Memoirs of Norbert E. Gnadinger, Sr. Volume 1

1932

Have you ever had something happen to you in life in which it seemed that the happening changed your entire life? Well. I did. What happened to me was a wallop up-side the head. I have now passed into the sixth grade. The Sister who would teach me in the sixth grade was also the principle of St. Vincent de Paul, Sister Mary Modesta. You see, I remember her name. I didn’t know this but I must have been a very difficult student(person) to live with and Sr. Modesta finally got fed-up with me. Here is what occurred. Each day at mid-morning we had a “recess”(recreation) period. At the end of recess we returned to our rooms, stood next to our desk and sister recited a prayer. On this day, as usual, I think, I must have been “cutting-up” with other students and unknowingly interrupting her prayer and the tranquility of the class(?). The next thing I knew, I had been slapped up-side the head by sister. What a surprise and awakening that was. I had the strangest feeling occur. I did not get angry. It was though I had been asleep and had awakened. Sister Modesta got my attention and my respect. We became good friends through the rest of my days at grade school and I wrote her when she was transferred to a Chicago school. And, would you believe this, my grades began to improve as my interest in studies improved. Now, isn’t that a nice story? And, the story is true. The following may have happened to you, also. During my young days, we all questioned each other as to the hardest grade and school year we encountered. Most of the consensus at that time would agree it was the sixth grade. I found(note above)that the sixth grade started out difficult for me but ended up my best year.

I have been getting behind with my anecdotes about the life we lived in those days. All of you have seen the concrete walls of the canal which encloses Beargrass Creek from Eastern Parkway all the way past Main St. just short of emptying into the Ohio River. This canal was built over a two year span during this period of my life. Below the bed of the creek and the concrete were set in place with a pile driver, literally thousands and thousands of “treated” telephone poles for support. This pile driver worked day and night and you could hear the thump, thump, thump sound of it constantly except when they were aligning up the next pole. Today, I would be there watching everything that was involved in that construction project. At the time it was going on, we would visit to see how far along they were but that was about the extent of our interest. We had too many other, more interesting, things to do with our lives, such as play time. Today’s pilings used in building over sand or other unstable materials are mostly made from concrete. A Hugh cork-screw type gadget with a hollow tube in the center and a hose on top through which concrete is forced is positioned where the next piling is needed. The cork-screw begins turning and bites down in the sand or earth. When it reaches the required depth, the concrete begins feeding through the tube, the cork screw reverses itself bring up sand or dirt, the cork-screw is lifted slowly from the hole and the void that is left is constantly being filled with concrete. After the cork-screw is completely removed from that refilled hole, the worker fit steel reinforcement bars(re-bars)into the concrete for strength. The same construction principle as wood pilings but a new and they hope, a more permanent solution.(Helen’s Grandmother, Lena{Beierle}Lang died, Oct. 7, 1932)

Beargrass Creek hadn’t always emptied straight into the Ohio River as it does today. Long before my arrival on this earth, the creek, roughly, flowed to an area just past the junction of Mellwood Ave. Brownsboro Road and Story Ave. Here, it made a sharp turn to the west and paralleled the river until it emptied into the Ohio River between Third and Fourth St. This created a point of land and bridges were constructed over the creek to the land where there were factories and where people lived. All those people who lived there were considered, “living on the point,” or you “worked on the point.” From where the creek emptied into the river and back up the creek about a quarter mile, the creek was navigable and loaded barges were delivered directly to the various factories along the creek bank. Around 1880, Beargrass Creek was diverted to flow straight into the river. The creek bed was filled in and today you can see no trace of where the creek previously flowed.(1-24-2001)

As you no doubt know by now, Beargrass Creek had made a great impression on me. If nothing was happening in the neighborhood, someone would always say, “let’s go back to the creek.” We all responded to this as though it was a “brand-new” thought. We had a neighbor, Phillip Kamber. I went to school with his sister Dorothy and played with Albert(Efa) Kamber. They all lived at 1001 Ellison Ave. We always saw Phillip coming from the creek area carrying a wet burlap sack in his hands. After our curiosity got the better of us, we discovered he was a turtle fisherman. These were “snapping” turtles which were edible. His method of catching them was to walk, in the water of the creek, along the bank, all the while feeling up under the bank with his hands until he located a turtle. He would pull it out and if it were large enough he would put it in his bag to take home to make turtle soup or have turtle steaks. It was common knowledge among us kids that if a snapping turtle clamped down on a finger with his “beak”, he would not let go at all. You had to cut off his head and then wait until midnight before his jaws would relax and let go of this finger. Honest! Everyone knew about this. So you could see the danger Phillip Kamber was constantly in.

We had two famous turtle soup sources of supply when we were young. One was Kramer’s Bar located at Shelby and Breckinridge Sts. Theirs was by far the best. Helen also knew the Kramers and after Helen and I were married, we would associate with Mrs. Kramer. The second turtle soup sales outlet and much more famous was Hartsterns Grocery on south Shelby St. by the railroad tracks. Hartsterns was more famous because they would order a live “Sea” turtle in warm weather and put it in a pen on the sidewalk in front of the store for viewing by everyone until they slaughtered it for the meat and to make the soup. Those turtles were always four to five feet in diameter. Everyone was impressed. I never developed a taste for turtle soup until I married into the Buchter family and Helen’s father made his favorite mixture. Now it is, by far, my favorite soup. I’ll bring this up again, later.

After Beargrass Creek was controlled by concreting it into it’s present shape, we boys would take advantage of it’s smooth surface by riding our bicycles on it from one end to the other. Just off the intersection of Rufer and Schiller Sts. was an entrance to the creek bed which the city used when driving trucks down there for general clean-up and repair jobs. This was convenient for us and we used it all the time. I believe there is a locked gate there now. It was while riding down there that I learned a basic lesson in mechanics and engineering. My friend, Carl Berger and I, at this time, had identical “bikes.” He was smaller than I was. We would always race along the creek(or most anywhere)and I couldn’t, at first, understand why he could always beat me. I would make a fast start and be ahead of him, but, before we reached our goal, he would sail past me and win. I really got upset with the little bugger. We did have identical bicycles except for one thing he explained to me. His drive sprocket was a larger diameter. He would start slow but the power in the larger sprocket soon wore me down. I should have insisted on shorter races.

We all did more than just swim when we went out to the “creek.” The “creek” identified an area of fun for us. In season, we would pick black-berries. One of the best areas to find and pick berries was close to where the new Audubon Hospital is now sitting. Sometimes we would sell the berries door to door but mostly we just picked and ate and came home with chiggers. We were always hungry.