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Joseph Carlin's (husband of Dora) burial site is located at #1 Legion Circle, Lot 70. Dora's burial site is unknown.
Article by Marguerite Sand, Times-Union Women's Editor, March 24, 1956. Transcribed by Marge Priser, and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
Vivacious and strikingly beautiful, Dora Carlin has an important role in the advancement of aviation in Warsaw and surrounding area. Working with her husband, Joe, she has seen a pasture field developed until it has become an efficiently run airport, accommodating local business men, flying enthusiasts, and transit aircraft.
All members of Dora's family, from Joe to 11-year-old Fritz to 7-year-old Betty Jo, are air-minded. Fritz and Betty Jo have been flying since they were babies. Young Fritz, who is a sixth grader at Center Ward, can pilot a plane, operating the dual controls when flying with his father. He is not yet quite tall enough to reach the rudder, but time will cure that, and by the time he is 16 and allowed to fly solo, he will have been a veteran for a number of years.
Fritz used to confound adults when at the ripe old age of four he could identify planes. The story is told that one day he visited another airport with his father. After inspecting all the hangars, he returned and ask who owned the Fairchild. There is no Fairchild on the field Fritz was informed. Unimpressed, Fritz took the doubting one to the hangar, and sure enough there was the Fairchild. Few people questioned Fritz following that episode.
Dora who was born in Advance, Indiana, and spent most of her youth in Des Moines, Iowa, is the daughter of a Congregational Christian minister. Her parents, Rev. and Mrs. O.B. Rector, live in Muncie. She has two brothers who live at Muncie and Duluth, and a sister, Mrs. Jerry Lessig, of Warsaw. The Rector family moved to Sidney, and Dora attended school there her senior year.
It was a year later that Dora met Joe Carlin, whose family also lived near Sydney. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Milton Carlin, and two sisters, Mrs. Vern Ross and Mrs. Lawrence Ross, still live in that community. A brother, Loren (Pete) Carlin, lives in Warsaw, another, Winburn, at Goshen and a sister, Mrs. Ann Greewalt at Elkhart.
At the time when Joe and Dora became acquainted, Joe was learning to fly. Six months after they were married he went to Galesburg, Illinois to get an instructor's rating at the regular commercial flight school there. The training proved to be worthwhile. In 1942, with America at war, Joe became a civilian flight instructor, giving primary and basic flight instruction to air corps cadets at Carlson's field, Arcadia, Florida. The three years Joe was at Arcadia, Dora was with him.
As the war progressed there was need for air transport command pilots. Dora returned to Muncie. Joe went to Memphis, Tennessee, where he learned to fly heavy twin and four-engine aircraft. Once this training was completed, the demand had lessened. He returned to Carlson field, this time training new flight instructors and aerobatics.
Once Japan was defeated, Joe's work was done, and he and his family came to Warsaw. Dora said he had always planned to have his own flight service. Starting on a shoestring, and with but one plane, a Tailorcraft, Joe went to work for himself at Smith airport, also located on State Road 15, north.
It was at Smith airfield that Dora became interested. Because Joe's work demanded long hours, there was little time for the family to be together. Joe needed help, and so it was that the business became a family enterprise. Dora laughed when she recalled how they would each day, gather Fritz' baby paraphernalia together, including a playpen and take off for the airport.
At first, Dora did general office work - kept records. Then the veterans flight training program was introduced, and as Joe had more and more students, Dora's work increased.
In the meantime, city officials were planning a municipal airport. They purchased a site on state road 15 north and named it Warsaw Memorial Airport in memory of men who died in service during World War II. In late 1946 and early 1947, runways were graded and the Carlin's moved their business to the city airport.
At first it was not easy. There were no buildings on the grounds. Going to work with a will, Joe built an office building and hangar. This and training approximately 50 veteran student pilots was more than a full-time job. Backing him was Dora, who let Joe handle the flight work, while she did the so-called groundwork, which at times included refueling planes. She also learned to fly, soloing that same year. By now they had a fleet of 3 Tailorcrafts and two Cessnas. Things were looking up for this young couple.
In 1948, the city, with the financial assistance of the federal government, laid an extensive tile drainage system and surfaced the north-south runway. The other two were seeded. Following these improvements, the airport was officially dedicated.
Runway lights and a beacon were installed by Earl Parker, current president of the aviation board. The second night after the lights were put in operation, an army pilot, whose radio had gone out, saw the beacon and landed his twin-engine plane safely. About the same time, an air-to-ground radio communications system, unicom, was installed. Along with her other duties, Dora mans the radio, talking with incoming pilots, arranging for transportation, relaying messages.
Kenneth Linn, of Warsaw, an aircraft and engine mechanic, has been with the Carlins from the beginning. Max Bumbaugh, of Warsaw, is a flight instructor at the field. Max was Joe's first student to solo. William (Bill) Wagner, Warsaw business man, does commercial pilot work. Bill, an army Air Force pilot, flew heavy aircraft during World War II.
The airport is a busy place these days. There are now five hangars on the field - some privately owned. There are 28 planes not counting operational ships owned by the Carlins.
As time goes on, air travel will increase and already the Carlins and city officials are looking to the future, planning an expansion program. Warsaw may well be proud of its municipally-owned air field. It is rated the most active small field in the state with daily activity far ahead of any such surrounding ports save metropolitan facilities at South Bend, Fort Wayne, Indianapolis, Evansville, Terre Haute, etc.
Burial site located at Block 59, Lot 47, Space 7
Article by Jo Rector, City Editor. Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
At age 93, William Kintzel still has the spunk of his youth and a song on his lips for all who will listen.
At 10 a.m. tomorrow he will be the featured soloist at Cook’s Chapel, a country church one and one-half miles west of Rozella Ford Golf Course and for those moments the congregation might as well be in Carnegie Hall. Kintzel loves to sing. "The larger the crowd, the better I like it," he says with a grin.
Although the years have piled up on the calendar since his Feb, 20, 1881 birth, they have not betrayed his tenor voice. " I told a lady I was heading for 100, and if I make it, we would sing a duet," chats the vocalist.
There’s a trace of Midwestern nasal tone in the melodies he sings – a quality immigrants to Indiana blame on the humidity and summer pollen but one that sets Hoosier voices apart from any others.
Kintzel seems to sing by ear, even though he sight reads his gospel music arrangements. Pecking out the tune on the upright piano in his living room, his voice matches the sweet notes and sour until the chord is played and the man and instrument blend as one.
"You’re probably not going to like this," he warns on the way to the piano to perform the debut of his Sunday solo, "Oh Lord Be Merciful."
"My granddaughter, Becky Carlin, accompanies me on the piano or organ when I sing in public, but here at home I have to accompany myself. I’m not very good on the piano because I just pick out one note at a time. You can’t get a very good idea of the song that way, but I’ll play it for you anyway."
In the living room the dark brown piano pressed its back into an inside wall. A chair and a floor lamp hug either side. Family photographs use its top for a mantle. Sheet music lines up soldier fashion on the music rack and William Kintzel slides onto the piano bench.
The incantation to the Lord begins, and the round, mellow notes ripple through the living room as pebbles dropping into a pond. The Homer N. Bartlett song chimes through Kintzel’s voice, amazing for its clarity at 93.
"I really don’t have any favorite songs," Kintzel says. "They each have their own merit, but I do like to sing the ones that have a higher register."
Kintzel’s vocal talents are doubly amazing – first, because at 93 he still has a strong, clear voice, and second, because he has never had any formal music training. He started playing in a country band when he was 18 or 19 years old with some of the Etna Green boys he was raised with.
"Charlie Fesler, Mode Hamlin and Charlie Johnson wanted a second tenor for their group, so they asked me to join them," Kintzel recalls. "I just went right to town."
He also has instrumental experience on the cornet and baritone. "I began by playing the cornet and then switched to the baritone when the group decided we needed one. I loved baritone more than anything. It had a beautiful tone of its own, much sweeter than the cornet," Kintzel says.
But the baritone has disappeared from his rendition of sacred music. Today his voice and a piano or organ fill churches with sounds.
"They think I’m too old to sing over here," Kinzel says, motioning toward the Walnut Creek Church across the yard from his Rt. 2 Warsaw home.
"I’ve tried to get in the choir, but I guess they don’t think I’m any good or just too old to sing along," Kintzel comments.
The front lawn slopes gently toward the creek that names the church, and another yard borders the west edge of the creek before State Rd 15 stripes the land and forms a path jutting north and south.
Trees shade Kintzel’s two-story white house, and east of the driveway he holds forth in large vegetable garden.
Sleepy sunflowers nod their heavy heads in the sun above rows of rambling tomato plants loaded with juicy red fruit. Hills of potatoes mound beneath the earth, and the tight-skinned harvest is collected in bushel baskets on a cool back porch.
Cauliflower plants give a gray contrast to the parched brown earth and green foliage of the tomatoes in Kintzel’s garden. Watering was too hard on the pump and the well, says gardener Kintzel, "so I quit last week after it rained."
Brittle golden corn stalks, remnants of a sweet corn harvest, testify to the summer of drought in the teepee-shaped shocks Kintzel formed along the garden row.
Outside the back porch a tiny bed holds springs of dill and miniature marigolds for cooking and looking.
"My daughters put up the vegetables from my garden, and I let them take whatever they want for their families," says the father of eight. The arrangement works out well because he ends up with enough canned and frozen foods to last through the winter and spring.
If Kintzel has an affinity for music, he also has a spirit for cultivation the earth. He was raised on a farm about a mile and a half from Etna Green with his four brothers and four sisters, the son of Christopher and Isabel Kintzel.
He continued the family farming tradition in the Etna Green area where he and his wife, the former Amy Leffel, also an Etna Green girl, raised their eight youngsters.
The Kintzel twins were Max, now of Etna Township trustee, and Maxine Cullison, who lives in Plymouth, William F., Joe and True Kintzel are the couple’s other three sons, and three more daughters are Faith Shearer of Bourbon, Magdalene Taylor of New Carlisle and Doris Anglin of Clunette.
His first wife died in 1938, and Kintzel moved with his second spouse, Helen, in 1942 from Etna Green to the 75-acre farm south of Warsaw.
A heart attack and age caught up with farming career, and the acreage he cares for is reduced to six today. For awhile he milked nine cows by hand every day while working as the head meat cutter for the Warsaw Locker Plant own by Wilbur J. Redick.
"I really loved that work, it was fascinating. And it takes some skill to dress out the meat with just the right amount of fat and without ruining other parts of it," says the one time butcher.
"But I didn’t think I could keep on working the locker and take care of the farm too. I suppose now I should have just stayed at the job instead of coming back to the farm."
"There are some people who won’t believe this, but one day I cut up 27 quarters of beef by myself," Kinzel reflects. He also helped wait on Warsaw customers at the locker plant counter, and his philosophy of "always keeping busy and working" manifests itself in his lifestyle.
Today he lives alone in the frame house with a yellow tom cat and a stray mother cat and her four kittens, which he hopes to give away for pets.
His daughter, Faith, helps her father with business matters and looks after a monthly housecleaning detail. Widowed for the second time on Thanksgiving morning in 1968, Kintzel has learned to keep house and cook for himself, "But," he says, "there are some things they (his family) think I don’t do just right, so they help me out."
A stroke and a subsequent fall damaged Kintzel’s eyesight, but he can still read the music on the piano where he spends the evening hours singing to himself.
Last November his daughter Doris, who is accompanist Becky’s mother, prepared a batch of carrot juice for her father, and Becky says he contends the concoction has greatly improved his eyesight. But sounds are what matter to him now as he lifts the song on his lips to God.
Warsaw Times-Union Spotlight - Aug. 24-31, 1974.
Burial site located at Block 43, Lot 11, Space 6
By Al Spiers, Times-Union Correspondent (in two parts). Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
Warsaw's Fred Olds is Man of Many Talents by Al Spiers, Times-Union Correspondent (in two parts)
To a columnist who likes real people, Fred Olds is great copy. Trouble is, where to begin? His warm story could start like this: "If Warsaw ever lets kids vote, Fred Olds could be Santa Claus for mayor. Or this: "Fred Olds is never sure how his next bill will be paid--but he laughs off big-paying jobs that take him from home and family."
Perhaps a catch-all kick-off would do: "Fred Olds is a man of many facets-teacher, artist, lecturer, horse trainer, singer, craftsman, athlete, soldier, coach, counselor. But his greatest talent is for living-and giving."
Or I might say, "After one enchanting evening with Fred Olds and his delightful family I felt like an old friend..." But somehow tricky leads seem unsuitable to a guy as likeable, humble, sincere and generous as Olds. So let's just start at the beginning and let his story roll as he's lived it.
Born in Ohio
Olds was born April 27, 1916, in Fremont, Ohio. A year later his dad, the late Fred, Sr., an osteopath, moved the family to Warsaw. In boyhood, Fred acquired a love of music from his dad, who often led the family in songfests. Summer spent with grandparents lured him to horses.
"Dad's folks bred trotters in New York, and Mom's people raised horses and mules in Missouri," Fred grinned. "So I was riding almost as soon as I could walk." In high school, Olds, a lean, agile, rugged six-footer, played football (guard) and ran the track dashes well enough to win an athletic scholarship at IU. There, with some uncertainty, he begin pre-medical studies in the fall of 1935.
A jarring belly butt in spring training ended his IU career in the spring of 1937. The resulting hernia needed surgery. Sent home to convalescent, Fred brooded. "I decided I wanted to b a cowboy, not a doctor," he grinned. So off he went, hitch-hiking west. His money ran out in Dallas, Tex., and he got a ranch job. But instead of happily riding horses he found himself jockeying an old jalopy and stringing fence.
Disillusioned, the prodigal returned and enrolled at DePauw, determined now to pursue a life-long talent for art. Two years later 1940's gathering war clouds changed Fred's mind again. Eager to fly, he enlisted as an aviation cadet.
Not for Southpaw
An odd thing nipped Fred's pilot career in the bud. He's left-handed. Airplanes aren't tailored for Southpaws. After seven struggling hours, Olds' instructor said sadly: "Sorry, Fred-it's no use."
Sent home, Olds promptly reenlisted as an Air Force Kiwi and in time became a gunner and bombardier aboard A20s. After Pearl Harbor, his outfit was swiftly shifted to the East Coast for sub hunting. "I never saw a sub-but at least I was flying," Fred grinned.
Presently destiny tossed a new low curve at Fred. Shifted to a B26 outfit bound for Africa, he badly dislocated a knee running an obstacle course. Grounded, he took a supply job to stay with his outfit. Overseas, Fred Scrounged supplies, sketched, dodged bombs and pestered the brass until he finally got back into the air as an observer on 15 missions.
Discharged in 1945, Fred finished college at Ohio Wesleyan, majoring in art, minoring in physical education. When he got a job as teacher and coach at a Long Island high school, Olds knew he'd found the right career at last. He loves kids-and they love him.
There ensued three incredibly busy years. Fred taught, coached, played semi-pro football, got a master's degree at Columbia, worked summers as an Adirondacks dude ranch counselor and somehow found time to woo and win pretty Flora Connor, a girl who shared his love for children. Soon they were expecting.
Overjoyed, Fred scouted for a new job from the stifling New York area-no place to raise kids. He found one in the best possible place-back home at Warsaw. So in August, 1950, shortly after their Kathleen was born, the Olds' came back to Indiana.
Warsaw Times Union, Tuesday April 16, 1957
Horse, Home in Country Keep Fred Olds Happy by Al Spiers, Times Union Correspondent (part 2)
In 1950 Fred Olds, a great guy in any kid's book came home to Warsaw to teach art, help coach footbal and track and rais a family. Olds returned to Hoosierland with two wishes-to own a place in the country and a horse or two. Unexpectedly, he got the horse first-a sly old trickster named Dash, bought for $100 from a rodeo performer.
"We kept him in the garage," laughed Fred, a lean, likable six-footer with an amiable face and gentle eyes. "Sometimes I'd take him to school and display his tricks to the kids. They loved him."
Dash had one trick neither Fred nor his pretty wife, Flora appreciated. He'd unlatch the door and go adventuring through Warsaw. He did it once when Fred was out of town and Flora was eight months pregnant. The police called and I had to lead him home," smiled Flora. "It was quite a parade-pregnant me, frisky Dash and a flock of happy kids trailing along behind."
In 1952, the Oldses got their other wish-a place in the country. It wasn't much-five acres, a barn, sheds and a ramshackle old farmhouse that needed oodles of fixing. But it was ideal for kids, horses and easy living and that suited Fred and Flora perfectly.
Wife is Decorator
Since then, five years of hard work and all their spare cash have gone into what Fred dubbed Olds' Fertile Acres.
Flora, whose hobby is decorating, did most of the painting, wallpapering and planning-in between tending Kathleen, now 7, Laura, 5; Eric, 4; and the new Olds' offspring, another girl. Fred's main contribution was extra money earned as a commercial artist and mural painter in what scant spare time his busy schedule allows.
"We still have much to do," he grinned. "It'll get done in time. Meanwhile we're comfortable and happy."
There is, of course, a horse on the farm-Skeeter, a superb Appaloosa stallion, Fred's favorite breed. "It took some trading and frenzied financing to get Skeeter," Fred laughed. "But now I'm set. Some day we'll raise Appaloosas. Meanwhile, I'm training Skeeter as a roping horse."
Fertile Acres is also the home of a dog, sundry cats, a pet goat, some banty chickens, wild mallards, and a Brahma steer on which Skeeter will be rope-trained. "We had a cow-but she panicked and died in a bad thunderstorm," said Fred sadly. "We may get another-and of course, a pony for the kids."
Gives up Coaching
The Oldses are scarcely dollar-rich-partly because Fred gives so generously of his time to others. He's had to give up coaching and besides teaching he sings in their Methodist Church choir, gives several chalk talks (usually for free) a month, conducts weekly adult education classes in oil painting and leathercraft. Above all, he believes firmly in spending ample fun time with his family-especially the kids.
Only when the wolf raps insistently at the door does he paint for profit. "And that, I must confess, happens all too often, " he laughed. "We rarely know how our next bill will get paid. But somehow it does, and we go on enjoying life." Recently, a friend, aware of Fred's many talents, offered him a job at about double his present income. There was one hitch. Fred would be away from home several days a year.
"No thanks," said Fred firmly. "I'd be miserable away from Flora and the kids." Summers, Fred works as a counselor at a small-frey dude ranch in New York's Adirondacks. The whole family goes along--and has a barrel of fun. How well Warsaw's small fry like their gentle, easy-going art teacher was aptly displayed one recent Sunday.
Emerging from Methodist services, a little girl turned to her mother and said: "Now let's go to that other church."
Startled, Mom asked why.
"Because," said the bright-eyed lass, "Mr. Olds is singing today in their choir, too."
As he says, Fred Olds may never be sure how his next bill will get paid--but he's one of the richest men I know.
Mrs. George Fisher
Burial site located at Block 45, Lot 7, Space 2
"Silence is golden" is the age-old advice given by Mrs. George Fisher to today's wives of athletic coaches just starting their careers.
Mrs. Fisher is well-qualified to speak on the subject. For 19 years of her married life, her husband coached Warsaw high school teams. During those years, experience taught her many lessons.
The Fishers live on a farm northeast of Leesburg. They have two children 17-year-old Duke, a senior this year at Warsaw high school, and 15-year-old Becky, a sophomore. The former Miriam DeFries, Mrs. Fisher is a native of Kosciusko county, spent her childhood in Milford.
As she reminisced, it was apparent that to Mrs. Fisher those years her husband coached young boys meant a great deal to her. The decision that was the hardest for her husband to make was that of resigning.
As the wife of a coach, Mrs. Fisher had to face unpleasant as well as pleasant situations. Many times fans during the excitement of a close game heckled and criticized. After several such experiences, she realized that she must learn to deafen her ears. Remarks were make during the heat of the contest that would not be make under any other circumstances.
What she prefers to remember are those times her husband's team won there were many of them. Of great satisfaction to the Fishers are those boys who have continued to keep in contact with them. Many still visit the coach, write to him asking for advice. Such incidents are of never-ending pleasure.
During the war, many letters were received from serviceman thanking Coach Fisher for the part he had played in building character. Discipline is listed foremost among his training rules. Each young man found that training in later life to be invaluable. Mrs. Fisher agrees with her husband, says "I believe it (meaning training in discipline) gives children a stronger sense of security."
Mrs. Fisher says she often thinks of their home as "Fisher's Hotel" because of the crowds of young people who assemble in her kitchen for a snack. In tense moments before a game during those years Mr. Fisher coached, the household was silent. No one seemed to feel like talking. Once the game was over, she knew whether her husband wanted to talk, acted accordingly.
Seeing her husband work with a boy, who in the beginning seemed to have no qualifications of an athlete, help him to become an accomplished and confident sportsman was perhaps the most rewarding result of being a coach's wife. She still gets a thrill when former students stop her on the street and ask, "How's Coach?"
Mrs. Fisher first met her husband through her sister who is married to his brother in Muncie. At this time he had been coaching at Warsaw high school eight years. "I was scared to death" was her comment on her first meeting him, an East star, Coach Fisher was a popular figure in any circle of society. One thing that drew them together was their mutual love of sports. She married him when she was 19.
For 15 years Mr. Fisher coached three sports, football, basketball and track. He had little time to spend with his family. Mrs. Fisher feel that today's coaches' wives are fortunate in as much as they supervise but one activity.
Football is her favorite sport, Mrs. Fisher said, "because I knew my husband enjoyed it the most." Naming the high school athletic field "Fisher Field" was a great honor, the proudest moment in her life. She said she and her husband were most grateful to the people of Warsaw, that she knew of no other place that had given so much honor and recognition to a coach. "We will always feel especially close to those who have done so much for us."
Mrs. Fisher is a beautiful and gracious person who has learned the value of patience, tolerance and self control, qualities that all might strive for as their own.
Burial site located at Block 34, Lot 28, Space 4
By L. H. (Bud) Pattison Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
Ray McArthur Completes 50 Years of Service as Village Blacksmith
October 1, marked the closing of 50 years of continuous service to the farmer and the horsemen of Warsaw and the surrounding community by Ray McCarthur, a village blacksmith who is the last in this community to play the anvil chorus. McArthur was born Aug. 22, 1889 in Benton Harbor, Michigan. At the age of eleven he moved to Warsaw with his father, John McArthur, better known to us as "Mac," his mother Alice Nye McArthur and his sisters Lenore and Elaine.
At the age of 16 Ray began his career of 50 years as a blacksmith and horseshoer with his uncle Frank Nye, the oldest blacksmith and horseshoer in the county at the age of 82. Ray started to work in a little frame building Frank Nye purchased from Gib Furlong, monument dealer and stone cutter, which was located at the southwest corner of Lake and Market streets. Ray started his trade like all journeymen, first removing the nuts and bolts from steel tired wagon and buggy wheels. In the old days everything had steel tires, a rubber tire wasn't even heard of. In dry seasons the fellow or wooden rim would dry out and the steel tire would become loose and rattle. The steel tires had to be placed in a fire, heated to a certain temperature and then put into cold water.
They had a large wooden tub filled with water, and inside the tub was a steel slated rack with a lever. The wheels were layered on this rack and the lever pulled to submerge the tires in the water. The temperature had to be just right and they had to be submerged several times in order not to get them too cold too quick. If they were cooled too fast they would contract too much, making them too small. This was a particular operation. After they were cool, they would be bolted fast. This job was called resetting tires.
The next step for the journeyman was to sharpen plow points. Then he would cork up shoes and get them ready for the fitter. Corking shoes meant to weld a piece of steel on the toe of the shoe and bend both ends around the anvil to make what they called a heel. The next step was trimming the horse's feet. The hoofs were similar to finger and toe nails, only much thicker and harder. Horses' hoofs grew in the same manner and every time that new shoes were put on, the feet would have to be trimmed. This was done with a paring knife and then they had to be rasped. A rasp was a coarse file. This smoothed up the feet.
Now the foot was ready for Uncle Frank to fit the shoe, which he heated in a forge. Good eye sight was required as the temper of the shoe was like all other steel, determined by the color of the heat. The hot shoe was shaped and sized to fit the horses hoof, then it was dipped in a tub of cold water several times until brought to the right temper. Now after Frank fitted the shoe then he would put from two, three or four holes in the side of the shoe. In some cases they would put five but that would be extra large shoes. Then he would use a special nail called a horse shoe nail, which was flat and came to a point, with an oblong head. Now the shoe was ready to nail on the hoof. After Uncle Frank would nail the shoe on, Ray was allowed to cut the nails off as they come through the hoof, using a special pair of nippers. Then he would clinch the nails with a hammer and smooth them off with a rasp. Then they painted the hoofs with an oil preparation to keep them from cracking. There were two trades in the horse shoeing business. Before you became a fitter you had to be a qualified floorman. A good floorman could keep two fitters busy.
Face Horse From Rear
In order to shoe a horse's front feet you faced the rear of the horse, picked up his front hoof and held it between your knees. For the rear hoofs you stretched the hind leg up over your knee. In other words you practically got under the horse.
Sometimes a horse would not stand so the journeyman had to take a broomstick a foot and a half in length with a hole drilled in the end and a leather strap about a foot long through the hole. This was called a twitch. You looped the leather over the horses upper lip then twisted it so tight that it took his mind off the horseshoer. Therefore he stood perfectly gentle. This was only applied to what we called in the old days outlaws and broncos that were brought in fresh from the west. I have seen native horses stand so perfectly gentle that one man would hold up the left front foot and other man hold up the right hind foot and put the shoes on them at the same time.
In Ray's 50 years he has shod from 250 pound Shetland ponies to Walter Drudge's of Claypool, 4,800 pound world champion pulling team. Ray worked for his Uncle Frank from 1905 to 1920, starting at six dollars a week. After 1920 he went into business for himself in a building on Indiana street on the ground of the present Center Ward school grounds. This building was torn down for the school. He then moved into a building on the wet side of Indiana street. In 1924 he built his present shop located at the rear of his home, 117 East Fort Wayne street where he is still operating the business.
Ray is not only a horseshoer but he also learned the blacksmith trade. Ray's best year of horseshoeing was in 1921 when he shod 1,478 horses. This year up to Oct. 1 he has shod only 99. So you see the horseshoeing business will be like the harness business and other trades. It will soon be a thing of the past.
4 Shops Here
At one time there were four horsing shops in Warsaw. There was hardly a time for 50 years that you couldn't hear an anvil ringing within a block of the court house. Harry Oram and Son blacksmith shop stood where the Cadillac garage is, Conrad and Son was located where the Warsaw Radio Shop is, Frank Nye, where the license bureau is and John Trish at the northwest corner of Center and Washington streets.
Mat Kirk came to Warsaw to work for Conrad and Son in 1900. They then advertised scientific horseshoeing, which gave the whole country-side something to talk about as scientific horseshoeing had never been heard of. Ray has seen the career of these three shops ended as well as the horseshoers and blacksmiths, namely: Johnny Gartee, Jimmy Johnson, Bob Johnson, Jimmy Beroth, Si Schutt, George Dome, Reuben Rough, Billy Bullers, Henry Baughman, Al Bumbaugh, George Oram, Bill Cook, John Trish, Earl Ly, "Plunk" Ed Kleckner, Fred Trish, Howard Fifer, Percy Justus, Matt Kirk and Frank Nye. Ray and Frank Nye are the only two survivors of this list.
Now Ray was a husky kid at 16, 180 pounds, six foot tall. How does this writer know that he was tough and strong? He was my wrestling partner. I only weighed 140 at 17 but only once he threw me and only once I threw him. We often wrestled for two hours and never a fall. He wrestled me just like he did the horses. That is what made him a good horseshoer. Our tie wrestle is yet to be finished. Ray says he will take me on when he retires at about 70.
Warsaw Times-Union Saturday, October 29, 1955
Burial site located at Block 33, Lot 12, Space 5
by Allee Gerard Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
'Scared Stiff of Instructor'
"Of all the places I have painted I like Kosciusko county the best and I would like to be know as a painter of its lakes and streams," Mrs. Allee Gerard, of Country Club drive, told The Times-Union women's editor during an interview.
Mrs. Gerard, whose biography appears in "Who's Who in American Artists" by the American Federation of Arts, and "Who's Who in the Midwest" by A. N. Marqauiss, is rapidly becoming just that-an artist whose work is identified with the beauties of Kosciusko county.
Her paintings, especially of the Tippecanoe river and its tributaries, have received recognition wherever she has had one-man shows or has entered them in competition. ... Upon request, Mrs. Gerard has generously written the following article for The Times-Union, hoping it might encourage those who have like talents to continue their work. (Editor)
As long as I can remember, creating things interested me and as a child I would rather draw and paint with watercolors than do my homework. For this I was sometimes punished at home and at school, and then again praised. My teacher had me draw pictures on the blackboard in colored chalk to decorate for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
At this time, art was not given much consideration. Artists generally had very little to live on, and few people had oil paintings in their homes. So, after graduation, I let myself be persuaded to take teacher training. I taught school for four years but the dream of being an artist never died.
I had been married 18 years and my son was 15 years old when Homer Davisson, one of our states fine landscape artists brought his class right into my front yard, on Country Club drive, Winona Lake. This looked like opportunity knocking at my door. I asked if I might join the class. Mr. Davisson did not seem very pleased, saying it was an advanced class and I would not fit in. I guess I must have looked so disappointed that he sold me a canvas board, primary colors and four brushes and said "Go off by yourself and paint something and tomorrow I'll see if you can join the class."
Using an old plate for a pallet and the bottom of an old ironing board for an easel, I painted the lake shore in front of the Burr Maish home. It was my first try with oils.
Scared stiff that Mr. Davisson would say "no," I could not swallow my dinner that night but to my relief he was very pleased next day with my picture, and after a couple of days told me that he predicted that now I had started painting, I would never quit. I studied with Mr. Davisson for several years until he told me "I had graduated."
During the winters of 1938 to 1941 I studied with Robert Connavale and Clinton Sheppard at the Miami Art school-also portrait painting with the late James Lunnon, of Coral Gables. Much help was received by studying the very fine books on art at the Warsaw library.
Members of the Warsaw Art club sponsored my first one-man show in November, 1943, at the Hotel Hays-a showing of 64 pictures.
In the next two years, one man show invitations came from many places-Fort Wayne Art museum, South Bend progress club, Peru Library gallery, sponsored by Art club, Rochester, Indiana, Tri-Kappa, Franklin college, sponsored by Tri-Kappa, Frankfort sponsored by Psi Iota Xi, Miami Beach Art center, public library, Mayfair Art Theatre, Miami, Hoosier Salon headquarters, Indianpolis, Anderson sponsored by Art club and Tri-Kappa and at Logansport, sponsored by Art club and Tri-Kappa.
During the years, I have been fortunate, as critics have awarded my paintings prizes at shows sponsored by the Hoosier Art Salon, Northern Indiana Salon, Hammond, and Fort Wayne Women's club. I received first in landscape for four years at Miami International show, and the Walter Walter's award for the most popular picture at the Women's club show, Miami.
Pictures have been exhibited many other places, including Indiana university, Wabash and Franklin colleges, Culver and Howe military academies, Ball State Teachers college, Smithsonian Institute and Federation of Women's club home, Washington, D.C., Friendship Gardens, Michigan City, Hoosier Salon, Blocks and Indiana Artists Show, Ayers, Indianpolis, Artrusia club, Gary, Lowe gallery, Miami university, Washington and Robinson galleries, Miami, Nortan gallery, West Palm Beach, and Mooresville library.
Pleasant and helpful have been my associations as a member of the Indiana Artists club, Indianapolis, National League of American Pen Women, Miami Beach, the Miami Art and Blue Dane leagues, of Miami and the American Professional league.
At the present time pictures are being exhibited at the Hoosier Salon Patrons association in Indianapolis, the Robinson galleries in Miami and the Swope gallery, Terre Haute.
To be told you have graduated is just when the real work begins. Pictures are not copies of nature. They must be so painted that all parts of the canvas are interesting. Choosing what to put in and what to leave out from the many things you see is the real test of the artist's ability.
One must always study, practice drawing and listen to the advice of others, try new methods and colors.
Warsaw Times Union Saturday Sept. 24 1955
Glen E. Wiltrout
Burial site located at Block 33, Lot 22, Space 2
Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
Body of Glen E. Wiltrout First Warsaw Man to Lose Life in World War II - Arrives Sunday in New York
Warsaw Sunday paid tribute to the first local man to lose his life in World War II when the transport Joseph V. Connolly arrived at New York with the bodies of 6,251 war dead, including Glen E. Wiltrout, boatswain's mate, second-class, son of Mrs. Marie Bussing, 313 West Main street.
Boatswain's Mate Wiltrout died Feb. 18, 1942, when the naval supply vessel U. S. S. Pollux was wrecked on the Newfoundland coast in a gale. One officer and 91 men on the Pollux and seven officers and 90 men on the destroyer Truxton were lost when the vessels, members of the same convoy, broke up in heavy surf whipped up by the howling North Atlantic gale.
Boatswain's Mate Wiltrout and a companion attempted to swim ashore through the icy surf. According to the companion, who reached shore, the last he saw of Wiltrout was when they jumped from the Pollux.
The body of the Warsaw sailor was recovered after the gale and was buried in the Fort McAndrew-Argentina temporary military cemetery in Newfoundland.
First Body Returned
The first county service man to lose his life in the war was also the first to be returned from overseas for final burial.
The casketed remains of Boatswain's Mate Wiltrout will arrive in Warsaw, accompanied by a uniformed navy escort from the Chicago distribution center of the American Graves Registration Division. The time of arrival is not now known.
The war dead aboard the Joseph V. Connolly were from the military cemeteries in Europe, Iceland and Newfoundland.
The transport moved into the muted harbor at New York after a rendezvous near the entrance with two destroyers which strew floral pieces on the water after brief religious ceremonies.
The flag-draped casket of a congressional medal of honor winner, chosen by the War department as the symbol of his fellows and whose identity will not be made public, rested on the boat deck of the transport. A guard of honor stood at the casket and blue jackets on the destroyers lined the rails at attention as army and navy installations in the harbor fired 21-gun salutes and war planes roared overhead.
Impressive Memorial Service
Another brief ceremony was held when the transport docked. The body of the fallen hero was borne from the ship by pallbearers representing all of the armed services and was placed on a caisson which was drawn by an armored car up Fifth avenue to Central park for memorial services.
Thousands lined the streets as the cortege marched along and church bells tolled. A halt was made at the Eternal Light in Madison Square, a memorial to the World War I dead.
At the Central park memorial service, Secretary of the Army Kenneth C. Royall represented the nation, Gov. Thomas E. Dewey the state of New York, and Mayor William O'Dwyer the city of New York. Maj.-Gen. Harry H. Vaughan, military aide to President Truman, placed a wreath on the coffin and a delegation from the United Nations was in the speakers' stand.
Bodies of the war dead will be unloaded at the Brooklyn army base within five days and 10 to 30 days are expected to elapse before the remains are turned over to next of kin.
Flags at Half-Mast
Flags in Kosciusko county and throughout the nation were flown at half-mast to honor the war dead.
Memorial services for Boatswain's Mate Wiltrout and ten other members of the Warsaw Methodist church who lost their lives in service were held in June of 1945.
The local sailor, a student of Warsaw high school, was serving his second enlistment in the navy when the Pollux disaster occurred. He had served at Norfolk, Va., and San Diego, Cal., had shipped through the Panama canal and had been on duty in Hawaii. He returned to the United states at the completion of his first enlistment but re-enlisted a few months later. The Pollux was operating in the North Atlantic out of Norfolk, Va.
Wiltrout was born on a farm south of Warsaw March 23, 1918. He left Warsaw high school in his junior years to enlist in the navy on Oct. 21, 1936. He was 24 years old when he lost his life. Survivors include the mother, a sister, Norma, and the father, Creed Wiltrout, of St. Paul, Minn.
Also returned aboard the Joseph V. Connolly was army Sgt. Walter Lockerbie, Jr., son of Walter Lockerbie, Sr., of 308 Sunset boulevard, Goshen.
Warsaw Daily Times, Monday Oct. 27, 1947 page 1 & 6
Burial site located at Block 44, Lot 4, Space 1
By Jo Ann Vrabel, Feature Writer. Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
Joe Ettinger: Dovetailed Into Cabinet Crafting
In 1962 the notable citizens of Warsaw celebrated and honored Joe Ettinger, of 818 East Main St., Warsaw, by naming him the town's man of the year.
During his lifetime in Warsaw, Ettinger served on numerous community boards including the American Red Cross, Cardinal Learning Center, Kosciusko County Mental Health Association, Alcoholic Beverage Commission and was director of the Warsaw Chamber of Commerce. He has been a long-time member of the American Legion, County Historical Society, Warsaw Kiwanis and Walnut Creek Church.
Not least among his achievements is the fact that he was the president of Zimmer-USA, (then Zimmer Manufacturing Co.) and aided Justin Zimmer to found the firm in the 1920's
But throughout his industrious life, as he worked with Zimmer to build the company and as he bolstered the community by serving on town and county civic boards, Ettinger prudently preserved his own private domain by creating and crafting cabinets and furniture of every description; butternut and walnut wood jewel cases, smooth, polished tables and silver chests skillfully, constructed and fit for any king or queen.
Born in Bourbon on Sept. 17, 1895, to Frank and Maude Ettinger, he moved to a farm south of Warsaw, near Walnut Creek, in 1900, before he was five years old. In that Walnut Creek area, on County Road 200 South, one-half mile west of the Walnut Creek Church, young Ettinger spent his child and adolescent life.
During those early years, he attended the Walnut Creek Grade School where he was taught by four instructors whom Ettinger considers outstanding teachers including Bertha (Wilderson) Redman, Rosa (McKrill) Cool, Bertha Zimmer and Lillian (Haines) Scott.
It is difficult to know what inspired young Ettinger to create the fine wood pieces he began to build. But it was sometime between 1908 and 1912, when he was attending Warsaw High School, that he realized his woodworking interest.
"My brother and I would drive into town in a horse and buggy at noon time and I would habitually loaf at a German's cabinet making shop which was located where the old Cumberland Hardware store once stood in Warsaw," reminisces Ettinger. "This German cabinetmaker was Robert Hitzler. He knew cabinet making from A to Z and I'd ask him all kinds of question about woodworking and he would always answer. He was very patient."
Ettinger adds that Hitzler built some of the furniture in the Kosciusko County courtroom including two large desks which Ettinger repaired and refinished for the county during his recent retirement years.
Beside hobnobbing with Hitzler, Ettinger enjoyed his noon visits with George Schrom, at Warsaw's Oram's Carriage Shop.
"Schrom was a carriagemaker and he was always good to me," recalls Ettinger.
"It seemed like I was drawn to woodworking. I'm sure as anything that woodworking is just born into you," contends Ettinger.
Though his farmer-father never crafted wood pieces, Ettinger's great-grandfather, Daniel Pittenger, and grandfather, John A. Pittenger, owned a now abandoned sawmill near Walnut Creek from as far back as 1836. Ettinger believes the ancestoral sawmill may also have influenced him to build with wood.
"I still have the roaming of that old mill," he says. "My grandfather and father would always encourage me and give me a board from there to use. Everybody who knows me still gives me a board!" he laughs.
With pleasant memories of the sawmill and noon visits and conversations with Hitzler and Schrom, Ettinger began crafting fine wood pieces in his spare time during his high school year and while he attended Winona College in 1912 and 1913.
After completing his first full-time year in Winona College, he began a teaching career, in a one-room county schoolhouse where the old Swihart School was once located, near Warsaw. There for one and one-half years, Ettinger taught all eight grades to 22 pupils. He estimates he had 40 different lessons to teach per day. And during the first three summers of his teaching work he continued to take courses at Winona College.
In December, 1914, the then Wayne Township Trustee A. JU. Wiltrout asked Ettinger to instruct manual shop to seventh and eighth graders at West Wayne School (now Washington School), in Warsaw. Besides teaching the shop class
Ettinger was further contracted to instruct fifth and sixth graders in general courses.
Ettinger states he enjoyed teaching the woodworking classes which were some of the first vocational course offerings in the Warsaw schools.
"The students in West Wayne toed the mark and had the finest discipline you can imagine," recalls Ettinger.
He attributes the remarkably good student behavior to the leadership in the 19-teens of the principal of West Wayne, Foster Jones.
"Foster Jones was one of the top teachers I ever associated with," says Ettinger. "He had a personality that is seldom equaled. The kids worshiped him."
Jones later principaled in the Warsaw West Ward School.
For approximately three years, Ettinger, taught in the West Wayne School. Then World War II shook Europe and the United States and Ettinger enlised in the army in 1917.
One month before he actually entered the army, Ettinger drilled in the local national guard in the Warsaw armory. He then stayed in a temporary camp in Warsaw, which was located which was located where the Litchfield Creamery presently stands. The temporary camp was a gathering place for soldiers preparing to leave for Fort Harrison, Indianapolis, where they would be combined with others to form regiments and fight in the war.
"Wife's Stabilizing Influence"
The night before Ettinger entered this temporary camp, on "Aug. 4, 1917, he was united in marriage to Nellie Hahn, now deceased. Ettinger attributes the successful life he led during his working years to his "good wife", whom he states was always a "stabilizing influence" on him.
After spending September, 1917, in Fort Harrison, Ettinger was shipped to Camp Shelby, Miss. On Oct. 1, 1917. Becoming a second lieutenant in the army field artillery, he continued to move with the military for 18 months going from Mississippi to Camp Taylor, Louisville, Ky., and ending his service in Fort Sill, Okla.
When he first entered the army, in the fall of 1917, Ettinger had fully intended to return to the teaching profession. But during those 18 months in the service he began to change his mind. School teaching was not lucrative though he enjoyed the work "as much as anything I've ever done.
Besides, at that time, in 1919, Ettinger's father-in-law, Jacob Hahn, asked him to farm the Hahn stead, located south of Warsaw. Ettinger accepted his father-in-law's offer and terminated his teaching career, though one daughter, one daughter-in-law and three grandchildren have followed Ettinger's early footsteps and are currently school instructors.
From 1919 to 1922 Ettinger cared for the Hahn farm, a typical homestead for the '20s which contained a few sheep, horses, cattle, hogs and grain fields. On that farm Ettinger's two oldest children were born: John Ettinger, presently in South Bend, and Evelyn Barnhart, residing in Indianapolis.
In 1922 Ettinger moved his family to Warsaw where he procured a winter job making cabinets in a furniture factory where Kinder Company is presently located.
"Making cabinets in that furniture factory was the only time I've used my knowledge of cabinet making to make a living," states Ettinger with a smile. "When I was a farmer I'd rather build a fence or fix tools. But, to tell you the truth, I didn't like to sit behind a team of horses and plow; I thought it was boring."
Probes New Endeavors
Though he loved the "cronies and friends" at the factory, Ettinger continued to investigate new opportunities to support his family which later expanded to four children when Esther (Ettinger) Lackey, of Warsaw, and Bill Ettinger, of Mentone, were born in 1925 and 1928 respectively.
One day Ettinger's neighbor suggested he see a young man named Justin Zimmer about a job. Young Zimmer was, at that time, sales manager for DePuy Manufacturing Company, Warsaw. DePuy founded in 1895, is a manufacturer of orthopedic equipment.
In March, 1923, Zimmer hired Ettinger to sell DePuy's splints throughout Ohio and Michigan and also in Indiana and Pennsylvania. For four years Ettinger traveled across states and sold DePuy's goods.
"Then early in 1927, around February, Justin Zimmer called me into his office and much to my surprise said, 'I'm going to start my own business and I want you to be my factory superintendent'," recalls Ettinger.
Answering Zimmer's offer, Ettinger replied, "All right. I'll go with you. I've tried to talk you out of this before, but this time I'll go with you."
Zimmer Firm Born
From that conversation, Zimmer aided by Ettinger, and backed by William Rogers and William Felkner, began to build the Zimmer firm, presently a multi-million dollar business which sells orthopedic equipment and goods to more than 100 countries throughout the world.
Within the first two to three months after Zimmer determined to build his firm, an amazing amount of work was completed. The first tasks were to develop a line of orthopedic equipment and to lay out a catalogue of items which the company would offer to sell.
Ettinger was handed the extremely difficult job of designing arm and leg splints and fracture beds which Zimmer would market in competition with other orthopedic equipment companies. Ettinger and Zimmer both agreed they would not copy orthopedic splint patterns used by DePuy and so the little cabinet maker began building and designing original Zimmer products in his basement, where his woodworking shop is now located.
Also Dr. C. F. Lytle helped arrange the first Zimmer "catalogue" and offered suggestions for refining the line of orthopedic equipment that Ettinger was designing. With Dr. Lytle's suggestions, and aided by mechanics, Ettinger produced a Zimmer line of arm and leg splints and fracture beds which were later patented.
Ready for Market
"In May 1927 only three short months after Justin Zimmer first announced the birth of his company, a display of samples that the Zimmer Company would offer for sale, was presented to doctors in Washington, D.C.
"We ran a one-horse show at first: from a few persons and nothing," states Ettinger. "But from the beginning sales were good because Zimmer had sales managing ability and a good line of products.
Originally the Zimmer Company "employed" only four persons, Ettinger states. The first workers included Mrs. Roy Cox, bookkeeper; Justin Zimmer, who assembled the sales force; Ettinger; and Dr. Lytle.
Later in 1927 Ettinger met Raymond Zimmer, a distant cousin of Justin Zimmer who was a mechanical genius, according to Ettinger. Among Zimmer's mechanical talents was his skillful ability to weld and solder aluminum, an unusual knowledge in the 1920s. Ettinger states the mechanic Zimmer was invaluable to the company because of his expertise in handling aluminum for the orthopedic goods.
Basement Shop Moved
Since Zimmer sales were good from its beginning, the company's shop soon moved from Ettinger's basement to the corner of Detroit and Arthur streets, Warsaw. And Ettinger began buying tools for the company shop's new home. The first Zimmer factory contained only a punch press, sheet metal forming equipment, a welding torch and various small tools such as hammers and tin snips.
"The company worked with a minimum of equipment," explains Ettinger. But from the time the firm was created it "grew like tops," Ettinger says, adding that another valuable participant of the early Zimmer company was Bob Delp. Even during the depression, which began in October, 1929, the firm continued to sell its equipment.
"During 1930 though 1932 Zimmer sales dipped, but not too badly. There was never a time that employees at the company worked less than 40 hours per week, except for two weeks in 1933 when we asked them to only work 35 hours per week. Much of the time, even during the depression, employees were still working for overtime pay. And the company met payroll every week exept for one time during the depression," reports Ettinger.
Ettinger admits amazement about the little company which grew from a basement workshop in 1927 to an international firm, currently with subsidiaries in Paris, France; Brussels, Belgium; Toronto, Canada; and North Carolina; and three locations in Warsaw including Boggs Industrial Park and Detroit Street.
"Zimmer-USA has exceeded the wildest dreams of its originators by continuing to grow at a fantastic rate," explains Ettinger.
What is the secret of Zimmer-USA? Why has it been so successful? "Any successful company must have quality accounting and manufacturing and a good sales force," answers Ettinger. Any firm that's weak in any of those areas is headed for trouble. It's like a three legged stool; it must be sold on all three sides."
Beginning in 1932 while working full-blast at Zimmer, Ettinger farmed his father-in-law's stead which he had purchased. Though his four children loved the farm, Ettinger decided to move back to town in 1936 because the stead proved to be a rather unprofitable venture.
Holding practically every office in the Zimmer company, Ettinger became president of the firm in 1951, when Justin Zimmer died. In 1954 Ettinger retired from the presidential position, accepting chairmanship on the corporation's board of directors until the late 1950s when he completely detached himself from business duties. James Hartle succeeded Ettinger in 1954, followed in 1969 by current president J. Alan Morgan. In 1972 Zimmer-USA merged with Bristol-Myers.
"I often said I wanted to retire early from Zimmer," exxplains Ettinger, "because I had lots of things I've wanted to do. And the main thing is cabinet work; it's my hobby, it's my outlet. Just like some people play golf, I like to do woodworking," he smiles.
Besides witnessing the growth of Zimmer-USA, Ettinger has watched changes occurring in the complexion of Warsaw.
"I've seen everything from the first pavements built over cobblestone in 1900 or 1901 in the main part of town to the radical change of the business district here, though Warsaw has not changed as much as a good many town," notes Ettinger.
"For a long time Warsaw was industrially static," explains Ettinger. "Then somewhere between the first and second world wars, industry began to be attracted to Warsaw. I believe it was the lakes that did it: they were desirable places for company employees to live. I have been amazed at the building around the lakes here. For example, before World War I, Wawasee was nothing. The lakes were there all the time but nobody seemed to notice them until between the two world wars.
Content In Shop
Though changes continue in Warsaw Ettinger, the grandfather of 17 children and great-grandfather of 15, is content to work quietly and busily in his basement shop, complete with bench and filled with hammers, chisels, planes, vices and tools of every description. Recently he has expertly created 50 walnut jewel boxes for gifts to relatives and close friends and has begun carving a tawny-brown eagle simply "for my own edification," he says.
With a dove-tail joint as his trademark, the work he does now is a continuation of the first boards he crafted when he felt the roaming of the old Pittenger sawmill; or when he carefully built the blonde-wood silver chest for his wife, Nellie, during their courtship in the mid-19-teens; or when in the 1950s, he built the chancels and cabinets for the Walnut Creek Church.
Though Ettinger values the leadership positions he's held in business and community organizations, in his golden years he's chosen to return to his gentle woodworking craft because:
"It a fine recreation," he smiles, then pauses. "I've done woodworking all my working life. When I get down on my bench I can just work and forget about the world."
Warsaw Times Union Spotlight (date)
Miss Rozella Ford
Burial site located at Block 24, Lot 28, Space 4
By Marguerite Sand, Times-Union Women's Editor. Transcribed by Marge Priser and entered on yesteryear.clunette.com.
County's 'First Lady of Land' Very Successful
Miss Rozella Ford, Kosciusko county's most successful lady farmer, has operated farms with know-how usually attributed to men since 1912.
"Farming has changed a great deal since earlier days," Miss Ford said. "It is less diversified and more mechanized. Changes during the years have in most part improved the lot of the farmer, but there are instances where the old practices were better."
Miss Ford did not elaborate on the above statement, but knowing her love of the land we are sure that she had good reason for making it. Her home, a charming early American structure built in 1861, is located on a 400-acre farm in Wayne township, southwest of Warsaw. The other farm, 226 acres is located in Seward township, near Burket.
The house, white with green shutters, is a landmark standing on a slope dotted with pines. It was built for a Dr. Little by Franklin Charles, maternal grandfather of Al Boggs of South Detroit Street.
Twenty years later it became the property of Mrs. Ford's parents, Daniel and Harriet (Weirick) Ford. Prior to this they had lived to the northeast on an adjoining 80-acre farm in a little house known as "The Pines" This is now a part of the present farm.
Father a Doctor
A practicing physician, who had studied at the University of Michigan, Dr. Daniel Ford devoted his full-time to farming when he was forced to give up his profession because of ill health.
The Fords, one of the oldest families in the county, came here from Virginia in 1836. Miss Ford's grandfather, Henry Ford, first lived on a farm on Yankee street south of Warsaw. Father of 11 children, he wanted them to have a good education. To make it more advantageous he moved his family closer to Warsaw. Here the children attended Jane Cowan's seminary. Mrs. Cowan was the great-grand mother of the Misses Miriam and Semaramis Kutz and Mrs. Mary Babcock of Warsaw and Winona Lake.
Miss Ford's mother, Harriet, was the daughter of Jacob Weirick. One of the first directors of the Lake City Bank he was a teacher and Franklin township farmer.
Harriet Ford died in 1893, leaving her husband, daughter and a son, I. W. Ford. Although Miss Ford's responsibilities had been increased by the death of her mother, her father encouraged her to further her education saying, "you will have a richer life for having had the experience." Taking his advice, she attended DePauw university where she was a Kappa Kappa Gamma.
While at the university Miss Ford's father suffered a paralytic stroke. Returning home she took over the management of the land. Her brother, a graduate of Indiana University School of Medicine was already practicing in Syracuse.
As the years went by, Miss Ford has found it necessary to limit operations on the farm. George Creakbaum has been her right hand man for the past 17 years. Today she has 100 blooded Shorthorns and more than 100 Hampshire hogs. Crops are limited to corn, oats, hay and grass.
The Creakbaums have in Miss Ford's own words "been very good to me." All the sons have as they grew up worked on the farm, and the two girls still at home give her an assist with the housework. All are interested in her welfare and are a source of companionship.
Farm interest comes before self-interest. Last fall Miss Ford debated buying a television set or a corn mulcher-she bought the latter. Clean fields, free of corn borer meant more to her than entertainment. She did not consider it a sacrifice for she enjoys reading and is a radio fan.
Miss Ford has traveled considerably in the United States, Canada and Mexico. Now she does not attempt too long trips. During her travels she is as a rule on the lookout for antiques and other beautiful objects which have made her home a delightful place to live.
Beautiful old furniture, some pieces of which are family heirlooms, Oriental rugs, fine china, paintings, gleaming crystal chandeliers, books and curios enhance the interior of the old house, and attest to the varied interests of its occupant
Rare and Beautiful
There's a teakwood stand from China, a bit of fine lace from San Salvador, hand-painted china lamp bases, rare old lusterware. The painting over the mantle is a winter scene done in oils by local artist, Allee Gerard. An appealing portrait study of Mary Elizabeth Boggs, of Beaver Dam, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Boggs, is the work of a Spanish artist. Mr. Boggs, an archaeologist, and his family lived in San Salvadore 20 years.
Because of her many interests, Miss Ford is young for her years. She is a 60-year-member of the Warsaw Methodist church, is active in the Agnes Pruyn Chapman chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, Tri Kappa sorority, Zerelda Reading club and West Wayne Home Demonstration clubs. She likes to cook and raise flowers.
Politically Miss Ford has followed in her father's footsteps. She said, "He was a Democrat and I've been one all my life." It will be remembered that in former years Miss Ford was quite prominent in local and county Democratic circles.
"I am never lonely. If you are lonely it is usually your fault," Miss Ford remarked. At Christmas she give a Christmas party for the Creakbaums and other neighbors. Friends bring guests to meet her and see her home, and they , as we did, appreciate its beauty and the graciousness of its owner.
End of Tour 1