Imagine going to the grocery store in Elmwood in the 1940s or 1950s and finding the door locked – even at noon on Saturday, with no sign in the window: “Closed,” “Be Back in a Minute,” or “On Vacation.” Actually, the owner, Frank Schulz, was on vacation with his buddy Ralph Kilpatrick, the local accountant, … Continue reading Frank Schulz: On How Not to Succeed in Business
Biographical
An Extended Obituary: Karl K. Taylor, PhD 12/2/1938 – 9/5/2024
A note from the family: We wish Dad, who was a writer, had pre-written his own obituary. Since he did not, we worked together to summarize the highlights of his amazing journey. He was the best father and we know we will see him again in the Kingdom to come. – David, Andrea & Amy … Continue reading An Extended Obituary: Karl K. Taylor, PhD 12/2/1938 – 9/5/2024
Clifford Bateman: PFFP
Cliff and I were waiting for the rain to stop so our airplane could take off. I hadn’t seen him for several years, but he hadn’t changed much. At 40 or so, he still had no gray hair, no wrinkles. He still looked like the wholesome boy next door. A little shorter than six feet, … Continue reading Clifford Bateman: PFFP
Chapter Two Elmwood, Illinois — July 4, 1900 Independence Day Celebration
Since he played the clarinet in the American Band, Nelson Dean Jay, seventeen years old, took his place to the right of the conductor, sitting on a wooden folding chair beside Frank Shively, a skilled carpenter on his right, and Earl Runyon, a butcher on his left. Joking with his friends, Jay placed the music on his stand and opened his instrument case.
Saturday Night in a Small Country Town
Although the band didn’t begin playing until 7:30 pm, cars began arriving by the middle of the afternoon.
Taylor Johnson: Budding Catcher, Would-Be Writer
He looks the part, the way you would expect: short, a little stocky, bright red cheeks, a butch hair cut, and brown hair. What really draws attention to him are those bright red socks, up to his knees, matching his cheeks. Cool or hot, though, Taylor’s forehead is covered with perspiration. Everybody sweats, but he sweats more than most folks, maybe because he just tries a little harder than most kids, maybe because he has juvenile diabetes.
David H. Morton: When the Seats Were Empty
It took Dad less than five minutes to reach the physician’s waiting room which, as I recall, was so busy every seat was taken with people waiting to see the doctor even on a Sunday afternoon.
Trying to Find Don Gronewold
If you’re looking for Gronewold today, he’s not at home, talking on the phone, or politicking. He’s hunched over a cup of coffee in the café overlooking the BP gasoline station, watching traffic leaving town.
Mickey McGuire: A Small Town Cobbler
Mickey was a hard worker, but he never worked hard. He paced himself carefully, to the extent possible, so that work was never really work.
A Small Town Grocer
We are at an exciting time for Dad's blog. With just 50 new visitors he will surpass 2,000 unique readers! We have a new story coming very soon, but since this story about the small town grocer was posted in the blog's infancy, we are hoping more folks will take a minute to read it … Continue reading A Small Town Grocer
Stories From Small Town Illinois 