I had a "moment" this afternoon

I am on a Facebook page about Dayton, Emerson School, and was on it doing some posting.

This one, well, brought tears. That is my Dad, probably in the 50's, holding a baby  in for it'six weeks checkup. This was Jane Hamton she commented, "The baby in the foto is me. I always thought we had the same jowls..." A 50 or so year old photograph of my Father holding a baby  he had delivered.

He started doing this when Polaroid came out, did hundreds of photographs.  Charlotte Baker, his secretary would take the photograph of Dad holding the baby. He bought the film by the case.

My thanks to Jane Hamton, she has no idea what that meant to me. Behind his head are two photographs of his grandchildren. One is Jane Dooley, my niece, daughter of my Brother, Dean Shannon Dooley, who presently lives in Michigan, the other, Debra Lenora Dooley, my daughter, who lives in New York. They were Dad's first grandchildren. I won't go in to their ages at this time.

I think he started doing these in 1948 or so, and all through the 50's.

Clyde Stewart

One Summer, not sure when, a family friend, Charlie Parlette and friend of my brother, had a company that cut and sold ..... sod ...... Perhaps as dirty and tough a job as there is. I tried my hand at it, did a little work, but I think I gave up, just too much.

To use this thing, you crouched down, with the knee behind that curved handle, the blade in the sod to be cut, and they you would push your arm, with you knee, to cut the sod. I had blisters on the back of my right arm, and also on my leg, between the knee and the hip. Grueling, hot, work.

Charlie would find a farmer with a nice field, rent it, mow the grass down and then the cutting crew would to their job. The farmer ended up with a nice field of dirt, which he could then plow and plant.

He had a big old flatbed truck which we would stack with the sod and deliver to town where it had been previously sold. We generally unloaded it and in many cases, laid the sod in the prepared yard.

Charlie was a Steele Graduate, '39, in my brothers class. He and Red Wallace were two of my brothers friends, and they spent many hours in the back of 319 South Brown, playing basketball on the concrete floor of an old garage that had been torn down. It was a neighborhood gathering place, A game every summer evening, neighbors, friends, some got pretty rough.

OK, Clyde Stewart. During WWII Dayton was a hub for wartime manufacturing, many plants converted to war effort products. There was an influx of people from West Virginia, Kentucky, all over. Especially from Kentucky, the closest state. "Briarhoppers" were everywhere, as they were called.

One Friday afternoon, Clyde Stewart told us he was taking a week off, going on vacation. "Going back to Kentucky to  visit your relatives, Clyde.?"

"No, all my relatives live here in Dayton!"

Dayton Memoriies One...

Went to school here. Emerson, 1-6. No longer a school. It was a large school, not sure of enrollment. Mrs. Prather was my first grade teacher, and that is about all I remember. Mr. Whitworth, Mr. Nicely and Mr. Schwinn, names I remember.

Walked to school every day, about six or seven blocks, still not sure how I got across Brown Street, very busy thoroughfare. Margie Guild, a neighbor and older friend may have had something to do with it, may have walked with her.

We moved out to Oakwood in '43, and I took the Brown Street bus each day, back and forth, to finish the sixth, and then started in at Oakwood in the seventh. I remember something about the bus rides, nothing about school, though.

One year, 6th or 7th, I was a crossing guard. Had that white belting AND  that Badge, so proud. My corner was a few blocks from the school, not sure if the streets are even there. I did go to Google and did the visual thing and found the building across from the school that used to be a little grocery store. Sometimes got a hamburger there, my Mom told me not too, which even made it better. The little old lady owner would fry them and then keep them in a broth, all day, not sure if the broth ever changed. My Mom saw the store once, and warned me ever after.

319 South Brown and Emerson had a great impact on my life. Many of my early memories are from back there. The old garage, the basketball court, the alley, milk and bakery delivered by horse drawn carriage type things, the ice man the "rag picker" going down the alley, the neighbors, my most vivid memories of my youth are there. All the hours spent around the old Philco Radio, and of course, Mom and Dad, by Brother and Sadie. I will get in to her later.

Born in Dayton

I was born in Dayton, September 30,1932, went away to school in 1950, and have spent little time there since. But, I have realized how important and historically significant the city is. I want to record some of my reflections on the town. All are welcome to contribute.