Boys' State

Article from The Raymond News, July 16, 1964

Friendly Faces

Following are some of the photos in the memorial section of Raymond's 125 Years of Memories book:

Al & Lucille Rossi

Beckham & Angie Lynch

Bert & Mary Martin

Bessie Krager

Betty Poggenpohl

Cecil "Cec" Pitchford

Darlene Pitchford

Elnora Bryant

Jude Bryant

Ernest & Letha Martin

Ethel & Roman Herman

Earl & Evah Boehler

Harold John & Verna Cecilia Weitekamp

Helen Bergman

Jess and Francelia Broaddus

John and Dorothy Hough 

Leo & Anna Meisner

Leonard & Hazel Beiermann

Minnie Lange

Ray & Vera Trinkle

Roscoe & Clara Hough

Glen "Buck" Pinkston

Verne Pinkston

Veryl Chausse

W.H. "Tick" House

William Irl Whalen

William Keiser Zimmerman

The Name Game

My Dad and Peger, "The Flyer" (photo by Jennifer Henderson)

My dad always called people by their nicknames. In fact, he liked using nicknames so much that he made sure his own children had them starting on the day we were born. He made an agreement with mom that she could choose any names she wanted and he would go along with them, with the stipulation that the names could all be shortened to three letters. That’s how we ended up with Joseph (Joe), Robert (Bob), Nancy (Nan), Susan (Sue), and Janelle (Jan).

One of dad’s best friends, Carl Peger, whom Dad called The Flyer, was also known around town as simply Peger. Even his wife, Phyllis, called him Peger, and since her last name was Peger, it seemed logical to my six-year-old self that his name must be Peger Peger. I still remember that hot Sunday afternoon in July of 1970 when Peger Peger came over to help dad install a large AC unit in our dining room wall. Once it was up and running and the house started cooling down, mom baked a Texas Cake. This was a quite a treat, as she normally would have never baked on a hot day like that. After the guys finished up, mom invited Phyllis to come over and there we all were, sitting at the dining room table with the AC humming away, enjoying freshly baked Texas cake in July. The stifling heat and humidity had disappeared, the house was nice and cool, and I was living my best life while the adults chatted away. I’m not even sure how it came up in the conversation, but someone mentioned the name Carl and I remember asking who Carl was. The next thing I knew, everyone was laughing hysterically. That’s how it was revealed to me that Peger's name was actually Carl. I was shocked and I could hardly believe it. He didn’t even look like a Carl to me. I never learned the story of why Peger was known as The Flyer, although it was possibly related to him riding a motorcycle.

Dad and Coldtrail

And then there’s “Coldtrail.” No one seems to know the true story about how Darrell Pitchford earned that nickname. Whatever it was, it really stuck because not once in my life did I hear my dad or hardly anyone else call him Darrell -- it was always Coldtrail. I recently asked the three Pitchford girls about this and even they were unable to provide solid answers. Although Dena suggested, “why don’t you ask him LOL,” I don’t think I will pursue this and it will likely forever remain a mystery.

I can think of many men in Raymond who were known by nicknames when I was growing up, and it occurs to me that in some cases, I still don’t even know what their real names were. The three Hough brothers, Robert, Raymond, and John were known as Robert A., Jiggs, and Hough the Plumber. Then there was Raymond Daisy Held, and Skeeter and Tuffy held. Bob Poggenpohl was Poggy. Verne Pinkston was known as Nip and his brother, Glen, was known as Buck. There was Slats Eickhoff, Sonny Goby, Coxsey Poggenpohl, Harold Fat Wagahoff, Sheek Rhine, Leon Stub Martin, Pidge Etter, Cecil Cec Pitchford, and Tic House.

And today, there’s the ones who are still around town like Wayne Angle who has always been Dingle. There’s Terry the Barber and Chip House. The Mayor, Denny Held, has always been Pup. And there’s Mike Stumpy Masten, Danny Bob Dozer Hough, Allen Big Al Poggenpohl, Bob Wags Wagahoff, Adrien Bubba Pennock, and probably many more that I can’t recall at this particular moment. It would be fun to be reminded about more and learn about the stories of how everyone’s nicknames originated.    

Why was Glenn Ray in the hallway?

The following article about members of Triple Star Post 299 attending the American Legion Convention in Chicago appeared in The Raymond News on August 6, 1964: 

Remember and Honor

From the Raymond Centennial Book, published in 1971:

Military Funeral Procession for a World War I Soldier

In the year 1918, when World War I was declared, ten young men from our Raymond area volunteered. In all, more than 100 men from this area served their country. The supreme sacrifice was made by Frank Beiermann, Otto Egelhoff, Earl Miller, Henry Sutter, William VanSandt, and Willis Redmann. 


Cecil J. Crabtree, at the age of 18, a Regimental Sergeant Major in World War I, was the youngest man to hold that rank. 

In 1941, when our nation became involved in World War II, a large number of our boys were called to all branches of the service. 

Those who gave their lives were Marvin Brown, Murray Bost, Russell Mitts, Edward Martin, Billy VanZant, Calvin Gilbert, Joe Redman, Robert Mayfield, and Leslie Tucker. 

Many of our young men were called to serve their country during the Korean War in 1950. Charles Weitekamp gave his life for this cause. 

As of today, numerous men have served in the Vietnam conflict, but we are fortunate to have no fatalities. 

Reminiscing

Here is a story from back in the day that has ties to “Pinhook,” and also to a shooting uptown at the train depot. It contains memories about George Stogsdill’s life that were told to his granddaughter, Mary Lou (Stogsdill) Bergman, by her father, Virgil. The story appears in the Raymond - 125 Years of Memories book that was published in 1996.

   

George and Fanny Stogsdill moved to Raymond from Missouri in 1915. They were the parents of Virgil Stogsdill. George worked for the Tom Doyle farm and baled hay for farmers with his Hay Press. They lived on the corner in “Pinhook” across from Wayne Angle’s welding shop in an old house they purchased.

I can remember he raised pigs where Wayne’s welding shop is today. In the 1920’s during prohibition, he was employed as the night cop in Raymond. There were a lot of bootleggers in the area at that time. He did not bother them, as they were the only ones able to get beer and liquor in the area. However, he received orders from Hillsboro to arrest one of the bootleggers from Atwater when he came to town. So he did, and the bootlegger told him someone would get him back for arresting him. About six weeks later, George was at the depot which was the only the place for the cop to rest at that time. A man came in and ordered him to stop the train. George said, “I cannot do that - it’s a through train and it won’t stop.” The man pulled out a gun and shot him, saying it was for the bootlegger he had arrested. However, the bullet only hit him in the arm and he recovered after several weeks in the hospital. No one remembers what happened to the man who shot him - he must have gotten away.

George then built an icehouse on the Pinhook corner and delivered ice to people in town and in the country. There were only about two electric refrigerators in Raymond at that time. Most people did not have electricity. They used kerosene lamps and there were gas lights on Main Street. He would buy the ice at Hillsboro Icehouse in 200 lb. blocks and store it in his icehouse. Most of the old iceboxes held 25-50 lbs. of ice, which he would chip off and deliver or you could pick up yourself. 

George’s granddaughter, Mary Lou Bergman, said that when she married Joe in 1949, George delivered ice to them until they bought a new Frigidaire refrigerator in 1950. George also hauled coal in the winter and was the janitor for the Raymond Baptist Church. Mary Lou said she remembered her grandma and grandpa having preachers over for dinner every Sunday.

By the way, in 1996 when this story was published, Mary Lou’s 1950 Frigidaire was still running. 

A Horseless Carriage Comes to Town

The following story, which occurred in 1897, appears in a self-published book by former Raymond resident, David A. Sorrell, called “As I Remember.” The book features Mr. Sorrell’s recollections about the early days of Raymond. The stories appeared in a weekly column in The Raymond News from 1963-1972. 

I wanted to include a photo with this story and I found the one below in Raymond’s Centennial Book published in 1971, that was simply captioned “Early Demonstration Ride.” While it seemed logical that the photo was taken in Raymond, I learned it was actually taken on Main Street in Harvel several years after the "horseless carriage" exhibition in Raymond. It features a 1909 Model Ford purchased by William Hitchings of near Harvel, who paid C.M. Forrester $871.50 for the auto. Mr. Hitchings is seated in the vehicle. Also pictured are John Heien of Morrisonville, in front; Otto Lebeck behind him, and Ben Singer. Alec Matli is standing beside the car.   

The following was written by David A. Sorrell: Raymond’s first automobile was not driven into Raymond under its own power. It came in a baggage car on the Wabash railroad and this car was “set out” to use a railroad expression, there on the siding, right in front of our little depot. 

Evidently the car had been bought or leased from the railroad by the great mail order firm of Montgomery Ward & Co. for I think now that it was painted red and in huge gold lettering on each side of the baggage car were the words “Montgomery Ward & Co.” This name needed no explanation in our town for I think now that along with the family Bible there could be found in most Raymond homes one of the mail order catalogs of this company.

Now let’s see what was happening in our town due to the impact of the arrival of this wonderful car from our favorite mail order company. Handbills of announcement had been spread over the town so everybody knew that at 3:00 p.m. on that day that there would be an exhibition of a “horseless carriage” and that it would be driven up the driveway and down of Charley Houck’s elevator and would carry four passengers during this exhibition.

To say that all this created much interest in our town is putting it mildly. In my own home I begged Mother to let me go. Every day I went “uptown” as we term it on needed errands. Even as a six year old boy I did this and if this first car coming to Raymond was in 1897, my age would have been seven years old. To Mother, this extraordinary happening was outside the sphere of “needed errands” and was something to be considered before I could be given permission. Finally the permission was given and it came about in this way. I had a little playmate across the street with whom I played either at her house or mine most of every day. Her name was Olivia Welge and her Mother was Mrs. Nellie Welge. She was the wife of Lou Welge and also the daughter of Joe Lessman, Sr. Now, Olivia and I had talked about how much we would like to see this horseless carriage thing and I suspect that she said as much to her mamma, for her Mother came over and wanted to know of my Mother, if I could go with her and Olivia to see the “horseless carriage.” This solved my problem for Mother consented at once to my going.

When we arrived at the red and gold baggage car there on the siding in front of the Wabash depot there was quite a crowd in waiting to see the “horseless carriage.” After a bit of waiting, the door of the baggage car was slid back and young man stood in the door and made a little speech. He told us first about the horseless carriage and it seems not that he said it was made by a man in Peoria by the name of Duryea. He also said that three of Raymond’s distinguished citizens had been asked to take part and ride in the wonderful horseless carriage on its exhibition drive that would be up the driveway, through the elevator building itself and down the driveway going out of the elevator. Going up this steep elevator drive was proof that the horseless carriage would go up a hill and of course no one doubted its ability to roll down the driveway on the far side. The last part of his speech was given over to extolling the merits of the great Montgomery Ward mail order house and if the audience would kindly climb the steps that had been provided there at the end of the car and file through we would each be given one of the these latest mail order catalogs which was indeed full of wonderful bargains at all times.  

Immediately after the catalogs had been given out the exhibition would take place. Memory does not reveal just what the inside of the car looked like except that one of the big catalogs was handed to me by a young man as we went through the car. Again back on the ground outside the car we waited with our catalogs clasped in our arms for the real thing we had all come to see. Now, a long ramp was laid down from the wide baggage car door and out of the door and slowly down the ramp rolled the first car that ever came to our town. Once on the ground everyone crowded around to look at it. We could see that it would seat four people. One way to describe it would be to say that it looked like an overgrown “surrey” without a top. I realize that to the present young generation, the word “surrey” would not mean a thing. Here are two ways to find out - ask and old timer in Raymond or look in the dictionary.

The horseless carriage was on the ground now and stood gently put-putting awaiting for its passengers. Again, memory does not reveal just who these passengers were but I like to think that it was Charley and Mrs. Scherer and perhaps Will Seymour. All three of these good people were great friends of this little boy Davy who stood watching them as they proudly climbed into the little horseless carriage. Now, I think this must have been too early for chauffeurs to have uniforms as yet. There is no memory here of a cap turned backwards - the gauntlet gloves - the goggles, and the long linen duster coat without which no chauffeur or driver of one of the early cars would care to be seen. All this fashion came a few years later.

There was no need for the exhibitor to tell the folks to stand back. When the young man driving the horseless carriage began feeding the gas to his one lunged engine, the thing awoke with a mighty roar and blue smoke pouring from the back, the crowd backed up a bit. Straight up the steep elevator drive the thing went and down the other side and in a few minutes the whole exhibition was over. I don’t remember that any more trips of any kind were made. Perhaps the exhibition handlers realized just what a frail thing they had to show and breathed a sigh of relief every time one of their exhibitions was over.

The reactions to this event were plentiful. George Woods, one of our well-to-do farmers said, “I’m sure gonna have me one of them dern things.” Not all the reactions were favorable. The Raymond harness makers and blacksmiths and wagon makers had a premonition of just what these horseless carriages would and did do to business in the years to come. Other comments were like this, “bet that thing would skeer the livin’ daylights out of a horse if you met one on the road. It would be wrs’n meeting a thrashing engine.”

Who would have been able to predict or even believe that in sixty-five years, Raymond would be so crowded with cars at times that it would be hard to find a parking space?