Sunday, December 22, 2013

History of the Adam and Susan Royer Family


Cecil Royer, my uncle, wrote this history in 1968.  I have edited it; and added some pictures and newer details in 2013.




From French and Swiss and German climes,
The Royers, Roofs in early times
Came to America by sea,
To build a home in land of free.

With Franklin Township, Section Twelve,
Coshocton County soil to delve,
They won together land hard-got,
And turned it to a beauty spot.

Don't let it be forgot,
That once there was this spot.



This history is dedicated to our parents, grandparents, great grandparents and great-great grandparents, and uncles and aunts who were its principal characters.


Cecil Royer

June 2nd, 1968


THE CHAPEL


The last time I was there the sunlight was slanting off the gold gilt of the Chapel cross. On four corner stones, the diminutive structure with slate roof and full sized stained glass windows sat shining with a new coat of white. Leading to its only door were three steps of rough stone slab, lying rather un-square and un-level. The door key was between the third and second slabs.

Inside, walls newly decorated radiated sky-blue. Six short pews of weathered hard-wood with kneeling benches of the same material were still there, set in three rows on either side of the narrow aisle. The altar was placed with a white cloth, candles and a cross.

From the east wall a stern, heavily framed portrait of Aunt Ann Royer was looking across the small room. From the opposite wall a similar portrait of her husband Uncle Martin Royer was peering. Financed by them, the Chapel had been built to mark the site occupied by the original church building.

The well-kept lawn was green and vibrant. The beautiful statuary of the cemetery was standing in front of purple shrubbery in silent reverence to those departed long ago, while two towering pine trees at the north were whispering in the breeze.  As I walked on the soft moss covered ground into the shade of the pines, flowers planted long ago were scenting the air.

Here still standing, were two leaning tablets of white stone, marking the last resting places of Nicholas and Ann Lego Royer, progenitors of Coshocton County Royers.  Close by was a footstone fashioned as a lamb reclined in sleep, marking the grave of Pearlie, their granddaughter who had drowned in the run.

From this vantage point of the Chapel plot in my mind's eye, the rolling lands of the original Royer homestead lay north, west and south. I was born and raised there.




THE NICHOLAS AND ANN ROYER FAMILY


In the year of 1800 Nicholas Royer was born in the Province of Alsace-Loraine, France. He played and matured near the German border in the upland Lorraine plateau, just northwest of the Vosges Mountains.  The location of the Royer home here has been described as being halfway between Strasbourg in Alsace and the fortified city of Metz in Lorraine, a district rich in iron.

The medieval experiences of early Royer ancestors can only be conjectured from a brief history of these provinces. Until their incorporation in the kingdom of France, the histories of these provinces had been quite distinct. The name Lorraine is derived from Lotharingia, the kingdom of Charlemagne's grandson Lothair. French Lorraine represented a district known in early medieval times as Upper Lorraine.  Though tributary to the Holy Roman Empire, Upper Lorraine became more and more closely related to France.  Ruled by the dukes of Lorraine until the 18th century, it was then for a time in the possession of Stanislas, ex-king of Poland. At his death it passed under the sovereignty of France.

Alsace, a territory lying in the upper Rhine valley, has been throughout its history, disputed territory.  The Romans, on entering Gaul, found this district inhabited by Celtic tribes. The Celts in time were supplanted by the Teutons, and the whole territory gradually came under German sway. From the 7th century, Alsace was governed by petty princes and other dignitaries, later by the dukes of Swabia, and finally by the Hapsburgs. Between the years of 1648 and 1697, Alsace became partly incorporated with France and was subsequently taken through force of arms by Louis XIV.  Accordingly, by the Treaty of Ryswick, 1697, it came entirely under the domination of France (2).

Ann Lego, future bride of Nicholas Royer, was born in France in 1802. She probably was a better-than-average educated lady for that day as she enjoyed the title of "schoolmistress".  Here in Lorraine near the German border where the family dwelt the schools were conducted bi-lingually, in the French language in the morning and in the German language in the afternoon. 

In France, Nicholas by occupation was a stage-coach driver and an inn-keeper. He was a proprietor of an inn located on the Strausbourg, Alsace - Metz, Lorraine road, midway between the two cities.  Although inn keeping was his principal business, he was quite proficient in several skills, such as 'cooperage', 'masonry', 'carpentry' and many other crafts. 

In temperament Nicholas was of a pronounced independent spirit, rebelling at restraint. He was of short build, but exceedingly stout.  "Chris" Royer once told my father Charles that John Royer of Conotton, Ohio was very much like Nicholas in spirit and build.

To the union of Nicholas Royer and Ann Lego six boys and two girls were born who grew to manhood and womanhood: Martin, Dennis, Prosper, Dominick, Joseph and Adam; and Christine, who married Stephen Salrin, and Malinda, always called Aunt Linn, who married Jacob Aschbaker. All were born in France.  Adam, the youngest, in 1842, May 17th.
  
1844 was a year of great decision.  At the age of 44, Nicholas Royer, the man of independent spirit, not too big but very stout, embarked with Ann and their eight children from France for America.  Adam, the youngest, was two years of age.  From a sailing vessel bound westward into the turbulent Atlantic Ocean, they bade their native France farewell.  The voyage was long and rigorous, which no doubt taxed the endurance and patience of all.  As all other emigrants in those days, they came 'steerage', not 'first class'.  All the emigrants aboard the ship occupied the hold, a large space or room in the interior of the bounding vessel, where they ate, slept and lived for many months.  What plans for a new life in a new world they must have dreamed during the calmer hours of the voyage!  And during the turbulent days what courage they must have drawn from their venturesome spirits!  They first touched American soil at New Orleans, at the mouth of the great Mississippi river.



 At New Orleans, they took passage on a river steamer and proceeded upstream through the heart of the new country. As the river packet glided smoothly past Natchez, Vicksburg, Memphis, turned at Cairo into the broad Ohio River, the Royers were seeing America for the first time. Then Louisville, Cincinnati and Huntington floated away in the distance. Arriving at Marietta, they changed to another boat of shallower draft and ascended the Muskingum River to Zanesville, Ohio, head of inland navigation.


The long journey was ended. It had consumed 120 days, or four months of time.  Nicholas Royer and family were greeted at Zanesville by the Erman family, old friends and neighbors in France who had preceded them to America, and were entertained by them for a time.  However, Nicholas at once purchased 72 acres of land near the present village of Sonora in Muskingum County, Ohio, where he established a home.

At the time of his emigration to America, Nicholas's parents were still living in Alsace-Lorraine and were very desirous of joining the family here.  Dennis, the eldest son, returned to France for the purpose of bringing them to America.  Both parents embarked on the long voyage to the new home, but owing to the rigors of an ocean trip died enroute and were buried at sea.

At Sonora, Nicholas followed his cooperage trade.  The barrels he made were hauled to Zanesville for sale, which in those days were in great demand, as many products of the farm were shipped in them.

Nicholas’ house at Sonora burned to the ground, but good neighbors turned misfortune into good fortune for Nicholas.  His neighbors, in the spirit of the times, all joined together and built another house, which was reputed to be superior to the destroyed structure.


In 1851 Nicholas sold his land at Sonora and moved his family to Coshocton County, where he purchased from the John Dahy heirs for $775 eighty acres of land lying in the southeast quarter of Section 12, Franklin Township. Later, he purchased 200 adjoining acres lying to the south and engaged in the occupation of farming.  These tracts of land constituted the original "Royer Home Place".  On the latter tract, he built a frame house, which occupied the site used later as a garden by Harvey Royer.

On February 13, 1874 Nicholas Royer died. On November 1st the same year, Ann followed him to the grave.

The grandchildren of Nicholas and Ann Royer by each child, with the names of each grandchild's spouse where known in (brackets), and other identifying names in quotes, are as follows:

MARTIN: Christopher, Agustus, Frances (Lauvray), Catherine (Bordenkircher), and Clara.
DOMINIC: John, William "Minic's Will", Agnes (Milton Hiddle), and Belle (Abner Dover), and George.
PROSPER: William "Big Will", Prosper, and Mary (Samuel Seigrist)

JOSEPH: Anna (Albert Cook), Sadie (never married), and William "Little Will".

CHRISTINE (Stephen Salrin): Mary (Hufford), Julia (Hufford), and Elizabeth (John Roahrig), and Amanda (Salrin).
ADAM (Susan Roof): The names of these grandchildren follow under the account of THE ADAM AND SUSAN ROYER FAMILY.


THE BERNHARDT AND SUSANNAH ROOF FAMILY



Susan Roof, future bride of Adam Royer, was the daughter of Bernhardt Roof and Susannah Michael Roof. Bernhardt Roof was born in 1815 in Baden, a province of Germany. He immigrated to America as a young man and was naturalized in 1841. He resided in Roscoe, Ohio for a number of years and worked on the Ohio Canal.  Accumulating sufficient capital from this and other employment, he purchased 80 acres of land in Linton Township of Coshocton County in 1868.

Susannah Michael, daughter of David and Margaret Michael and a native of Goldi, Bern, Switzerland was born in 1823.  She came to America in 1834 when she was eleven years of age.  She retained a vivid memory of her native Switzerland and enchanted her grandchildren with stories of the "old country", as native lands were always referred to by emigrants. Her people lived in the mountains, of course, as all Switzerland is mountainous. My father, her grandson, has recounted with delight her stories of driving the cows up the mountain slopes in the morning, tending to them while pasturing during the day, and driving them back the slope in the evening to their quarters for milking.  Her most vivid and repeated descriptions were about the "beautiful edelweiss flowers" that grew on the mountainsides.


Edelweiss flowers

Bernhardt and Susannah Roof were the parents of seven children who grew to adulthood and married: Susan, who married Adam Royer; John, who married Elizabeth Roller; Saul, who married Margaret Kaufman; Abraham, who married Minnie Sandel; Mary, who married John Martter; Anna, who first married George Roller and after his decease John Jackson; and Alice, the youngest who married Thomas Stockum.

Susannah Roof died in 1901 and is buried in St. John's Lutheran Cemetery, where Bernhardt also is buried in Linton Township Coshocton.

Susan Roof, who married Adam Royer, was born January 28th, 1845.
(1) Taken from notes of an address by Charles Royer, presented at the Second Annual Reunion of the Adam & Susan Royer family Plainfield, Ohio, Sunday June 7, 1953.
(2) Lincoln Library.

THE ADAM AND SUSAN ROYER FAMILY

After Nicholas, the story of the "Home Place" is that of the Adam and Susan Royer family.  Adam and Susan Michael Roof were united in marriage November 10, 1868.  Adam, Nicholas's youngest son, acquired the land through the will of his father by paying each of the six heirs $1200.

Adam improved the land by the construction of several new buildings.  He first built a large barn, usually painted red.  Later in 1884, he replaced the frame house with a two-story home of red brick.  The brick were baked on the site from clay off the farm.  Located on a flat between the run lined with willow trees and a lane on the northeast and a low hill planted in orchard on the southwest the new home was a show place against a backdrop of orchard foliage.  The structure contained eight large rooms, three walk in presses and a small press, two halls and two stairways, all with 12' ceilings.

Gracing the interior were hallways, doorways, windows, including a large bay window of finished woods from the farm. A unique winding stair led to the upper level. The newel post and the posts supporting the handrail were turnings of various hardwoods, placed in the case in repeated patterns of wood types, while the treads were cherry and the risers were chestnut. The parlor was finished in chestnut, and the dining room in walnut. Six rooms ere equipped with fireplaces and slate mantles. Even a special niche was framed in the living room wall for a Seth Thomas clock.

In the cavernous cellar a coal-fired central heating furnace was built-in, a unique feature for the times. Separate rooms contained many shelves and bins for winter storage of apples, potatoes, canned fruit and other provisions. Ceilings were equipped for hanging of cured hams. A long hallway provided space for several barrels of cider and wine.

Such was the home Adam and Susan built.

Old Royer Homeplace

To the union of Adam and Susan Royer ten children were born, all at the Home Place in Franklin Township.

ALICE JANE ROYER, born April 3, 1869;
JOHN NICHOLAS ROYER, born January 28, 1871;
EMMA AGNES ROYER, born January 20, 1873;
CORA MAY ROYER, born December 1, 1875;
HARVEY EDWARD ROYER, born February 28, 1878;
DELLA ANN ROYER, born August 16, 1879;
CLEMENCE A. ROYER, born November 22, 1881;
CHARLES ELMER ROYER, born September 6, 1884;
PEARLIE ODESSA ROYER, born February 19, 1887;
SHIRLEY IRENE ROYER, born May 27, 1890.


All these children spent their childhood and reached adulthood on the Home Place, except Pearlie who at the age of 3 years and 3 months strayed to the run and drowned (May 4, 1890).

Their early years here were during an age when the essentials of living were still largely produced and fabricated at home.  Hand craft, hand labor and animal power were exclusively employed to operate the farm.  Alternately, playing some and then assisting their father in operating the farm, the boys during the summer followed a rugged outdoor life.  Tools of the times were such as wheat cradles, corn slashers, scythes, corn spuds, hoes, axes, hatchets, husking peg; and horse drawn soil preparing implements such as plows, discs, harrows, corn planter, drills, spreaders and cultivators; harvesting implements such as mowers, rakes and binders; and conveyances for the summer such as wagons, buggies and surreys and for the winter sleds and sleighs.

The girls were experts at clothing fabrication, cooking, canning winter provisions, housekeeping, gardening, and even helping in the fields.  Susan Royer was especially adept at beautifying the home and surroundings with flowers. The bay window overflowed with blooms, while outside she planted and cultivated many beds of colorful flowers at strategic locations.

Hearty meals were prepared in the kitchen on a coal-fired range, with a lid lifter at hand and a scuttle of bright-black coal and poker nearby on the floor.  Bread, cakes mixed at home from long standing recipes, and pastries made of elderberries, blackberries, currants and fruits which abounded on the place, were baked in the range's oven.

Laundering was accomplished with tubs, corrugated boards and homemade soap.  Washed clothes were hung on outside lines for drying in bright sunshine and clean air.

Light for the nighttime was by kerosene lamps whose glass chimneys and cotton wicks needed frequent attention. Kerosene lanterns provided illumination for outdoor nighttime walking and in the barn.

During the winter months, the children pursued education at eight-grade school of Pine Grove. The one and a half mile dirt road up the valley to the one-room school in the grove was walked each school day each way through sunshine, rain or snow sometimes knee-deep, carrying books and pre-packed lunches.

The floor plan of the frame school building was about square. Dividing rows of desks and seats was a wide center aisle with a cast iron, coal-fired stove located midway for comfort heat during the cold winter months.  In a front cross aisle a desk and chair were set where the teacher presided over the school.  Behind the teacher's desk the entire width of the wall was equipped with slate black-boards, chalk and erasers.  Because paper and pencils were either unavailable or too expensive, each pupil had a small slate and chalk of his own for individual use.  Each grade marched to the front row recitation benches at the call of the teacher - "first grade reading", "third grade writing", "eighth grade arithmetic", "sixth grade English", "seventh grade history", etc. At their desks the pupils studied their textbooks, wrote on their slates, or listened to other classes recite. Surprisingly enough, a large percentage of the pupils gained an excellent elementary education.

All the Royer children were apt pupils, having inherited a scholastic talent from the Roofs.  Shirley was reputed to have been able to read and recite at the age of three.  Charles continued his education at Conesville High School, West Bedford College and West Lafayette College to obtain a teacher's certificate.

Social life was largely confined to the community and near-by communities.  Socials, dances, school programs, church activities were affairs contemplated with delight.  One of the most genuine social joys was the exchange between neighboring families of a Sunday visit.  Hitching up the tassel topped surrey with the best gaited horses, and dressed in their very best clothing, the family would drive out in the early, clear morning through the beautiful, sunshine bathed countryside to a neighbor's home, arriving in time for a delicious, many-course dinner, and staying the afternoon for an exchange of conversation.

Royers have always subscribed to the Christian religion, supporting at various times both branches, the Catholic and the Protestant.  The Nicholas Royer family, originating in France, was devout Catholics. The Adam Royer families became devout supporters of the Lutheran church and were members of the St. Paul Lutheran Church of Franklin Township.

In 1907, Adam and Susan Royer retired from the farm, and purchased a home on Seventh Street, Coshocton.  Adam died at Coshocton in 1910 and is buried in the South Lawn Cemetery.  Susan Royer died in 1925 and is buried beside her husband.

Susan

All members of the family married and established homes of their own.  John, Harvey and Clemence followed a life-time of farming, while Charles taught school for several years, farmed for several years, served as County Recorder for two terms and retired as an abstractor of title. The girls married enterprising men of various occupations. A list of each member, life span dates, their spouse, major residences and occupation is as follows:

NAME LIVED MARRIED LIVED RESIDENCE OCCUPATION
- --
Alice 1869-1937 Joseph Spring 1863-1952 Coshocton, Industrial

John 1871-1943 Eliza Stockum 1871-1937 Ellis, Farmer, Conotton
Emma 1873-1925 Emmett Barcroft 1871-1954 Coshocton,             Grocer

Cora 1875-1962 Howard Sandel 1869-1941 Dresden, Farmer
Harvey 1878-1957 Lulu Stagmyer 1886-1969 Franklin Twp, Farmer

Della 1879-1946 Edward Stockum 1877-1947 Linton Twp,             Storekeeper
Coshocton, Farmer, Deputy Recorder, Industrial

Clemence 1881-1957 Ida Kaufman 1887-     Franklin Twp,             Farmer W. Lafayette

Charles 1884-1967 Nora A Sandel 1884-1947 Franklin Twp, Teacher, Coshocton, Farmer, Recorder, Abstractor; lived for a few years near the end of his life with Cecil in Elmhurst, Ill.
Shirley 1890-1923 Melvin Lapp 1885-1968 Linton Twp Farmer

After Adam and Susan Royer retired to Coshocton, the “Home Place” was operated for a number of years by Clem and Ida Royer.  Everett Royer was born in the red brick house.  The Clem and Ida purchased a farm in the northern part of Franklin and Linton Townships where they moved.

The “Home Place” was then divided.  Harvey and Lulu acquired the part lying south of S.R. #76 where they lived in the house and farmed the land for many years.  Their children were raised there.  To the acreage, they added the Getwood place.


CHARLES ROYER – NORA ANNETTA SANDEL FAMILY


The original 80 acres purchased from the Dahy heirs, lying north of S.R. #76, was the home of Charles and Nora Royer for many years.  They lived in the frame house, which along with the barn had been built by Susan Royer.  Cecil and Cozette Royer were raised there.  To the house, they added a large kitchen and to the acreage, they added the Amore and Schaik Places.  Charles worked as a teacher, farmer, County Recorder, and Abstractor of Title in Coshocton County; he lived for a few years near the end of his life with Cecil in Elmhurst, Ill.


Charles on right at Recorder's Office

Charles married Nora Annetta Sandel of Wills Creek in 1909. 

Charles

Nora


Their descendants are:

Cecil Roy Royer  married Margaret 
Ann Lynn married Dennis - divorced
Rebecca 
William 
Stephen


Cozette Royer married William 
John married Carol - divorced
                      John adopted Katrina
James married Sharon 
            Nathan married Sherry 
             Cole
Jeffrey married Alyson
            Anthony 
            Zachary 
Melissa married Steve 
            Dominic
            Abigail 
Joseph married Georgia

Cozette

William

Bill, Cozette, Charles

Bill, Cozette, John, Jim, Joe


  

Strip Mining the Land


Since then sparse days have befallen the land.  It, at this writing, is owned by the Peabody Coal Company, a giant strip mining concern which has acquired all the coal lands in Franklin and Linton townships.  The land has been stripped by a giant shovel for a 36” vein of coal to fuel the Conesville electric generating plant of the Columbus Southern Electric Company, supplying power to the industrial city of Columbus.

Instead of the cheery “hello” of enterprising people and flourishing fields, silent spoil banks and ugly 100 foot cliffs greet the eye.  All the buildings have been demolished.   The area is retreating into a wasteland wilderness.  Restoring the land to its original, agriculturally productive state appears to be an economically impossible task.

Only the chapel remains.

Miss Cleo Royer, who was born and reared in the red brick home Adam and Susan built, before the buildings were demolished, commissioned the artist Adelaide Williams to make an oil painting of the premises.  This oil painting hangs at the residence of Opal Stockum and Cleo, and preserves for the eye the beauty of the Home Place.



Follow-Up 45 years later in 2013, by Jim Bentz


I purchased on the Internet an 1872 plat map of Franklin Township in Coshocton County; it shows the location of the Nicholas Royer farm in Section 12 near the small town of Wills Creek.   Nicholas Royer was my great-great-grandfather.  The location of Royer Chapel is shown on map by the location the Catholic Church which had burned down.  According to Uncle Cecil’s writing, Martin Royer built the Royer Chapel to commemorate the site of a church. 




The plat map below from the 1930’s/1940’shows the location of the Charles Royer farm that was passed down from Nicholas Royer in Section 12 of Franklin Township.  Charles Royer was my Grandfather.  Harvey Royer owned the land with the Royer Old Home Place.  The cemetery is the location of the Royer chapel.



 Pictures from Royer Chapel


I made trips to visit the Royer Chapel in October, 2013.  The first time I went to the Chapel in a morning, it was locked; the second time I went in an afternoon, it was unlocked; so someone must be taking care of it.   The grounds are well taken care of.   On an inside wall of the chapel, there was sign that said:  “The original chapel was destroyed by arson on December 8, 2002.  The cross behind the altar and the cross behind the memorial wall are made from burned timbers salvaged from the original chapel.”   The chapel has been rebuilt.  This picture below is the rebuilt Royer Chapel and the Memorial Wall.  People donated to the rebuilding effort and added bricks Memorial Wall to remember loved ones.  The re-built chapel looks a lot like the original chapel that I remember from the 1960’s, but it is clad in vinyl siding and asphalt shingles instead of wood and slate.

The chapel is just off State Route 83 about 15 miles south of Coshocton, halfway to New Concord, on Coshocton County Road 280.  I remember from the 1960’s that you could see the chapel from Route 83; but you could also see the spoil banks and the high-walls from the strip mining. 

The land is now part of the AEP (American Energy Partners, or previously, American Electric Power) Recreational lands.  AEP makes the land available to the public for outdoor activities, such as hunting, fishing, and horseback riding.  From looking at the today’s maps and the old township plat maps, I believe that the Old Royer Home Place lies along a horse riding trail in the Conesville AEP Fallon Park.  I hope to go back sometime and see if I can find any traces of the Royer Home Place, but I am not optimistic that I will be able to find any because the land is now overgrown.

After 45 years, the land has grown back into the forest like it was before the white man came; but, of course, the trees have not grown nearly as large as they were back then.  The scars on the land from the strip mining are still there but you cannot see them because they are obscured by the new forest; but you can still find the scars without looking too hard.  You can no longer see the chapel from Route 83 because of the trees.

The strip-mining in Franklin and Linton Townships was some of the first strip-mining done in the state of Ohio, when there were no laws requiring the strip-miners to restore the land.  Subsequently, the state of Ohio required the strip-mining companies to restore the land to its original contours after the strip-mining was done; however, unfortunately, the law has not been made retroactive to previously strip-mined land.


The pictures below are pictures I took at the new Royer Chapel.




There is painting of the Old Royer Home Place hanging in the interior of the chapel.  It looks to be  the original of an oil painting by Francis Page.



Old Royer Homeplace


“The Little White Chapel on the Hill” - Cambridge Daily Jeffersonian, Nov. 25, 2013, written by Beverly Kerr


Pleasant surprises often appear when least expected.  Such was the case with the little Royer Chapel which set back off winding Route 83, very near Wills Creek Dam in Coshocton County.  Many claim that it is the smallest chapel in Ohio.

Originally built in 1897 through the efforts of Anne Royer, the chapel served as a memorial to her husband, Martin.  Wood from an abandoned St. Nicholas Church and a stained glass wind from old St. George Church were used in the construction. 
When arriving at chapel, a cross made of burned wood stands out behind the Memorial Wall.  Later information discloses that the original church was destroyed by arson on Dec. 8, 2002, and rebuilt by men of the community a few years later.  Two crosses were made from the burned wood – one outside and another inside above the altar.  Funds for constructing the new chapel were raised in part from memorial bricks engraved with the name of loved ones or contributors.  The Memorial Wall standing out front was built with these same bricks.

Tiny Royer Chapel measures about 10 feet wide by 18 feet long, and is located near a cemetery where Martin and his daughter, Clara, were buried in 1888 and 1896.  Clara’s monument, which was imported from France, displays a statue in her actual likeness.  The chapel and the cemetery are located across the road from the old family farm to accommodate Anne’s frequent visits.

Don and Esther Royer initiated the reconstruction process to keep alive family tradition started by Don’s great-great-aunt Anne.  In 10 days, 400 friends and neighbors signed their petition for assistance, so they knew the community supported their pans to rebuild the chapel just like it used to be.  Since Don and Esther’s wedding had taken place there years before, they had pictures showing exactly what it looked like inside.  The reconstructed chapel was built on a new foundation but maintained it original size.

Inside, a peaceful chapel scene appears when you gently open the door, which is never locked.  Seven small pews seat about twenty-one people.  At the front of the chapel, a table contains a prayer box surrounded by a wreath of flowers.  The inscription on the side of the box reads: Where dreams come true.  Inside the box are numerous requests written on slips of paper available on the table.

Here’s a great place to sit down and enjoy the silence of peace while reflecting on life and its many twists and turns – rather like the road leading to the chapel.

While electricity, water, and heat do not exist at Royer Chapel, services are held there approximately once a year.  Maybe you will want to take a half hour drive northwest of Cambridge and explore a hidden treasure nearby.

This little chapel on the hill serves as a reminder to be thankful for the small things in life – a smile, a card or email, the joy of each new day.





Thursday, September 19, 2013

Country Sayings told to me by my Parents and others


My Mother, Cozette Bentz, was born in Coshocton County, Ohio in 1913.  She grew up on a farm off Route 83 south of the city of Coshocton.  Her father, Charles Royer, was a farmer, school teacher, and County Recorder. She was proud of the fact she was educated in the one-room Wills Creek school house through 8th grade; she graduated as valedictorian of her class at Coshocton High School.  She went to Business School; and then she worked as the chief clerk at the USDA North Appalachian Hydrology Research Station near Coshocton, and later as purchasing agent at Universal Cyclops Specialty Steel manufacturing near Coshocton.

My Dad, Bill Bentz, was born in 1913 in Norwood, Ohio near Cincinnati, and grew up in the small town of Racine in Meigs County, Ohio along the Ohio River.  His Dad, John Bentz, was a carpenter and his Mother, Bertha, was school teacher at one time.  After graduating from Racine High School, he worked at a CCC camp in Southern Ohio during the Depression.  He then worked at the USDA Research Station in Coshocton.  During World War II, he rose to the rank of Technical Sergeant in the US Army Air Force where he specialized in repairing Bomb Sites for the planes bombing Germany.  At the time, this was a very high-tech job.  He was stationed at an airbase in Northampton, England.  After the war, he returned to work at the USDA Research Station and married my Mother.  He used the technical skills he learned in the Army to become a Hydrology Technician where he built instruments to measure the underground flow of water.

When I was growing up in the 1950’s, my parents, especially my Mother, had pithy country sayings they said often, and the sayings still come back to me now in the appropriate situations.  I decided to write down them when they came back to me.  I attribute many of the sayings as being first told to me by my parents although I am sure I learned many of them from other sources.  The following is the list so far.  Please comment if you think of any others so I can add them to the list.

Pithy Sayings  

You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.
Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
A penny saved is a penny earned.
Don’t cry over spilt milk.
Cream rises to the top.
A stitch in time saves nine.
You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
If you don’t have something good to say, don’t say anything at all.
Spare the rod and spoil the child.
Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.
Success is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration.
Action speaks louder than words; and its corollary, talk is cheap.
Idle hands make the devil’s mischief.
Early to bed and early to rise make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
The closer the bone, the sweeter the flesh
You reap what you sow.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.
All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.
Don’t be the little boy who cries wolf.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Easy come, easy go.
Buy low, sell high.
Better safe than sorry.
He who hesitates is lost.
One hand washes another.
Don’t kill the goose that laid the golden egg.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth
Turn the other cheek.
Let justice roll down like waters. (Amos)
Two “wrongs” don’t make a “right”.
A fool and his money soon part.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Don’t wish your life away.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
The proof is in the pudding.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away.
An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
Don’t put the cart before the horse.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
Don’t swap horses in the middle of the stream.
The grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
Better to be big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big pond.
To err is human, to forgive divine.
You can’t teach and old dog new tricks.
If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.
Look before you leap.
A rolling stone gathers no moss.
Sleep tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite.
Chickens come home to roost.
Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.
You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.
A friend in need is a friend indeed.
Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.  – Jesus
Truth is stranger than fiction.
The early bird catches the worm.
He who laughs last, laughs hardest.
He has carried his eggs to a fine market.

Quaint Metaphors

It’s like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
It’s like making a mountain out of a mole hill.
It’s water over the dam, or water under the bridge.
There are too many Chiefs and not enough Indians.
He’s no spring chicken. (older)
It’s old as the hills. (oldest)
It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. (easy)
It’s more fun than a barrel on monkeys.
Darkness (or fog) so thick you could cut it with a knife.
It’s raining cats and dogs.
He’s stubborn as a mule.
He’s sly as a fox.
It’s as American as apple pie.
He’s crazy as a loon.
It’s a tough nut to crack.
He’s wise as an owl
He’s crying crocodile tears
He’s a snake in the grass
It’s like opening a can of worms.
It’s like opening Pandora’s Box.
It’s like putting a square peg in a round hole
He got the golden handshake.
I’ll play it by ear.
It came out of the blue.
He hit below the belt.
It (the thought) came to me off the top of my head.
Dyed in the wool.
A fly in the ointment.
You give a inch, but he takes a mile.
Putting in your two cents
Beating around the bush
The tail’s wagging the dog
Dog and pony show
When push comes to shove
The whole nine yards
Killing two birds with one stone
That’s the pot calling the kettle black.
Sight for sore eyes
Throwing out the baby with the bath water
Clean as a whistle
Beating a dead horse
Penny-wise and pound-foolish
Feather in his cap
Getting on your high horse
Going on a wild goose chase
Pig in a poke
Where the rubber meets the road
Already baked in the cake
Home cooking








Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Coon Hunting

The only times I remember my Dad carrying the .22 caliber rifle were a couple times that he took me coon hunting; he used it for shooting the raccoon out of the tree after the dogs had treed the coon.  I think I remember him shooting at a coon one time I was with him, but I don’t think he got it.  I was much older and off to college when he got Franklin, a coon hound, so I never got to do much coon hunting with him.  My Dad used to hunt coons with his friend Bill Edwards.  When coon hunting, you should have a coon hound; and you walk around the woods at night until the coon hounds get the sniff of a coon. Then, the coon hounds trail the coon with their noses until the coon runs up a tree to get away from the dogs.  Here again, it is a pleasant time standing in the woods at night listening to the dogs bark while they are trailing the coon and when they have it treed.  The dogs have a different bark or howl for each of these two phases of the pursuit.  Once the dogs have the coon treed, you follow sound of the dogs barking through the darkness of the woods at night until you get to the tree.  Then, you use a spotlight to try to find the coon in the tree, and shoot it.  It is sometimes not easy to see the coon in the tree.

Years later, in our five acre country lot, we put out a bird feeder in the Crab Apple tree behind the deck on the back of the house; we could watch birds from either the kitchen window or while sitting on the deck.  This bird feeder attracted a lot of raccoon as well as the birds.  Our Chow dog Leo, who for a while we kept on a long chain outside the garage attached to our house, once treed two young coons in the Honey Locust tree near the garage.  I guess the coons by chance came too close to Leo, and he chased them up the tree.  They sat up in the tree for about three days with Leo sitting at the base of the tree.  Leo must have fallen asleep one time because one day the coons disappeared – maybe they left out of desperation.

I suspended the bird feeder on a three foot long, thin nylon rope from a tree limb to keep out the raccoon; the bird feeder was about five feet above the ground.  My idea was that the coons would not be able to reach the bird feeder from the limb along this long, thin rope.  One night, I heard a large racket outside.  I got up from bed and turned on the light over the deck, and saw a very large raccoon eating from the bird feeder.  This large coon was holding onto the limb with his back paws; its body and front and back legs were fully stretched downward; and it was eating from the bird feeder using its front paws.  When I turned on the light, the coon very deliberately began to pull himself back up onto the limb.  He moved as if he was not really concerned about me, but I think he may have been moving as fast as he could from his stretched out position.  If I had a gun and the inclination, I could have shot at him five times while he was thus retreating.

Another time on the summer night, we had a banana sitting on the counter in the kitchen with the kitchen window open.  There was a screen on the window, but the screen was not fastened tightly against the window frame.  The next morning the banana was gone.  Apparently, a coon had squeezed in between the screen and the window frame and taken the banana.  We knew that the coon had been there because there were short black hairs on the counter.


So, I decided to try my hand at trapping coons.  I bought a medium-sized varmint cage trap at the local Farm & Fleet store.  The trap is a steel-wire cage with a loaded door so that when the varmint steps on the trigger plate on the floor of the cage the door drops shut trapping the varmint inside.  I bated the cage with an apple and set it out in the yard between the garage and the crab apple tree.   On five consecutive nights, I caught a raccoon.  When it is trapped in the cage, the coon uses its paws to make a soft bed for itself dragging in the nearby grass from around into the cage.  Each morning, I took the captured coon out to the other side of Salt Fork Lake and released it near the primitive camping grounds.  The coon was bewildered when I first released it, but it soon recovered its senses and hustled off into the nearby brush.  I took it to the other side of the lake so hopefully it would not find its way back home.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Hunting Rabbits

Although my Dad used to hunt with the musket as a kid, he used more modern guns later on.  When I was growing up, he had a .22 caliber rifle and 12-gauge double-barreled shotgun that he used when he took us hunting; mostly, he used the double-barreled shotgun to hunt rabbits and squirrels. 

We had a beagle rabbit hound named Caesar that we took rabbit hunting with us, but he wasn't ever fully trained, so he wasn't a very good rabbit dog.  Sometimes, my Dad would borrow a “real” rabbit dog from his friend Merritt Young to take with us hunting to try to train Caesar.  At home, Caesar was always trying to dig his way out of his pen in our backyard so my Dad put a couple rows of bricks under the fence to keep him from digging out.  Eventually, however, Caesar did get out of his pen and immediately got hit by a car and killed in front of our house on our busy street, Chestnut Street in Coshocton, Ohio.

We went hunting many times and my Dad usually got one or two rabbits, but mainly by “jumping” the rabbits; that is, by walking until around the country-side looking for likely locations for “sitting” rabbits, surprising them into running away, and then shooting them.  They sit under little clumps of grass or bushes or brush piles where they have a little protection from the elements and from predators.  If you can’t shoot the rabbit or you miss it after jumping it, the theory is that your rabbit dog will follow its scent by its nose, and the rabbit will eventually circle back around to his home territory and you have a second chance to shoot him.  Each dog gives a special recognizable bark or howl when it is running the rabbit; and it is pleasing experiences to just stand in the woods and to listen to the dogs run the rabbit.  I remember one time this strategy actually worked for us.  I was standing perfectly still in the woods several yards behind my Dad and listening to the dogs that were still very far away, and the rabbit silently and almost leisurely ran right by me within a few feet of me; it was completely unaware of me.  I didn't have a gun so I couldn't shoot it; and I didn't want to yell to my Dad because it would scare the rabbit away, and he wasn't in a position to shoot it anyway.  (I have always been able to quickly think of and evaluate the possible options quickly in such quick-reaction-needed situations.)

We had a family tradition of going hunting on Thanksgiving morning while my Mother was cooking Thanksgiving dinner.  I remember I was freezing cold oftentimes when we went hunting.  Sometimes, there was snow on the ground.

We hunted on the grounds of the North Appalachian Watershed District Research Station where my Dad worked.  The U.S. Department of Agriculture uses the “station” to research the underground movement of water in North Appalachia, and my Dad was an Engineering Technician who designed and built some of the measuring equipment.  The station had about 1000 acres of meadows and woods.  It is about 10 miles northeast of Coshocton, and is still there today.

My Dad would field-clean the rabbits, and then would freeze the rabbits in the freezer when we got home.  My Mother would make rabbit stew or fried rabbit for dinner sometime later.  When eating it, you would have to spit out the lead-shot from the shotgun.  One rabbit split among five people was not very much for each person, and with two hungry brothers, you had to eat fast to make sure you got your share.  One time, I made a rabbit stew using red wine gravy with a recipe that I found in one of my Mother’s recipe books.  The only other time I saw rabbit stew on the menu was in restaurants in Europe in Utrecht Netherlands and in Greifensee Switzerland where it was called hasenpfeffer; but I never ordered it; I should have.


When I was a little older, I got my own 20 gauge shotgun and a hunting coat one Christmas.  I actually got one rabbit and one squirrel with that shotgun while I was still a kid; that was all I ever got while hunting with my Dad.  Much later, when I was grown and married, we owned a five acre lot in the country just outside of Cambridge, Ohio; and we had an excess population of rabbits for few years until the coyote and fox population also caught up and cleared out the rabbits.  On one occasion, after I came home and saw a bunch of rabbits eating in my garden, I immediately got my shotgun and shot five of them, but a couple rabbits got away.  I buried the rabbits in a shallow hole in my garden because I didn't want to learn on-the-fly how to clean them and to deal with mess.  Some wild animal came later and dug them up and took the dead rabbits away.  There was no trace of them anywhere. I also used the shotgun to shoot at crows that were ravaging my garden and apple trees; but I was never able to get close enough to actually hit one because they were too clever and wary.  Later, my wife Sharon got rid of the shotgun unbeknownst to me when she was cleaning out a closet; she doesn't like guns.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Uncle Dane's House

In the 1950’s, when we went to visit my Grandma and Granddad Bentz in Racine, Ohio, along the Ohio River, my Dad took us to visit Uncle Dane out in the "back-country". Uncle Dane’s place was a memorable place to visit as a kid, maybe because we never went to or saw another place like it.  It seemed like it was way out in the country; but it only took maybe a half-hour’s car ride to get there from Granddad’s place in Racine; and I don’t have the faintest memory of how to get there, except you turn left out of my Granddad’s driveway to start, go one-half mile to where the road dead-ends, turn left again, and then keep going.  Uncle Dane’s house and the barn were in a grassy clearing surrounded by woods; the clearing was maybe two acres.  The house was in the style of an old single-story log cabin, but I think the siding of the house was unpainted clapboard siding, not logs.  There was a big porch on the front side of the house, but the front side of the house didn’t face the road; it was at a 90 degree angle from the road and faced the gravel driveway where you drove up from the road.  The house looked old and weathered from the outside; but the house and the surrounding clearing were tidy; there was no trash lying around and the grass was always looked cut.  There was a long-handled, manual water-pump sitting in the front of the porch.  There were a couple large trees along the driveway.  I don’t remember a garden, but I think he must have had one because almost everyone living in the country did then.

I found one online reference to Dane Wickline.  On March 3, 1915, the Athens Messenger said Dane Wickline got a burning permit in Sutton Township.

We always visited in the summer, and Uncle Dane was always sitting outside in a rocking chair, but the rocking chair was not on the porch, but was sitting in front of the porch in the grass.  Uncle Dane always had on loose bib-overalls, a white T-shirt, work boots, and a straw hat.  I don’t believe that Uncle Dane had a phone, so we always were visiting unannounced; so I think this must have been his normal routine during the summer afternoons.  I think he must have been in his 60’s when we visited because he was my Grandma’s brother; and as a young kid, Uncle Dane seemed old, even in comparison to my Grandparents.  There were two or three hunting dogs lying around, maybe coon hounds since he liked to hunt; but they were always very gentle and were never threatening. 

The house seemed dilapidated from the outside, but when we went inside, it was very clean and inviting and cozy and neat as a pin.  When you went into the house from the front porch, you entered directly into the kitchen.  This is the only room that I remember.  There was a large old wooden kitchen table with chairs; cheery white-with-red-trim curtains on the windows; and large sink with a hand water pump.  Uncle Dane’s wife sometimes gave us milk and cookies.

My Dad would sit outside and talk to Uncle Dane.  My brothers and I had to sit there too and listen to the grown-ups talk; it must have been pretty boring to us because I don’t remember anything they were talking about.  We were not allowed to run around.  There were a lot of interesting-looking places to investigate so I am sure we would have if we had a chance.

I remember my Mother and Dad later talking about Uncle Dane’s wives.  His first wife was sent to the Mental Hospital in Athens.  They said she was always picking “nits” off her clothing, like she thought there was something always on her clothes.  I think Uncle Dane was married to his second wife when we visited, but I don’t remember much about her, even her name.  I don’t think Uncle Dane had any children.

Uncle Dane not at house in country