Scott’s Food & Pharmacy at 5300 Decatur Road closes Feb. 14.

The large cornucopia adorning the front of the building is anchored with steel that extends from the top of the horn into the foundation, Kroger Co. spokesman John Elliott said.

Elliott didn’t know of any plans to preserve the sign. And he expressed doubts it could be saved without destroying part of the building."

So here's the good news. The Journal Gazette took some liberties with its reporting and certainly, with its headline.

I spoke to John Elliott for approximately 15 minutes. He was very open, polite, and gracious. The question he was asked by the Journal Gazette was - would Kroger pay to move the cornucopia to another place.

Kind of a different question than what I was asking.

I asked him - is there any possible way - we can save the cornucopia? I explained to John (me - a complete stranger) that this cornucopia was an iconic symbol to the citizens of Fort Wayne. I probably blathered on for a good 5 minutes, explaining the emotional attachment to it and my gosh - the man listened to me.

He not only listened - he gave me feedback that he - and Kroger - were certainly open to a dialog with us (us being those emotionally attached to our cornucopia).

He did go into some explanation regarding why they were closing the Decatur Road store versus the Kroger located across the way.

A couple of items (and I am paraphrasing)

1) That area of the city has not been generally supportive of the store. Sales are very poor.

2) The Kroger across the way is located in a shopping center which gives the place more foot traffic.

3) The closest Kroger had been recently remodeled and one of the deciding factors in closing Decatur Road, was a combination of its declining sales and the price to have to remodel.

John said he was going to check in to see what the status was of the real estate situation. He was optimistic and said someone from Fort Wayne could always come along and purchase the place. And you know - he's completely right. He also said that a new owner wouldn't necessarily NOT preserve it. I wanted to bring up Southtown Mall to him but then I didn't want to burden him with Fort Wayne's issues.

SO - I'm passing this all off to my buddy Stephen Parker - and between the two of us - and anyone that is willing to jump in and help - we want to figure out how to save a piece of Fort Wayne history. By the way, ARCH remains silent and passive on the situation which pisses me off. Send them some of your love, k?

The elected representative for the district where the Decatur Road Scott's is located is Councilman Glynn A. Hines. He can be reached here - 260-447-7144 or glynnhines@aol.com

WE WILL NOT LET ANOTHER PIECE OF FORT WAYNE / SOUTH SIDE HISTORY BE DESTROYED. WAKE UP FORT WAYNE LEADERSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Update (4:31 p.m. est)

I would like to formally apologize to Angie Quinn from ARCH. After I emailed her my blog posting, she responded very quickly. She indicated that Stephen Parker and I were the only ones to reach out to ARCH - there was no contact from the local, traditional media outlets.

Here's her response.
*******************

Here is ARCH's response:

Since the Eavey's grocery store opening on July, 31, 1956, the Eavey/Scotts Cornucopia sign has been a beloved and familiar landmark on Fort Wayne's south side. Although it is not the original sign—the sign and lighting were completely replaced in 1992, but the support structure is original—the sign is a significant local landmark. As one of the last of the grand "spectacular" signs of the 1950s, the cornucopia stands 70 feet tall, and formerly was made of porcelain coated steel, with neon lights outlining each fruit and vegetable. In 1992, the sign was replaced with a new metal sign, which did not include new neon outlining the produce. As a community landmark, however, the changes are almost imperceptible, and the sign is every bit as loved now as it was loved in 1992.

However, the removal of the original materials may make preservation efforts difficult. Most funding sources for historic preservation projects require that the building/site/structure be listed on the National Register of Historic Places. We're in the process now of getting a determination of whether the sign is eligible, since the sign materials are not original, and are not yet 50 years old—the usual criteria for inclusion on the register.

We've also begun investigating whether the sign could be protected through the Fort Wayne Local Historic Preservation Ordinance, which allows property owners to have a special designation—much like a special zoning—that will require that the city's Historic Preservation Commission review all visible changes to the exterior of a protected resource. As a sign, all of the cornucopia would be subject to review. The main problems with this avenue are that, 1) the owner needs to initiate the designation; and 2) the ordinance marks a specific piece of real estate, and not the historic resource itself. So, in this case, it would involve making the entire Scotts parcel a local historic district. Unfortunately, the store itself has been remodeled so many times it is not architecturally significant at all.

IF the owner would donate the sign, and IF a location for the sign were located, and IF funds were found to pay for its removal and replacement, then it is possible to have the sign protected. As a piece of public art [which it most definitely is] it might then be eligible for Local Historic District protection. Otherwise, we will need to hope that the next owner of the store chooses to keep the sign, as Eavey's, Scotts, Super Value, and Kroger did while running their grocery store operations in the building.

One other option to consider, should the above fail, is donating the sign to one of the national sign museums (there's one in Cincinnati) or to a local entity like NATMUS in Auburn, which has collected other local retail signs of the 1950s (though I do not think they have the space).

The ARCH Preservation Committee will discuss the sign, and may propose further action at its meeting later this month. I'll be happy to keep you up to date, and I would be happy to speak to a group of concerned citizens about the sign, if there is interest.

I'll also upload this to our blog: www.archfw.wordpress.com, to see if other interested folks contact ARCH about the sign.

On a personal note: as a child of the south side, myself, the cornucopia has been a most important landmark my entire life. I was in the marching band at Bishop Luers (when they still had one) from 1978-1982, and every practice was timed to the big neon clock on the west side of the store, easily seen from Luer's football field across the highway. The clock is gone now, too.

*******************

YES! A South Sider! Yay for us. Please - everyone - pass the word - tell your friends - your relatives - have them make noise - have them contact ARCH, Glynn Hines, and the local media. We actually have a chance here to make a difference!

End of an Era - Scott's on Decatur Road

2009-01-20T19:29:00.005-05:00

Dear Kroger,

I had several folks email me today to tell me about your decision to close the Decatur Road Scott's Grocery Store. I was stunned. Speechless. I was so distraught about it, that I actually called my husband up and ranted at him on the phone.

Although he has absolutely no attachment to the South Side of Fort Wayne (like I do – he’s a North Side’r), he understands why I’m upset about this decision.

You see....back in 1956, a man named Henry J. Eavey had a dream. He wanted to build the country's largest single-room grocery store and he wanted to do it in Fort Wayne. On a location just across from U.S. Highway 27, an 80,760 square foot supermarket was erected.

How cool was that?

But it got even cooler than that.

He wanted his store to be seen from miles away and what better way to do that than with an iconic symbol - a food-filled cornucopia.

And when Don Scott bought Eavey's in the late 60's, he understood that this iconic symbol was a part of the attraction of what made the Decatur Road location, a neat place to shop. He had it cleaned up a bit, switching the names out (of course).

As a little girl who grew up on the South Side of Fort Wayne, driving by the Decatur Road Scott's was fascinating. For the longest time, I thought the cornucopia was a dragon (you know - like Puff the Magic Dragon). It would be many years before my grandma would break it to me - Krissie, they call that a cornucopia...you know - like a horn of plenty?

Yea - okay - I guess so. If I turned my head a certain way , I could see that BUT I still thought that Puff the Magic Dragon was a much neater explanation.

Kroger - did you know that about a decade later - that cornucopia was battered by storms (and possibly a tornado?) that made its way through Fort Wayne? Yep. And you know, Don Scott, he could have said to himself - heck - that thing is just a nuisance. It's comin' down permanently. But you see, he didn't. Why? I'm assuming it's because he knew that that darn cornucopia is a big darn deal to us Fort Wayne folks.

Seriously.

It's like - you don't mess with Coney Island - you don't jack with Powers - and you certainly don't screw with the cornucopia.

So now, you're closing Decatur Road Scott's and I'm sitting here in my little ole house in Fishers, Indiana, fretting about the future of the cornucopia. I kid you not. If you destroy one of the most iconic symbol's of Fort Wayne, I don't think that I will ever forgive you.

If you allow a place like The Dollar General Store to move into that building and bastardize my cornucopia, you will break my heart into a trillion pieces.

Seriously.

If you destroy the cornucopia because you lack an understanding of its importance to us, you will break my heart into a trillion pieces.

Seriously.

So please respond and let me know what your plan is for our beloved Fort Wayne piece of history. If I have to go out and raise funds to save it - I will. If I have to stage a roof sit-in - I will.

Please do not take away/destroy another piece of my childhood.

Confessing My Sins

2009-01-18T17:51:00.002-05:00

This Is Where Ericka Accidentally Tripped Me
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

At some point in time (1974?), my mother enrolled me and my sister PJ in CCD (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine) classes at St. Therese. They were held every Wednesday evening and at one point in time, they almost cut into my favorite new show – Happy Days.

Selsa Couch also enrolled Ericka in CCD and between the two of them, they coordinated the pick up and drop off of the three of us to the classes.

During second grade, Ericka and I went through some special preparation which led up to two events – First Communion (and more on this later) and The Sacrament of Penance. I was puzzled by the latter. The idea was to confess our sins and to be freed from them while at the same time, seeking mercy and forgiveness from God. There were categories of sins and ways in which people showed that they were sorry for them.

My very first time was a bit scary and intimidating. In the multi-purpose room (in the St. Therese school/church building), they set up the confessional – um – I guess box? It was dark brown – one side was where the priest sat – cloaked in privacy and the other side was where the confessor sat. In between us was a wooden, sliding window. It was to be pulled open when the confessor was ready to begin.

I thought long and hard about what to confess and amazingly – I had to really stretch the “bad” things because I truly was a good kid. Seriously!

I remember telling Father Frank that I had been mean to my sister Patty (I left out the part that she provoked me – the little brat that she was), I thought mean things about my mom and dad, and I had told 2 lies to friends (okay – those were white lies because Colleen Wooden had asked me if I liked the way she cut her Barbie’s hair and I said sure – I didn’t want to hurt her feelings).

Ericka went right before me so when I was finished, I joined her in the church, with my rosary to say the prayers assigned to me (10 Our Fathers and 3 Hail Mary’s). Although we were being watched closely by our CCD teachers, we compared our punishment through a pre-designated sign language system. Fancy that we both received the same number of prayers!

After it was all over, and we were waiting for Selsa to pick us up, Ericka dropped the bombshell on me that she would probably be moving at the end of the school year. It seems that her dad Larry was moving up in the world so they were going to move into a big ole house far away from me.

I was stunned and said nothing.

As we were running down the sidewalk to meet her mom’s car, I tripped and fell, cutting up my calf and knee pretty badly. I accused Ericka of tripping me and truth be told – I’m not sure if she did (accidentally) or if my clumsy self with my big feet, tripped over something like an indentation in the pavement. We were horsing around as we were running so either could have been the case. I sobbed – almost hysterically. Sure, there was lots of blood and crappy gravel-ish stuff in my knee but looking back, I think the tears were really about me losing my best friend. She had been my “constant” for three years. I felt like the rug was pulled out from under me. But I never told anybody that (until now).

The next day, Ericka came over to my house and delivered to me a "get well" plant along with a handwritten note about how sorry she was for tripping me. I couldn’t even look at her. While looking at the ground, I accepted her gift and then went back to the dinner table to eat.

My mom was impressed with Ericka’s gesture. I kept silent during the entire meal. Everything tasted like paper but I knew that if I didn’t eat, it would draw attention to myself and I would be subjected to questioning. I ate. Kept quiet and took the pain to bed with me.

Me and Ericka never talked about the accidental tripping situation again nor did we have any discussions about the move. When we were together, we just didn’t talk about that. Selsa would give my mom details and my mom would mention things to me. But me and Ericka – nope – we never talked about her moving.

And it happened. She moved to a big ole fancy house on Hadley Road. And another chapter in our relationship began.

More Southside Pictures - Blast from the Past

2009-01-03T12:47:00.003-05:00

Lots of awesome responses yesterday! I found some more gems from the south side of Fort Wayne - enjoy!

Burger Chef with KMart's auto center peeking out...

Fabric World with KMart's main store to the right...

I THINK - Ponderosa

AYR-WAY'S South Location

2009-01-02T14:36:00.003-05:00

AYR-WAY'S South Location
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

John Good has been posting pictures from this side of town (ala now and then) which made me nostalgic and thus, led me to the CONTENTdm ACPL database. I was in search of my south side of Fort Wayne - the one I used to know.

I found this picture and at first - I was like neat! Ayr-Way's! But then, I started zooming in on the different areas of the picture and that's when I saw all of the other gems.

Starting from left to right.

1) Kmart (probably their garden shop)

2) This looks like a Ponderosa!

3) A church? A cemetery? I don't remember this at all.

4) Burger Chef (I miss the works bar!)

So then, I had to go out to Microsoft Maps and see what the area looks like today.

1) Empty Building - what used to be Ayr-Way's. Sadness. Church and cemetery seems to still be intact.

2) Not Burger Chef. Sadness. Ponderosa? Not sure. Doesn't look like it. Not sure what that other building is. That's what I think had the KMART sign on it in the 1970's picture.

It's just really sad to me that first, downtown was shred to bits and then the south side of town followed suit.

Sigh.

My Old Friend Returns - 26 Years Later

2008-12-29T02:35:00.003-05:00

Peoples Trust and Savings Company clock returns
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

Much of my childhood in the early 70's was spent walking on the sidewalks of downtown Fort Wayne. I can close my eyes and see it all - smell it all too!

G.C. Murphy's (and the donuts)

Lincoln Bank (and the church-like ceilings)

B&B Loans (and the guitars and other instruments in the windows)

Riegels (and the smell of tobacco)

And then - there was the clock that hung off of the Peoples Trust Bank building.

It was located in a sweet place - near the corner of Wayne and Calhoun. It was across the street from Murphy's and directly next to a building that used to be called Grand Leader (and I think later - Stillman's Department Store).

The clock was really cool because it had four sides of glass and was enclosed by an impressive brass-looking shell. It was affixed to the building and as I walked under it, I always imagined that one day, it might fall down and hit me on the head.

Never anyone else - just me :). I was such the drama queen - even then.

In 1982, Fort Wayne, in its many we-must-tear-down-every-decent-building-in-sight adventures, rid itself of the Peoples Trust Bank building HOWEVER - someone had some forethought to store the clock away.

I'd like to hug that person. Seriously.

Because now, in all of its glory, it has returned (according to the Downtown Times) and is now located outside the Baker Street Train Station.

YAY!

Here are some pictures of the clock's past lives that I scooped up from my favorite place - CONTENTdm (ACPL).

This was just a painting of the clock on the side of the Peoples Trust Bank Building...

R.I.P. Don Scott

2008-12-28T11:51:00.005-05:00

I don't know what made me go over to the Fort Wayne Newspaper site last night or even, what made me browse through the obituaries. Seems like an odd thing to do, doesn't it?

And then I saw it - the obituary for Donald G. Scott.

Don Scott.

Founder of Scott's Foods.

Entrepreneur and employer of hundreds of thousands of Fort Wayne citizens.

And a man who knew the right way to pack a damn bag of groceries.

I kid you not.

In 1985, I applied for the position of cashier at Scott's. There was a massive 'job fair' like event and I went in and filled out the paperwork and talked with a couple of HR-types.

Don Scott was there. He shook my hand and asked me why I wanted to work for him. I must say, when you're 18 and applying for your very first 'real' job, stuff like this can be intimidating. But you see - I had absolutely no idea who he was or how important he was. I was just 18. Fresh. Naive. Big-eyed wonderment. And all about complete honesty.

I looked up at him and said, "Sir, I'm not sure why I want to work for you specifically. I'm looking for my first job, one that can help me pay my way through college. I saw the advertisement in the paper and thought I'd come down here and apply.

He looked at me, sort of gruff like and said, "I like honesty. You work hard, you'll get far in life young lady."

I smiled and didn't think much of it. After all, it was the same type of advice that my grandpa used to give to me.

When I received a phone call that they wanted to hire me and I would be starting with the next training class (out at the Decatur Road Scott's training facility), I was elated! I was still in high school and didn't yet have my driver's license so there were some logistics to making this work. But gosh - I remember that time like it was yesterday.

A woman named Marty was our "trainer". We were up on the second floor of the store in a conference room at the start of our training. She took us through the history of Scott's and the philosophy of the company. When I saw Don Scott's picture, I just about died of embarrassment. Sheesh! I should have given him a more eloquent answer than what came out of my mouth.

But oh well - I was here. I did get hired.

Part of the training was not only 'book learning' but also hands on with the register. That was the fun part! Scanners were fairly new (I think that they were "NCR" machines) and so we were learnin' in a high tech fashion.

There was one particular day though, that everything was non-high tech.

That was the day that Don Scott made an appearance. He was there to teach us how to bag groceries properly.

Seriously

This man was passionate about groceries being packed in a way that maximized space, evenly distributed the weight of the goods, and most importantly - ensured that the customer left with their high quality items in tact.

It was one of my most favorite training sessions - ever - from any company I have been employed at.

Even today, when I go to the grocery store, I still pack like Don Scott taught me. I separate out the frozen from the dry goods. I layer the bottom with canned goods and the top with boxes. I separate out the eggs and bread. They can go on the very top of each bag OR they can have their own individual bag.

When I happen to go through a non-self serve line, I often get remarks from the cashiers or bag boys/girls about the meticulous way in which I pack up my groceries. I just tell them that I used to work in a grocery store and this was how I was taught. Seems second nature to me.

Don Scott. I'll never forget your pragmatic approach to the 'right' things nor the opportunities that you gave me and hundreds of thousands of other kids in Fort Wayne. Yours is a life to emulate. Rest in peace sir.

The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present

2008-12-25T00:01:00.000-05:00

I was chatting with someone just a few days ago. I asked them what their plans were for Christmas and they asked me mine.

Oh...how times have changed.

When I was little, my grandparents were the center of the universe and wherever they were - that's where Christmas was.

Initially, Christmas was at the apartment building - 808 Clay Street.

(Pictured: Wayne E. Roy, Irene Roy, Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier - Christmas 1967)

Everyone - my Aunts (Carolyn and Barb), their husbands (Jim and Bob), and my parents, plus me, my sister, and eventually my two cousins - Wendy and Cindy...we all gathered here and celebrated Christmas.

Church was a priority. My great-grandmother (Helena Starost Roy Kline) was a devout catholic and my Grandpa and his three daughters were obedient attenders of catholic mass - especially on Christmas. Cathedral was just a hop, skip and a jump away - which was good because we could walk there and back from the apartment building.

As you can see from this picture, my grandpa is dressed up. This was his "Sunday suit" - or at least that is what I called it. He wasn't one to wear fancy things - but you could count on the suit coming out for Christmas, Easter, weddings, funerals, and baptisms :).

My grandma wasn't much of a church goer. She would stay behind - busying herself in the kitchen. You could always count on pleasant smells (and sometimes unusual as my grandma was known to stray from the typical Christmas feast).

My grandparents moved to Jackson, Michigan sometime in the early 70's.

Even though my family (and Aunt Carolyn's) was in Fort Wayne and Aunt Barb's was in Elkhart - it was never doubted that we would all travel up to Jackson, Michigan and celebrate Christmas together as a family.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Cindy Baughman, Wendy Welker - Christmas 1975)

We would usually drive up the day / night before so that my mom and aunt's could help my grandma with all of the cooking.

Grandpa liked to sit in his big, overstuffed brown recliner chair, watching his black and white television, smoking his cigar.

The four cousins - well - we had an absolute blast! I have to tell you that only having one sibling at the time (my sister) was boring and frustrating. Getting to hang with Cindy and Wendy was awesome because it was fresh blood to pick on! Normally though, we'd play board games, dress- up, go out side and sled, etc....There was never a time where we sat around and asked to go home. Being at grandma and grandpa's house was always awesome.

This is where I distinctly remember the grown-ups and kids table. The grown-ups sat around the dining room table and the four girls - well - we got our own table. It was a 4 x 4 card table with folding chairs to boot.

(Pictured: Patricia S. Frazier, Frank Frazier - Christmas dining room table, 1975)

Some other traditions that stand out for me - my grandma allowing us to pick one ornament from the tree to take home and my grandpa getting on the floor and handing out the gifts, one by one. As a kid whose family struggled to make ends meet, Christmas was the motherload from a gift perspective. The night before we opened gifts - none of us girls could hardly sleep.

In the late 70's, my grandparents moved back to Fort Wayne and they lived in the Sheridan Court Apartments on Union Street.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Jason Frazier - Christmas 1978)

This was the very last Christmas that we would spend together as a family unit - that is - me, my siblings, and my parents. My parents split up a month after this and everything in our lives changed.

Despite my parents divorce (and my two aunt's all divorcing and re-marrying), my grandparents had this unspoken thing about keeping the Christmas tradition alive.

In the early eighties, they moved to a house on Third Street. And even though I was in high school and my sister, and cousins were also moving up into "that age", the Christmas tradition was not to be messed with.

The main difference about the house on Third Street is that instead of just visiting it, I also lived there for a period of time. It didn't ruin my excitement about seeing everyone and by this time, I was starting to like some of my grandma's weird food selections :).

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Cindy Wilkins, Wendy Welker, Patty Frazier - Christmas 1985)

This picture here - is extremely precious to me. It's the very last photo of me, my sister, and my two cousins...taken with my grandfather. Five months later, he would become very ill and less than a year after that, he died.

Christmas has not been the same since.

My grandma lost the spring in her step and eventually, we all drifted away.

There have been a couple times that an effort has been made for all of us to get together.

(Pictured: Cyndi Wilkins, Kristina Frazier - Christmas, 1994?)

But most of the time, it doesn't happen. Some of it had to do with the strain in the relationships between sisters (my mom and two aunts) and sometimes it was just a question of other obligations and/or distance that some lived away from Fort Wayne.

To be quite honest, there have been several times - holiday or not holiday - where I have chosen not to take part in a family get together because of my own anxiety. Since the death of my grandfather and the multiple changes that my cousins have gone through - I just don't know how to "be" around them. For years, my sister, Cindy, and Wendy - we were glue for each other...Through the second round of siblings (ugh - all boys!), to the divorce of our parents (and their subsequent remarriages). The multiple moves, the multiple dysfunctions of the family (i.e. drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, sexual abuse, depression...). The boyfriends, the jobs, the cars, the booze...

Now, it is as if we don't even know each other.

So you remember, at the beginning of this entry, I said that I was chatting with someone about what our plans were for the Christmas holiday...

After I told this person what I was doing, all of these memories came flooding back to me (in about a span of four seconds). I remember writing to her, "it's bizarre how relationships change over time". That was my way to acknowledge that my Christmas has a definite hole in it. The absence of my grandfather, the silent treatment from my father, and the evaporated relationships that used to be - Me, Patty, Cindy, Wendy.

Dance Recital Roster

2008-12-24T20:01:00.007-05:00

There was more to the "Spotlight On Youth" program. Here are the other three pages. If you click on each thumbnail, it should be larger and therefore, more readable. Just in case, I decided to list the names of all of the people who were in this particular recital. Are you one of them? Do you know any of the folks listed?? If so, let me know!

Angela Holomes
Angela Lomont
Ann Menefee
Barbara Dixon
Bettina Beard
Bonnie Bectol
Bonnie Sherbon
Chris White
Connie Mitchell
Dawn Carboni
Dawn Rhoads
Debbie Lenniger
Dede Pittinger
Georgeanna Stuck
Heidi Lawrence
Heidi Schmitt
Jackie Snyder
Jane Prichard
Jill Ann Shaw
Jo Lynn Shaw
Julie Hacka
Karen Summers
Kathy Dixon
Kathy Johnson
Kelly Smith
Kim Booker
Kim Elam
Kim Gottfried
Kim Shroyer
Kim Underwood
Kim Vodde
Kristina Frazier
Leslie Cook
Lisa Booker
Lisa Carr
Lisa Knight
Lisa Russell
Lori Young
Machell Crist
Marsha Eckert
Maureen Moran
Meg Gottfried
Micca O'Connor
Michelle Cook
Michelle Wiedmann
Mike Burry
Mindi Salyer
Monica Quinn
Nancy Leullen
Patty Olson
Reed Oscott
Robert Oscott
Ronda Johnson
Rose Salyer
Sally Vodde
Sandy Pressler
Sheri Crist
Sheri Knight
Susan Gardner
Susan Huntley
Susan Mitchell
Tammy Browne
Tammy Perkins
Teresa Mitchell
Tina Le Compete
Toni Eckert
Tracie Pattee
Tracie Stabler
Tricia Elam
Tricia Zuber
Vicki Olson
Vicki Smith

Spotlight On Youth

2008-12-23T00:01:00.002-05:00

On May 17, 1973 (my parent's 7th wedding anniversary), I performed for my very first time in front of an audience in a dance recital held at South Side High School.

I don't remember being nervous. I do remember loving all of the fun costumes that I got to wear. The stage seemed enormous - I've never been back to South Side since so I don't know if I was comparing it to the stage at Indian Village Elementary (and that was small in comparison) or if South Side's was really humungous!

That's me - girl on the end (all the way to the far right). You'll notice that what I'm doing seems to be just a tad bit different from the other two girls. My grandma swears up and down (even to this day) that I was doing the routine perfectly and the other two girls were missing their moves. Dontcha just love grandma's?!

In this picture, I am almost in the middle (count four over from the right). I seem to be doing pretty much was everyone else is but NOTICE the swinging arms and the amount of space between me and each girl beside me :). Is it my imagination OR are those other girls lookin' at me?! Was I doing something special or were they watching a freak show in motion? I guess we will never know....

I am not in this picture.

Nor in this one.

But you see, these four pictures, along with the program, are the only physical/tangible things I have left from my Marlene's Dance Studio days.

My red hair bow, my red tutu, and the red/white striped outfit, and my tap shoes you see in the first and second picture - I packed those very carefully into a box that I kept with me at almost all times. When we had to pick up and move to yet another house or another school in the later years, it was part of the stuff that I kept close to me - like my identity box.

Whenever I felt lost or insignificant or sad - I would look at the stuff in my box and be reminded that I was someone who mattered and despite what was going on around me, everything would get better. That was the hope that I needed to hold on to in order to get through that day or night or week or month.

When I was 17, my box disappeared forever and as silly as it may sound, it's something that still makes me sad. It's just "stuff" - I know...the symbolism of its existence though - reinforced so many things for me and without it, well...I'm not even sure what to say. It may be the reason why I started this blog about a year ago. Maybe this is my new identity box...

Marlene's Dance Studio

2008-12-22T16:54:00.006-05:00

Marlene's Dance Studio
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

There were many reasons why I loved living and growing up on the south side of Fort Wayne.

Things were not so (I'm looking for the right word)...'corporate' and 'big'.

There were many small business owners not only for retail but also for services. I don't know if my parents consciously patronized small business owners, but it seemed like we did a lot of that thing back in my childhood.

One of my stories from last month (http://childofthefort.blogspot.com/2008/10/imagination-can-alter-life.html) explained how me, my sister, and my friend Erika, became interested in stuff like tap and gymnastics.

And sometime in 1972, we began lessons over at Marlene's Dance Studio.

Who was Marlene?

I didn't really know back then. When I started to look into writing this blog entry, I became curious and I looked through a lot of stuff, trying to piece things together.

Unfortunately, it was her obituary that gave me the most background information about her. Marlene Huntley died in March 2002 at the age of 63. She was originally from Bay City, Michigan and had worked at Hall's on Bluffton Road as a waitress for several years.

I don't know if she had a professional dance background or how she decided to open up her own dance studio. I also don't know when her studio shut down or how her life played out (with the exception of what the obituary told me). I guess yet another mystery that will go unanswered...

Marlene's dance studio was located - get this - on West Dewald Street.

West Dewald is perhaps - not the hot, happenin' area that it once was, but back then, the neighborhood was clean, safe, and full of kids who rode their bikes and played kickball and dodgeball in the street. I haven't been back in that area for over 30 years - I wonder what it's like today???

Marlene didn't have a fancy dance studio. Nope. She used her house for lessons. It looked like the area that would have been her living room was completely ripped up/redone to look like a dance studio. There were hardwood floors, a mirror that stretched from ceiling to floor and covered an entire wall. There was one of those ballet bars fastened to the wall where the mirror was. She had tons of vinyl and one giant/loud record player that was quite awesome to six/seven year olds...

Note: Thanks to Scott Howard for locating Marlene's house on google street maps....it barely resembles the place I used to visit 2 times a week.

My mother signed me and Patty up for tap and acrobatics (aka gymnastics). Tap was my thing. Gymnastics - not so much. I think it was because I was tall and lanky and not very bendy :).

After school, my mom used to make the three of us (me, Patty, Erika), practices our new hobby on our enclosed front porch. During the winter time, it was really cold so we would start out with our winter coats on.

I think if anyone would have seen Erika doing a back bend with her big old parka coat on, they would have had a giggle. She was challenged with the hood (always) and we had quite a debate on whether the hood (with the furry stuff on the outside of it) should be up or down. Down guaranteed major repercussions including accidentally smacking yourself in the head (with the hood) on the way back up from the back bend or with it up, you risked major static cling (thanks to the Indiana winters - dry dry dry climate).

I guess if my parents would have just heated the area - this would have taken away the whole parka dilemma :).

We knew that when it was time for Gilligan's Island, we were done practicing on the front porch and we could come in to watch Marianne, Ginger, and the Professor.

ALLEN COUNTY MOTORS ON WEST JEFFERSON STREET

2008-12-17T04:13:00.003-05:00

ALLEN COUNTY MOTORS ON WEST JEFFERSON STREET
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

I started looking again through the ACPL Contentdm again and ran across this picture of Allen County Motors. It doesn't have a date on it, but it look very 70'ish to me.

Here's another picture of the same spot - now vacated by the car dealer. I took it in July 2008 as I was driving out of town.

My husband (then boyfriend) purchased his first car from this place in 1988. It was a Ford Escort - grey. I think - actually - it was a 1988 1/2 - which was weird but that's how Ford labeled it.

Oh - and he had a car before the Ford Escort but it was inherited from his dad SO you know - it was a big deal making this particular purchase on his own. If I remember correctly, it cost him about $7800.

How A Toddler Can Push A Teenager's Buttons

2008-12-12T07:26:00.002-05:00

A love for vinyl
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

People have asked me, "what are some of your first memories"? And I'm pretty good at recalling very detailed points in times in my life - even back to toddler and pre-school ages.

But you know, not when I was 1 or 2 years old. That stuff, I rely on from my family.

The one story that has been told to me from the beginning of time is the one that involves me terrorizing my Aunt Barb.

When I was born, she was still in high school - in fact - I think she was a freshman in high school. Until I arrived, she was "the baby" of the family. And then here I came - and I turned her world inside out :).

This picture is of me - looks like oh - 18 months? - in her bedroom on 808 Clay Street. What am I doing? I'm pointing at her albums. Most likely, albums that contained music by The Beatles as she was keenly obsessed with the young men from the UK.

The story is, when she came home from school, and I would hear her start to come up the stairs (or when I would peer out the window and see her entering the building), I would run to her room and start grabbing for her records.

This, of course, would cause a great reaction on her part. I hear that she used to chase me around the apartment in order to retrieve her beloved collection.

I never knew if I broke any of her 45's or 33's (gosh I hope not), but obviously, I had an ornery streak in me from a very early age :).

And yes - that streak - it's still alive and kicking.

Franklin Delano Frazier

2008-12-11T13:24:00.002-05:00

Frank D Frazier
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

This is my dad. My very YOUNG dad - like when he was maybe 20 or 21. It's an interesting photograph for a couple of reasons.

First, it was taken on the porch area of an apartment building in Fort Wayne which no longer exists (808 Clay Street). I think next time I'm in town, I'll want to look down Clay and see if I can capture the same scene (and showing how instead of a building - there's just a parking lot there).

Second, my dad is dressed in something other than jeans and a t-shirt. Now mind you - I've got lots to say about what he's wearing. I question the coordination of the colors and I wonder if high-waters were "in" back then or if it was just a case of him wearing what was handed down to him. I'm thinking the latter is the case.

How come?

Straight Creek, Kentucky. Lived in a five room little shack. Ten kids. Coal miner father. Mom who grew most of their food in the hills of KY. So yes, hand me downs - that was probably the case here.

I think he looks incredibly handsome. Not like in a Brad Pitt way though. It's hard to explain. When I look at this picture - his smile reminds me of how charming he could be. When my dad was sober and around, he was a really neat person. So - this picture - I think - it's like a snapshot of a good memory of him...

So....switching gears a bit....

My relationship with my dad has been non-existent for about 16 years now.

WOW! I didn't realize it was that long until I typed it out.

Generally, I am the type of person not to hold grudges and so if any one of my friends told me that they didn't have a relationship with their father, I would probably encourage them to stop that nonsense and reach out to them asap. After all, life is incredibly short and so many people end up regretting so much after it's way too late.

My situation is a little different.

My dad is remarried and his wife has a strong hatred for me. He won't go against her wishes and thus we are where we are today.

Over time, I have learned to compartmentalize the fact that there is a lack of a relationship but unfortunately, twice a year (Father's Day and Christmas), it sneaks up on me and the old wounds rear their ugly head.

Christmas - well - that's his birthday. And you know - that's just right around the corner...

Big Shoes to Fill

2008-12-07T19:01:00.002-05:00

Big Shoes to Fill
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

I've been spending some time this weekend, going through really old photographs, scanning them in, uploading them to flickr, and of course - trying to make some sense out of them.

At first glance, I noticed, that this was a picture of me. After I had scanned it in and was looking to tag it, I really looked at it for the very first time.

I am in my Grandma and Grandpa's apartment - which no longer exists. 808 Clay Street, Fort Wayne, Indiana. My grandparents managed the apartments for some guy named Clyde Briggs and they lived there for about ten years.

When I was born, my parents moved into an apartment down the hall. I was the first grandchild and I spent a considerable amount of time with my grandparents.

Looking at the things that surround me in this picture, I am either in their bedroom or a spare bedroom. It's obvious that I'm gotten into stuff that belongs to others. I see mail on the floor. A book.

But what am I doing?

I'm putting on my grandpa's work shoes. They were black and had stiff laces. It's what he wore when he worked at the Fort Wayne Box Company.

I look at this picture and I laugh.

I don't remember it at all.

How conservative of me to just take my one shoe off and try his one shoe on. I always thought I was a throw caution to the wind kind of chick which would mean disposing of both shoes at the same time.

But still, I didn't know how to tie shoe laces back then. I slipped one shoe off (still tied tightly). Probably easier to explain just one shoe "coming off" then both shoes being off.

I do ramble on....but as I'm labeling this picture with things like 808 Clay Street, Apartment Building, Demolished, Grandparents Place, 1969, and Fort Wayne Indiana...I'm reminded that today would have been my grandpa's 87 birthday.

I'm usually very sad about these things but today - not as much as I have been in the past.

It's pictures like this that remind me...I was very fortunate to have a grandfather who loved me unconditionally...who taught me some of the best life lessons I've ever known...and who always knew that I was a little left of center...and to him...that was okay.

Where and When

2008-11-26T13:52:00.005-05:00

It's been far too long since I posted something here. I've been busy but also, I've had a bit of procrastinator/writer's block.

To kick myself into gear, I thought I'd post a picture from the past and ask how many things can you all identify correctly.

1) What year?
2) What street is this?
3) What are the cross streets
4) What parade?
5) What are the buildings/businesses pictured here?
Bonus: Do they still exist?

Fort Wayne Community School Board Race - 2008

2008-11-04T21:20:00.005-05:00

I've really wanted to keep as much politics out of my blog as possible because the purpose of Child of the Fort is for me to document all of the special times - people, places, things - about growing up in Fort Wayne.

Tonight though, I'm making an exception.

Steve Corona is continuing his 28 + year reign of mediocrity on the school board. Fort Wayne citizens in the 5th District re-elected him tonight.

He - along with Mark Giaquinta and Wendy Robinson - will succeed in destroying the school district that I love...the school district that set me on the right path with the right teachers, the right principal, the right curriculum, and the appropriate level of rigor and discipline.

And this makes me incredibly sad because many of my memories are about my school, my teachers, and the activities I participated in while a student at FWCS.

I don't think that any of these folks are evil. I think though, that something has happened and they are more concerned with their own priorities, their own agendas, than what the students need and deserve. They also seem to not care - or maybe understand - that their lack of focus on the fundamentals will in the long run, hurt the economy of Fort Wayne.

That's right folks.

They will continue to turn out students who are unemployable.

Those who do not fall into this category will flock outside of Fort Wayne because higher paying, professional positions aren't around now and won't be around in the future.

They will spend the next two years, concerned about buildings and creating chaotic high school environments (i.e. the new magnet concept recycled from the 80's). They will suck more money out of the Fort Wayne economy and give nothing in return but feel good, PR moments.

* More marketing campaigns - that will involve the Asher Agency who produced the fliers for Corona's campaign (not to mention the school logo they redesigned and received payment for - and god knows what else they've done for school board members and administrators).

* They will try to close Elmhurst High School again.

* They will destroy the neighborhood school concept. The high school re-organization is the catalyst for this.

* I see at least two more elementary schools closed (candidates - Bloomington, Nebraska). Maybe another middle school.

* They will continue to not take responsibility or accountability for anything - fiscally or academically related. They will blame the economy, Evert Mol, Jon Olinger, Bill Anthis, Lester Grille, racists, parents, teachers, lutherans, baptists, and every other Joe the Plumber for the continuing decline of the school system.

* They will continue to take pseudo-kick backs (or maybe I should label this - the back scratching society???) from all of the folks who benefit from their plan to spend large amounts of taxpayer dollars for items that don't benefit the basic, educational needs of students.

* The number of special education students will continue to rise. Right now, they represent 21.4% of the FWCS population. That's 6,298 students. Students that currently have a graduation rate of about 50%. And those unemployable FWCS drop-outs will need to be supported by national, state, and local tax dollars.

* The number of disciplinary issues will continue to rise. Although Giaquinta had the balls to publicly state that FWCS had NO disciplinary issues - the state data shows otherwise - Suspension or Expulsion, Incidents per 100 Students 2006-07 - Fort Wayne Community Schools 30.6

31 out of 100 students. And this is labeled not a problem???

So tonight, I congratulate

* The Journal Gazette - for their continued support of not only mediocrity but for the support of the eventual self-destruction of a once-great school corporation.

* Superintendent Wendy - who is now breathing a sigh of relief because she will continue to move forward with the blank check mentality.

* Mark and Steve because now, they are rid of Jon Olinger which means that they can give more favors to those who support their campaign and who benefit from all of the taxpayer monies that are going to be collected to build Wendy's utopian village.

* The movers and shakers of Fort Wayne. You used to take a ton of pride in NOT being an Indianapolis-wannabee city yet you continue to lead the school district down this path. Five years from now, FWCS will be IPS. That's right - the path has been paved and the journey has already started.

Imagination Can Alter A Life

2008-10-26T18:05:00.001-04:00

My sister Patty, me, and Ericka, used to spend a lot of time outdoors goofing off. When we were together (and maybe with other kids in the neighborhood) we would play the usual games of tag, red rover, ghost in the grave yard, and hide-n-go-seek.

But sometimes, there were no other kids to play with and when left to our own devices, we always managed to figure something out. In other words - boredom wasn't even in our vocabulary.

For example, while waiting for Selsa to drop off Ericka at my house one day, I stood outside and walked the curb of our street. I practiced putting one foot in front of another - like I was a gymnast walking on a balance beam. I'm sure that I had seen something like this on ABC Wide World of Sports - my whole goal at that time though - was to just pass time until Ericka got to my house.

Over time, using the curb as our balance beam became one of our games. We would judge each other - pretend that we were losing our balance - pretend that we were the most graceful girls that ever were. Sometimes, we danced on our balance beam.

I have no clue how it happened, but the next thing I knew, my mom and Selsa, had signed me, Ericka, and Patty up for classes with Marlene's Dance Studio.

We were enrolled in gymnastics and tap. While Patty and Ericka were much better at the gymnastics part, I was a total genius in the tap area.

Gymnastics significantly altered both Patty and Ericka's life. They both went on and excelled in gymnastics, receiving huge accolades in the form of awards and state recognitions.

And it all started - on the curb of Cedar Crest Circle. Who would have thought?!

The Frazier's and The Couch's

2008-10-19T21:24:00.009-04:00

The map probably looks familiar because I've posted it before. It's my memory of the kids that lived in my neighborhood, plotted out on each street. When I was in Fort Wayne in May, I stopped by the old neighborhood and snapped pictures of the houses where each one of my friend's lived. That one up there is the house where the Couch's lived.

In 1971, I made a lot of great friends at Indiana Village Elementary School. One in particular was Ericka Couch. We sat at table #6 (Miss Crouse's afternoon Kindergarten class) and I think we bonded because one of the other girl's who sat with us (her name was Smokey - I kid you not) - well she kind of scared us. We paired up out of fear - I guess there are worse things to start friendships over :).

Like me, Ericka was the oldest child with one sibling (her - younger brother Aaron, me - younger sister Patty).

We also happened to live in the same neighborhood - well kinda - as she was on the "outskirts" or what was known as Kyle Road. Not that I was allowed on Kyle Road at that age. It might as well have been Sandpoint Road as far as my parents were concerned. Crossing over to it was like asking for a car to hit you. Really. They were convinced that Kyle Road was a main thoroughfare, with wildly - out of control cars and trucks - that struck innocent children - dozens of them.

Another biggie: we also had staunch Catholic mothers and non-religious fathers.

But none of this came to light until one day when my mother dropped me off at school. Ericka's mom was there too. They introduced themselves based upon the fact that they had heard each other's daughter talk about the other (of course they never did know about the "fear" factor and they must have assumed we had gobs in common to bond so quickly).

Before we knew it, my mom (who had recently left her KMart job) and Ericka's mom, Selsa, had made this arrangement in which my mom would babysit Ericka and Aaron during the week. Selsa was an elementary school teacher at Ward Elementary and was looking for help with her two kids during the day. With me and Ericka becoming instant friends, this situation looked very perfect to our moms.

And I absolutely enjoyed having someone else aside from my sister to play with. Although Ericka wasn't really into Barbies, she was adventurous and would play in the ditch with me or on the swings and she was definitely a fan of Gilligan's Island and the Brady Bunch. And she's also the one that showed me how to climb trees. There was one at Scott's Court that was great climbing material - it was a cherry tree and many cherries were collected for pies from that tree...

But anyway - this friendship between our families was a big deal because as I've mentioned previously, my father was extremely racist. And the whole babysitting situation almost did not come to be...because Selsa wasn't white.

But she wasn't black. I'm saying this from the perspective of a six year old because when it came up in a discussion between my parents (of course I was listening - duh!) my dad flat out asked if Selsa was 'that word' which he always associated with non-white. That's when I learned that Selsa was born and raised in Taos, New Mexico and that she was married to Larry who was white. So even though my dad labeled this as an interracial marriage, the fact that Selsa wasn't black but "Mexican" must have been okay. I didn't understand the reasoning then (or even now) - I just know that this distinction is what made it okay for our families to socialize together.

20 Years Ago - Inspiration, Hope, and A Reason To Be Involved

2008-10-08T10:29:00.006-04:00

NOTE: I am live at the Indiana State Fair today - blogging about the Barack Obama Rally for Change. I'm including just a small portion of it here - just cause it really applies to what I write about on Child of the Fort.

For information on today's rally, check out Fort Wayne Politics later - where my stuff will appear.

This is my first time blogging about anything remotely political but after thinking things over, I felt strongly that not being here today would be a big miss on my part.

Back in my younger years, I was quite the activist. Maybe I wasn't as "radical" as people wanted me to be but in my own way, I stood up for what I believed in and I was all about stickin' it to 'da man'.

I did a lot of that as a student at IPFW. After flunking out of school (I stopped attending because - I don't know - I was bored, indifferent, caught up in teenage angst...)...I decided to go back and try to get serious.

One of the electives I signed up for was Introduction to Sociology. Yawn. Snoozer. I mean really - a frickin lecture class which was three hours in length on some weekday night (I'm thinking it was a Tuesday night).

I couldn't have been more wrong in my assessment of this class.

I had one of the best professors ever - Patrick Ashton. He made me think. He made me care. At whatever age I was 18-19? - I started thinking about things other than myself. Along with my classmates, we took a long, hard look at the world around us....our community...poverty....child abuse....other social injustices. And by golly - that professor guy, he lit a fire of passion in my belly. But not just mine - others were affected as well.

Just when I thought I was home free, he mentioned towards the end of the semester that the chancellor at that time (NOT Joanne Lantz) had not supported his application/petition - whatever it was - for tenure. Seems that that administrivia person thought that he spent too much time teaching and not enough time researching.

James Craig and I, who became friends because of this class, looked at each other. So did Ashton totally blow off his responsibility for research? We did our own research and the answer was NO. There was oodles. And oodles. Maybe he did 10 things and the norm was 12 but then he taught 2x the amount of classes (to underclassmen) as others up for tenure.

It just didn't seem fair.

And I was pissed.

So, naive as I was, I did something that literally changed the course of my life. James Craig and I stayed after class one night and put together a petition. We worked tirelessly for two weeks. There were at least 10,000 students at IPFW at that time and we were able to procure thousands of signatures. I can't remember how many off the top of my head but it was a HUGE number.

I know that we pretty much stunned the IPFW Administrivia team. We hand-delivered a copy of our petitions but then we took it a step further. We got in a car and drove to Bloomington to see President Tom Ehrlich.

He saw us too. We were give 15 minutes with him in which we explained what was going on, why we were very passionate about this professor and how we spent two weeks gathering the signatures of fellow students.

I don't know what happened after that - but the next thing I knew - that Chancellor was gone, Joanne Lantz was in place and Patrick Ashton was now a tenured associate? assistant? professor.

When I saw him (Professor Ashton) next semester, I wasn't thinking at all about what *I* did. I was beaming at him because he made a tremendous difference in my life. And what I did? Oh my - it was the very least I could do.

St. Therese Catholic School - Fifth Grade Class Photo

2008-10-01T20:26:00.000-04:00

St. Therese Catholic School
2222 Lower Huntington Road
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46809

Photo Credit: KFH
Date Taken: May 23, 2008

As I've told you in earlier blog postings, I switched over to St. Therese Catholic School during the second semester of my fourth grade year. When I went for an extended visit back home in May, I made sure to stop by the place and soak up the memories. More on that later.

Because I know y'all love class photos - here's one to whet your appetite. I think I did pretty good remembering most people but of course, correct me if you know something that I've forgotten...

P.S. if you want to see the larger sized view - go here - http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3050/2906218038_34f7c136a7_b.jpg

Row 1: Principal Sister ?, Miss (Christine) Majewski, Larry Cobb, Linda Tuttle, John Gannon, Debbie D?, Bobby Braun, Wendy Farmer

Row 2: Tom Mallot, Darlene Miller, Leo Cummings, Jeff Tourney, Terri Anderson, Gregg Jehl

Row 3: Nick ?, Alice Jordan, Phil Romary, Traci Olry, Jeremy Hensler, Dianne Miller, Doug Creech, Shannon Juza

Row 4: Kristina Frazier, Dorothy Bohn, Marlene Fremion, Tiena Spears, Mary Coffee, Marci Barnibee, Patty McClenahan

Anthony Wayne Bank - That's MY Bank

2008-09-20T19:10:00.005-04:00

Anthony Wayne Bank and Office Building
East Berry at Clinton Street
Fort Wayne, IN 46801

Photo: Virgil V. Marquart
(Approximate date of postcard - 1950's)

******************************

There was a career path that existed in Fort Wayne in the 80's.

Let me rewind and tell you how it went.

During high school, if you wanted a part-time job, one of your options (if you were lucky) was to work at Scott's or Rogers.

If you worked at Scott's or Rogers in high school, you started out as a cashier and if you were extremely lucky (aka - you kissed enough butt and you were good at what you did) you might just MIGHT have the opportunity to work in the "office" area.

The office was actually the spot where you took care of customers - cashing their payroll check, dispensing stamps, taking their utility bill payments. You also checked cashiers in and out, offered feedback to the head cashier about the people on the floor, and generally, you got to wreak havoc with peoples schedules (if you so desired).

The only time one of those coveted spots ever opened up (and mind you - they were only part-time) was if someone left. And people didn't leave unless they climbed to the next level of their career - a job as a bank teller at Lincoln National, Fort Wayne National, or Anthony Wayne Bank.

If you thought it was difficult getting a position at Scott's or Rogers, the jobs at the banks were nearly impossible. Usually, you had to be good friends with someone who already worked there or your parents had to be good friends with someone who was "someone" at the bank.

In 1985, I decided to apply for an opening at Anthony Wayne Bank. How did I know about it? I read about it in the Journal Gazette. There was a very modest sized ad in the help wanted area. Anthony Wayne Bank was looking for experienced cashiers to fill a part-time role in their downtown branch.

Downtown was always neat - but scary to me. Crowded...difficult to find a parking spot. The important types worked downtown. I wasn't sure that I would fit in. I sent in a resume and within two weeks, I was called by Human Resources. Could I come downtown for an interview and to complete the "required testing". Of course I could! I made sure to have my resume printed out on the nice, heavy, lightly colored parchment-type paper (3 copies - just in case) and I made sure that I took the day off from work and school so that everything could be perfect for my trip downtown.

I know exactly what I was wearing for my interview. I had on a just-below-the-knee, navy blue skirt (because everybody knows - navy blue is the color to wear to interviews), a nicely pressed white blouse with a feminine collar (and it complemented my face), and the icing on the cake was my blue patterned bow which brought my whole look together.

Side note: those of you who weren't my age in this era - no fair if you laugh. Believe me, you'll look back at what you were wearing when you were 18-19 and you will wonder...what the?!?!

The testing was SO easy. Let's see, I had to show I could add and subtract and divide and multiply. Woo Hoo! I also had to complete an application (which was four pages long) and which seemed to ask for the exact same information that my resume provided.

Side Note: Anyone else ever annoyed at how redundant all HR processes are?!

After the testing, I was ushered into a "waiting" room and I sat there for a good 30 minutes. HR came out, called me into one of their nice, windowed offices and just like that - they went into their list of questions.

Of course I was very charming but business-like and I could tell that the HR chick thought I was all that and a bag of chips.

Hmmmm.....I bet I had that job in the bag....

But no - she called me early afternoon and asked if I would be interested in a full-time teller position at one of their Freedom Branches (aka banks located in department stores). I calmly, but excitedly said YES! And the next day, I put on a similar interview outfit and made my way out to the Parkwest Shopping Center. Inside Heck's Department Store, I met up with the manager of that branch - Gloria.

Gloria was blond, pencil thin, harsh-looking, smoked like a chimney, and had one of those raspy voices. She wasn't very personable. In fact, I didn't think our interview went well at all. She was very monotone and offered me no feedback as she went through her list of questions.

An hour later though, I was offered the position.

I nabbed my first, full-time job and it was at Anthony Wayne Bank. The hours were squirly. I worked 11 am - 7:30 pm, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday; 2:30 pm -7:30 pm on Friday, and 8 am - 5 pm on Saturday. (Psssst....anything over 35 hours was considered "full time")

My starting salary was $16,100. I thought I was RICH.

Mr. Long, the President's Physical Fitness Award, Gym, Square Dancing

2008-09-17T00:01:00.001-04:00

Indian Village Elementary School
3835 Wenonah Lane
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46809

School Gymnasium
May 23, 2008

Photo by KFH

When I went home in May, I was lucky enough to be treated to a tour of my grade school, Indian Village Elementary.

I don't care what anyone says. Every place has a certain smell and my elementary school is no exception. The moment, I stepped inside those doors, I was immediately flooded with memories.

Yep - one whiff - and there I was.

While I was receiving my tour, the 5th grade was "graduating" in the school's gymnasium which is why you will see the remenants of celebratory items in some of my pictures.

Take for example - this thing.

This is a thing of torture - brought to you by our famous gym teacher, Mr. Long. It was always - and I mean always - the thing we could never avoid - especially if we wanted that President's Physical Fitness Award.

Side note: I really wish I had a picture of Mr. Long. I'm not going to do justice in describing him.

He had jet black hair...whistle, always around his neck. He wore blue-ish polyester-ish pants that always came up pretty high on his waist. He wore a polo-like shirt and white gym shoes. I'm not sure where he is today - retired I hope!

Oh and by the way - every year, I was one of those kids who received a President's Physical Fitness Award. Every kid who scored enough points received a certificate and official recognition in the auditorium (aka the gymnasium, aka the cafeteria).

Girls, you remember those light blue striped jumpers that we had to wear? Gosh - wish I had a picture of that...

And then - I swear - these are the exact, same, floor mats that were used when I went to this school. They smell the same. And for the record, I did not purposely sniff the mats - they just emitted a scent of sweat - 30 + years of sweat.

These look like the mats that Mr. Long would put under the balance beam or the horse. sigh I feel old thinkin' about gym at Indian Village Elementary.

I learned how to play kick ball here, tumble down a row of mats, balance on the "beam", jump over the horse, scooter my way down to one end to pick up the bean bag squares (and back), how to play basketball, what relay races were, and best of all - I learned how to square dance here.

That's right - square dancing.

You all remember? It was one of the first times that we were paired up with someone of the opposite sex. And better yet - we had to hold hands with them! My typical partners were (because I was so tall) - Errol Stech, Rodney Ryder, and also Barry Bender (he was a grade ahead of me).

Rogers Friendly Markets

2008-09-06T00:01:00.001-04:00

So - Rogers Friendly Markets - 'memba them? Not sure which year this ad is from but almost everything on the page looks familiar.

The milk cartoon - the light blue and white stripes - almost like I can reach out and touch 'em.

Old South Orange Juice - they still make that stuff?

And what year did they drop the "Posh" from "Puffs"?

Ads from Fort Wayne's Past

2008-09-05T00:01:00.001-04:00

1973: Tragedy on Sandhill

2008-09-04T00:01:00.002-04:00

Photo from ACPL CONTENTdm also found in the Journal Gazette, Sunday, April 15, 1973, Page 1A

I've shown you this map before. It's a map of my neighborhood and then some of the names of the families that lived in it during the time I was growing up there.

As I've mentioned in another blog entry, the kids in this neighborhood - well we spent the majority of our time outside. Nature was our playground. The ditches - the trees - the fields - and all other undiscovered territories were ours for the taking.

Something that may have been unique to our neighborhood - I'm not sure. Because each family had a ton of kids, the lines that separated who 'played' with whom was quite blurred. So in other words, I may have been in first grade, but it was socially acceptable for me to hang out with the fourth and fifth graders as long as I wasn't the only first grader in the bunch.

And that's because usually the fourth and fifth graders had younger brothers and sisters which they were obliged to entertain/keep an eye on so we were always in close proximity to one another during play time.

Another factor was that in the early 70's, we all went to the same school - Indian Village Elementary. For a period of time, it was K thru 6th grade, and we all rode the same school bus together.

In April 1973, we all had ants in our pants. We wanted Spring to arrive and the weather had been doing its usual Indiana thing. One day, it would be in the 30's and 40's, the next day it would hit the mid 60's. Once though it made it past 45 degrees, the kids in our neighborhood - well let's just say we were pretty famous for dumping our jackets and coats into a pile once out of the view of our parents. We didn't worry - they'd be in that stack before we returned home. Not like anyone was going to steal a jacket!

Friday, April 6 was a beaaaaaaaaaautiful day. I think it hit the mid 60's and when the bus let us off at our stop that afternoon, we were all about the weekend and playtime.

After walking through the door, kissing my mom hello and dropping off school related stuff, I immediately ran to the garage to pull out my light green, banana-seated bike with its tassels on the bars and the basket in the front. Where was I off to? I was meeting up with some of the kids at the corner of Cedar Crest and Pinecrest. We had some new, undiscovered territory to be charting.

There were mountains behind the houses on North Cedar Crest. Well, they looked like mountains to us. And not only were they great for climbing but they were also great for digging purposes. You could hide things in unusual places. You could even pretend to be an explorer, sandblasting a hidden cave, and finding a treasure that would make you really really rich. (Rich enough that you could buy Andy's gas station grocery store and you could eat all of the free candy you wanted.)

Delores Brouse who lived on Pinecrest was dubbed 'cool' for two reasons. First, she lived right next to one of the ditches and as I mentioned before - that automatically elevated your status in the neighborhood. Second, she was the resident expert about the mountains behind North Cedar Crest. Her dad worked for some construction place (later I found out it was Earth Construction and Engineering located on Engle Road) which was back in that same area, moving the piles of dirt around so that new buildings could be up.

So on that Friday, April 6, about a dozen of us kids set out to the "mountains". Our mission? It wasn't clear initially but within the first ten minutes of being up there, someone threw out the idea of building a 'fort'.

Forts are kind of a big deal to kids. We built them in our bedrooms with blankets and comforters hanging over chairs and tables...we used our toys to stack up walls of protection...I think you get the drift.

So on this fort thing - it wasn't an organized - everyone do a job and create one fort. We broke into smaller groups (without thinking about it), and we proceeded to do our own things. It was a ton of fun. The dirt that made up the mountains was pretty different from the dirt in our own backyard. In our backyard, dirt was pretty hard - and clay like. This dirt was more sandy but had enough strength that we could make it pack together.

When I went home that night, my dad was pissed at me. And he even yelled at my mom. I was dirty, but that wasn't the issue. He was angry that I was up in the "Sand Hill" area. He said it was too dangerous and I was not to go up there again. I even got the belt that night.

Some other kids must have gotten in trouble too because attendance (so I heard) at Saturday's festivities, dropped off. I remember riding my bike with Colleen Wooden, around the circle (i.e. Cedar Crest, Pine Crest, Cedar Crest) and wondering if there was any possible way we'd get in trouble if we just sat in the back yard of of one of the kids who had a house that butted up against the mountain area.

But, we were soon distracted and we ended up hanging out with the Beckstedt boys, playing in their ditch (they also owned prime real estate!).

And soon the whole mountain thing passed from my brain because one thing that I did not do was cross my father (on purpose).

A week later, on Saturday, April 14, there was a knock on our door. A policeman and two neighbors came into our house and I don't think that I've ever been so scared in my life. All I could think of was that I was under arrest (but for what - I wasn't sure). It was cartoon day - that really messes with your brain when someone like a policeman is standing in front of Scooby Doo.

They went in another room with my parents. I couldn't quite make out what was said. But then, I was called in.

insert dramatic music.

My mom, who looked as white as a ghost, called me over.

Kris. You aren't in any trouble. The police are going from house to house in the neighborhood to talk to the kids who played with Delores Brouse up on Sandhill over the past couple of weeks.

I think all of the blood drained out of my body.

They have some questions - can you just answer them. You aren't in trouble. It's important you tell them everything you know and don't worry about being in trouble with me and dad.

Well gee - I better not get in trouble because I had not been back to the mountains since the belt!

So the policeman asked me questions like - what did we do when we were up there? We were building forts. And did I know the location of the forts? Yes, they were up in the mountains. Sorry, I just thought that was funny...adults can be so confusing to kids. He specifically wanted to know - did I know which fort Delores had been working on and where it was located on the mountains?

I did and I drew them my own version of the map. Delores and her 'team' had the more elaborate fort. I think that is because they were "older" and had more experience at this fort building thing.

After my map, my dad and I and the policeman and one of the neighbor men, rode over to the moutain area. There were fire trucks and bulldozers and lots of other things that I'd never seen before. Neighbors, kids, policeman, fireman, other folks were there - tons of people.

It seems that we were all confirming (the kids involved), where the fort was. And why did anyone care? I guess that Delores was missing.

Missing? The first thing I said was, maybe she went home to go to the bathroom. That just tells you how naive I was.

My dad took me home and my Saturday went on, pretty much as normal but me and my sister were not allowed to go outside. My mother thought that it was too chaotic.

Later that day (around supper time), the Davis's (they lived next door to the Brouse's), came over and told us that Delores had been found. She was dead. She had been up on the mountains, playing with two other kids and because the dirt was so sandy, it had collapsed and she had fallen into an area that was hollowed out from fort building. Dirt covered her and she suffocated. She could not get out. They say she had tried, but she couldn't gain enough traction.

Delores Irene Brouse was 12 years old and in fifth grade at Indian Village Elementary School.

It was the first major death in my life that I ever had to deal with. For several nights, I would wake-up, trying to catch my breath because I was dreaming that I was suffocating.

When I went back to Fort Wayne in May, I went by the area - the first time ever - and thought back through the events of April 1973. The area is well developed with tons of roads and established businesses. It wasn't difficult though, for me to look down at the houses on North Cedar Crest and then to quickly visualize where our mountains were and where specifically the forts were built.

I was sad, of course, but then, I thought about how thankful I was that my dad did what he did. Not that I advocate the use of a belt :) but he got his point across to me. And literally, it probably saved my life.

Glenbrook Center - We Build Highways For You and Route 30 Sucks

2008-09-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

So when I was at the library last week, I was specifically looking for my birth announcement (cause you know - I wanted to make sure that it really happened like my parents said it did ;)).

As I flipped through reels and reels of microfilm, I stumbled upon this advertisement (October 1966) which just made me giggle.

Whomever wrote this - my hat is off to you. There's nothing like truth in advertising....

September 1983 - The City Spins Around

2008-09-02T00:01:00.001-04:00

My parents split up near the end of 7th grade. It had been coming for awhile, we could all feel it. And divorces in 1979 were getting to be quite popular so it's not like we were any more or less special than the next family.

Unfortunately, the next four years of my life were some of the worst I ever experienced. Or maybe I should say - the worst that those around me ever experienced.

I didn't know how to deal with the split up of my parents. I was the first born - the responsible one. But also the one who was to blame. Or so I was told (over and over again).

During 1982 and 1983, I attended five high schools. One of them twice. I was shipped from one parent to another - from one relative to another. No one knew what to do with me. I had closed up on the inside and I couldn't express what was going on internally. I was frozen from the inside out.

And then, one tragic, awful situation, unleashed the anger and sadness and betrayal that lived inside of me.

I didn't know the Osbornes. I don't even recall reading anything with Dan Osborne's name on it.

It was all over the news. The paper. The television. It was all anyone could talk about. Me, I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted people to stop talking about it. It was annoying. Wasn't there anything else to talk about?

And then one day, I saw a picture of her - Caroline Osborne - only for a few seconds. The news articles - the television reports - all of the details came flooding at me at once.

Caroline was 2.
Caroline was sexually assaulted.
Caroline was meant to die.
Caroline wandered around her home for two days - seeing her dead family and not understanding.

And after not being able to display emotions for what seemed like years, I broke down. I don't mean cried - I mean for four hours, my body shook and trembled like never before (and as I type this, the memories are right there - so close to the surface).

I was so angry.

At God. I hated him with every bit of life inside of me. He was cruel and mean and I would never forgive him for all of this bad stuff - my parents, me, Caroline Osborne, her family. He was no God of mine. I had been a hypocrite for so many years. Just pray. Just believe. Yeah. Right. And watch the evil world win because that's how it works. You get to be dumb and stupid and a believer while everyone else is winning.

At my mom. She ran away - she didn't defend us. She didn't protect me. She lied to me. Many times. I trusted her. She hijacked my trust and left me feeling like I had no one.

At my dad. He couldn't keep it together. He had to blame a 12 year old kid for his failures. He couldn't control his anger. He was a coward. He abandoned his family.

At my friends. They didn't understand me. They didn't want to see me for me - they only wanted to see me for what I had been before. Smart. Strong. The leader.

I needed someone. I had no one. In many ways, I felt like little Caroline Osborne...wandering around, battered, bruised, confused, but too naive to understand how the situation came to be. And all I wanted was for everything to be the way it was before it got all messed up. I wanted my life back. I wanted my family back. I wanted my neighborhood back. I wanted my friends back. I wanted some semblence of normalacy and happiness back.

Only, it was never going to happen. Nothing was reversible. I was 16 - and the world sucked in a way that made me not want to live. The pain just seemed to be endless. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it another day.

Fort Wayne Yearbook Pictures

2008-09-01T11:40:00.005-04:00

FYI - I've been posting pictures from (Fort Wayne yearbooks) into my flickr account. If you see somebody you know - they're on my list to write about here.

Also, I copied a couple of pictures from Central Catholic and Central High School and they are posted in the same spot. My mom went to Central Catholic (1963-1965) and my grandpa went to Central (1938-1940). They're group photos so you might find a parent or other relative hidden within one. If you do - let me know!

Movies - Inside and Outside - 1976

2008-09-01T00:01:00.004-04:00

I believe this is from the July 1976 newspaper. I pulled it out for all of you old folks who remember that Fort Wayne used to have multiple movie theaters that weren't located just in two places (i.e. Jefferson Pointe and Pine Valley).

Theaters listed:
Holiday 1 & 2
Georgetown
Village
Rialto (yeah baby!)
Southtown
Northwood
Fort Wayne/Bluffton Road Drive-In
Hillcrest Drive-In
Lincolndale Drive-In
East 30 Drive-In

As my husband commented, the movies playing at the Hillcrest Drive-In were nothing but a bunch of T&A.

I, of course, remember my parents dragging us to stuff like this (in our great ole big green van which had curtains separating the front seats from the back area). When the tits came flying out, usually the curtains were closed and we were expected to be "sleeping".

Uh huh. Right. We were sleeping.

And don't forget to notice the ads for the Moonraker, the Wharf, and Hacienda.

St. Therese Catholic School, Fourth Grade, Mr. Wunderlin, and Gregg Jehl

2008-08-31T00:01:00.003-04:00

As I've mentioned before, when the second semester of 4th grade rolled around, my mother had us moved over to St. Therese Catholic School.

I don't know exactly why - it's on my list to ask my mom about one of these days. I know it wasn't because of Mrs. Crowley or anything going on at Indian Village. I'm guessing that her Catholic conscious got to her...but who knows...You would think that the weekly CCD classes would have been enough for her but noooooooooooo.

Going from Indian Village to St. Therese was quite a change for me. At Indian Village, you would have multiple teachers and classrooms for each grade. Here, there was one classroom and one teacher for each grade. Also, there was no cafeteria. You ate your hot/cold packs in your room at your desk.

My first teacher (which was in fourth grade) at St. Therese was Mr. Bill Wunderlin.

What can I say about Mr. Wunderlin? I wish I had a picture of him to show you because it would speak better to him than I ever could.

He was a tall (but not too tall), thin man, who almost seemed out of place at my catholic grade school. He was friendly - but quiet. He was a man fond of routine, stability, and discipline.

Every afternoon, as we were preparing for the end of the school day bell to ring, he would put on his overcoat and reach for his black, pointy, tall umbrella. There was a hat also somewhere in this equation however, not once did I see him put it on while in the building (a sign of respect - I'm sure).

Mr. Wunderlin was passionate about two things. First, he was really into local theater. I don't know if he was an actor or a behind the scenes guy. I just know that lots of his free time was spent doing theater stuff. Second, there were these cloth banners he used to design and sew for the church. They were colorful, meaningful, and just generally stunning.

I have a confession to make. Mr. Wunderlin was the first teacher to ever indulge me re: one of my classroom crushes.

Let me explain.

Every so often, Mr. Wunderlin would rearrange our desks. I'm sure this was a way for him to keep us on our toes.

How would he decide who would sit where?

That's where the class came into the picture. He gave each one of us a grid to complete. Our job was to take all of the names of the kids in the class and place them in an order that we thought was "good" or "right".

So, when I completed my grid, I put myself next to the hunkiest guy in the room (Gregg Jehl). I put my friend Tiena Spears close by, along with the guy she was "going steady" with - Bobby Braun.

Gregg was blond, athletic in a baseball kind of way, and just hot (for your typical fourth grader that is). I wasn't usually into blond guys (Tom Stinson - my crush at Indian Village - brunette all the way) so I attribute this to turning over a new leaf. A catholic school leaf I guess.

I put my on-again/off-again good friend/arch-enemy Alice Jordan - in the opposite corner, next to the goobers (who shall remain nameless - because they may be reading this and they may not be goobers anymore).

I remember - just like it was yesterday - when Mr. Wunderlin picked my grid as the floor plan for our new desk arrangements.

Inside, I was all lit up. Outside, I pretended to protest - just like everyone else.

You see, when Mr. Wunderlin selected a student's grid, he would never share with the class, whose grid it was. Not like I was going to volunteer that information. No sireeee... I was fairly new at the school and I had no intention of making enemies out of everyone in this one room class.

Photo: Taken October 1977. Four fourth grade friends out at recess, on the playground of St. Therese Catholic School. Old church which has now been demolished, sits in the background.

(Back and left to right) Mary Coffee, Kristina Frazier, Theresa Dodane. (Front and center) Alice Jordan.

Patty, Reading Readiness, and Mrs. Ann Ballinger

2008-08-30T18:16:00.001-04:00

My sister Patty - Patricia Joanne Frazier - was born approximately 11 months after me (September 13, 1967).

Patty Jo - well - we were (and are) two totally different beings. Her - with her blond hair and blue eyes - me with my reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. She was petite. I was tall. She was artistic. I was "bookish". We shared a room for many years and let me tell you - that was both a curse and a blessing (but more on that later).

For her half-day of Kindergarten, Patty had Miss Crouse (soon to be Mrs. Ludwig). I made the assumption that when Patty moved to first grade, she would have Mrs. Lawson too (like I had). But when we went to pick up our information packets from school, I learned that she was going to be in Ms. Ballinger's class.

As a seven year old, I knew three things about Mrs. Ballinger. First, she was a tall, thin lady with dark dark hair. Second, her classroom was all the way over there and she didn't have as many students as some of the other teachers. Third, the woman was obsessed with bears. As in the stuffed kind.

When I scanned the information directory (a black, felt board, encased in class, located right inside the front entrance), it said that Mrs. Ballinger was a "Reading Readiness" teacher.

Huh? Reading Readiness?! Yep. It was explained to me that this was a grade which was between Kindergarten and First Grade where kids who had difficulty with some of the basics - phonics, reading, etc...were placed so that they could have an extra year of intensive attention dedicated to bringing them up to snuff.

My sister thrived in Reading Readiness. Mrs. Ballinger was just what she needed.

Through the extra and intensive 1:1 time with her teacher, we learned that she had dyslexia (although I'm not sure if in the early 70's - they called it that).

In addition, Mrs. Ballinger figured out that my sister was an artist and she somehow facilitated an opportunity for my sister to gain additional instruction through the Fort Wayne Arts School. It must have been free because there would have been no way that my family could have afforded to pay for it.

Two days a week, my mother would drive my sister over to the school (I think it was Wednesday after school and Saturday mornings). The building pictured here was a familiar site for me as I always had to ride along.

Truth be told, I was a little jealous that my sister was getting all of this attention. I couldn't even color within the lines and here she was, whipping out these masterpieces which were oooooed and awwwweeeedddd by adults everywhere.

Even today, I am still completely envious of how she can hand sketch a mural on the bedroom wall of one of her kid's room's. The results are always beautiful and I curse the heavens for not blessing me with the same talent. And just to be clear - I can now color within the lines...I just choose NOT TO :).

When I went back to Indian Village in May 2008 to visit, I learned that Mrs. Ballinger had passed away in 2003. When the school underwent remodeling, they created a mural to honor her.

As I looked at it, I smiled. And then I thought about my sister. She was incredibly lucky to be in a school system which recongized that she needed extra assistance before entering first grade. And then, to have a special teacher like Ann Ballinger - that was the icing on the cake. That woman was far ahead of her time. Her individualized approach to solving the challenge of - why is this child having difficulty reading was just so rare. The impact she made on students like my sister - that's a legacy we'd be all lucky to leave behind.

**********************************************

ANN D. BALLINGER, 74, of Fort Wayne, died Monday, Dec. 1, 2003, at Lutheran Hospital. Born Aug. 22, 1929, in Logansport, she was a 1951 graduate of Ball State with a Masters degree from St. Francis University. Mrs. Ballinger was a Fort Wayne Community Schools teacher, who taught for 40 years, retiring in 2000. She began teaching in New Castle, in 1951, and moved to Fort Wayne, in 1952. She taught at Old Lakeside Elementary, Ward Elementary, Lafayette Center Elementary, Waynedale Elementary and Indian Village Elementary . She was Secretary for the American Association of University Women, Secretary of the Fort Wayne Womens Club, a member of the Local, State and National Reading Associations, Local, State and National Retired Teachers Associations, Coordinator of Project Read at Indian Village School, and a member of Phi Delta Kappa Educational Fraternity. She is survived by her husband, Norman H. Ballinger of Fort Wayne; sons, John S. Ballinger of Fort Wayne, Steven K. Ballinger of San Francisco, Calif.; granddaughter, Lauren Ballinger, of San Francisco; and brother, William Reutebuch of Chicago. Private service is Friday at Klaehn, Fahl & Melton Winchester Road Chapel, 6424 Winchester Road, with visitation from 2 to 4 and 6 to 8 p.m. Thursday. Memorials to Project Read at Indian Village School.

S.R.A.

2008-08-29T15:43:00.003-04:00

Oh boy - anybody freaked out by the title of my blog entry today?!

I bet that most of you forgot about those three little letters S.R.A.

For those of you kids who are oblivious to the acronymn - S.R.A. = Science Research Associates.

In the elementary years of FWCS in the 70's, this was apparently one of the successful methods to reinforce and/or test on concepts that were taught in the classroom.

Yep - kind of like our own version of the ISTEP.

Do you all remember the special desk cubbies that were in the library? They were hooked up with "audio" which consisted of some SRA exercise, big ole headphones (kinda like these) and a book which looked like this.

They would play the SRA exercise on some tape player and the sophisticated audio system would beam it out to the 4-6 of us who would be sitting in these cubby desks, listening intently to every word of the speaker. Then, we would have to answer questions or write something down in our little SRA books about the listening exercise.

Extending the Spirit and Vision of Fort Wayne's Parks - Boundless Playground

2008-08-25T00:01:00.002-04:00

Psi Ote Park
Wennonah Lane
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46809

Date of Photo: May 23, 2008

If you're a regular reader, then you know that the parks of Fort Wayne played a huge role in my childhood. Reservoir, Lawton, McMillen, McCulloch, Swinney, Foster, Psi Ote, Franke, Lakeside....each one unique but focused on delivering on the original spirit and vision set forth by Colonial Foster.
I'm not a world traveler by any means however, I have seen my own fair share of parks and there isn't a better park system in the world. You all got it - right in Fort Wayne.

Just two days ago, Mayor Henry and Parks Director Moll, kicked off a campaign which is very near and dear to my heart.

Here's the press release

This isn't just another park. Nor is this just a run-of-the-mill fundraising effort.

Taylor Reuille, an 11 year old (and 5th grader at Harlan Elementary School), has been the driving force behind this effort.

"I am raising money to build a Boundless Playground® for kids of ALL abilities. There are thousands of kids in Allen County with disabilities which include not only those who are in wheelchairs but also kids who are hearing impaired, visually impaired, and those with other disabilities such as Down Syndrome and Autism.

Most of these kids are not able to play at a regular playground because the playgrounds do not accommodate their needs. If children with disabilities are not able to play at a playground, then why should I or other children who don't have disabilities be able to play?

Currently, there is not a single Boundless Playground® in the entire state of Indiana. Children of all ages and all abilities need to laugh and have fun. I am asking for your help to make this happen."

More "Signs" From Fort Wayne's Past

2008-08-24T00:01:00.015-04:00

See if you can recognize any of these famous signs which I plucked out of the middle of pictures from the ACPL CONTENTdm library.

Did your folks ever buy any appliances from Stucky's?
*********************

And what about the First Federal Bank sign?
Do you remember where it was?
*******************************************
Did you know that Sears & Roebuck used to be downtown - right next to Fort Wayne National Bank...until they moved to their location on Rudisill?
*************************************************
Do you remember walking down the street, past the gold/bronzed presence of the Indiana and Michigan Electric Company?
*************************************************
And while you were downtown shopping, did you stop in at El Chicano for some lunch? It was a great start before you headed a little further down the street to the ice cream shop.

Advertisements of the Past

2008-08-23T22:00:00.000-04:00

Okay - more for those of you who seem to like this stuff. And yes, I know I already included an Ayr-way before but hey - this one has The Fonz on it!!!

R. Nelson Snider

2008-08-22T01:49:00.002-04:00

R. Nelson Snider
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

Snider High School was just one of those high schools on the north side for those snooty kids ;).

At one time, I know it was called R. Nelson Snider but at some point, people just started referring to it as Snider. Maybe they still do - maybe they don't - I'm just tellin' you how it was in my day.

As often the case, Snider was named after somebody significant in Fort Wayne's history - Mr. R. Nelson Snider himself. Until recently, I really didn't know anything about him.

And then, I came across this picture of him. It's from the South Side Totem Yearbook (1927). He was Principal there and kind of a hottie in his day!

So I wanted to find out more about him.

The first place I went - logically - was to the school (R. Nelson Snider) web page.

How sad. Not one mention of him. Although you could click on a link to find out who your legislators are. And they're redoing the web site so there's also a page dedicated to the "Web Design Team".

Kinda shabby that they wouldn't even talk about the history of their high school. Hope that doesn't mean that they are getting ready to rename it.

I did find out at least something at Wikipedia.

"The first high school built by Fort Wayne Community Schools in forty years, R. Nelson Snider High School, named for an outstanding educator, opened in the fall of 1964 with three hundred twenty-five sophomores, twenty faculty members, four administrators, and one secretary.

In April 1966, the students and staff moved into the present facility after having shared Lane Middle School. This building has been renovated twice since then, the latest having been completed in 1982.

There is an area of ten acres of building on a forty-acre complex housing more than two thousand students in grades nine through twelve. Part of the complex includes five tennis courts, a freshman and junior varsity football game field, a softball field, a soccer field, and an all-weather track. There are sixty-nine classrooms, a metal and welding shop, a wood shop, a main gym, an auxiliary gym, a wrestling room, a wellness center, tiered lecture room, three darkrooms, a foreign language cafe, a complete television studio, an auditorium, science laboratories, a cafeteria seating over five hundred, a five hundred-car parking lot, a suite of guidance and athletic offices, a main office, a student services office, an attendance office, and a media center which encompasses approximately 16,000 books and periodicals, 1800 non-print media items, and a 32-station networked computer lab in addition to several stand-alone computer work stations with access to electronic data bases.

In December 1995, the staff voted to restructure the educational day to the 4x4 block format. The 4x4 scheduling format at R. Nelson Snider High School has students taking just four classes every day. There is more time for instruction and learning, with less time used for getting to and from classes and for classroom management. This productive use of school time translates into potential for additional labs, field trips, interdisciplinary activities and intense focus on subject matter.

In 2006 or 2007, a cell phone tower will be built on Snider's grounds. Snider will receive a monetary payment for the tower, and has yet to decide what the money will go towards. As part of the contract, Snider will not be able to use the money towards scholarships."

Huh - not much about the man (one sentence) but now I know about a cell phone tower!

I had to go to non-internet resources to find out about R. Nelson Snider.

1) He was Principal at South Side for 37 years. WOW!!!

2) That "R" - that stood for "Roy".

3) He died in 1976 and is buried in Lindenwood Cemetery.

4) His father was a farmer.

5) He was a Director for the YMCA.

6) He was on the Anthony Wayne Area Council of Boy Scouts.

7) Fort Wayne Education Foundation (now "Questa") credits its roots to R. He was a lender of money to students who wanted to pursue higher education.

Yep. There's more. But maybe those folks over at his name sake high school will complete the story.

Oh and P.S. - they might want to mention the guy that architected their building - John Davis Martindale.

A Little Fort Wayne Nostalgia

2008-08-18T22:59:00.005-04:00

It's always great to come across these gems....Hope they bring a smile to your face.

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Significance of Scott's Court

2008-08-17T12:53:00.010-04:00

Picture of Scott's Court
4700 block of Cedar Crest Circle
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46809

Date Taken: May 25, 2008
Credit: Me

What was there to do on Cedar Crest Circle?

This was before VG (Video Games). Another big thing - the residents of this neighborhood were folks with limited incomes. For the most part (if they were employed) - they were blue collar workers (i.e. factories and construction) or worked in retail. And I say 'if' because the 70's were riddled with unemployment challenges in Fort Wayne.

The "outdoors" was our entertainment.

It didn't matter how old of a kid you were - you spent a great deal of time outdoors. Yes, even if it was colder than crap and hotter than hell.

There were certain activities that became engrained in our neighborhood culture. Scott's Court (and if anyone can ever figure out for me why it's called that and who really owns this piece of land, I would be forever indebted to you) was a grassy area where we played red rover, tag, picked cherries from the cherry tree, and most importantly, it was the entry to the best ditch in the neighborhood.

I kid you not. Let me back track a little bit.

If you were a kid with a ditch next to your house - you were high up in the neighborhood pecking order. Oh yes. Now this particular ditch wasn't next to my house - it was across the street and down three houses. Still, very close in proximity and what made it even more special is that the folks who lived on either side of it had NO kids so you know...possession is like 9/10's of the law.

This was my ditch.

In the 70's, the City of Fort Wayne (or maybe it was the county - who knows...) came out and re-did all of the ditches in our neighborhood. Those silvery shells created quite the opening. Inside, you could find all sorts of treasures. Rocks that looked like gemstones. Tadpoles. Lots of 'em.

In this picture, the ditch-area is grown over with grass, but in my day, it was more rocks and water than anything else.

Side note: I came thisclose to crawling inside of this just to get a picture of what it looks like now but thought that perhaps someone might see me and then how would I explain why a middle-aged chick was crawling into the ditch? Well officer, I have this blog and....

This ditch was also the place where I had my first fist fight. You see, I was in sixth grade, and Rhonda and Rene Swanigan had moved into our neighborhood. Although they lived on Pinecrest (which was the straight street that separated each side of Cedar Crest Circle), they felt the need to assert (or try to) their authority in the neighborhood. I hated them. They were the same ages as me (Rhonda) and my sister (Rene).

I know it can be really tough moving into an 'established' neighboorhood. We didn't take too kindly to outsiders. We even were known for singing Help Me Rhonda whenever we talked about Rhonda. Hey - that's just the way it was. Everyone had a nickname or a song that was sung about them - new kid or otherwise.

One day while riding bikes, we (a handful of miscellaneous kids) paused at Scott's Court. Rhonda and Rene decided to stop and taunt my sister Patty.

Why? What was said? Couldn't tell you. All I know is that when I told her to take it back and leave Patty alone, she got off of her banana-seated bike and asked me what I was gonna do about it.

So I pushed her. She pushed back. I hated her. And it felt good to pull her blonde roots out.

And the fists started flying. We ended up rolling around on Scott's Court and then fell into the ditch where we continued to punch the crap out of each other.

Kathy Boice (an older chick in the neighborhood) must have been alerted to the fight by her sister Jackie. She came over with her boyfriend Tom, and broke it up.

I didn't cry until I got home. I wasn't crying because I was hurt. I had just had my brackets put on by Dr. Ingleman that morning and I knew my parents would be ticked if any of them had fallen off...

Lucky me...all were intact.

But Rhonda and Rene - well - we never were able to bond with them. Not that we tried or anything...

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Kids

2008-08-13T06:00:00.000-04:00

Like my map?

This is my childhood neighborhood. I randomly went through and put the names of the families and approximated where they lived. I know I missed some. I asked my buddy Carl ahem to validate things but he must be too busy - off being the neighborhood association President or something ;).

I showed this to my sister. She was pretty amazed that I remembered all of these people. We argued over the spelling of the "Manter's". She thought it was "Manners". I was right. She was wrong. Insert smart aleck remark here: I am so much smarter than my sister - nah nah nah nah nah nah.

Is it obvious yet that I had a great love for the neighborhood that I grew up in? I was only here for seven years of my life yet those seven years were extremely important. It's where I learned a lot about human behavior.

I learned how to play with others.

I learned that taking risks sometimes meant reward and sometimes equaled negative consequences.

I learned how to negotiate, how to stand up for myself, and what it meant to stand behind friends (and my sister too).

I learned that death happens. And more frequently than it should. This includes people, pets, and plants.

I learned that hard work = some positive payoff...whether that was an allowance (25 cents - thank you very much), a good grade, or an extra privilege.

I learned where the boundaries were with friends, their parents, and my own parents. I came to understand what was socially acceptable and what was better left unsaid.

I learned that a good imagination was better than a million barbie dolls (and associated accessories).

I learned that boys were cute, smelly, annoying, and a must-have at certain times of your life.

I learned that sometimes, no matter what you look like, people will always make fun of you.

I learned that adults were just as vulnerable as kids - they were older, a bit wiser, but really didn't have stuff all figured out.

Other stuff too I learned - but for now, that's a good enough list.

So back to the kids of my neighborhood....

It's amazing that thirty-some years later, I can still remember almost all of the families in my neighborhood but ask me what happened five years ago, or even two days ago, and that takes a lot of effort...

Here's who they are - I swear - if any of them are reading this and I have butchered their names or called them 'suzie' when they were really 'tommie', I will feel mortified (so apologies ahead of time - and please correct me).

Manter - David, Tricia, Holly, Lisa

Davis - Debbie, Denita, Shawn

Asher - Steven, Dennis

Boice - Carl Jr., Kathy, Jackie, Kurt, Steve

Beckstedt - Philip, Mark, Joe

Kump - Lorrianne, Cindy

Brouse - Delores

VanPelt - Brad

Stech - Errol, Kenny

Crane - Floyd, Robbie

Grimes - Kevin, Mark, Michelle

Debit - Monica, Michelle

Wooden - Brian, Colleen

Couch - Erika, Aaron

Bobilya - Shonee, Stacy

Rice - Brian, Greg

Vachon - Dave

Swanigan - Rhonda, Rene, Faron

Smith - Janice

Marshall - Tom

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Houses

2008-08-10T14:35:00.008-04:00

In 1971, we moved into our first house. I think the house was built sometime in the early 50's and it was about 800 sq. ft. There were three bedrooms, a living room, one bathroom, and a kitchen.

Our driveway had gravel (I'm assuming from May Stone and Sand).

Our one car garage was detached from the house and sat to the left side and back of it. No remote opening. You had to jimmie the silver, metal handle (pull upwards) and then, pull up on the door. Reverse that to close your garage door.

When we moved in, we had no carpet, only a bathtub in the bathroom (no shower), no fenced in back yard, and no central air (unless opening up your window and letting the breeze in counted!)

Everything - yes everything - we had from a home furnishing and home appliance perspective was used/passed down. Our clothes were too.

But you know, I was none the wiser. I thought everyone lived like this.

I look back and wonder, how the heck did the four of us (then the fifth with my brother Jason), manage to co-exist in such a small amount of space - 800 SQUARE FEET?!

I don't have many pictures of my house from that time period so I've pulled together what I can in order to put the neighborhood into a socio-economic context.

This house (below) is on my street. I specifically took this picture during my trip home in May 2008 because the house for the most part, is unchanged since 1971 and it was very typical of what all of the other houses looked like on the street - especially the location of windows and color of the siding.

All of the houses pretty much looked the same. Very square. Very boxy. The siding colors were all neutral - 10 different shades of grey, some white, a few light tan. Not much different from the the shades my husband and I saw when we were looking to build our own home in the 90's.

The windows were located up high - I guess so that people couldn't peak into your windows to see what you were doing.

The windows were secured internally by a flip, sliding metal latch. Extreme hot or cold made the suckers hard to navigate. And sometimes, if you didn't have screens on the outside of your window, and you left your window open to take advantage of that cool breeze, a bird was liable to fly in.

On the positive side, it was a good sized window for a room air conditioner - although you had to stand on a chair (with help from others) to get the pup in there. To be safe, someone needed to be on the outside to make sure that you didn't push the air conditioner out the window either :).

The house layouts were also identical.

I already posted a picture in a previous blog entry - of one of bedrooms. But here it is again. This was the "master bedroom" and at different periods of our lives, my sister and I shared this room as our bedroom.

See - no carpet - just hard, cement, tiled floor. There were two other smaller bedrooms - both not carpeted. All the bedrooms were clustered together to one side of the house (in our case - right side and back).

Our kitchen was tiny - but not that I noticed it at that time.

In the picture is my cousin Cindy (the birthday girl), me, and a distant cousin, Sherry. We're at the kitchen table. The dryer is in the corner, the back door to the right of that. What you don't see is - to the right of that, was the washer and the sink (no dishwasher - none except us kids!). The pantry was in the hallway and the refrigerator straddled the kitchen area and the hallway. To the left of that was the stove.

Get all that? I think it was about 150 sq ft. Tiny, tiny, tiny. But me? I really didn't know that at the time.

And did you catch the Scot Lad Brands?! On my flickr account, you can see a HUGE close-up on this particular picture (2241 x 1525). Go ahead. It'll crack you up.

This is a picture of me and my cousin Cindy, in our backyard after my First Communion. Like my dress? My grandma bought it secondhand somewhere and it was passed on to my sister Patty and my two cousins, Cindy and Wendy to wear during their First Communion's.

We had family over for a reception in our backyard. Our backyards were pretty big. My mom used to hang laundry out on the clothesline which she put up behind our one car garage.

In the back of us (this picture) is our neighbor's house. It looked just like ours and everyone elses. One car garage (always detached from the house), windows placed up really high...Look closely, and you can see their clothesline.

It's amazing to think back on this time in my life. I was so oblivious to what I didn't have. But gosh, I sure knew what I had and I appreciated it a lot.

Sidenote: I specifically listened to songs from the 70's (maybe some were from the 60's too?) while I was writing this and I was amazed how freely the memories flowed. I could literally reach out and touch them :).

Go All the Way - The Raspberries
Fooled Around and Fell in Love - Elvin Bishop
Delta Dawn - Helen Reddy
Baker Street - Gerry Rafferty
Rocky Mountain Way - Joe Walsh
When Will I See You Again - The Three Degrees
Drift Away - Dobie Gray
Mr. Bojangles - The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Me and You and a Dog Named Boo - Lobo
Love Hurts - Nazareth
Always and Forever - Heat Wave
Rhinestone Cowboy - Glen Campbell
Thunder Island - Jay Ferguson
One Toke Over the Line - Brewer and Shipley
Rockin' Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu - Johnny Rivers
Undercover Angel - Alan O'Day
You're Sixteen, You're Beautiful, and You're Mine - Ringo Starr
Long Cool Woman - The Hollies
Day Afer Day - Badfinger

1971 - The House on Cedar Crest Circle

2008-08-09T23:59:00.000-04:00

I was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana, October 12, 1966 at Parkview Memorial Hospital (aka The Baby Barn).

My first home was at 808 Clay Street - an apartment building owned by Clyde Briggs and managed by my grandparents (Wayne Roy & Irene Roy).

When I was about 4, my parents rented a house in Ossian.

When I was 5, they took the plunge and purchased their first home in Waynedale - 4719 W Cedar Crest Circle.

I asked my mother last weekend - what in the world led us to the house on Cedar Crest? Seems that my dad had a drinking buddy - Howard Davis - and Howard's brother-in-law had just put his house up for sale (coincidentally - right behind Howard's). My mom felt strongly that we needed to put some roots down before I started Kindergarten.

And that's how we came to the house on Cedar Crest Circle.

My earliest memory of the house isn't the actual house, but the driveway. It was January and cold. I think we had a Ford Torino (red) and while my parents were in the house looking around with the realtor, I was sitting in the backseat with my grandma.

My feet were frozen, and she had me take off my boots so that she could warm up my feet with her hands. I remember laying my head on her shoulders and telling her that she was the nicest grandma in the entire universe.

I'm not sure I knew what a universe was - but I had the nicest grandma in the world - for sure.

On Broadway

2008-08-05T00:01:00.000-04:00

When I was a little kid, Broadway Street was the corridor to the Waynedale area.

Yep - that's right - that street - which used to be one of the most famous (not to mention historical and notorious) streets of Fort Wayne - was the path that we Waynedale peeps took into the downtown area.

As a car passenger, Broadway was like a familiar, yet undiscovered country for me. Turning left (from Bluffton Road) was like getting a history lesson in less than 15 minutes. Businesses (small and mom and pop types) were scattered in between the close-knit, early 1900's and post-world war I neighborhoods.

There was always General Electric - massive - larger than live - a presence that was in essence - its own little city within a city.

And restaurants were plentiful. Zoli's (2426), Old Mill (3514), Bob's Place (1031), Fort Wayne Lunch (1308), Julie's Restaurant (1418), Leto's Pizza (1019), Manochio's (927), Senate Grill (1009), Ogg's Ralph Bar and Grill (1916), and Broadway Grill (1416).

Other businesses included (but definitely not a comprehensive list) Broadway Sewing Center (928), Maloley's (1101), Brass Rail Bar (1121), Koegel's Jewelers (1309), Norm's Glass Bar (1420), Custom Bilt (1908), Falls Tap (2012), Kirby Sales (2018), Swifty's (2024), Kip's Tavern (2034), Hire's (2042), Fort Wayne Lumber (2047), Broadway Car Wash (2202), Jocquel Supply Company (2206), Allen County Tires (2210), R&R Health Spa (2211), Hans Decorating Center (2215), Stookey's (2216), The Polka Dot (2219),Durnell's (2502), Speed-E-Clean Laundromat (2508), Marathan Station (2515), Broadway Home Bakery (2609), Martin's Heating (2626), Permafloors (2725), Magic Fingers (2726), Texaco (2740), Fort Wayne Mirror Works (2829), Allied Pool Equipment (2915), Montgomery's (3138), Broadway 66 Service Station (3325), Edward's Photography (3433), Tri-State Service (3434), Cosgrove's (3437), Compact Vacuum (3503), Randall's (3518).

But I'm not done yet - more on these businesses later...

Creepy Scary Man

2008-08-04T15:31:00.002-04:00

Who remembers the Creepy Scary Man who was trapped in the glass case at 3201 Brooklyn Avenue?

I've been looking for a picture of him for years....YEARS I tell you and this telephone book advertisement is the closest I can come to finding him.

I'm tellin' you - he was way more scary than he looks here.

The first time I saw him, I wondered - was he real? Was he pretend?

And how in the world did they get him (real or otherwise) in there?

It was like magic. Or maybe he was buried alive in a mummified way - but without mummy wraps.

You can tell...I had quite an imagination.

I'm sure creepy scary man is gone.

I wonder what happened to creepy scary man and his glass case?

Time for Timer

2008-08-02T02:48:00.000-04:00

Everything I learned about how food works with my body - I learned from Timer.

The Building on Wells Street

2008-07-31T21:21:00.010-04:00

As I was going through some of the photos I snapped from May, I remembered that I hadn't asked anyone about this building.

If you're going North on Wells, it is on the left hand side, right before you get to Jack and Johnny's.

I pulled two pictures from ACPL CONTENTdm (cropped 'em) and they're below.

The woodworking above the windows - frickin' awesome. And it's still there. I really, really hope that this isn't a building on the demolition list. Please tell me that something positive and uplifting is happening with this building :).

Kristina Frazier-Henry is a Serial Blogger

2008-07-29T16:39:00.003-04:00

Thanks to my buddy Mark who sent this link to me. And no Mark - I'm not embarrassed in the least :).

One of the premier Barbie designers was Mattel’s Carter Bryant, whose Cinderella-like Grand Entrance Barbie sent adult collector Kristina Frazier-Henry into orbit. Frazier-Henry of Indiana is a serial blogger who has written 1,325 reviews on Epinions.com under the handle kristinafh.

Her take on Grand Entrance Barbie:

I am a fanatical Barbie collector. Fanatical in the way that I would rather have an NRFB (that’s Never Removed From Box) Barbie than just about any other gift. Surprised? Yeah, thought you were.

Doll Description
This Grand Entrance Barbie is the first collector doll designed by Carter Bryant. It came out in 2001 and was met with a lot of oooh’s and ahhh’s from the adult collecting world. Here’s why.

Close your eyes and imagine an elegant ball. Your hair is blond (natural of course) and shiny. There’s no frizz to be had. The sides of your hair are gently gathered back while the back of your hair is curled in waves and lays gently across your shoulders.

Your gown is a steel blue taffeta creation made by designer Carter Bryant. The bodice is fitted and compliments your elegant waist. Underneath your gown is a thin, slip-like layer of tulle the color of ivory. Sewn into the middle part of your gown is a creamy pink silk sheath. The way the light shines off of the creamy pink makes a total stranger want to come over and touch you.

Yeah. And you thought that I was just passionate about Fort Wayne.

Historical Pictures are WAY COOL!

2008-07-29T00:01:00.001-04:00

I'm willing to bet that I've spent more time on the Allen County Public Library's CONTENTdm site than 99% of folks who even know of its existence.

I love this site. Like love. Like would ponder giving up Butterfinger's for a day for this site.

It's so cool to find pictures of people, places and things that you either forgot - or maybe remembered - but no one else could corroborate ;).

ANYWAY - I found a couple of pictures that I wanted to share with you. They aren't just any ordinary pictures. Only I - KFH - would be curious enough to go hunt these pups down (this - I am convinced!!).

Picture #1 - Remember the Fred Astaire Dance Studio? And Indiana Bank?

Hah! There they are! Proof that they existed - and both - downtown. Just as I remembered them.

The picture I pulled this from can be found here

West Washington Blvd at South Harrison Street. Date 04/26/1979.

I love cropping tools!

Picture #2/3 - Cat's Meow and More!

Sure, you remember the Cat's Meow - c'mon - that is a piece of Fort Wayne history.

There are STORIES - tons of stories to be told about this place. I know someone out there is dying to share...

But - do you remember Louie's Chop Suey?! And look at that Stoner's sign!

You can find the original picture that I pulled these two images from here

708 South Harrison Street and West Main Street. Date 01/04/1974.

Picture #4/#5 - On the surface, the picture is a view of Harrison Street, looking North and specifically - the Shell station is within view. That's cool, right? Oh boy - it doesn't stop there. Lookie what else I found!

POWERS!

Where the Hamburgers are 5 Cents! Boy, that place hasn't changed much (except for the price).

Anyway - throughout the week - I'll be posting my many finds.

Thanks for humoring me - and who knows - maybe I'll find one of those gems that you thought was only in your imagination...

McCulloch Park - I See Dead People

2008-07-28T00:01:00.002-04:00

When I was a little kid, there were times when we hung out at McCulloch Park.

It is right by GE and also - on the bus line. I know at some point, the Three Rivers Festival parade even marched by the area because we sat there and watched the parade that year.

Anyway...

One of the rumors that kids used to pass on from one generation to another was that there were still a bunch of people, buried in the park and that when it rained, their bodies would float up to the top.

Although your initial reaction as a kid would be fibber!, I would be lying if I didn't tell you that the first time I was informed of this rumor, I had a couple of difficult nights of sleeping.

In my dreams, I kept on seeing myself in McCulloch Park, playing on the grass, then the rain breaks out, and as I run to the gazebo to take shelter, I start tripping all over the bodies that have washed up from the ground.

I know - pretty creepy.

Over time, I just dismissed the rumor. Even forgot about it.

Until today.

Side note: For the record - we all know that Indiana Governor, Samuel Bigger, is still buried there and allegedly, he was the only one.

While I was out on Ancestry.com, I came across this:

A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE KAMMEIER FAMILY -- written by Ernst C. Kammeier

After being in America about two weeks, misfortune befell the family. The father became sick and died. That surely was a hard blow for the mother, who was left alone with three little children in a strange country. Fortunately the family was among good friends and neighbors who helped them as much as they could.

Henry Kammeier I was buried in the City cemetery on Broadway. This cemetery later was converted into a park and is called McCullouch Park in honor of Hugh McCullouch, a prominent citizen and banker of Ft. Wayne, who was Secretary of the Treasury of the United States under President Lincoln, and who is said to have devised and inaugurated the modern banking system in the United States.

When the cemetery was converted into a city park about the year 1885, quite a number of bodies were removed to other burial grounds but that of Henry Kammeier was not disturbed and is still resting there. The grave is located in the southwest corner of the park near Broadway St. under a large elm tree.

***********************************
SO...I guess part of the rumor passed on from one generation to another was true - there ARE still dead people buried in McCulloch Park.

Barbies on a Shoestring

2008-07-27T07:14:00.004-04:00

It's amazing to me how little I had - in the material sense - when I was a youngster. Here's a great example.

Here's a picture of me and Kim Spore at my house on Cedar Crest Circle. Looks to be around third grade - maybe fourth grade (1976'ish).

We're sitting on the floor of the bedroom I shared with my sister Patty.

* We had no carpet in this bedroom.

* Most of the clothes you see on Barbie (I'm holding her) or Skipper (Kim is holding her) was handmade by my Aunt Barb (she went through a phase of sewing everything!).

* I'm also holding a "Dawn" too, she is just well hidden behind Malibu Barbie.

* There is a pink barbie case in the left corner of the picture. Notice the "make believe" towel I have draped into the handle. Most likely, that was our designated Barbie bathroom.

* To the right (and still looking at the bottom of the picture) was a silk-like pink box that was my mother's. She got it from some flea market or auction/estate sales. That served two particular purposes in this scenario.

First, it was Barbie's clothes trunk. Yes, instead of a closet, that's where she kept most of her stuff. Second, it was a ledge for her to stand on as she looked up to the loft area where Skipper slept. Believe me, I'm not making this up. Seeing this picture - BOOM - it was like a memory recorder in my head. I could recall just about everything and the reason for it.

* Notice the Brownie (pink) patch and the wings (signifying the flight up from Brownies to Junior Girl Scouts). Those were rugs. Yep, Barbie rugs.

* That blue and white checkered-like blanket that was draped on the box (where Skipper's loft was), was sewn by my Aunt Barb.

* There's a Lipton tea box and a dixie bathroom cup on the floor. Not sure what we were going to use those for!

* Okay - the fact that me and Kim are dressed alike - could only mean one thing. No, it's not like we went to school like this. Most likely, we decided that to play Barbies, we needed to dress alike which is why we both have on skirts and turtlenecks (and by the way - all clothing is mine).

* Regarding auctions/estate sales/flea markets...the white desk in the corner was definitely something my mother picked up from one of those places. We had all sorts of interesting, odds and ends, throughout my house, of these kinds of pieces.

Fort Wayne - Where Everybody Knows Your Business

2008-07-26T15:08:00.005-04:00

I'm a little unusual - this - we all know.

One of the things that amuses me, is reading the early Fort Wayne newspapers (specifically 1900-1920).

If you're not familiar with what was reported on by the newspapers in those days - well - let's just say that your business was everybodys elses business. And I'm sure this went on all over the country but it seems just a little bit different when you're reading about the families you're familiar with.

Take my own family for example. My great-grandfather, Walter G. Roy, was married to Rosina Breer and apparently, they had a very tumultuous relationship prior to her (young) death.

I was tempted to pull a couple of other examples however, I didn't want to risk offending someone who might find out here - for the first time - that one of their relatives was the talk to of the city (via a newspaper entry).

Downtown Fort Wayne...July 20 2008

2008-07-25T00:01:00.000-04:00

My mom and step-dad talked me into a couple of coney's before I left Sunday. I drove up Fairfield and criss-crossed across a couple of streets. Decided to stop and take a couple of photos.

In the parking lot behind Cindy's Diner is a couple of really old signs.

I think this is really cool. They should clean it up a bit, but otherwise, I appreciate the nostalga of it.

And I really really wanted to pull these weeds and do some basic landscaping of this area.

SO much potential....

There's gotta be a LOT of history attached to this building. If you click on the picture (for the larger view), I think you can see that at one time, another building must have been attached to it.

I love love love the brick and intricate patterns (ya gotta look closely to see them).

So much landscaping opportunities...

West Jefferson - Right Before Parkwest...

2008-07-24T00:01:00.001-04:00

Here are a couple more pictures I took on my way out of town this past weekend.

I was glad to run across my old friend, Westwood Lanes.

I'm pretty sure that this is where (a Ford Dealership) my husband purchased his 1987 grey Ford Escort.

It's disappointing to see how rundown the place is. Notice the cracks in the parking lot with the numerous amounts of weeds growing in between.

More of the same sigh.

Since this area is close to the Swinney Park area, one would think that folks would want to keep it up - looking decent.

Right now, it looks like a giant eyesore.

I wonder how long it's been empty???

Child of the Fort

The Best Birthday Ever

Save the Date

Coming Full Circle

Ice Skating at Reservoir Park

The Death of a Timeless Man

Key III Candies

My Cathedral

Fort Wayne Box Company

This is the Downtown that I Remember (Kinda)

Fifth Grade and the Overthrow of Miss Majewski

My Love for World History - It All Started With Peter Jennings

Beth...the Beginning

Burger Chef on Bluffton Road

The McMillen Globe

It Was A Tuesday, in November...1973

A Guy and His Gun

The Interloper

The Lobby of the Library

Three Rivers Festival Souvenir Program

Postcard of Public Library

June 2, 1990

The Allen County Public Library

The Southgate Plaza Shopping Center

Rejected

Does Scott's at Decatur Road Have A Date With The Wrecking Ball?

el elefante es grande

Life on Hadley Road

Finger Lickin' Good

Postcard of Aerial View of Downtown Fort Wayne, Ind.

Mayor Tom Henry and His Wife Met at Scott's Decatur Road

No Response Yet From Fort Wayne Leaders - Re: Scott's Decatur Road

Update On The Cornucopia (New Information - 4:30 est)

End of an Era - Scott's on Decatur Road

Confessing My Sins

More Southside Pictures - Blast from the Past

AYR-WAY'S South Location

My Old Friend Returns - 26 Years Later

R.I.P. Don Scott

The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present

Dance Recital Roster

Spotlight On Youth

Marlene's Dance Studio

ALLEN COUNTY MOTORS ON WEST JEFFERSON STREET

How A Toddler Can Push A Teenager's Buttons

Franklin Delano Frazier

Big Shoes to Fill

Where and When

Fort Wayne Community School Board Race - 2008

Imagination Can Alter A Life

The Frazier's and The Couch's

20 Years Ago - Inspiration, Hope, and A Reason To Be Involved

St. Therese Catholic School - Fifth Grade Class Photo

Anthony Wayne Bank - That's MY Bank

Mr. Long, the President's Physical Fitness Award, Gym, Square Dancing

Rogers Friendly Markets

Ads from Fort Wayne's Past

1973: Tragedy on Sandhill

Glenbrook Center - We Build Highways For You and Route 30 Sucks

September 1983 - The City Spins Around

Fort Wayne Yearbook Pictures

Movies - Inside and Outside - 1976

St. Therese Catholic School, Fourth Grade, Mr. Wunderlin, and Gregg Jehl

Patty, Reading Readiness, and Mrs. Ann Ballinger

S.R.A.

Extending the Spirit and Vision of Fort Wayne's Parks - Boundless Playground

More "Signs" From Fort Wayne's Past

Advertisements of the Past

R. Nelson Snider

A Little Fort Wayne Nostalgia

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Significance of Scott's Court

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Kids

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Houses

1971 - The House on Cedar Crest Circle

On Broadway

Creepy Scary Man

Time for Timer

More Downtown Spots from CONTENTdm

The Building on Wells Street

Kristina Frazier-Henry is a Serial Blogger