Happy New Year!

A little throwback to the Y2K scare back in 1999... 

Happy New Year to all the Throwback Thursday readers! See you in 2021!

Santa Claus is coming to town!

Downtown Raymond, Illinois. Photo courtesy of Nancy Weitekamp. 

Please enjoy tonight's encore presentation of the Throwback Thursday post, Santa Clause is coming to town, originally published in December, 2014.  

Raymond's Santa  -  Harold "Fats" Wagahoff

One of my favorite memories of growing up in Raymond is meeting Santa Claus on Main Street. He would come to town on a Saturday before Christmas, and dozens of children, many clutching their wish lists, would wait in line for what seemed like hours to talk to him and receive a small brown sack containing an orange, a peppermint stick, and two or three Hershey's Kisses. 

I remember one year in particular, standing in line shivering in my red wool coat with black trim. The general belief was that Santa always flew into Raymond and landed near the water tower (the old water tower along 48), but on this day, the line was buzzing with the news that Santa had been spotted coming out of the fire house. Someone's parents quickly let us know that Santa had stopped at the fire house on his way over from the water tower to warm up and "take care of his business" before greeting all of us. Of course we all eventually learned the truth about Santa, and found out that Santa was really Harold Wagahoff. And everyone agrees he was the best Santa ever.

A special thank you to Harold Wagahoff's granddaughter, Stella Merit Turner, for sharing the following article that appeared in the Montgomery County News on December 19, 1990:

The First Train Arrives in Town

The following information 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.  

The Wabash Depot in Raymond, Illinois

In the days I am thinking about and writing about, the Wabash Railroad could be likened to the artery of lifeblood to our town. This must have been a great day for our little town when a little tin pot engine came puffing up to the platform pulling a small string of dinky boxcars. So far as I know, there is no written record of what happened on this day of August 8, 1870, when the first train arrived in Raymond. Let me try to reconstruct in my imagination just what it was like.

Clouds of dust stirred up the by the rigs coming into Raymond would be seen in all directions. The word had gone out via the grapevine all about the vicinity of Raymond the railroad was finished and that the first train would come through our town. No time was set for the arrival of the train so everyone came in early so that they might not miss this great event for both the townspeople and the farms around Raymond. Already two elevators had been built there by the tracks and no longer would farmers close around Raymond have to haul their grain to Hillsboro or Litchfield to sell it. No longer would the people of Raymond have to drive to another town to catch a train to go where they wanted to go. All the hitch tracks on Main St. were full. Farmers coming later unhitched their teams and tied their horses to the wagon, spread a little hay for the horses to munch on, and headed for the depot. Mama and the kids followed papa as he headed toward the depot. To these farm children their leather boots sounded funny to them as they clumped over the wooden sidewalks. They had perhaps made a great fuss in the morning at home about wearing their boots, for they were used to going barefoot. The discomfort of the boots was forgotten there on the town sidewalks. It was so much fun for the boys to clump down hard on the sidewalks and hear the resulting noise so much that Mama had to tell them “stop acting so silly here in town, children.” Mother had to lift her long skirts as they came to the dusty street crossings. How quaint those old pictures of that day seem to us as we look at them now. The little girls with their long dresses and the boys with their leather boots and invariably scowling because they were having their pictures taken.

By this time, the boys have gotten ahead of Papa and were up nearly under the old cottonwood there on Main Street before he could get them stopped to stay by their parents. My, what a crowd of people. There was hardly standing room on the depot platform. The real depot had not yet been built. There was only a temporary shed there to house the stationmaster who was both telegraph operator and ticket seller.

The first thing our family wanted to know as they came up to the group of folks there under the big cottonwood “hear anything about what time the train is coming in?” Fred Mondhink replied that he would let everybody know when the word came over the telegraph wire that the train was leaving Litchfield. Some wooden benches had been set up there under the cottonwood tree for the waiting crowd. Papa found a place for Mama to sit behind some neighbor women and seeing young Reynolds Chapman in the crowd, an old war comrade moved over to reminiscence a bit about their days in the Union Army. Soon they were joined by Ab Kidd, Bill Guthrie, William Terry, and Cap Fisher. Only five years had passed since these young men have been discharged from the Union Army. Ridley Wesbrooks walked up to stand in the edge of the group listening to the Army talk he loved so well. Still a scarecrow from his terrible privations in Andersonville Prison, Ridley perhaps enjoyed the happiness of a life free from all the hardships of the Army more than any of the rest of these veterans who had not suffered what he had. Said Cap Fisher, “I hear that Ed Booth is going to build a brick building over there on the corner of Main and he told me that he was building it two story so that us Army boys will have a meeting place for our new Grand Army Post.” A murmur of assent ran though the group. What a strong comradeship there was between those young men who had suffered the hardships of the Civil War together.

A passenger train speeds through town in the 1960's. 

Just about this time, the crowd quieted down there on the depot platform. “Look, there’s Mr. Ling out there, wonder what he is saying?” They listened. “Listen everybody, the train was reported out of Litchfield about fifteen minutes ago. It should be here in about fifteen minutes.” A yell of approval went up from the waiting crowd. Little boys jumped down from the depot platform to the rails. Mother scolded them and told them to “get back up here this minute.” A half silence descended on the crowd. Pretty soon some said, “I heard a whistle and then someone yelled, “Look there she comes around the bend there by Sam Miller’s place.” Now a loud shrill blast came from the engine’s whistle and in a moment the crowd and even the little boys shrank back as the engine pulling a box car and a couple of passenger coaches jerked up to the depot platform and halted. The brakeman was twisting hard with his hickory stick on the brake wheel of the last passenger coach for there were no air brakes as yet on trains. For a moment, folks awed them to silence. Not for long, however, did the silence last for in a moment broke forth a mighty yell from the throats of these happy people. What a wonderful thing had happened to our town. At last, we had a railroad and now how the prosperity will come to our town.

Now some passengers were descending from the train. Coming down the steps of the passenger coach was Joe Potts followed by his little wife. Joe had gone to Litchfield the night before so that he might be one of the first passengers to ride into our town of Raymond on this wonderful new railway and further that he might write up in the newly established paper, “The Raymond Independent,” the story about just how it felt to ride into our town on a train. Following Joe Potts came Joe Kessinger and young Doctor Herman. And so came the first railroad train to Raymond or at least this is the way I like to think it all happened in my imagination for so far as I know there is no written record of what happened on that the day the trains began coming to our town.

So the years went on and light rails that were first laid to carry the small passenger coaches and light box cars were taken up and heavier rails laid down as the passenger trains grew heavier and the box cars bigger, and by 1905 there were long heavy trains thundering through Raymond night and day. There were the fast passenger trains that ran between Chicago and St. Louis and did not stop in our town and they were heavily patronized. I like to think of the railroad as then being the artery that keep the lifeblood of business and pleasure flowing through out town. That day is gone now it seems. The truck and the car have taken over. No longer is the little depot filled with folks of our town happily chatting as they wait for the “half past eight” to carry them to Litchfield or St. Louis for a day of shopping in the larger stores there. Litchfield is only twenty minutes away by car and hard road. Thinking of those pleasant and more leisurely days, I feel sad now when I come and look at the little deserted depot still there by the tracks and standing there by the old cottonwood. I keep looking there at the little depot and the long platform and I picture it again as it was in those dear dead days of so long ago. The trains, both freight and passenger, still thunder by the little depot both day and night, but none stop to let off the happy people as they did in those days when the “half past eight, the nine-ten, the three-fifteen and the last one in the evening -- the half past seven” that brought the Litchfield and St. Louis shoppers back home again.

A Date Which Will Live in Infamy

Tuesday, December 7 marked the 79th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. On that day in 1941, more than 2,400 Americans were killed and 1,000 injured in a surprise attack by the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service that lasted a little over an hour. President Roosevelt asked congress to declare war on Japan the following day. The headline in the December 8, 1941 Illinois State Journal proclaimed “U.S. IN WAR” in extra-large letters.

When I was growing up, mom and dad spoke about Pearl Harbor and WWII quite frequently, but it all seemed like ancient history to me. As they were talking, I would picture everything being in black and white, and I could almost hear the old fashioned Glenn Miller Orchestra music playing in the background. Now that I’m about the same age that my parents were in the 70's, I have a different perspective and I can understand that back then, the 1940’s seemed like only yesterday to my parents, just like the 1990’s now seem like only yesterday to me. I mean, the days of watching Seinfeld and hearing songs by Nirvana and Pearl Jam for the first time were not really that long ago, right? And when you consider what people living in the 40’s went through, it’s no wonder that it was all still sort of fresh in my parents' minds when I was growing up. Now that I’m older, I wish I would have paid more attention to their stories and recorded more information about those days.

Dot Pinkston recently told me that she clearly remembers when she heard the news about Pearl Harbor. She said she was glued to the radio for a few hours and then remembers running uptown and meeting up with Joanie Whalen (Joanie Lange). Dot said the two of them were really “worked up” and were so scared by the thought that all the young men in town would soon be leaving for war. 

This made me remember that years ago, my mom had also spoken about “all the men leaving.” She once told me that in the months following the attack, more and more men just kept leaving for war until finally there were hardly any men left. She worked at the bank in Hillsboro and would go to the movie theater with her coworkers and watch newsreels of war updates. Dot, who was in high school in Raymond at the time said that anytime she was not in class, she worked at her family’s grocery store to help fill in for the store employees who were gone.      

Over 220 men from Raymond served in WWII. My dad, who was one of them, told plenty of stories about being in the war, but I don’t recall him ever talking about the prospect of going to war. I imagine that he, like most of the others, was scared, but he just did what he had to do and didn’t talk about it. He left for the Army on November 20, 1942 and did not return home until November of 1945. While the vast majority of men returned home, sadly, eight men from Raymond gave their lives during the years 1943-1945: Marvin Brown, Robert Mayfield, John R. Mitts, Leslie Tucker, Charles Varner, Billy VanZant, Edward Martin, and Murray Bost.

Even during challenging times, you can always find uplifting stories. Here is one that is related to Pearl Harbor Day: 

Sunday, December 7, 1941 was Anita Goby’s 15^th birthday. It also happened to be the day that she had her first date with Bruce Hall. Bruce went on to serve in the Marines in World War II. According to their daughter, Chris Meisner, romance by love letters is doable, and the couple became engaged while her dad was on leave at the end of the war. He went on to continue his enlistment as a Rifle Instructor at Annapolis, Maryland for the U.S. Marine Corps. The couple was married at the First Presbyterian Church in Raymond on June 14, 1947. Bruce enjoyed a career at the First National Bank in Raymond and is remembered as one of the nicest guys around. Anita (Mrs. Hall to me), was my 6^th grade teacher and was a favorite teacher of many students who went to grade school in Raymond. She celebrated her 94^th birthday this week.

People from the Past: The Chicken Wagon Man

 The following information 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. 

Dear old Newt Scott. I wish that I could set down on this paper just how I remember him. Newt started out to be a schoolteacher; I suppose his growing family made him try to find something that would better help him to support his family. Thirty to fifty dollars a month for teaching school about seven or eight months a year was hard to get along on. So, Newt became the driver of the “chicken wagon,” or rather one of the drivers for the G.M.D.  Legg Poultry Company. This was the company that had bought the old I.J. Lawler building and turned it into a place where chickens were picked, eggs were candled, crated, and shipped, and feathers were stored and sent off a few times each year in great burlap sacks. They also dumped the fine butter bought from the farmers’ wives indiscriminately into big fifty gallon barrels and sent it away someplace to be rechurned and sold in the big cities.

Now, a chicken wagon driver was quite a personage to the farmers’ wives along his route. To him was sold the surplus young fryers, mostly young roosters. The best looking young hens were saved to produce eggs and so on. He would buy all the eggs and butter the farmers’ wives had to sell. The chicken wagon had a regular day to come. What did a chicken wagon look like? Well, it was just about a four-storied chicken coop on wheels. There was railing around the top to hold on the cases of eggs that the chicken wagon man bought as he covered his route. Also, here were the butter firkins into which was dumped the butter that was bought. Sometimes in muddy weather, it took four mules to drag the chicken wagon on around its route. I think that perhaps Newt Scott was an ideal chicken wagon man. He was polite, he always joked with the women, if they liked to joke, he was a shrewd buyer for his company, he could figure quickly just how much so many pounds of chicken came to or how much so many dozen eggs would be, all in all Newt was an ideal chicken wagon man. Now, I suppose he would be called our poultry, egg, and butter buyer, but to the farmwomen he was just the chicken man who came every Thursday and brought the little cash money that was scarce in the lives of these hard-working women.

Newt’s tiny blonde wife was a dear little soul and she gave Newt three babies. Again memory is hazy and I cannot think of but one’s name and that was Herschel. An incident stands out here. It was haying time and I was working for Frankie Bowles out east of town driving the horse to the hayfork. This was before Newt began his career as a “chicken wagon man”. He was working there during his summer vacation helping Frankie get his Timothy hay up. It was Saturday night and the week’s work was over and Frankie and Newt and his small boy were driving back to Raymond for the weekend. That is, Newt and I were going home for the weekend and Frankie was driving us in. It was a beautiful summer evening and as we drove along the country lane that led us by the old Blue Mound Church, the Henry Hitchings place high up there on the mound to the right, and the Frank Brandes place on another mound to our left, we are going into the sunset and Newt began to sing a song about “Going Down the Mountain into the Sunset.” I suppose Newt was happy about going home to see his wife and babies and the song just bubbled up out of his happiness at this good prospect. A good memory and even now I hum the tune of this old song at times and somehow this little scene of so long ago comes into my mind.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

 The following article appeared in The Raymond News on 1/30/75:

Volunteer Fireman putting up the town Christmas lights in the 90's.

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I'm not sure if this is still the case or not, but when I was a kid, the firemen put up the town's Christmas lights on the Sunday before Thanksgiving and they were turned on for the first time on Thanksgiving night. I couldn't wait to go uptown that night to see the lights that were strung across Main Street and the Santa and reindeer display that was set-up near the old water tower along Rt. 48. 

And that was just the beginning of the excitement. Seeing the Christmas lights on Main Street was a reminder that mom and dad would soon be decorating the store and  it was almost time to make our annual trip to Earl and Doris Sorrells' farm to find the perfect tree. The Sears Christmas Wish Book would be arriving in the mail and Santa's annual Saturday afternoon visit to Raymond was right around the corner. The upcoming weeks would be busy with practices for school and church Christmas programs, and with shopping that included picking out the perfect Secret Santa gift for a classmate (with a $2.50 spending limit!). 

Even after all these years, when I'm in Raymond for the holidays I still love turning down Main Street and seeing the Christmas lights.

Mom's BFF

Marge Trinkle and Eileen Gamlin in the late 30's

     I was sad to hear the news that Marge Hough, one of my mom’s life-long friends, passed away this week. 

My mom, Eileen Gamlin Bandy, met Marge (Margie Trinkle) when they started high school together in Raymond in the late 1930’s. The Gamlins lived in a farmhouse on one of the twin hills east of town, and up until that time, mom had attended a nearby country school. Back in those days, there was no “hard road” and travelling back and forth to Raymond for high school was difficult, so mom frequently stayed all night with Marge in town. At one point during high school, she ended up living with the Trinkles for almost an entire year, while the road (now known as the Nokomis Blacktop) was being constructed.

Following graduation, Marge went to business school in Missouri and mom went to business school in Springfield. After a short time, they both returned to the Raymond area. Marge married Raymond “Jiggs” Hough in 1946, and their first daughter, Kathy, was born around the time my mom and dad were married in 1947. My brother, Joe, was born the following year in 1948, and then mom and Marge were expecting at the same time on two occasions: Maury Hough and Bob Bandy were born less than a month apart in 1950, and Becky Hough and Nancy Bandy were born about six weeks apart in 1953. As young mothers raising several kids, mom and Marge felt lucky to have each other for support, especially when it came to dealing with Moe and Bob's shenanigans. In the 70’s and 80’s, mom and Marge worked together at the First National Bank of Raymond.

Marge and Jiggs Hough
in the mid-90's

I have always thought of Marge as one of the nicest people I have ever known, and one of the most resilient women I have ever known. A breast cancer survivor, Marge’s kind spirit and faith remained strong, even when she lost Jiggs after nearly 60 years of marriage, and after losing two of her adult children, Maury and Becky. 

Marge lived in her home until a few years ago when she moved to Tremont Ridge Assisted Living in Hillsboro. A couple of my siblings and I visited her there last fall. At age 96, she was still happy and on the go, and I'm so glad we got to have that last visit with her.   

Marge once gave Mom a bracelet that is made of several links. If you look closely, you can still see the words that are inscribed on each link: “With-Love-To-Eileen-From-Your-Friend-Marjorie-1943.” Mom kept it for the rest of her life. 

Rest in peace, Marge. You will be missed. 

Still Standing

Raymond's World War I veteran's monument once stood in the middle of Main Street on the east side of the railroad tracks. It was eventually moved to the high school, and later to Veteran's Memorial Park on the Gun Club grounds. According to Raymond's 125 Years of Memories book, the cannon in the top photo was given to a scrap drive during World War II to be melted down. 

Veteran's Memorial Park - Raymond, Illinois 

Thank you for your service

With Veteran's Day approaching, I thought it would be a good time to run another encore post from August, 2014 about one of Raymond's veterans, Elmer Carriker. Elmer was the son of Joseph Elmer and Cleo Carriker of Raymond. The couple had ten children. Four of their sons served at the same time in World War II: Charles, Philip, William, and Elmer, Jr. Their younger brother, Kenneth, served in the Army in the Korean War. The last surving Carriker sibling, William "Bill" Carriker, recently died on October 30th at the age of 97. 

 
On August 14, 1945, Japan surrendered unconditionally to the Allies, effectively ending World War II. Since then, both August 14 and August 15 have been known as “Victory Over Japan Day,” or simply “V-J Day.”

The following information appears in Raymond's 125th Anniversary book: 

Raymond celebrated V-J Day on Tuesday, August 14, 1945 shortly after 6:00 p.m. when the official announcement came over the radio that Japan had accepted the Allied terms of unconditional surrender. The fire siren sounded continuously, and the church bells rang out the good news. Automobile horns sounded without ceasing and gunpowder and firecrackers added to the noise. Many Raymond people went to church Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning. Stores in Raymond were closed all day Wednesday.

Elmer Carriker of Raymond was witness to the signing of the Japanese surrender in World War II. Carriker was in the U.S. Navy stationed aboard the USS Wren which saw engagements in Okinawa and the Aleutian Islands with the Third Fleet. on the morning of August 16, 1945 the Wren was among a combined fleet of over 100 ships near the Japan shores. Carriker watched through binoculars as the Japanese taxi boat drew near the USS Missouri and saw the Japanese officers sign the surrender documents in front of General MacArthur and Admiral Halsey.

Special thanks to Janna Carriker Lawrence and Keith Carriker for providing Elmer's photo.  

 

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Following is a throwback that was published in The Raymond News on August 27, 1964.  By the way, this Saturday, 10/31 marks the 160th birthday of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts.  

 

Reading this made me think about all the fun my friends and I had in the 70's, when we were in Junior Girl Scout Troop #208 led by Diane Pitchford and Roberta Mitts. Sometime, I'll have to write down my memories from those days. In the meantime, here are the words to my all-time favorite Girl Scout campfire song. How many of you remember it? 

Days of Girl Scouting will fly away, die away
Days of true friendship will be memories
We have loved, we have learned
Let us now teach in turn
That the flame we have kindled forever shall burn.

All of our footsteps will fade away, fade away
Others will follow the paths we have trod
With their hearts full of love
And their songs full of joy
To keep the flame burning for those yet to come.

Trick or Treat

Please enjoy tonight's encore presentation of  the Throwback Thursday post, Trick or Treat, originally published in October, 2014.  

Earlier this week, I was telling my son tales about the real Halloween, the one that took place back home in Raymond. It was the good old days, back before there were Halloween superstores and easy access to all kinds of fancy costumes and decor. We had basically the same stuff to work with year after year, and it was stored in a big cardboard box way up on the top shelf of the back porch closet. About a week before Halloween, Dad would climb up a small ladder and get the box full of treasures down for us. It was full of old masks and various props, and with some creativity, imagination, and plenty of mom’s Avon red lipstick, it was possible to reinvent yourself year after year.

Terry and Brenda Todt and family at the
Raymond Halloween parade in 1994.

 The masks were old and uncomfortable. They were manufactured out of hard plastic and you could barely breathe, let alone see where you were going. Your mask was secured to your head with a tight, thin elastic band that got tangled in your hair and usually ended up snapping you in the face a few times over the course of the evening. The “costumes” were often regular clothes that were too big or worn out, but with ingenuity it was possible to fashion a decent costume. In fact, that was half of the fun of the whole thing. 

The days leading up to Halloween were exciting. You selected the perfect pumpkin(s), carved them, and stocked up on votive candles. Various clubs and organizations like 4-H, Scouts, and church groups hosted hay rides that cruised through the countryside after dark before making a couple of passes through town, leaving behind a hay trail on the streets. My mom worried that hayrides were too dangerous, but I thought they were great fun. What could possibly go wrong with fifty unruly kids wrestling around in the back of a hay wagon that was being pulled by a tractor down a dark country road? Mom always lectured my sisters about how they should never wear jewelry on a hayride, especially hoop earrings, because so and so nearly had her ear ripped off when her hoop earring got caught on a wagon. I think that was a Raymond urban legend, and to this day I’m still not convinced that ever really happened to anyone. 

My friends and I spent Sundays in October raking leaves into huge piles and jumping in them, coming up with ideas for the haunted house we were always going to build but never did, and trick-or-treating for UNICEF. As Halloween grew closer, the soaping started. It was mainly on the storefront windows on Main Street, and sometimes on certain people’s car windows or houses. It was common knowledge that Ivory or Dove brands worked the best, and if you really wanted to “get” someone, you used paraffin. I remember walking up and down the aisles of Mizera’s Market, my pockets heavy with the change that a half-dozen kids had pooled together, trying to get up the nerve to go up to the cash register to purchase the soap and toilet paper. In the end it was all worth it to see the TP hanging from the bare tree limbs on a dark, windy Halloween night. 

Trick-or-Treating in Raymond went on for two or three nights because you had to have time to go to almost every house in town, where you would be invited inside and subjected to a barrage of questions while the family who lived their tried to guess who you were. Once they were done guessing and the masks came off, they gave you FULL-SIZE candy bars, not the little miniatures that are handed out now. And although there were the stories from big cities where glass or razor blades were found in candy, in Raymond, it was not necessary for your parents to go through all your stuff to make sure it was safe. Of course it was safe. 

Each year, Mrs. Blodgett, the widow who lived next door to the Ondrey’s, would dress up as a witch and hand out candy to everyone. We were scared to death of her year round, but particularly on Halloween, and I remember huddling together in her front yard, trying to work up the courage to ring her doorbell. (Of course, we eventually learned that our perceptions of her were entirely wrong, and she was one of the nicest people in town.)

Many years later, Raymond started hosting an annual Halloween parade. While I didn’t have any luck finding a picture from Halloween from way back in my day, I did find this cute picture of Terry and Brenda Todt and their family, taken in 1994 at Raymond's Halloween parade.

Hey, batter batter

Kiwanis Little League players at the Raymond Park in the mid-70's.
Pictured from left are Roger Alsbury, Larry Lanter, and Ed Arnett. 

The following article appeared in The Raymond News on September 11, 1975:

Larry Lanter 

Picture of Carl Walch compliments of Toots Walch.  On the back of the photo someone had written, "Don't know if he could hit the ball, but should be able to catch it with that big glove."

Thanks to Pam and Larry Lanter and to Janet Walch for providing this week's photos!

It's a dandy...

          Advertisement in The Raymond News, July 1964

The following information appears in Raymond's 125 Years of Memories Book published in 1996:

Bandy Chevrolet Company

On October 13, 1948, Elmer H. Bandy became an authorized Chevrolet dealer in Raymond, known as Bandy Chevrolet Company. Temporary space was rented in the Halford Garage, owned and operated by Hugh E. Halford, Sr. and his son, Hugh, Jr. An agreement was made with the Halfords to service new and used cars and trucks until a new building could be built and equipped.

Construction of a new 5,400 sq. ft. modern garage building was stared in February 1949. A formal opening of the new facilities was held on July 9, 1949. Bandy purchased the adjoining property with an 1,800 square foot building from Beatrice Gifford in 1957. This building was remodeled as a showroom large enough for seven new cars.

Improvements completed in 1959 included a 4,080 square foot addition to the main building, and in 1968, another addition was completed to provide additional parts and office space.

After 44 years as a franchised Chevrolet dealer, Elmer terminated his contract with Chevrolet Motor Division in August 1992. On October 25, 1992 a closing out sale was held on remaining parts in stock, shop and office equipment, and a collection of old vehicles. He continued to operate a used car lot at his location until his death on April 9, 1993.

The building remained vacant until January 12, 1996 when it was sold to Dave and Julie Watson who moved their collision repair shop there.

Elmer H. and Carroll C. Bandy resided in the Litchfield area before starting their business in Raymond in 1948. There are the parents of two children, Jane Elizabeth and John R.

Main Street Musings: The Raymond Creamery

From Raymond's Centennial Book published in 1976:  

The Creamery began its operation in Raymond in the 1920's when the building was purchased from Gate Manufacturing Co. There were stockholders in this operation with Mr. Clarence McNaughton holding the major share of the stock. In the beginning the milk purchased from the farmers was shipped out on the train. In 1929, Lee Alderfer came to Raymond and hauled the milk to Litchfield. There were only dirt roads at this time. Mr. Alvie McNeal was manager of the Creamery for years. Other employees of the Creamery included: Ted Lang, Ed Hellrung, Harlan Hinkley, and Harold Frank.

In 1932, they began making Cheddar and Long Horn cheese. This was the same year the Creamery won an award at the state fair for the cheese that was made there. 

The Creamery remained in operation until the early 1940's, at which time Mr. Alderfer bought out the other shareholders and bought the building.  

New sign at the old school

The following appeared in the September 10, 1964 issue of The Raymond News:

Around town in the 90's

The Raymond Buckeye's 4-H Club, with help from the Raymond-Harvel Kiwanis Club, held recycling drives twice a month at the old Creamery building. 

Rick Broaddus (left), Raymond's Water and Sewer Superintendent, and Mike Masten, Raymond's Street Superintendent in 1996.  

Raymond Grade School students participated in a drug awareness program. 

 Photos from Raymond's 125 Years of Memories book. 

Record School Enrollment

The following was published in The Raymond News on September 1, 1966: 

Conspiracy Theory

 The following appeared in the January 5, 1967 issue of The Raymond News: 

People from the Past: Joe Card

The following information 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. 

There was a man in our town whose name was Joe Card. Now Joe was not a prominent man in our town but he was a well-known man for he served several hitches, if I may use that term, as our town Marshall. The daylight hours of a town Marshall could have been from sun up to sundown or perhaps from daylight to dark. I doubt if there were any set hours. Time clocks were unheard of in our town in those days. What did Joe Card look like, you say? Well, he was a tall man weighing perhaps 180 pounds and along with most of the other men of our town, he wore a good-sized mustache. The color of his mustache is not remembered but it is remembered that Joe lived in one of Dr. Hicks’ rent houses and the house was just across from the Gus Davis place. I know you have no idea where the Gus Davis place was, but the Davis place was just a block or so from Highway 48 where it meets 127. Dr. Hicks had three rent houses, one next to where Nancy Graham lives now, and then the Joe Card place and on around the curve and faced on the same street and just across the street where my friend of the olden days, Mrs. Ada Kildow now lives. These old places are long gone as is their owner, the late Dr. Hicks.

Now, a town Marshall in our town didn’t have much to do for we were a law-abiding town and I imagine a whole year could go by without Joe Card being called on to arrest anyone. Sometimes in the winter, a tramp might ask to stay all night in the calaboose there in the town hall. There was a bed in the steel cage and as the calaboose was in the town hall, Joe would bring in a couple of buckets of coal from the town hall coal house and tell the bum he could keep the fire going all night. Joe spent a lot of his time in the summer sitting on one of the settees in front of the Darlington Lumber yard office or the one in front of Jim Houcks elevator office. Then, too, there were the five daily trains that stopped at Raymond each day and carried our citizens away to other parts of Illinois or the nation. The first train came down from Decatur at seven thirty a.m. and the next morning train came up from St. Louis somewhere between nine and nine thirty a.m. Its destination was Decatur. Old Number Nine, the solid mail train, came through the town at sixty miles an hour and the train mail clerk kicked off a small mail pouch and grabbed a catcher pouch with a big iron hook as the train roared through the town. A couple of times it looked as though the mail clerk didn’t kick the mail pouch hard enough to clear the train wheels. The pouch was sucked under the train and the ground up mail went flying in all directions. It took Win Carter and Joe Card and all the small boys who happened by to get the torn up mail gathered up and put into what was left of the mail pouch.

Joe Card had two children. Derry was a tall black haired lad of some fifteen or sixteen summers. His little sister, Geneva, had black hair and a face full of freckles. Joe’s wife, Naomi, had died some years before and Joe was doing his best to raise his motherless children alone. Just how many years Joe Card was town Marshall in our town is not remembered. When his term was over, Joe would sometimes dig tile ditches and sometimes do carpenter work.

Main Street Musings: Roy Reineke Hardware Store

Roy Reineke and his son, Bill, at the Hardware Store in the mid-1930's

Roy Reineke grew up in Raymond and attended grade school and high school in Raymond. After graduation, he took a commercial course at Gem City College in Quincy. Upon completion of the course, Roy returned to Raymond and went to work for Ellis Henderson, a grocer and hardware merchant, and also worked as a bookkeeper for the Darlington Lumber Company. 

Roy purchased the hardware end of the business from Mr. Henderson and founded the Roy Reineke Hardware Store in 1912. A new store was constructed by Roy for his business at the corner of Broad and McGown Streets in 1917. 

He continued operating the business until his death in November 1956. His son, William “Bill” Reineke, operated the hardware business from 1956 -1966. Bill married Mary Lee Holmes of Farina, Illinois and both of them were long-time educators in the Panhandle School District. 

The photo and information above appear in Raymond's 125 Memories Book, published in 1996. 

Good Neighbors

When I copied this photo from the October 22, 1964 issue of The Raymond News, I didn't realize I had cut off the caption in the process, so I'm not sure who the neighbors pictured in the photo were actually helping. I decided to use it anyway, because I love the idea that in the event that a farmer became ill or died, leaving crops in the field, everyone would pitch in and help with the harvest. When my Grandpa Gamlin died suddenly in June, 1953, my grandma, Wilma Gamlin, was forever grateful for the help she received from her neighbors during that difficult year. 

As a kid growing up in Raymond, I was taught that people are generally goodhearted. Anytime I complained about someone or expressed anger about someone, my parents would almost always point out the good qualities of that particular person and encourage me to do the same. I can still hear my dad saying, "so and so" would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it." That was dad's way of saying shut up, cut the person a break, and get over whatever problem you have with them.     

Helping and caring for others has always been a way of life in Raymond. The Fire Department, and later the Ambulance service were both staffed by dedicated volunteers. If someone had a serious illness, if a family lost their home to a fire, or if some other tragedy occurred, people always stepped up immediately to do whatever they could to help. I experienced the kindness of members of the community first-hand, when my parents were in a serious accident in 1996. I have never forgotten the outpouring of love and support that was shown to our family during that time, and I often think about how lucky I am to have grown up in Raymond with so many good neighbors.    

The Lucky Nine

From The Raymond News, July 2, 1964:

People from the Past: William "Uncle Bill" Guthrie

I find it interesting to learn about some of the characters who lived in Raymond long before I was born, and even before my parents were born. One of those characters was William H. Guthrie.

The following information 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. 

Here is a man that the folks in our town called “Uncle Bill.” Uncle Bill was well known to everyone in Raymond and Harvel. He was not a big man neither was he a small man. I remember him best by his huge gray beard and his great shock of iron gray hair. As did many of the men of his day, he seemed to always have had on a pair of leather boots with his pants legs stuffed into the boot tops. He was a cane carrier, but he never seemed to use his cane to help him in getting about. He was a gregarious man who loved to talk with his fellow man, and one would often see Uncle Bill sitting in the shade of the porch that was in front of Kim Bradley’s elevator office, or in the little Post Office or in Charley Scherer’s grocery store talking with some friends or perhaps arguing the political issues of the day. Uncle Bill was what we called a strong Republican and he was not one to hesitate to state his views on a subject.

Grave of William and Elisabeth Guthrie at Asbury Cemetery 

William Guthrie was born over in Green County, Illinois, on October 3, 1840. His folks were natives of Kentucky. Milton and Catherine (Fisher) Guthrie came over from Kentucky to Madison County, Illinois, when Uncle Bill’s father was a small boy. Uncle Bill was the third son in his father’s family. He grew up in Greene County, and on November 9, 1865, he married a pretty neighbor girl by the name of Elisabeth Martin, a daughter of Josiah and Eliza Martin.

William and Elisabeth first settled in Raymond Township and later moved into Havel Township where they bought land located in Section 29 and today this land is still owned by their daughter Laura.

There were six children born to the William Guthrie’s and as a boy, I knew all of them except one. Dennis is the one best remembered for he had polio as a young man and became a life-long cripple. His father set him up in the jewelry business on Main Street (called Broad now) and Dennis became a successful businessman for a number of years.

Uncle Bill lived to a ripe old age and then one day he was no more. There are few living in the old hometown today that will remember him, but those who do will always have a pleasant memory.

Rollback

Check out the prices at Mizera's Market in Raymond in July, 1964!  Who couldn't use 12 rolls of toilet paper for $1.00? 

Summer 4-H Fun

The following article appeared in The Raymond News on August 6, 1964:

Steve Wagy 

Main Sreet Musings: Raymond Super Service

The following was taken from Raymond’s 125 Years of History Book published in 1996:

Pinkston's Raymond Super Service Building on Broad Street in 1983.

 On June 1, 1943, the Raymond Super Service, an auto and farm machinery repair shop, was opened. Originally, this was a three-way partnership venture, but by the end of the second year, the other partner was bought out, leaving Glen Pinkston as the owner. Due to the war, no new cars were being built at this time.

For the first few years, there were many farmers from as far away as Tuscola, Lovington, and Arthur who came to Glen for rebuilt magnetos, since he had made quite a name for himself when he worked for Johnson Implement Co. in Taylorville. In 1945, Glen Pinkston signed a contract with Chrysler Corporation to sell Plymouth and DeSoto automobiles as the factories were now gearing up for building cars again. The following year, Glen purchased the building from L.E. (Shorty) Hendrickson of Litchfield who had built it about 1918. It was operated as a general repair shop by Ray Guthrie and later Ray Trinkle operated a Chevrolet dealership there until World War II. The Pinkston family credits the First National Bank of Raymond for its importance in helping Glen secure sole proprietorship of the business as well as purchasing the building and a home for the family. In the early years, Glen also handled small and large appliances, as new cars were hard to get when they first came out.

Glen "Buck" Pinkston and  Carl Routt at the Raymond Super Service in 1954.

Wayne “Barney” Henderson was a mechanic for the business for many years. He often worked side by side with Glen. All of Glen’s mechanics had the advantage of Chrysler Corporation technical training. Glen made many of the tools used in serving new car, and quite often improved upon some of the many new ones he purchased each year. Upon Glen’s death, Bates Motor Co. of Litchfield purchased his entire tool collection.

Glen died in 1983 just two weeks short of his 69^th birthday. He had suffered a serious heart attack in 1968, but had recovered enough to continue working.

Glen and his wife, Mildred, were married May 21, 1936. Mildred was born in 1917 in St. Elmo and grew up in the town of Bethany. She worked full time at the business firm from 1943 to 1969 when she took a job with the Illinois Department of Revenue in Springfield. After that, she continued to work part-time at the garage until it closed and full time at the Department of Revenue until her retirement in 1989.

They became the parents of eight children: Gene, Bob, Marcia, Sheryl, Pat, Glenda, Debra, and Brenda. The Pinkston family lived in a home at 211 N. McElroy, which they purchased in 1946. It had formerly been the home of Stephen and Sophia Schulte, a brother and sister who operated a bakery attached to the back of the home for many years. At the time of purchase, the back half of all three lots was occupied by raspberry bushes and a grape arbor extended from across the back of the bakery down to the alley. There were also quite a few trees around the rest of the lots, but disease and storms decimated their number, until now only three walnut trees are left.

One night, 15 owls lit in an elm tree and were a source of delight to the neighborhood children. The next morning they were gone. In his youth, Billy Ross Hough would come to the house and conduct funerals for dead birds and kittens there, complete with flowers, mourners, sermons and committals.  

New Ride

The following photo appeared in the July 16, 1986 issue of the Panhandle Press. 

I’m pretty certain that July 14, 1986 was one of the happiest days of my Dad’s life when he received a brand new moped as a gift from the Raymond Fire Department upon his retirement after many years of service to the department. Right after the photo above was taken, he took his first ride on the scooter, buzzing straight home to show mom and me, before heading back uptown to the old firehouse where the retirement party continued. Although he had officially retired from the fire department, from that day on, he continued to serve by manning the radios at the firehouse during calls. When the fire siren rang, you could almost always count on seeing Charlie Bandy on his bright red scooter hightailing it uptown to help.

Dad with one of my nieces, Lara Lebeck, in 1987

He added a small white utility basket on to the front of the scooter, big enough to carry a loaf of bread and other items he might pick up on a quick trip to Mizera’s Market or while running errands at the bank, the post office, or the drug store. You would also see him tooling around town on his scooter while checking on elderly friends and neighbors. 

Dad made room in the garage for a parking spot for his beloved scooter, and he was meticulous about maintaining it. Even after many years passed, it was still in wonderful condition and was practically like brand new. He rode it almost year round, weather permitting, for the rest of his life. When he died, someone drove it inside the Raymond Methodist Church for the visitation and funeral. It was comforting to see the shiny fire engine red scooter there among the dozens of flower arrangements and photo tributes, parked right next to his giant fire boots and the white chief’s helmet that he had worn for 25 years.

It’s interesting to note that on another Monday, July 14th, this one 22 years to the day that Dad received the surprise scooter, I received unexpected news that my mom had died.  I guess July 14^th goes down as one of the happiest days and saddest days in my family history. 

Boys' State

Article from The Raymond News, July 16, 1964