Memoirs of Norbert E. Gnadinger, Sr. Volume 1



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1922


Isn’t science wonderful? With just the flip of a paragraph and the addition of four numbers, I am now one year old but I remember nothing. I refuse to talk except generally. I wonder if I remember the Christmas Tree lights. Babies are always fascinated with colored lights and our lights were something special. Each light was in the shape of a fruit, a clown, a person, a hat, a sled, an automobile, a snowman, etc. and they were painted in various colors. I wish I had them today for sentimental reasons, not for the fortune they would bring. I can’t imagine where I slept considering there were nine other people in the house who needed beds. Perhaps Frank and I were tucked in drawers of a dresser. That might work. I am sure that I got many, many baby presents after I was born and especially when I was baptized. People were not big on Baby Showers in those days like they are today. You weren’t required to give a present, it was voluntary. Wouldn’t it be great to go back to a more simple life?

As I mentioned earlier in this missive, Radio arrived in the area in 1922. WHAS Radio began broadcasting from a downtown building. WHAS was indeed the first radio station in Kentucky. Its’ daytime range was probably about twenty five to thirty miles and much farther at night. I mentioned the Crystal Radio Set with ear-phones and there were more sophisticated radios available. At about this same time, in July, the Courier-Journal Newspaper offered to their paper carriers a free (what appears to be a crystal set) Aeriola Jr. Radio Receiving Set (complete with Brandes double head set)(“head-set” meaning, ear phones) with a receiving radius of 25 miles. This was free, with 12 new 6 months’ subscriptions to the Daily and Sunday Courier-Journal. Wow! When I became old enough to have a paper route, I was offered deals like the radio giveaway. I can remember winning a live turkey at Christmas and another time I won a train trip to Mammoth Cave and a tour with a box lunch deep underground. That was something special. For those of us who are proud to call Louisville our home, I would like to state that in 1922, Louisville was the twenty-fourth largest city in the United States.

As you know, while I am waiting around to grow up enough to begin getting into trouble, I must talk about more general things. What more general thing is there than the Bicycle? The first bicycle I remember was a three wheeler. I may have been four or five years old and I wandered all over the neighborhood. I found this tricycle sitting on the sidewalk on Samuel Street near Kreiger. In my mind it was free, no one was using it, so I got on it and wheeled it home to 1027 Ellison Ave. I kept it in our side yard and rode it every day for about a week. Mom then asked me if I didn’t think it was time to return the tricycle to the little boy on Samuel St. who had been crying for his lost bike. I didn’t want to but I did take it back. This true story reinforces what I said before. We were raised by all the neighbors who helped keep us honest. Mom always knew what I was doing as long as I stayed close to home.

Everyone had their own favorite bicycle. In our family it was the “American Flyer”, a beautiful bike. It came complete with a chain-guard, a kick stand and just maybe, a speedometer which ran off the side of the front tire. Mine, in later years, was blue with white stripping. It had no front or tail light even though some did have. It was equipped with a security lock built into the pivot point holding the front wheel frame. When you locked it, the front wheel was set at ninety degrees to the rest of the frame. You could carry it away but you couldn’t ride it away. The bike was also furnished with the famous “Morrow Coaster Brake)(?)” To move the bike, you would pedal the sprocket in a clockwise direction. If you wanted to “coast”, you stopped pedaling. If you wanted to stop the bike, you brought the sprocket back into a counter-clockwise direction and pressed hard. The back wheel slowed down based on how hard you pushed on the pedal. The “coasting” part was nice going down hill. The whole mechanism was simple, inexpensive and you could repair it yourself. In your pocket, you carried a spoke-wrench which you needed when the wheels got out of alignment after hitting a chuck hole. You could even replace spokes using this little wrench. I still have mine with my souvenirs.

You could almost figure the size and age of the owner of any bicycle you would spot in someone’s yard of their home. Bicycle wheels came in 24in, 26in, and 28in and little guys like me started out with what we just called a 24 incher. All bicycle tires came with rubber tubes fitted with a valve stem used to insert air into the tube. Two pieces of equipment you had to have in your home was a tire repair kit and a hand pump. You really had to watch for nails and tacks as you rode along the street to avoid a flat tire. I can even remember seeing boys get a flat tire when the tread of the tire wore all the way through and the inner tube did the same. Our bicycle stores of choice in our area were the Louisville Cycle Co. downtown on Market St., and the Highland Cycle Shop on Bardstown Road in the highlands. For the confused at this point, I have to say that we had no hand-brake or gear-changers available at this time. You could buy a larger drive-sprocket and some more chain links to fit. This would give you slightly more speed. My brother Frank got a lot more speed from his bike than all of us. His bike had a motor on it. At one time he owned a second-hand “Indian” Motor Cycle. All the girls loved him and the boys were jealous. I believe someone in the family convinced him that he owned a dangerous toy and he sold it. I hope he made a profit on the sale. (8/28/2000)


1923

I feel a whole lot older. This year I will celebrate my second birthday. Did you notice how well I am walking now and I can say Mom and Pop and a few German curse words. Now that Frank has graduated to sitting at the table (no doubt in shifts) I have taken over the high-chair. Our high-chair was a beautiful thing as I remember it a few years later and I wish I had it now. I’m sure I was still being breast fed for that was the custom. I always liked milk and could never get enough of it. Later I got my fill by getting it in ice-cream. While I am on the subject of milk I must repeat that we only drank “raw” (unpasteurized) milk and we bought it from the farm of Mr. A.P. King whose farm was at the corner of Ellison and Spratt Sts. Even though we were in the city limits, there were a few small farms scattered about and everyone had a garden in the back yard.



There was an air of excitement going all through the house. I thought it was over me because I was such a cute baby. But, no such luck. It really concerned the new house being built down the street. Mom and Pop had bought this triangular building lot at the corner of Ellison and Reutlinger Sts. from Mr. Ellison, the realtor. They bought the entire lot which had room for two houses. The new house was luxurious. It had a nice front yard and a front porch as wide as the house. The back of the house faced directly on Reutlinger St. with no back yard. There was a full basement with enough room to park two cars, end to end, if you ever owned two. There was a coal bin facing the back with a coal chute through which you unloaded coal from the coal truck. In the middle of the basement was the utmost in luxuries at that time, a coal furnace. I’m sure Pop did tend the furnace, but my memory pictures only Mom doing this work. At the top of the furnace where the heat collected and led off through pipes to each of the rooms was a torus ring, shaped like an inner-tube. This torus had an opening and we kept the tube filled with water to add humidity to the air in the house. There was no electric blower attachment, for, as you know, heat rises and that is why the furnace in those days was always located in the basement or cellar. This furnace also had automatic controls (hand operated). The control was called a damper which controlled the amount of air passing over the burning coal. If you could feel but little heat coming out of the registers in each room, you would open the damper to allow more air into the furnace. You waited a few minutes to allow the coals to get red and hot then you went downstairs to throw a shovel of coal on the fire (if it had not gone out). If everything was alright, you went back upstairs, waited for the coals to take hold and then gradually closed the damper. But not all the way for it could choke off all the air to the coals and the fire would go out. It took a delicate touch which you acquired through experience. Every day you had to remove the ashes from the bottom of the furnace. There was a shaker attached to the cast iron grate which supported the burning coals. You used a tool to move the grates back and forth which allowed the ashes to drop down and thus open up passages to let the air get to the live coals. The ashes we put in a bucket and when full, we dumped in a hole in a vacant lot behind the house. In later years the ashes were put out for the garbage man. These ashes had another important use. They were used extensively for traction under automobile tires in icy weather and coal ashes (clinkers) were used in the suburbs as a base for driveways or even some roads. Now you want to know how the automatic controls worked, right? A small chain with both ends attached to the damper control which was on a pivot, led up through two holes in the floor, about four inches apart. The chain passed over a type of sprocket which gripped the chain. Attached to the sprocket was a thumb control. If you moved it clockwise, it would open the damper. If you moved it counter clockwise it would close it. You could stop it at any point to let in more or less air. You didn’t want to forget you had the damper open fully for you could burn up the furnace and most probably, the house (9/19/2000).
The furnace was a vast improvement over the coal stove or the fireplace which could only heat one room. One fault it did have was its’ lack of a built in air-conditioner. That will come later.

In the basement, behind the brick chimney base, was a natural gas fired, two burners, hot plate. Mom had this put in to use when she was canning fruits or vegetables or if she was making ketchup. To the front of the chimney was the cess pool (drain) and immediately in front of the drain was the furnace. At the front of the basement was the cellar, a wood structure where we stored canned goods and Pop’s home-brew. A real cellar was a dug-out under a house with no basement and had no walls except dirt. You entered it through a trap-door from the first floor. We called our wood structure a cellar because of common usage of the name.

The house had a front and side entrance beside the garage doors in the back. The front entry went up about eight steps to the porch and then inside to the front room (we didn’t call it the living room then). The front room extended all the way across the width of the house. Behind the front room was the dining room on the right and Mom and Pop’s bedroom on the left. Behind these two rooms was a hallway where we kept the telephone. To the left was the bathroom and to the right was the stairway to the upstairs and down to the side door and to the basement. At the back of the house was the kitchen which also extended across the width of the house. We needed a lot of room but we only had one bathroom. Mom had the latest natural gas cook stove with a built in oven. You used a “kitchen” match each time you needed to light a burner. Mom baked some mighty delicious pies and bread in that oven. Even though natural gas was available and had been for some time, gas furnaces were not popular in our neighborhood. I suspect people were afraid of the gas and they cost a lot more than coal furnaces

On to the second floor, there were three bedrooms all in a row, front to back. I’m sure that Aunt Rose and Mary Catherine slept together in one of them with Robert and Bernie in the other small bedroom. Carl, Stanley, Frank and I all slept together in the middle bedroom which was larger. If you looked out of the window of the back bedroom and down to the street, it seemed as though it were a hundred feet down to the ground through the eyes of a little one. Before all the trees in the highlands grew to magnificent heights, we could look out this same back window and see the steeple of St. James Church on Bardstown Road and enjoy the fireworks display on the 4th of July from Tyler Park on Baxter Ave. We went to Determann’s camp on the Ohio River at Transylvania Beech on the 4th of July for a family picnic every year and we always seemed to get home in time to see the Tyler Park fireworks.

I had always heard from Mom and “Tante” Rose that I was two years old when the family moved to the new house at 1027 Ellison Ave. I don’t remember anything but I’ll make up things which could have happened. Can’t you visualize everyone about half crazy worrying that I would fall down the side steps or off the front porch or even out a window? We didn’t have screens in the windows at that time. I don’t know who my baby-sitter was. I guess all of my brothers and sister at one time or another. I know that Aunt Rose spoiled me rotten for I was spoiled. People now say you are not spoiled but over-loved. I was spoiled. I guess because I was such a cute little kid (?) Because we didn’t have leak-proof diapers in those days and we had hardwood floors, can’t you see everyone keeping an eye on me so that I didn’t wet all over the floor. Babies could be a problem. Because most of my memories were of the kitchen, I suppose I was kept back there with Mom with the door closed. We had linoleum on the kitchen floor (urine proof).

The second exciting thing that occurred in 1923 at the same time the new house was built concerned my brother, Robert. Every mother at that time always had a secret desire to see one of her sons become a Priest or a daughter become a Nun. I’m sure that Robert, the eldest, was encouraged to attend a seminary as a candidate for the priesthood. He did do that for one year beginning in 1923. I have no idea why he discontinued his studies. Robert was enrolled at the St. Meinrad Archabbey Seminary about sixty five miles west of Louisville in Southern Indiana. Of course, it was just an Abbey then, not an Archabbey. Even though Robert only studied for the priesthood for one year, the experience made a big impression on him which showed in his religious relations for the rest of his life. I do know that he made frequent visits to the seminary over the years to keep in touch with the religious there. One of the young men studying with Robert who became a priest was his good friend, Rev. Albert Joseph Schmitt. My nephew Joe Gnadinger, Robert’s son, was named for Father Schmitt. The Rev. Schmitt’s sister, Cecilia Schmitt was organist and Choir Director at St. Vincent de Paul when I sang in the Church Choir there. Rev. Schmitt’s final assignment before his death was at St Aloysius Church in Pee Wee Valley, Ky. where Paul and Deanna Gnadinger, Robert’s Son and Daughter-in-law remain Parishioners. In those early years, I can barely remember visiting St. Meinrad with the family. I’m not sure if we were visiting with Robert or if I went with Robert at a later time. It made an impression on me for I do remember. One thing I can remember from later visits was the beautiful Monte Casino Shrine. St Meinrad is also very famous as a “Retreat” center.

Robert was sixteen years old at that time. When he returned home, naturally he had to get a job. Other than the usual odd jobs young people start out with, Robert’s first real job was as a clerk (teller) at the Liberty Insurance Bank(Liberty Bank) on Shelby Street. He worked here for two years for a Mr. Goss. He then worked for the Quaker Maid Grocery Chain as a Branch Manager for one year before he settled in with the Bensinger Outfitting Co.(furniture store) as a collector of accounts. He must have been successful at this position for he started thinking of marriage. I always thought that Robert was given the job by Mom to babysit his little brother-me. I recall several times being in the automobile along with Robert and his girl-friend Pauline Denham. Pauline, I believe, worked for the Telephone Company (?) and boarded near 3rd St. and Southern Pkwy.. There was a little park on that corner and the three of us visited it. Great fun for the couple. Pauline was from a small farm near Fountain Run in southern Kentucky. I remember again being in the car with them down by 4th and River Rd. Robert was trying to scare Pauline to death by driving down the wharf as though he was going into the River and then stopping just short of the water. I guess he made a good impression on Pauline in other ways for they were married on December 28, 1927. The only remembrance I have of the wedding is sitting in a pew and peeping out looking back and seeing this pretty girl in a white dress walking toward me. I was six years old.

I also remember Robert as being a very serious person and very German like. Also, he liked to travel like most of the family did. I think we got that feeling from Mom. Until Frank and I were born, I believe all the other children were given music lessons. It only seemed to work for Robert for he did play the violin in a dance band with a Mr Straub (?). Robert also liked to sing, in a falsetto voice, and sang in Church Choirs and the Holy Name Chorus (?). Mom also liked to sing and she played the piano somewhat and I believe Mary Catherine did the same (?). I was the most talented musician. There was no one who could approach my finesse with the “Player Piano” (?).

I must go back because, as I write, I continue to think of those times and new things come to mind. In the new house I recall two things which were very important to me at the time. One was our canary in a small cage. His or her name was always “Dickey Bird”. If one died, we would get another. I cried very hard when the “Dickey Bird” that I considered mine, died. With help from Frank and Mom, I put the dead bird in a match box and we took it out to the side yard next to Thomes and gave it a dignified burial. My other recall which fascinated me was the pedal-powered Singer Sewing Machine which Mom had at the time. The foot platform going up and down, the wheel turning and the sounds the machine developed made an impression on a young mind. You know what I’m going to say now. Everyone, in those days, owned some sort of sewing machine. All the women were talented and had to be to help the family survive. There was a seamstress in most neighborhoods but you employed her only for special items of clothing. (9/21/2000)



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