Raymond's Independence Day Celebration

Boy Scouts marching in the parade in the late 1950's. (Scroll down for more photos)

(The following information was taken from Raymond's 125th Anniversary Book that was published in 1996.)

The annual Independence Celebration is a tradition in Raymond. It is held on Broad Street for three days, usually on or near July 4th. The event is planned and organized by members of the Raymond Fourth of July Association which consists of representatives from American Legion Post #299, the Raymond-Harvel Fire Department, and-Raymond Knights of Columbus Council #4696, along with other volunteers. Other community organizations and individuals also help fund the celebration and make the annual event a success. According to the July 10, 1958 issue of The Raymond News, 1958 marked the first year of the Raymond Independence Celebration as we know it today. According to the report, the American Legion sponsored a parade, fish fry and dance. The parade covered fourteen blocks, and featured the American Legion Color Guard and Rifle Squad consisting of World War II and Korean Veterans, and the Raymond High School band, under the direction of R.C. Jones. It is estimated that 500 people were served at the fish fry.

Prior to the days of the celebration on Broad Street, there are other reports of Independence festivities taking place in and near Raymond. Many people recall one 4th of July celebration that definitely went out with a "bang" at the Everett "Sonny" Glover family farm east of Raymond. On July 4, 1951 the Glover's 1949 Ford Station Wagon was completely destroyed when apparently, a box of aerial bombs on the tail gate of the wagon became ignited and blew up, completely wrecking the car and throwing glass from the windows about 200 feet. No one was seriously injured in the mishap, although one person received a cut lip from the flying glass. A nearby wheat field also caught fire, but was extinguished before much damage was done.

Other references to early Raymond Independence Day Celebrations indicate the city cannon was shot off from under the cottonwood tree.

Today, the Independence Celebration is held on Broad Street and highlighted by the "big" parade, the coronation of Miss Independence and the Little Miss and Mr. Muscle, entertainment, carnival rides, concessions, and the fireworks display. It draws large crowds from Raymond and the surrounding communities.

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I decided to feature Raymond's Independence Day Celebration in this week's blog to coincide with the event that kicked off tonight and goes through Saturday night. This annual event was one of the highlights of the summer when I was growing up, and I have so many great memories of the sights, sounds, and smells from those days.

One thing that sticks out in my memory is the number of people who came to town for the celebration. The parking spaces on the northwest side of Main Street were always full, and it was difficult to find parking on any of the side streets for several blocks. Back then, it was two fun-filled days of eating junk food, riding cheap carnival rides, playing games, running around uptown unsupervised, and watching the Lester Family on the stage. The Kiddie Parade was big, and the big Parade was really big. In addition to the Lincolnwood Band, three or four other marching bands from neighboring towns participated (this was back when each high school marching band had about seventy kids in it). There were also dozens of floats from local businesses and organizations in Raymond and from nearby communities (who can forget the Witt Lions Club float!). Of course there were also tractors and horses, and plenty of politicians. Hundreds of people lined the streets of Raymond for the parade. We always sat in Margie and Louie Krause's yard, and it's nice to know that several of my siblings and some of their kids will be back in the neighborhood at that spot for the parade this Saturday. 

I remember walking up Main Street and hearing songs like "Black Betty" by Ram Jam and "Mississippi Queen" by Mountain blasting over and over from the Tilt-A-Whirl. Mom always started in with her warnings about the "carnies" each year in mid-June, and I was forbidden to walk uptown or back home alone when the carnival was in town. This meant I would be forced to carry around the goldfish I won in a small baggie, trying to find one of my sisters to walk me home before the fish died. As you continued up Main Street out of earshot of the carnival, you would hear the familiar voices of the volunteer fireman ("B 12. BEEEE 12. Under the G, 42, GEEEE 42. Hold your card, folks, we have a Bingo!"), and the lucky winner might have gotten 50 cents or even a dollar, depending on how many people were playing. And then there was the food... Pronto Pups, cotton candy, the KC fish stand, the Pork Producers stand, the Raymond Methodist Church Lemonade Shake-ups, and of course homemade ice cream that was made with, dare I say it, RAW eggs! We lived on the edge back then.

Since Dad was on the Fire Department, we were allowed on the Gun Club grounds during the fireworks. I would meet up with him around dark, and we would make a stop at that small concession stand that was always set up near Mizera's. They served ice cream bars covered with chocolate and nuts, and we would enjoy ours as we made our way to the Gun Club. I seem to remember that the folks who ran that stand were from Nokomis and they came to Raymond's celebration for many years.

Back in those days, the fireworks were lit by hand, and Carl Peger and Gene Adams were in charge. From out seats on top of one of the firetrucks, we could see their silhouettes and their flares over in the distance. They would bend down, light the fuse, and then run like hell. A few seconds later, you would hear a loud swishing noise, and a single firework would shoot up into the sky and everyone would "oooh" and "ahhhh."  The fireworks went up one at a time for about thirty minutes until the finale, when they lit up a display that was shaped like the American Flag.

By the time we made it back uptown after the fireworks, the stands and the rides were being disassembled and the streets were being cleaned. By the next day, you could hardly tell that anything even happened.

American Legion float around 1960. From left -- Barb (Hannon) Boehler, Nancy (Bandy) Ryan, Chris (Hall) Meisner, Barb (Broaddus) Stephenson, and Russell Poggenpohl

A street scene of the 1967 celebration taken from on top of the Ferris wheel.

Rick Wagahoff and Rex Truebe in the early 1960's.

JP Masten and one of Bev and Bill Held's boys (Doug?) around 1990.

Summer Vacation

Earlier this week, I read a great piece by Melissa Fenton that was published in the Huntington Post about growing up in the 70's. It is entitled 10 Ways to Give Your Kids an Honest-to-Goodness 1970s Summer." It's definitely worth checking out and I think many people of a certain age will relate to it: (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/melissa-fenton/10-ways-to-give-your-kids-an-honest-to-goodness-1l970s-summer_b_5484462.htm).

It reminded me of my carefree childhood years during the 70's, and it helped bring back many wonderful memories of growing up in Raymond:  

• Playing at the "new" Raymond Park when the trees were just small saplings and there was no shade. The brand new aluminum sliding board seemed so tall, and it got so hot in the summer. We played on it anyway, and always brought a couple of sheets of wax paper along for maximum sliding potential.
• Playing Hide and Seek, Red Light/Green Light, Mother May I, and Red Rover until the streetlights came on.
• Pam being grounded for not going home when the streetlights came on.
• Running Lemonade/Koolaid stands at the corner of  Oak Street and the Black Diamond/East Road. If business was good and we ran out of styrofoam cups, we borrowed those plastic, pastel Tupperware glasses from someone's mom and promised to return them.
• Having walnut fights, mudball fights, water fights, and even BB gun fights with the neighborhood boys (Rick and Joe Ondrey, Toby and Keith Dean, and Danny Bob Hough). Also, playing "school" in our garage with that same crew (Pam and I were always the teachers).
• Riding our bikes directly behind the bug sprayer (inhaling all that insecticide and loving the smell of it!).
• Riding a go cart with the Ondrey boys up and down the street in front of their house, and riding a mini-bike and three wheeler with Brenda and Roger Myers in the alley next to the Standard Station. (I never wore a helmet and I almost always got a burn on my right leg from the exhaust pipe, but it was so much fun, who cared?)  
• Staying up all night playing Clue and Aggravation with Dena in the Pitchford family camper that was parked in their driveway. 
• Going to Bible School.
• Sunday afternoon fishing with Dad -- usually we would go to the Five Mile Bridge for a few hours, and then make a stop at Horseradish Lane to see if anything was biting. The last stop, around dusk, would always be the Gun Club so we could use up the worms.   
• Waking up with poison ivy after the Sunday fishing trip.
• Visiting with the next door neighbors after supper. Everyone would bring lawn chairs to Marge and Louie Krause's house and shoot the breeze in the side yard.
• Playing with the Lanter kids (from the other side of town) when they visited their Aunt Jane's house. Looking for fossils with Sherri in Jane's landscaping rocks.
• Swinging on the rope swing in John and Dot Hough's back yard and then taking a break and eating apples off the trees in Mitch and Helen Engleman's back yard.
• Having a stomachache after eating too many green apples at Engleman's.
• Swimming at Camp Jomoco.
• Hanging out uptown at "The Gallery" with Robin Niepert, inventing new drinks at the soda fountain, and then walking a few doors down to the Lincolnwood Community Reading Center. Rita Todt was the librarian and she always helped us select just the right book.
• Alternating between playing with Matchbox cars and my Barbie camper.
• And the perfect end to a long summer day --  Going to the Lancer Den for ice cream, then riding around town in the back of Dad's pick-up truck, listening to the Card's game on KMOX. 

The Cottonwood Tree

The Cottonwood Tree next to the train depot in 1971

I usually drive to Raymond at least once a year, by way of Interstate 70 to Vandalia and then wind my way up to Hillsboro on Rt. 185. I know that when I reach the first curve just south of Raymond, it would be most logical to take the Black Diamond short-cut and head straight to one of my sisters' houses. Instead, I follow Rt. 127 into town, make the right turn on Rt. 48 and then turn on Main Street, just to get a glimpse of the Cottonwood Tree, towering majestically over the village of Raymond. That's when I know I am finally home.

I've always been fascinated by it. Depending on the season, it's either flourishing with bright green triangular shaped leaves, or it appears stark and gray, it's bare crooked limbs reaching, almost painfully, toward the sky. I'm sure it got its start just like any other ordinary cottonwood tree back in the prairie days: a small seed floating on a cottony fiber in the breeze, swirling around oak trees and mulberry bushes, escaping all those beady-eyed Blue Jays that snapped at it and missed. By the time the seed made it to the tree's current spot, it was likely hanging by a thread as it skipped from rock to rock along the banks of the pond that was once located where Sorrells Elevator is today. Luckily, it landed in the dark rich soil that Montgomery County has always been known for; some of the same soil, that Abe Lincoln walked on as he journeyed to the Illinois State Capital, and the very soil that had once been marked by the footprints of slaves heading North on the Underground Railroad. 

As strange as this might sound, I've often thought of the tree as having a personality; after all, it's always there, overseeing all the comings and goings of everyone in town. It has withstood thunderstorms, and snowstorms, and debilitating ice storms, and stood by during joyous town celebrations as well as tragic accidents that occurred on the railroad tracks, just outside its reach. For those who served in the world wars, the Cottonwood Tree was probably the last thing they saw in Raymond as their train crossed the trestle and rounded the bend south out of town, and the first thing they saw when they returned as heroes years later. Of course, the unlucky ones never knew that its branches carried the echoes of the 21 gun salute on the day they were buried.

Experts will tell you that few cottonwood trees live to be over 100 years old. Based on the rings around its trunk, Raymond's Cottonwood Tree is estimated to be over 140 years old. I find it amazing to think that three generations of my family have come and gone, and the tree still stands. I hope it will continue to greet me when I return home, for many years to come.   

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If you're interested, following is some of the history of the
Cottonwood Tree that was printed in Raymond's 125th Anniversary Book in 1996: 

Raymond's one and only claim to a landmark is the famed Cottonwood Tree located next to the Wabash tracks on main street. This Cottonwood tree was a small sapling when the City of Raymond was founded, prior to the arrival of the Wabash Railroad in 1871, which resulted in the establishment of Raymond as a town. Joe Henry farmed around the tree, which was at that time on the bank of a pond. About the turn of the century, the trunk of the tree became hollow but remained alive and was used as a storage shelter by the grainman, L.C. McClurg .  He would store his scoop and end gate in the hollow area of the tree. The hollowed area was said to be big enough to enable a man to stand upright in the trunk . 

At any rate, the tree was always the center of activity during the community's annual July 4th festivities. The city's cannon was brought out of moth balls on Independence Day and shot off underneath the tree. Wabash railway officials threatened to cut the tree down two or three times, but refrained after receiving protests from the townspeople who have come to prize the old landmark. As late as 1958, the Raymond community exercised their right of petition and presented their formal protest to the railroad officials when the tree was again threatened with removal. With the support of the community and the request of the Town Board, the tree was saved. The tree is on Wabash property, beside the tracks, near the old depot, now a village parking lot. Old timers remember when the sake of the tree was a popular spot to meet and discuss community developments. The tree was a popular vending spot for local fish and watermelon "drummers" (salesman).

One report has it that the tree became hollow as a result of being burned by a bonfire during a Fourth of July celebration . H.H. Weatherford , in an article on April  15, 1897, says that John Bruscoe was killed by the explosion of powder on July 29, 1876, under the cottonwood tree on Main Street. Bruscoe was the proprietor of the local hotel. As one searches through reams of paper, conflicting stories are found , as to what actually happened. 

Familiar faces...

I came across this picture of some Raymond and Harvel seniors this week. It was taken when the group was celebrating Mexico Day in 1990. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think all of them are gone now.  

(Seated from left) Rose Mayer, Mabel Kraner, Frances Herman, Elaine Hannon, and Lorraine Seifert. (Standing from left) Marcella Woods, Velma Toberman, Mary Ann Truebe, Edith Hantla, Edna Wemsing, Leitha Pope, Bill Drake, Lloyd Pope, Ray Truebe, Dick Bechtel, Lawrence Poggenpohl, Bob Seifert, and Lloyd Lewey.