His grandfather was one of the foremost Black citizens and businessmen in Youngstown. He was an outstanding football player and his team’s captain. He became a prominent attorney, serving on both local and state commissions, and was name to the first group of trustees when Youngstown University became Youngstown State in 1967.
Clarence L. Robinson was born March 6, 1892 to Thomas B. and Addie Berry Robinson. Addie’s father was P. Ross Berry, the area’s leading brick contractor of his time, who built many Youngstown area buildings including the still-standing original Rayen School building. His father was the headwaiter at the Youngstown Club. Clarence played tackle for The Rayen School, never missing a minute of play in three years, and was named a team captain.
He started out as a clerk and later secretary for the William Tod Company after completing studies at McGrath Business College. He went on to work in 1917 as a stenographer for the Wilkoff Company. While there, he enrolled in the Youngstown College night law school, studying under Judge George H. Gessner, passing the bar in 1925. On the death of Leo Wilkoff in 1931, Robinson succeeded him as counsel and became a director of the company in 1937.
Community service marked his life from early on when he volunteered as a football coach at the Booker T. Washington Settlement, leading his team to a city championship. He served on the Parks and Recreation Commission for ten years in the 1940’s. He also worked with organizations pursuing racial equality including the Inter-racial Committee, served as director for race relations for the War Manpower Commission during World War II, and the Governor’s Committee on Civil Rights in 1957. He was a member of the Youngstown Metropolitan Housing Authority, beginning in 1959.
He played a leadership role in a number of legal organizations. He was president of the Roberts Deliberating Club, chairman of the legal redress committee of the NAACP, a trustee of Youngstown Civil Liberties Union, and a trustee and vice president of the Legal Aid Society. His distinguished leadership and Youngstown College roots made him an outstanding choice to serve as a trustee of the newly named Youngstown State University, appointed by Governor James Rhodes.
Robinson was a dedicated churchman. named as one of the most outstanding parishioners of St. Augustine’s Episcopal church, where he served as a lay reader, senior warden, and later, warden emeritus as a 57 year member. He was a vice president of the Youngstown Council of Churches and served on the committee on management for the old West Federal YMCA. In 1963, he received the first “Letterman in Christian Living” award from the national Laymen’s Movement for a Christian World.
Clarence L. Robinson passed away 50 years ago on October 27, 1973, at 81 years of age. In 1967, his community service was recognized when the new Clarence Robinson Center opened on the South Side. The building was eventually vacated in the early 2000’s and fell into disrepair and was demolished in 2016. During the same year the city dedicated a new Clarence Robinson Park, located in the 1700 block of Oak Hill Avenue at West Chalmers. It is fitting that this distinguished community member (and former volunteer coach and Parks and Recreation Commission member) be remembered in this way and it is to be hoped that the city and community will continue to honor his memory by caring well for the park for many years to come.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
“Oliver Phelps” from Milliken, Charles F. (1911). A History of Ontario County, New York and Its People Vol. 1. Lewis Historical Publishing Co. p. 15. Retrieved 2008-01-25., PD-US.
During the years I worked at McKelveys, I roamed downtown Youngstown on lunch breaks, learning the various street names that made up the grid of downtown Youngstown. One of those was Phelps Street, intersecting West Federal one block west of the square and running between Wood Street on the north aned Front Street on the south. In recent years, I’ve become more curious about the origin of street names, usually tied to an early Youngstown resident who lived along that street.
The puzzle is that there is no early Youngstown residents by the name of Phelps that I can locate. The early histories I’ve read do not help. All I could find is that in 1802, John Young executed a document describing the platting of the early town including the streets that then existed. I’ve not located it in an online search to see if it confirms my hunch.
I believe Phelps refers to Oliver Phelps, who helped organize the Connecticut Land Company, which purchased the Western Reserve lands from the state of Connecticut. He is the only Phelps I’ve found with any connection to the Youngstown area, and his role in the acquisition and sale of these lands might well have justified a street name. Whether this is so or not, his story is relevant to the story of Youngstown and an interesting one at that.
Phelps was born near Poquonock, Connecticut, on October 21, 1749. His father died when he was young. He started working in a local store at age 7. By 1770, he had his own store in Granville, Massachusetts. He briefly fought with the Continental Army but left in 1777 to become Massachusetts Superintendent of Purchases of Army Supplies. He also served in the state legislature. He became a successful businessman and went on to serve in the Massachusetts Senate in 1785 and the governor’s council in 1786.
In the growing movement of Americans west of the Appalachians, Phelps and others recognized an opportunity. At various points he acquired interests in lands in western New York from Massachusetts and also along the Mississippi River. He eventually moved to Suffield, Connecticut but also resided in Canandaigua, New York, in the heart of his New York lands, where he built a gristmill and established an academy. Land speculation was risky. Purchases usually required huge loans and the hope is that sales would cover the payments due on the mortgages. In 1790, depressed prices led to him selling his home in Suffield and his interest in the Hartford National Bank and Trust Co.
Phelps did not give up after these failures but played a lead role in the formation of the Connecticut Land Company in 1795, and in arranging $1.2 million in financing to acquire 3 million acres of Western Reserve land from Connecticut, surveys of which began in 1796, followed by land sales, one of which was in 1797 to John Young who acquired 15,560 acres from the Connecticut Land Company for $16,085.16.
Not all went so well. There was no central coordination of sales efforts, uncertainties about land titles and about government protection from Native peoples still occupying the land. By 1800, only about 1,000 had moved to the Western Reserve, leading to depressed prices, giveaways and finally bankruptcy. Significant growth would come only after the War of 1812. Phelps, who had borrowed heavily, faced debtors prison, even though he was a New York legislator between 1803 and 1805. About the same time that the Connecticut Land Company dissolved, declaring bankruptcy, Phelps died, in 1809, by some accounts, in debtors prison.
Oliver Phelps was an entrepreneurial risk taker. While his investment in the Western Reserve went badly, his efforts in forming the Connecticut Land Company helped clear the way for men like John Young to acquire land on the banks of the Mahoning River. The only other place I can find that was named after him was Phelps, New York, located in upstate New York. If, indeed, Phelps Street gets its name from him, that seems fitting.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
It was November 1923. Youngstown had just elected a mayor and five of seven councilmen who had been endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan (only Wards One and Two did not). Likewise, all four of the Klan endorsed school board members were elected. Many churches throughout the Valley embraced the “hundred percent American” rhetoric of the Klan that denigrated the eastern and southern Europeans as well as Blacks streaming into the Valley that would provide the manpower for Youngstown’s steel industry. On November 10, 1923, between 50,000 and 100,000 people gathered at a Klan Konclave at what was then known as “Dead Man’s Curve,” a meadow near the location of the Newport Theatre. It was a celebration of the election victories in Youngstown. A portion of the group paraded throughout the South Side singing songs like “Onward Christian Soldiers.” The following year, Niles also elected a Klan mayor who appointed a number of Klan members to law enforcement positions.
It wasn’t just happening in Youngstown. After the reign of terror of the Klan against Black citizens in the 1870’s it went underground for a period. It was refounded in 1915, a response to “Red Scare” fears during World War I and the surge of immigrants coming into the country from eastern and southern Europe, many of whom were Catholics. By the early 1920’s, it was a national movement, electing Klan candidates in many cities and infiltrating numerous Protestant churchs and this is what happened in Youngstown.
Two notable exceptions to the wave of Klan activity in the Valley were Reverend William H. Hudnut, Sr. pastor of First Presbyterian Church. Hudnut spent significant time among the Valley’s steel workers and he and his congregation stood against this movement. So did the Youngstown Vindicator, which cost the paper circulation. Remember, over half of Youngstown’s voters supported Klan candidates.
The rally in November of 1923 may have been the movement’s high water mark. A year later, after the Klan gained control of the Mayor’s office and police force, they planned a parade on November 1. A rival group of Italians and Irish, calling themselves the Knights of the Flaming Circle, were denied a permit, and rioted, intimidating the Klansmen. Also, the primary leader of Klan activity, “Colonel” Evan A. Watkins was found both to be a fraud, himself not being born in America, and a womanizer, resulting in him fleeing the Valley. Klan activity dwindled, leaving only a hard core of members.
The best documented study of the Klan in the Mahoning Valley was done by a former Youngstown State history professor, William D. Jenkins, is titled Steel Valley Klan, and reviewed on this blog. It is one of the darker stories in Youngstown’s history. I like to focus on what is good about Youngstown and this episode was not. I hope we’ve learned and changed although that doesn’t always seem to be the case. My wife is from a family that at one time wouldn’t have been considered “100 percent American.” People from the backgrounds that the Klan incited fear and hatred toward built Youngstown into a major steel-making and manufacturing center.
Sadly, those who would have us fear “them” are still with us. The “them” has changed but this episode from Youngstown history shows me what a tired and tawdry narrative this is. Those who were different helped make Youngstown great. Despite our suspicions and animosity toward those different from us, the “secret sauce” of this country’s greatness is that it takes all of us to make it work. Our experience in Youngstown during its greatest years taught us that.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
Cornersburg boundaries, From Youngstown Neighborhood Development Plan, “Cornersburg Neighborhood Action Plan”
I first heard of Cornersburg when I was young and my brother brought home this pizza that, up to that time, was the best pizza I had ever tasted, from Cornersburg Pizza. That was probably 60 years ago and it is quite gratifying to learn that Cornersburg Pizza is still in business in Cornersburg.
Only as I grew older and biked all over the Westside where I lived did I figure out the reason for the name. The center of Cornersburg is a corner where Canfield Road runs roughly east-west, Meridian Road comes in from the north and Tippecanoe from the south. Also, Lynhaven Rd intersects with Meridian just north of the intersection of the other roads. Cornersburg’s boundaries are roughly defined by Meridian Rd on the west, Kirk Road on the north, Bears Den on the east and the border of Youngstown on the south, just south of Sunnybrooke Drive. Some maps I’ve seen include neighborhoods west of Meridian and Tippecanoe, but these are out of Youngstown.
At one time, Youngstown was quite a ways from the little village of Cornersburg, as one description from the 1880’s attests: “A village of 250 population within a short distance of Youngstown.” Gradually Youngstown grew to its present southern borders between 1900 and 1920. The development of the southwest side of the city, considered part of the Westside, came later, especially after World War II as veterans, both laborers and GI-bill educated were buying homes. I have not found when Cornersburg was incorporated into the city, but I suspect it was around the time when it was being developed beyond the village center. It is the newest part of Youngstown, except for areas that have been re-developed. A new subdivision, Castle Court, was built in the 1990’s.
Neighborhood Scout‘s description of the demographics of the community reflects its history as well as explain some of the more popular businesses:
In the Cornersburg neighborhood, 28.1% of the working population is employed in manufacturing and laborer occupations. The second most important occupational group in this neighborhood is executive, management, and professional occupations, with 28.0% of the residents employed. Other residents here are employed in sales and service jobs, from major sales accounts, to working in fast food restaurants (26.7%), and 15.6% in clerical, assistant, and tech support occupations.
. . .
In the Cornersburg neighborhood in Youngstown, OH, residents most commonly identify their ethnicity or ancestry as Italian (30.3%). There are also a number of people of German ancestry (21.3%), and residents who report Irish roots (19.2%), and some of the residents are also of English ancestry (9.9%), along with some Slovak ancestry residents (6.9%), among others.
It is surprising the number of businesses that have been in Cornersburg for a long time. Perhaps the longest-lived is Komara Jewelers, a family run business that has been in the community for 75 years. As I mentioned, my memories of Cornersburg Pizza go back nearly that long. The Cornersburg Sparkle has been serving the grocery needs of the community for 30 years. Belleria Pizza has been there for probably 25 years. And while we are talking Italian, Cornersburg Italian Specialties offers a deli, party trays, and catering and has won several awards for their food. Davidson’s Family Restaurant is also a popular place (we know–we tried to go there on our last visit to town and couldn’t get in!). There are a variety of other businesses including several drug stores, a couple barber shops, convenience stores, Cornersburg True Value, Subway, KFC, Dunkin’ Donuts, and China Star restaurants, a car wash and several bank branches. For those living in the community, a number of conveniences are a walk or short drive away, a rarity these days in our larger cities.
No neighborhood is without its problems but the relative stability and number of businesses around the corners of Cornersburg suggest that it is still one of the better places to live in the Youngstown area. And writing about this has my mouth watering for a good slice of pizza or an Italian deli sandwich. How about you?
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
When I was growing up, this was how we decorated for Halloween. With mom and dad’s help, we got the knives out and tried to carve the scariest pumpkin we could imagine, after we had scraped out the insides–all those seeds you could roast in the oven and the flesh that was the stuff of pumpkin pies, or just went onto a newspaper to go into the garbage. Then you set a long-burning candle on the inside and tried to place it where it was both visible but not too easily grabbed and smashed by Halloween pranksters.
That was Halloween decorating for most of us. I think most of our parents were too busy with work or tired from it to spend time on elaborate decorating only to take it all down to put up Christmas decorations. The only elaborate Halloween displays I remember were those haunted houses where volunteers dressed up as ghosts, goblins, and witches to scare the bejeebers out of us (a great ploy to get our girlfriends to hug us!). Most of us just focused our creativity on our costumes–many of them homemade.
No longer. Walking in my neighborhood toward sunset last night, I was amazed at the elaborate displays some people had. Graveyard fences. Tombstones. Ghouls. Goblins. Skeletons–some appearing to come out of the ground. Ghosts and goblins in the trees. Cobwebs on the bushes (one house had two big eyeballs looking out from the bushes). Illuminated inflatables, some with arms waving around with the breeze. Orange lights strung over houses and trees.
Something happened between when I was a kid and my son was a kid. It was when he was old enough for us to take him out to trick or treat that we first noticed it. Really, at the time, when we lived in Maple Heights, near Cleveland, around 1990 or so, it was just one guy. But in the years since, it has spread–some houses just decorate modestly and others go all out.
Some speculate that it was all the horror films like “Halloween,” “Friday the 13th” and“A Nightmare on Elm Street.” What is clear is that it has become big business. A Retail Dive article from 2022 states that it has become a $10 billion business with all the big box stores devoting sections to selling decorations. We see empty storefronts turned into seasonal decoration stores and party stores and even garden centers have big sections for decorations.
What I wonder is whether the kids have any more fun than we did. After all, the big deal was the magical night where you could dress up as bums and pirates and ghosts and walk from house to house, knock on doors, demand treats, and people gave you candy. What could be more fun than that? At least, that’s how I remember it, growing up in working class Youngstown. How do you remember it?
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
Some of the TV Repair Shops in Youngstown in the late 1950’s to early 1960’s
The other night, I was hooking up our TV and video equipment in our living room after we had new floors installed and it struck me: “I wonder what ever happened to TV repairmen?” As I got to thinking about it, I never repaired a TV during all the years we’ve been married. When I was a kid in Youngstown, it was a different story.
We used to have a Magnavox black and white TV in an impressive wood cabinet during my early growing up years. We could get channels 21, 27, and 33, and when conditions were right, stations in Cleveland ands Pittsburgh. I watched Saturday morning cartoons and Barney Bean and Bonanza, Ed Sullivan, and the Wonderful World of Disney on that TV. When it worked, that is. There would be times when the picture would go all wonky, losing vertical or horizontal control. I remember mom fiddling with various knobs we weren’t allowed to touch. Sometimes it was the tuner, which she would flick back and forth to get a channel, or turn the outside ring to fine tune it. And sometimes all we got was snow.
That’s where the TV repairman came in. We usually had the repairman come to the home. He came with an impressive box of tools including a tube tester. It was often the case that our problems could be traced to a burned out tube. He’d replace it, clean the tuning dial, make sure everything was working, and hand mom the bill. It seems that this was a fairly common occurrence. In fact, some do it yourself-ers would unplug the TV, look for a darkened tube, take it to the local hardware and use the free tube tester to find out if that was the problem, and then buy a replacement tube, plug it in, and hope it worked.
This changed when transisters and integrated circuits replaced tubes. Unless lightning fried your circuit board (and usually blew out the picture tube) those TVs would work a long time. We had an RCA that was still working after 20+ years when our married son decided we needed to replace it with our flat screen Sharp. With the lower costs of electronics generally, if they do fail, they often are cheaper to replace than repair.
So what happened to all the TV repairmen and repair shops? I suspect many shops went out of business. Technicians who understood electronics adapted to the changing market. They started repairing computers and other electronic equipment. There has been a resurgence in interest in vintage electronics–those old Pioneer and Marantz receivers and vintage turntables to play vinyl old and new (remember CDs?).
This is evident in the one business from the ads above that has survived in the Youngstown area. Doc’s Radio & TV began in the early years of the TV era in 1951. Formerly located at 3726 Market Street, they have moved south to 6607 Market Street. They still service all brands of TVs including LED, LCD, Plasma, Projection and direct view models. They also service a variety of computers, video equipment, professional and home audio, and even automobile key fobs. They emphasize that their specialty is vintage home audio repair. They offer both in home and carry in service–carrying on a tradition from the early days of the business.
When we were growing up, we repaired rather than recycled as long as possible. Often, there weren’t good recycling options. It’s actually an interesting thought that we might consider repairing rather than replacing our electronics. I have a turntable that is over forty years old. I’ve learned to lubricate it, to change belts and found a vendor selling styli for my vintage cartridge. I love it and it still sounds great! Maybe its time to imitate our parents and call the repair man or woman and at least see if it is worth repairing our electronics.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
In the fall, one of Chaney’s early season rivals was Austintown Fitch. Many of us living on Youngstown’s Westside had friends in Austintown and the rivalry was always a big deal. I’ll save the rivalry for another time. Today I write about how Fitch got its name.
John H. Fitch was born on his family’s farm near the center of Austintown in 1843. Eventually he had a farm encompassing over 400 acres with livestock, horses and chickens, near He started working in a grocery store at age 15 and by 22 was part owner with Levi Crum of a successful general store. By 1885, they expanded the store into Youngstown.
In 1901, the John H. Fitch Company was incorporated and in 1902, they bought out a firm selling coffee and tea, resulting in a very successful business, the John H. Fitch Coffee Company, selling nationwide out of a warehouse on Watt Street.
Children in Austintown were educated at small, one-room school houses scattered around the township. Those who went to high school went to nearby schools like Mineral Ridge. By 1915, there were at least eight such one-room schoolhouses around the township. In 1915 John Fitch donated eight acres of his farmland along Mahoning Avenue for the building of a new school to serve the township. In 1916 the Austintown Centralized School opened on that site in the building many of us went past (or even went to school in) in our younger years. In 1922, the school added grades 10-12. The building later served as the district high school until the move to its new building in 1968.
Austintown Central School, shortly after opening.
John H. Fitch also donated the land for the YMCA that bears his name, Camp Fitch. The original camp was on Little Beaver Creek south of Lisbon. After his death, the family donated the money to purchase the 93 acre site where Camp Fitch is currently located on Lake Erie.
John H. Fitch died in 1919. Frank Ohl, Fitch’s farm manager and active in school and township affairs led a petition drive to name the school after Fitch and in 1924, the school was renamed Austintown Fitch School, the name remaining as the name of the high school after elementary and middle schools were built.
And that is where the name “Fitch” came from, and the school that became Chaney’s football rival.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
We’ve been in the process of preparing for a remodeling project on the upper floor of our home–replacing our carpet with a wood floor. We are excited about the change but a bit overwhelmed in cleaning out closets and cupboards and shelves–the accumulations of over thirty years in a place.
For me, it also brought back memories of cleaning out my parent’s home–my childhood home–when they moved into a retirement facility back in 2005. It was a home my parents had lovingly looked after for over 60 years. My mom actually signed the papers a year after they were married, while my dad was away in the army during World War II.
The tree on the far left of the picture is a maple we bought and planted in our tree lawn for my mother on Mothers’ Day one year–now grown to the place where it had to be trimmed to avoid overhead powerlines. We all invested in caring for that place.
From the front sidewalk, you could walk to our front porch, up four steps to our front porch. We probably spent thousands of summer evenings cooling off on that porch. We used to have big green awnings to shade the porch from the afternoon sun, a big metal swing and metal porch chairs that still hang in my garage. I remember listening to Herb Score offer play-by-play accounts of Indians games on summer evenings.
The front door, with an aluminum screen door with a “T” in the middle opened into our living room. Just to the right was my mom’s yellow wing chair, now sitting in my family room. She would sit there doing crosswords or reading a book of the month book. We had a matching sofa and chair that was dull magenta to dull pink in color. At the far end of the room were bookshelves that were a treasure trove to this bookish kid. The chair was next to it and next to it our TV. We moved the chair at Christmas to make room for the tree, always decorated by my father–a work of art.
Our dining room was to the left of the front entrance. Eventuallly we had a dining room set from my grandparents, now owned by my son and daughter-in-law. My favorite spot, though was the Magnavox radio that had a short wave receiver. Sometimes, you could hear BBC broadcasts from London. Later on, my favorite spot moved to the other side of the room, where I would sprawl on the floor while talking on the phone to girls I was interested in.
Our kitchen was entered through the other doorway in our dining room, which was by the phone. I still remember meals watching my sister push vegetables around the plate or picking green peppers off pizza, trying to slip them to the dog if she could! For years we had an old GE refigerator that mom had to defrost every month or so, melting big chunks of ice off the freezer part of the fridge. We always had dogs and the dog’s water and food dish was at the base of the stove. We had no dishwasher. Mom usually washed and rinsed the dishes in the single sink and then put them on the drainer for me to dry and put away. Blocked by the table was a door to an above-ground back porch that was kind of a forbidden kingdom–we never went out there–perhaps because it was about 8-10 feet above ground.
Behind where my dad always sat, were steps down to the basement. At the bottom of the steps, my dad had a desk and some shelves. Later on, we inherited a pool table from my sister when she moved out west and it was a favorite place for my dad and son to spend time together playing pool. At the center of the basement was our furnace, an old Janitrol that lasted forever–as long as the house. On the other side was a water heater. But my favorite spot was my dad’s workbench with his tools and baby food jars with all kinds of screws and nails (which we had to dispose of years later!). But it was the place where I’d make rubber band guns and fix my bike. To the left of the workbench was all my dad’s fishing gear. Next to the work bench area to the left was our old coal cellar, which was used for that purpose before we got a gas furnace. It was basically storage for summer furniture and Christmas decorations. The laundry tubs and washing machine were on the far side of the basement–no dryer. My mom had lines strung back and forth in the basement, so on laundry days, you had to dodge the wash. There was a back door that exited onto our back yard. Since the house was built on an incline, it was ground level.
Back up the steps, through the kitchen, dining room, and living room, up one step to our closet (a step my mom slipped on and broke her ankle when my sister was young, and I tripped on, banging into the wall leaving a dent in the plaster until we repaired it). Then you turned left and took the steps upstairs. The bathroom was at the top of the steps (the bathroom for a family of five–I don’t know how we managed–but there was no lingering in the bathroom!). We had an old clawfoot tub that would probably be worth a fortune today where we took our Saturday night baths (and always had to make sure we scrubbed out to not leave a ring!).
At the top of the steps, the two front bedrooms were on the left. The front bedroom to the right was my parents’, and first me, and then my sister, slept there when young. The front bedroom on the left was my brother’s, until he got married, when it became my room. I spent my teen years there, listening to my stereo and seeing how loud I could play it before my parents said, “turn that thing down!” I had a dresser and chest of drawers that are now in my son’s house. There was also a back bedroom, which was my bedroom until my brother married and then my sister’s. I remember building things with my Erector set and experimenting with a little kit on learning about electricity. I remember getting more ambitious and, at one point, blowing every fuse in the house–yes, that was back in the day of fuses. I also remember loving to look out my back window. Looking straight east, I could see the Home Savings building, and then off to the left, the glow of the mills.
The hallway was also a favorite hangout. We had a set of bookshelves with two beer steins on top. In the shelves was a set of Colliers’ encyclopedias with annual yearbooks that I used for many school assignments. Sometimes it was just fun to pull out a volume and page through until I found an interesting article. The encyclopedias are long gone, and out of date, but the bookshelves are behind me, just to my left, as I write.
As we cleaned out the house, there were memories in every room, even as we are coming across memories of past years in our current cleanout project. We had memories in my parents’ house of holiday parties, birthdays and anniversaries and graduations, meeting girlfriends and boyfriends, eventually sons- and daughters-in law. There were warm memories of prayers and talks before bed. And some fights as well. No family is without them. But so many of the memories were just of every day life–nothing special at the time but ultimately, the most special, because all of them woven together represented home.
It was sad to see what happened in the years that followed my parents moving away. From what I can tell, the house was only lived in for a short while. The bushes were not being trimmed (even when my mom’s vision had diminished, she could spot where I had missed trimming even a single stem!). Then the house was vacant. Scrappers stripped off lower courses of siding and who knows what else. And somewhere around 2015 or so, the house was razed by the city, like so many others. Too many homes and not enough jobs or people.
Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel title You Can’t Go Home Again. That is literally true for me. What made me sad when I saw the empty lot that was formerly my home was not the loss of memories. I carry them with me, along with physical objects from that home. That yellow chair of my mother’s? I can still smell her perfume in that chair! That house will be part of my memories as long as I have memories. That sadness was not the loss of memories, but that there were not others who would lovingly care for that place as we did, especially as my parents did through most of their nearly 69 years of marriage. But the memories remain.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
Civil War hero, lawyer, and one who both made and wrote Youngstown history. In a nutshell, that’s General Thomas W. Sanderson, and yet most of us have never heard of him. As far as I know, no Youngstown streets or buildings are named after him (there is a Sanderson Avenue in Campbell, once East Youngstown) and yet Youngstown wouldn’t have been the county seat of Mahoning County without him.
Thomas W. Sanderson was born in Indiana, Pennsylvania on October 17, 1829. His father, from Scotland, was a farmer. His mother’s family came from Wakefield, England, the setting of Oliver Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield. The family moved to Youngstown in 1834, where they continued to farm. Sanderson was educated in Youngstown’s schools, attended college in Bardstown, Kentucky, and then read law in the office of William Ferguson and was admitted to the bar in a district court in Canfield, then the county seat, in 1852. After a brief stint as a civil engineer, he formed a law partnership with his brother in law, F.E. Hutchins, Hutchins and Sanderson.
Civic leadership followed quickly. Appointed county prosecuting attorney in 1856, he had to delay beginning this work to serve out an unfinished term as Mayor of Youngstown. However, the Civil War interrupted his legal career after one term as prosecuting attorney.
Sanderson entered the Army as a second lieutenant of the Second Ohio cavalry. By war’s end, he was a Brigadier General, having fought at Stone River, Lookout Mountain, Chickamauga, marching with General Sherman on Atlanta and to the sea. One example of his gallantry and leadership was an engagement south of Atlanta at Bear Creek where, leading one brigade, he held off three divisions of General Wheeler, achieving victory.
On return to Youngstown, he served four terms as solicitor beginning in 1868. During this time, the fight took place to move the county seat from Canfield to Youngstown. It turned on the constitutionality of a law passed in 1874 in the state legislature, and whether a previous law in 1846 could make Canfield the “permanent” county seat. The case finally ended up in 1879 in the United States Supreme Court where Sanderson faced future president James A. Garfield, arguing for Canfield. Sanderson won and thus Youngstown’s standing as county seat was confirmed.
In his time, he was considered the best trial lawyer in the state of Ohio. He represented Chauncey Andrews in the Hocking County railroad case, where he won a judgment of $15 million, the largest settlement won in Ohio up to that time. He also took up smaller cases. In one, in 1872, he represented Herman Brandmiller, a brewer, charged with selling a young man a drink, violating “dry” laws enacted in that period. He succeeded in proving that the ordinance had never properly been recorded, making it invalid, leading to acquital of Brandmiller.
The one grief in an otherwise successful life struck in his family. He married Elizabeth Shoemaker of New Castle on December 19, 1854. They had two children, a son who died in infancy and a daughter, Louise, a highly educated and accomplished young woman. Sadly, she died June 21, 1901, predeceasing her parents, a difficult blow for them.
Sanderson had always been a writer and in his last years, he wrote the 20th Century History of Youngstown and Mahoning County, Ohio and Representative Citizens, published in 1907. The work offers a history of the city and county and brief biographies of leading citizens of the area up to that time. I’ve used it as a source for many articles and it may be accessed at the Internet Archive. This was the first such history, preceding that of Joseph Butler.
General Thomas W. Sanderson appeared in court up to the last year of his life. He was in declining health over the previous year and passed on Sunday, January 26, 1908. He was buried on January 29, 1908 after lying in state at First Christian Church with funeral services at 1 pm that day. The Tod post provided his final escort to his burial site at Oak Hill Cemetery, where he was buried with full military honors.
A number of Youngstown leaders have living family who carry their memory to this day. This was not the case for General Sanderson. Yet his name is among the “greats” in our city, serving with distinction in the Civil War, offering leadership and capable advocacy to effect the move of Mahoning County’s county seat to Youngstown, serving clients great and small as a trial lawyer, and writing the first local history of the area. If you take a tour of Oak Hill Cemetery, be sure to visit his tomb. He is worthy of memory.
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
One of our favorite hangouts in high school and college days in the early ’70s was The Flats in Mill Creek Park, seen in the distance of this picture, on the east side of Mill Creek through the trees. Valley Drive alongside The Flats was lined with cars, some of which were being waxed by their owners. You could see couples on blankets making out, a group gathered around a guitar player, guys and girls in cutoffs running around, throwing a frisbee, people smoking, whether cigarettes or something less legal. All of us enjoyed this open meadow just east of the Silver Bridge. A sunny, clear autumn day and you could barely get to the place.
I never knew it by any other name than “The Flats” but at one time, the area was known as Hiawatha Flats. John Melnick, MD, in The Green Cathedral, suggests that the name comes from a production of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “Hiawatha” by a group of Iroquois Indians in 1916, or possibly as early as 1912 or 1913 when a group was encamped there. Mill Creek was temporarily dammed to allow Hiawatha to float down the river on a canoe.
At various times, the area was know as the “Cricket Field” (yes, they apparently played cricket in Youngstown at one time!) or Orchard Meadows. It was a favorite picnic area and included a number of picnic tables and grills.
In the early days, Volney Rogers used the area as a deer park reserve, with a wooden building erected as a deer shelter. It was rare we ever saw deer there or anywhere else during the years I was growing up. I know deer in the park is a point of controversy with groups that want to save the deer and others to remove them. I’m not a local so I won’t even touch this one!
Back in 1976, parking was limited to pull in spaces in two areas. Today, park maps show a picnic area and “comfort station” in the area with part of the east Mill Creek gorge trail running through it. But it has no name on park maps that I can see. I’d love to know how it is being used these days. But “back then” it was the place to hang out on a sunny, spring, summer, or fall afternoon. Little did we know of the long history nor the other names by which this place was known. To us, it was always “The Flats.”
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
