Memoirs of Norbert E. Gnadinger, Sr. Volume 1

1959

Except for a couple of very important events which I’ll talk about at length at the appropriate time, this year was a very quiet one. This gives me the leeway to preach a little bit. Most of the following in given in jest.

The key word is “euphemisms”. The substitution of one phrase or word for another. Usually a sweet sounding word or phrase for ones that defined the action most accurately. Take the word, “Love”. When I grew up, we were taught to love God, our parents and each other. We “liked” other, inanimate, objects. Today, persons “Love” their hair, belt, house, mouse trap, weed-eater, nail polish, potatoes, stapler, stereo, fireplace, grass, computer, door knobs, coat hangers, mayonnaise, telephone, water bed, trees, pen, watch, automobile, to eat out, flying, TV, garage, city bus, insurance policy, pizza, christmas tree, sun glasses, aspirin, wedding ring, the moon, sail boat, vacation, job, fiction, lakes, tall buildings, etc., etc., ad nauseam. It seems they love everything but they do not “like” each other.

The following are more examples. I am not making fun of a person’s misery following a death in the family. For instance, the correct description of a death would be; He “died” at such and such a nursing home or on a certain date. The usual “euphemisms” are these. She passed away------------. Where did she pass. Was she buried while still living and breathing? He departed this life---. She has gone to join the Lord and be at peace. He returned to his heavenly Father. She is preceded in rest by---. He went to be with the Lord. She went to meet her Father in heaven. He departed this earth on---. Don’t judge me too harshly on the contents of this paragraph. It only shows that I have a questioning attitude.

Other examples just occurred to me. When I was young and while our children were growing up, when we had a bowel movement, we always used “toilet paper”. Nowadays you can’t find “toilet paper” in the stores. You must buy “bath tissue”? Now, that brings up another question. When you are taking a bath, tell me how you would use the “toilet paper?” Also, women have spent a lot of time, while shopping, picking out just the correct blouse, jacket or skirt. They can’t have that enjoyment anymore. They have to pick out “Separates”. Just what are they separated from?

I’ll now change the subject in order to pick on, “Self-Centered Persons”. I always felt that these “persons” had what I called, “Love of Self” or an “exaggerated sense of their own importance”. I’m sure that you will think of several of your acquaintances who would fit within this description(will you stop thinking of me, please?). I have sat back within a group of people listening to their conversations. The general conversation is interrupted in the middle of a sentence by an SCP who hadn’t really been listening but was now ready to take over the conversation for the next fifteen minutes talking, not discussing, about this SCPs personal experience(which we had all heard more than one time before). One of their favorite themes seems to be something they are sure that no one else in the group had experienced before and they will explain from A to Z before quieting long enough for them to think of another theme and interrupt a sentence to bring up another subject which they think has to be much more interesting. I attend a group meeting once a month with people that are retired, like me. One person in that group, an engineer, always leads the conversation. We know everything that this man has ever done in his life, but, he knows very little about what any of the rest of us have accomplished. I like to brag a little too, but, I also like to listen to another’s view. That is how we all learn. This is called; conversation. Incidentally, when you are writing your memoirs, you can pretty well write what you want(Helen’s mother’s sister, Emma[Lang]Wallbaum, died, Feb. 3, 1959).

The Steinmetz Grocery Store is no more. After a hundred years, more or less, it had succumbed to the immense Grocery Chains who, through bulk purchasing and hence, lower prices, were forcing more and more Mom and Pop neighborhood stores out of business. Cousin Paul Steinmetz had taken over the store after Uncle John Steinmetz had retired. Paul put up a good fight with the help of some of his loyal customers. Near the end of his operations, Paul even hired me to make a door-to-door advertising jaunt all through the area to try to interest neighbors to return to buying at his store but that had no lasting affect. I have to admit that I had to finally start buying from the “Supermarkets” and leave Paul in the lurch, especially after we had moved beyond his delivery service out to Tyrone Drive. Yes, the Steinmetz Market had always made home deliveries and they were known as “Purveyors of Quality Food”. Catherine and Paul Steinmetz had always worked for Uncle John in the store and it was only natural that Paul would have eventually taken over control. Uncle John, in his late 70s, was still working part time as a meat cutter and now Paul moved on to working for other private grocery stores. Catherine was lucky enough to retire while still living at home with her parents.

Nancy had just turned 16 in March. I thought I would be overwhelmed with her desire to learn how to drive and get her license. Nibby and Rosie had bothered me for at least a year before their 16th birthday to let them begin driving lessons. The response from Nancy- nothing. For some reason, she had no special desire to learn to drive and it was several years later before she changed her mind and agreed to begin driving lessons. In the meantime, fifteen year old Frankie began bugging me to let him take over Nancy’s position as the next in line to begin driving our lone automobile.(Pop’s cousin Fred Gnadinger’s, from Paris, Ky., wife, Henrietta[Leboor] died on Mar. 12, 1959)(12-07-2002).

In the spring of this year I received some very bad news. Mary Catherine called to tell me that Mom was in the hospital. She was in real pain after having fallen at home. After a thorough examination, it was discovered that her hip had first broken and then she fell. It was explained to us that this was a common happening with older persons whose bones become brittle and can collapse and break just from the weight of their bodies. In this modern age, this condition is called osteoporosis and can be easily treated with bone-density medicine. Regular calcium intake is also helpful. None of this was well known in Mom’s case and she was just walking through the house when her hip bones broke and she fell to the floor. Also, we don’t know if she had a severe stroke which might have caused the fall, or, she fell and this action caused a stroke. In any event, Mom was now in a coma and was not aware of any happenings around her.

All of her seven children gathered around her. She had been taken to St. Anthony Hospital and was in a four-bed ward. St Anthony is no longer operating as a hospital. At that time it was located on St; Anthony Place, roughly between Barret Ave. and East Broadway St. and was quite famous for delivering more babies each year than any other hospital in the city. We all discussed how we could help Mom the most while she was in the hospital. Our decision was to have all of us, including the older grandchildren, take turns staying with her at night. This didn’t work out too well because of the demands of our work and the kids need to attend school. No one was available who could nurse Mom at night and then sleep during the day. This was soon taken out of our hands when the doctors informed us that there was nothing they could do for Mom in the hospital and that she should return to her home.

I don’t know about my brothers and sister, but, I had a definite guilt feeling when all of this happened. Mom was not aware of anything we were trying to accomplish for her comfort and it was frustrating knowing I could not explain why I couldn’t make her more comfortable or make her well again. With Stanley and the girls still living in the house and the rest of us taking turns visiting and nursing, there was generally someone with her all through the day and especially at night. A routine was finally setup whereby Mom was fed regularly, given baths and moved about in her bed to help prevent bed-sores. I can still see Mary Jane, Stanley’s ex-wife, Helen, Mary Catherine and I giving her a bath and changing the bed clothes. I found out then that I would have made a very poor nurse and I learned a new respect for the nursing trade. It was pitiful knowing that Mom wasn’t aware of us and our knowing that we were surely hurting her while moving her about(12-15-2002).

The great day for Rosie had finally arrived. She had graduated from Assumption High School with honors and we were proud that she had turned her life around. We had no graduation party for her because of the expense of their “Prom”. I’m not sure if she attended with Terry or BJ Ritchey. She had been dating with Terry Ritchey before she finally settled down with BJ(Benjamin Jarvis), his brother. Upon graduating, she was offered a scholarship by the Diocese and Father Pitt if she would agree to teach in the Catholic School System for a designated time period after receiving her degree. Rosie turned down this offer because she had no personal feel for teaching. I think she would have made a good one. Instead, she put in for and secured a job at the General Electric Co. plant on Buechel Bank Road in the Warehouse office. An old friend, Penny Cooper processed her employment papers and she worked in the same area as a Supervisor cousin, Leo Droppelman. She worked for GE until after she married and a pregnancy forced her to quit her job(12-20-2002).

Our golfing foursome was still intact. We were still playing once a week after work and rotating through the many public links in the city and county. The cost, I believe, was $4.00 for nine holes. We very seldom played more that nine because of the time we had to spare. The second best feeling after that of the golf game was the cold beer in the Club House just before we headed home for supper.

This was the last Summer for our Tube Turns Softball League. The company had decided to not sponsor the League anymore and we couldn’t talk all of the players to pitch up for the franchise fee. This loss was a shame because the Office Team I was part of finally put together a fine group of players and we succeeded in winning the league championship. I wasn’t much of a player but I could hit pretty well and usually got on base. My friend, Bob McCormick, was our pitcher.

After a rather long downturn, most businesses were becoming more successful and were beginning to hire new employees. Brother Carl was able to leave the helping hand as temporary carpenter for Wantland builders and now had a nice permanent job with American Synthetic Rubber Co. located on the Ohio River bank in the West end. Helen Hammond no longer worked for Ky. Home Mutual Ins. but had an office job with Brown-Foreman Distilleries.

There was very little change in my work in the Industrial Engineering office. The work was still very interesting and I was learning new approaches from the experience of my fellow workers and especially from my friends and fellow officials as I continued to attend the monthly meetings of our AIIE Society. As I mentioned previously, our AIIE Board of Directors was filled with a group of people from many local companies with many supervisory skills. I failed to mention before that one of this group was a young woman. This was not surprising, but, what set her apart from most women was the very fine and delicate pipe she smoked during our meetings. She was a very attractive young woman who enjoyed, pipe smoking. I had seen this habit in women before but never in such a young person.

My studies at the University of Louisville had not become any easier. After a full day at work and catching up all the odd jobs around the house, attending classes four nights a week could become quite a drag. I was still very determined to finish school and receive my degree. I found I could not study at home with the kids and their friends constantly in the house so I did most of my studying at the library at U of L and sometimes at work. I really felt for Helen during this period. She had to put up with me and the kids, with no relief.

Since Matt Marshall had died at Winchester, Helen and I(and some of the kids) were taking Aunt Terese to visit her sisters there quite often. This was a real pleasure because the “girls” were all good cooks and we could always expect a special breakfast and the best chicken dinner this side of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Helen and I did our share by keeping the house in good repair. Helen was good at painting and redid the house several times. I was the mechanical fixer and yard man. Katie said I was famous in Winchester because of my good work in trimming the scrubs. Katie and Aunt Terese appreciated anything you did for them and they were quick with their compliments. Their sister, Elizabeth Horine, was still working in Cincinnati, at that time, and Mary Horine had her own apartment in downtown Winchester across from where she worked at the Theater.

The kids had finally stopped going with us on camping trips completely so I stored the tent away until Nibby took it over several years later. Instead, Helen and I devised a new way to camp and travel. We now had a second hand station wagon after trading in the sedan. These old “wagons” were huge, the back seat folded down and there was enough room in the back of the wagon for an air mattress. Helen sewed together some curtains for privacy which we hung from clips attached above each window. We could remove the curtains easily while we were driving. We bought a large, waterproof, canvas, roof top carrier to store all of our supplies we needed while traveling. There was little room left inside the car for storage. Since there was just the two of us, we could leave the bed open in the back during our entire trip and, at night, this bed turned out to be comfortable as well. We still carried all of our cooking and other camping gear and we always camped in State Parks and private campgrounds. Only when the weather was difficult did we visit a restaurant. We crawled into our bed through the rear doors of the car. A tight squeeze but we could do it. Today, neither Helen nor I would even want to try that.

Our first trip using the new approach was a “dry run” visit to the Smokies in the fall of the year. The weather was dry as it usually is in the fall and we gained a lot of confidence in our new approach. One fact we soon discovered was the need to load everything back into the car top carrier every time we wanted to move our car. Some things we could leave out, such as the cook stove and camp chairs which showed other campers the spot was occupied. Most campers were courteous and even looked out for your possessions. You did not leave a picnic cooler in the open. The Bears would soon find it and break it open for the food inside.

Helen likes to repeat this story about our sleeping in the car. This happened on this trip to the Smokies. I always got up first, slipped into my shirt and trousers(we kept our shoes under the seat), crawled out the door and went around to the other side to help Helen into her housecoat and out the door. This particular morning, as soon as I got out, a couple camping next to us engaged me in conversation, asking questions about our novel method of camping. It must have been twenty minutes before I could get away from them and rescue Helen from the car. It was an emergency because our first action after getting out of the car was a visit to the rest room. Helen was one very unhappy camper. After this first trip we became confident that we could make this system work which we did by adding new equipment and eliminating some unnecessary things. Over the next several years we traveled all over the country camping, in the East and West, until we finally could afford to buy a small camping trailer(12-21-2002).

In November, my life changed completely. Bill Wantland called us at home to inform us that Mom had died overnight. I had been expecting this word for some time and should have been prepared. I wasn’t and the shock was tremendous. When Helen and I arrived at the house on Ellison, I must have looked terrible for Bill Wantland put his arm around my shoulders in sympathy. That was the first time he had done anything like that. None of us were very demonstrative in those early days. All of my brothers and sister were there and after the Coroner and the police had visited(since Mom had died at home), we all agreed the Bosse Funeral Home would handle everything. The old Mr. Bosse had been a good friend of the Von Bossum family and the Bosse Funeral Home had been the Director of choice with most of our close relatives. Mom had buried Pop in St. Michael’s Cemetery and the plot was prepared for her there. St. Michael’s had also become the burial choice of all of these older Gnadingers, Coopers, Steinmetzs, Determanns and Droppelmans.

We had now come to the end of a “Regime” if that is what we might call Mom and Pop’s control of our morals and our close-knit family. In these later years, Mom was the one who held us together, listened to our problems and gave what advice she could. All of a sudden, we Gnadinger’s were the head of our own family to be looked up to as we had looked up to our parents, aunts and uncles. As normal human beings and parents, we made many mistakes but we had many successes. As the result of a proper upbringing, I know of no one within the families of my siblings, Robert, Bernie, Carl, Stanley, Mary Catherine, Frank or Norb who was ever on drugs or had served time in jail. Most of these families also maintained a close tie with their religion of choice.

I guess the remainder of this statement might be considered an Eulogy on Mom with views on Pop thrown in. I remember so many good things about Mom, that the few faults she may have had are therefore overwhelmed by the good and best forgotten. I have no intention of discussing them now. She was very protective of her children. Some of us were not as strong as the others and she needed to extend her love more on them. Those old Germans, like Mom and Pop, did not easily show affection, but, I knew I was loved by the care I was given. I have mentioned that Mom always said that she had turned my care over to my Guardian Angel. As I was the seventh child, I could understand her need to do this. Reviewing some of the dumb things I did as a kid, I would have been dead long ago if I had not had this protection.

I truly appreciate the “good” genes which Mom and Pop passed on to me It wasn’t in their nature to push any of us to greater success in life or to achieve a higher goal with our education. Their creed was to accept us as we were as long as we were good people. Their passed on genes drove me and the others to further improve ourselves and our station in life. Nowadays they call these-good genes.

Mom and Pop gave so much of themselves to the Catholic Church even while they were raising their large family. Pop was always a “Trustee” at Church and I was proud to see him taking up the Sunday Collection at our “Children’s” Mass. Mom worked making quilts for the St. Joseph Orphans Home for years that were raffled off at their annual picnic. Also, she worked in the lunch room at St. Vincent’s School every week even after all of us kids had graduated. I recently talked to a woman at the annual “Germantown Neighborhood Reunion” who did not remember me but very definitely remembered Mom as a hard worker in the lunch room while she attended school there.

Two days after her death, we all gathered at the funeral home for one last goodbye. Her brother, Uncle George Determann and Uncle Harry Cooper had died years before. Mom’s two sisters, Aunt Denie(Bernadine) and Aunt Tillie(Matilda) were there as well as Uncle John Steinmetz and Aunt Clem(Clementine)Determan. Aunt Agnes Gnadinger was there. This was the extent of those remaining from Mom’s generation. It is interesting to note that Aunt Denie Steinmetz died exactly ten years later, to the day, on Nov. 22, 1969.

This becomes a fitting place to end Volume I of my Memoirs. You must have realized by now that this missive is concerned much more about life surrounding us than it is my about my personal life. I sincerely hope that it was a learning experience for you. A changed life will begin in 1960 as our children start becoming adults and leaving our “nest” to find their own way in the world. May they always remember that Helen and I did our best to furnish them with the proper mental approach in their new, independent, life. (12-31-2002).