A Walk Down Memory Lane-I Visit My Old Hometown

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I recently visited my Sister, Marlene, for a few days in Washington, KS. I was born in Marysville, about 20 miles east of Washington. I left Marysville in 1957, and Marshall County, of which Marysville is the county seat, in 1962. I've visited or driven through it many times since, but I'd not had the time to walk around.

Sis had a doctor's appointment in Marysville whilst I was there, so I took the opportunity to actually walk round the site of many memories for the first time in decades, and to meet a 'Facebook friend' whom I'd come to know through a Marshall County Facebook group.

We got to Marysville about 10.00 and had coffee with Marlene's sister-in-law and her husband. I then walked around my old neighbourhood, which was bittersweet. The house I remember is long gone. There is a house trailer on the lot. With one exception, every house, on both sides of the street in our block is gone, and that one exception looks unoccupied and decrepit.

I walked down the next block, where several of my friends lived 65 years ago. A few houses remain. Terry Kloppenberg's house is still there, where I was bitten by a dog. Not in anger, but in fun. I was rough housing with him a bit too enthusiastically.

At the end of the block was the house in which my 'brother from another mother', Dwight Valentine lived. Dwight has been dead for over 50 years, killed in an auto accident. His Mother, Grace, outlived him by 50 years, dying recently at the age of 104. I spent almost as much time at Dwight's house as I did at my own, and Grace was definitely a 'second mother' to me.

My memories of Dwight merit their own post, but they were revived just a few years before Grace's death. I had assumed she was long dead (she was probably ten years older than my mother, who died in 2001), but Sis was working as an aide to homebound people and, one day, she asked me if I remembered Grace? I said, of course I did, and she informed me that Grace was still alive and was one of the people for whom she did shopping and other errands. I got into contact with Grace, sending her cards and emails.

I could not bring myself to phone her. I'm sorry now, but I realised that my memories of Dwight would cause me to break down in tears if I were to actually talk to her about them.

At any rate, the house was still there, and in front of it was a sign bearing the name 'Brungardt' which happens to be the surname of the 'Facebook friend' I was planning on meeting. I wondered if it was her house, but I decided against knocking. I figured that in a town full of German names, there was probably more than one Brungardt and I had no desire to look a fool, knocking on a stranger's door.

I went by my old elementary school, called Lincoln School in my day, but now the Lincoln Centre. It houses several social service agencies, Head Start, an adult GED program, etc. I talked to a younger fellow there for awhile, about growing up in Marysville in the '50s. I told him that when I was a student at Lincoln, there were two grocery stores across the street. One is now the Community Food Bank and the other seems to have been converted to a storage building or a garage.

After leaving the old school, I walked up around the old Union Pacific Railroad Depot that's in the process of being restored. It is a community project and a 501(c)(3) charity which is a listed charity on Amazon Smile. For the last several years I have been participating in the Amazon program, thereby donating a few cents from each of my purchases to the restoration.

Family lore has it that my Dad almost wore out the platform, pacing back and forth, as he waited for his new bride. He and Mum had been married in England, soon after the War ended, and he hadn't seen her in months.

The 'track side' of the Depot, in its glory days,
showing the platform

I then walked downtown to the Wagon Wheel Cafe, where my mother met my stepfather after she was widowed. She was a waitress there and he started stopping in frequently to eat after he met her! It was there I was meeting my friend Janette Brungardt for coffee.

We had a pleasant hour or so over our coffee and her lunch. I discovered that she did, indeed, live in Dwight's old house. She had seen me walking by the house earlier, but she said she was glad I hadn't stopped because she was busy. And it turned out that, despite all the Schwartzes, Schmidts, and Wassenbergs in town, she is the only Brungardt!

Despite the fact that we had never met in real life, we discovered that we have quite a bit in common. Both born in Marysville, she in 1945 and I in 1947, we also both lived in Council Bluffs, Iowa, tho' years apart. Janette went to high school in CB and I was in my 60s when I ended up there, but despite the difference of when we lived there we found that we had several friends in common.

Janette then gave me a ride to the new, 'new' St Gregory the Great Church. The old, 'old' St Gregory's was where I first heard Holy Mass, almost 20 years before I entered the Church. The old 'old' St Gregory's was built on the top of one of the highest hills on the bluffs above the Big Blue River. It was built, I would estimate, in the 1890s, but possibly even earlier. It was in need of major repairs, and as the parishioners aged, it was becoming more and more difficult for the older men to carry a coffin up the flight of stairs leading to the Church. Here is a picture of the old Church.

As a result, it was demolished and a new Church (the old 'new' or new 'old', you decide!) was built on the level across the street. It was the typical post-Conciliar barn, bereft of ornamentation. It was not popular with the parishioners or, for that matter, the non-Catholic townsfolk who had admired the old Church.

A few years ago, with a new Archbishop and a new Pastor, it was decided to replace it with a Church instead of a barn, and boy, did they!

Here are some pictures of the gorgeous new Church.

The Interior

The Altar and Reredos

The New Church

The Church was preparing for their 'garage sale', part of a cross-state combination, with individuals, churches, and charitable groups holding sales in every town along the 400 mile stretch of US Highway 36 in Kansas. I found a roll topped desk I loved, but I had no way of transporting it back to Wilber! I did, however, have a nice chat with the ladies getting ready for the sale.

I then walked a couple of blocks to the old County Courthouse, which has been converted into a museum of Marshall County. I viewed all the exhibits, tho' I'd like to return soon for a more extended visit. Also, I think the Shorter and Cuter Half would enjoy the 'quilt room', which is actually the old walkin safe of the County Treasurer's Office.

I had a long talk with the ladies there about the history of Marysville. They pulled up a newspaper article from 1946 about my Mum being the first warbride in town and printed it off for me.

We also chatted about a murder case from the 1890s. Why? Well, my Grandfather had been paying his 'business tax' for breaking the prohibition laws. He was a saloon keeper, one of several on the main street of town. Every month he paid a 'fine' and once a year, went to jail for three days. He was also a respected businessman, with a half page advert in the city directory that read, 'Max. Weismiller, Dealer in Fine Wines, Spirits, and Cigars'.

Whilst he was in jail, a man who had shot a fellow in the back in front of multiple witnesses was put into his cell. When the lynch mob came for him, he hid under the bunk and said, 'Max, I think they're after me'. The sheriff held off the mob, and he went to trial.

The family tale I heard was that he had given my Grandfather one of the shotgun shells he had used in the killing. I had assumed that it was just a family legend. However, years later, the local historian, Oretha Ruetti (R+I+P), who penned a weekly history column for the Marysville Advocate, wrote about the trial, and related that Granddad had been called as a witness and the shell had been introduced as evidence!

I probably kept the good ladies from any real work for an hour or more, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. History is one of my passions, and I especially liked learning more about my hometown.

I then walked to the Dollar General store, bought a couple of items, and waited for Sis and her daughter Holly to pick me up. Home at about 17.00.

It was a very full and enjoyable day, but by the end of it I was beginning to have difficulty walking. My old friend, 'Arthur Itis' was acting up in my hip, despite the fact that I was using the walking staff you can see in my profile picture.