Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Significance of Scott's Court

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...

One Day, You Will Be Gone

Hey Dad,

I would ask, how have you been...but that seems sort of fake and superficial, so I won't. Besides, Patty keeps me up to date on you (although I know you two don't talk more than a handful of times a year).

It's Father's Day which I'm sure you know. And typically, daughters spend the day with their fathers, but that's something you and I haven't done for about 16 years now. Maybe longer. Maybe shorter. Honestly, I've lost track of time.

A long time ago, I let go of the anger. Sometimes though, sadness and 'what-if' kind of thoughts, make their way to my consciousness. Like today. You know - Father's Day.

It's been really tough growing up without my father in my life - or at least the one I deserved to have in my life. I wouldn't wish my father (the one I grew up with) on anyone yet in some strange, bizarre way, I have a lot to thank you for.

I found someone who is the complete opposite of you. I'm never afraid of him. I know that he'll always love me. And the best thing in the world - he's possibly the best father that's ever walked the face of the earth.

I'm professionally successful. People respect me - my work ethic - my business decisions.

I'm educated. I have a master's degree. I almost went the distance on my doctorate but then realized that I was only going there to prove something to the people who left a hole in my heart.

I'm self-sufficient. I've never been on welfare, homeless, or out of work for any major length of period. I've always landed on my feet - regardless of what has been thrown my way.

I'm lucky. I have my sister Patty who is awesome and even though we are nothing alike, she understands me and does not judge me - no matter what. That kind of unconditional love is hard to come by in what remains of - this family - what was - your family.

Dad, one day, you will be gone. There won't be any more time left. There won't be tomorrows or next weeks or birthdays or holidays in which you can reconsider your relationship with us. It's all up to you dad. Ball is in your court.

Only Time - Enya

All That You Can't Leave Behind - Stinson's Day Nursery

Preamble


I like to start out one of these entries - at the very least - on a happy note because when I think about my time growing up in Fort Wayne, there's lots of happy stuff to chat about.

I have been wanting to blog about Stinson's Day Nursery for three months. I lacked pictures, mementos - anything - and even though I could have just wrote about it, I really REALLY wanted to share with you what made it such a magical period of time in my life.

Thanks to Phil Marx (aka man about town - and owner of MyHudHouse) and the absolutely frickin' best realtor that ever walked the state of Indiana (aka Lynda King), I was able to get some info. Unfortunately, their information was hard for me to see and read. And so writing about Stinson's Day Nursery will be both a happy and sad thing for me.

End Preamble


When I write about a particular spot in Fort Wayne, I almost always start my blog entry with a picture of "the place".

I just can't. It's too depressing.

Instead. Your first picture is of me and my sister Patty - or PJ - as she was called back then. I believe that this is both of us walking up to Stinson's Day Nursery.

SO there you go. We're only 11 months apart, but you definitely wouldn't know it from this picture. Yes, I've always been tall.

SO

When I was three years old, my mom worked at KMart as a cashier. I think she worked at some KMart close to Southtown Mall/Southgate. All I remember is the turquoise smock, subs with stringy lettuce & paper thin tomatoes, and blue light specials. But more on KMart in another blog entry....

In the late 60's there weren't many nursery schools in Fort Wayne. Perusing the phone book, there were perhaps a handful and Mrs. Paul Stinson's Day Nursery was one of the best in town.

The school felt like a home. Part of that was because of the "building" It looked like two large houses had been merged together with the help of a built on addition that bridged the two. The other part was that the people who owned it and ran it - they treated us like their own children. I know I felt very secure and loved by these caretakers and since we were there many hours - this was a good thing.

My mom worked a lot. My dad was in the army. Let's just say - there wasn't a lot of stability. Stinson's Day Nursery provided lots of stability and gosh - but I learned! Not book learning - but Kristina learning. Somehow, I learned how to be myself. Sounds kind of strange, doesn't it? I don't know of any other way to describe it. I just know that this place gave me the tools to trust my gut and this gut thing has served me well throughout my life (thus far).

Side note: Photos are courtesy of Phil Marx. They were just taken in April 2008. More on this later. It pains me to look at these photos but....so it goes....

I have two very distinctive memories about my time at Stinson's.

First, no one cooked macaroni and cheese better than the woman who cooked it at Stinson's. I don't know what her name was - but I can still picture her. We would all be sitting at these cute, little tables and after everyone had their share, if there were left overs, she would come out of the kitchen with this HUGE silvery cooking pot and a giant wooden spoon.

Who would like more?

ME ME ME ME ME!!!!

My sister and I both loved the stuff.

Oh yes - mac and cheese day was something to look forward to.

My second distinct memory was the day that I, Kristina Michele Frazier, fell in with a bad crowd. Yes, I know, difficult to believe, but true. I don't remember all of the girls involved but let me tell you, if I ever find them, they better stay away :).

We were outside playing - lots of kids of course - but in particular, me and my sister Patty hung out with three other girls. We were talking about pets. We wanted a dog. Somebody else wanted a cat. This one girl said she wanted a rabbit. While debating the idea of - was a rabbit really a pet - I grew bored and wanted to find something else to do.

I went off somewhere, but then came back.

These girls + my sister - had disappeared to the side of the school and right before my eyes - what did I see? A drawing of a rabbit.

Seriously. If I remember correctly, "somebody" found one of those pieces of rock - you know - the kind that when you press it, remarkably resembles chalk? Well somebody drew a rabbit on the side of the nursery school and before I could ask who did it (because please - isn't it obvious - it was the chick obsessed with having the rabbit for a pet), we were BUSTED....BUSTED I tell you.

I can't remember his name - but I'm assuming it was one of Mae's sons - either Wayne or Rex (this I only knew after doing some extensive research on the family names).

Let's assume it was Rex.

Rex took us all aside and asked, "who did this". Lots of NOT ME's rang through the air. So then, he broke us up and one by one he paddled each one of us.




That paddling took place in this silver thing - building. Yes, this is how it looks today. There were even bathrooms (aka toilets) in here.

I don't remember crying.


I do remember that I was going to seek revenge on that rabbit-loving artist though.


SO, that's all of the pictures I can stomach showing you tonight.


When I first saw Phil's pictures, a huge pit of sadness filled my tummy (see, I'm talking like I'm five now).

I became obsessed.

How did a place like this - which was in business for at least 25 years - how did it get to this point? What happened? Where was Mrs. Paul Stinson? Her family? Where was the maker of that wonderful mac and cheese?

I spent hours surfing the net.

I found lots of bad news. Mrs. Paul Stinson - deceased - 1987. Mr. Paul Stinson - deceased - 1997. Wayne Stinson - deceased - 2004. I searched through thousands of places looking for any reference to the nursery school and I found only ONE reference. It was in an obituary for Lorraine Kappel. She died in 2007 and worked at Stinson's for 20 years (until she retired in 1983). She was born in England - and just as I read that - BOOM - it hit me. She was the maker of the mac and cheese. I remember the accent...

But only ONE reference to an establishment that had been a part of Fort Wayne for over 20 years?! I don't understand. Seriously. I lack all understanding on this.

When Phil came back with these pictures, he told me that the place was up for sale and right away, I reached out to Lynda King to see if she could find out anything for me. Even though the place looked horrid on the inside, I really REALLY wanted to take one last look around on the inside. Must track down realtor...must convince s/he to let me take pictures.

****************************************
Kristina:

My oh my you gave me quite a mystery to uncover. I found out lots of info about the Stinson Daycare property by tracking the owner of record through the Allen County Treasurer's Office. The property is owned by the Mount Calvary Housing Development Corporation (aka CDC), which I called and spoke to a gal by the name of xxxxxx. She said that Reverend Mike Nicholson is president of the CDC but he is unavailable for the next 3 weeks, due to having surgery. She doesn't believe you will be able to get into the property due to fact that the city ordered it to be boarded and will probably be demolishing it. You can call Rev. Nicholson or Pat at (xxx) xxx-xxxx for further information.

I hope this helps you, although, it's not quite what you wanted to hear.

Regards,
Lynda

****************************************
I was stunned. Surprised? Okay. I admit. Just a little.

Part of me was hoping that someone with a big heart and close ties to the Fort, would swoop in and rescue this place. This place of love and warmth - a place that really had a great deal to do with the foundation of my being. (See, I told you...drama queen comes out every time - but really - that's how I feel.)

I'm traveling to Fort Wayne later this week. I may get shot, robbed, and my CRV stolen - but by golly, I'm driving by the place. I need to have one last cry and close this chapter.

Beautiful Day

The heart is a bloom - shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room - no space to rent in this town
You're out of luck, and the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck, and you're not moving anywhere
You thought you'd found a friend to take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand in return for grace

It's a beautiful day - the sky falls
You feel like it's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

You're on the road, but you've got no destination
You're in the mud - in the maze of her imagination
You love this town, even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over, and it's been all over you

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
It's a beautiful day

Touch me - take me to that other place
Teach me - I know I'm not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
See the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colours came out

It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me - take me to that other place
Reach me - I know I'm not a hopeless case
What you don't have you don't need it now
What you don't know you can feel somehow
What you don't have you don't need it now
Don't need it now
It was a beautiful day