Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Penny Candy Stores

Robert C Trube © 2024.

Remember Bazooka Bobble Gum, with a comic inside the wrapper for each piece? How about Tootsie Pops, with that chocolate center? There were those Red Hots, those big red balls that grew hotter as you sucked them. We loved licorice twists, Milky Ways, Hershey bars, Tootsie Rolls…and maybe Necco wafers. And remember Milk Duds! Of course at this time of the year, there were jelly beans, chocolate eggs, and bunnies. No wonder I had so many cavities as a kid!

Some of these candies are still around fifty years later. And some enterprises are bringing them back–probably for the boomers who loved them as a kid. The picture above was taken at the counter of a local family restaurant.

Many of us bought at least some of our candy at local mom and pop stores, often tucked into our neighborhoods. My wife and her friends would stop at Curry’s Pharmacy. We’d go to Mrs. Borey’s on Oakwood, just up the hill from Washington. Many of us walked past, and some like me, detoured. I can’t recall that Mrs. Borey sold anything other than candy, and maybe popsicles and ice cream bars, It was literally a store front in a residential home, where I presume someone lived. I recall hearing that the apartments next to Washington School had a store on the first floor at one time.

Further up Oakwood, across from Borts Field was Zitello’s. It was on my way home from West Junior High, so I would sometimes stop for chips, or maybe a Slim Jim. But they really did business during baseball games in the summer. Between innings, we’d run across the street and get a pop and your favorite snack.

If I was hanging out with friends during the summer, we’d often run down to “Pop’s” on Mahoning Avenue near Lakeview for our bubblegum and Red Hots or a candy bar. “Pop’s” was actually a grocery, so sometimes, particularly before Sparkle opened up the street, we’d be there to pick up some bread or something else mom needed–and get a snack on the side with the change.

This was a part of a culture of local businesses within walking distance for many of us. This is something I don’t know much about beyond my own part of the West side, and perhaps part of our vanishing local history. I’d love to hear if there were penny candy stores you used to go to at which you got your candy “fix” as a kid? Where were these stores and what happened to them?

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Shoe Repair

My wife and I were driving past a familiar plaza and we noticed that the shoe repair shop was no longer there. This set us wondering how shoe shops make it these days, and we recalled memories of the shoe repair shop I went to as a child.

Growing up, it seems we wore more traditional shoes with leather soles and uppers. I remember our Saturday afternoon ritual of polishing our shoes for church on Sunday. We had a can of Kiwi bootpolish, an old rag we used to apply the polish, and a soft rag to buff it off. I loved how the polish would cover all but the worst of scuffs and make the shoes shine! Of course, then I had to scrub the polish off my hands. And you had to make sure the lid was tight on the polish can or the polish would be all cracked and dry the next time you polished your shoes.

Like all things, those shoes wore out. The heels would wear down on one side. The soles would wear thin or even get a hole in them–no fun in the rain. Women would have the heel on high heels fall off. If you hadn’t grown out of the shoe and the uppers were still good, you took them to a shoe repair shop to get more life out of the shoe and stretch that working class budget.

We used to take our shoes to an old cobbler who had a shop on Steel Street, just north of Mahoning Avenue. The shop was old with all the machines (like the one above) and tools behind the counter. It smelled of shoe leather and polish. There wasn’t much light, maybe one hanging bulb. On shelves on the sides, you saw all kinds of shoes with claim tickets attached. I don’t remember the gentleman’s name and he seemed a man of few words. You gave him the shoes. He usually could see what needed to be done. He told you what it would cost, when they would be ready and filled out the claim ticket. and you were out the door. A few days later, you’d go back and have shoes almost as good as new. Sometimes, you’d get new soles and heels several times, if the shoe was well-made.

It’s been ages since I’ve had shoes repaired. Most of the time, it seems we just discard casual shoes when they wear out. I have a pair of dress shoes I rarely wear, probably 15 years old that I’ve never re-soled. I suspect this is true of many of us. It strikes me as I write that the old way of repairing shoes was often more thrifty and more earth-friendly, even though we didn’t talk about re-using and recycling in those days.

I’d love to hear your memories of going to shoe repair shops in Youngstown!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Franz Bibo

Franz Bibo, “Youngstown Symphony Orchestra Celebrating 90 Years,” special insert to The Vindicator, September 11, 2016.

I remember two conductors of the Youngstown Symphony Orchestra. One was John Krueger, the conductor who led the children’s concerts we attended as elementary school children at Stambaugh Auditorium (it was actually called the Youngstown Philharmonic in those days). The other was Franz Bibo, who led the orchestra from 1965 to 1980. I had classical musician friends during college and went to a number of symphony performances during this time. Student seats were cheap! Franz Bibo conducted most of these including an amazing performance of the Nutcracker What I had not realized was what an accomplished musician he was and what a pivotal role he played in the Youngstown Symphony’s history and Youngstown’s cultural life.

Mr. Bibo was born in Germany in 1922. He came to the United States in 1946, becoming an American citizen. [Several readers  of this article who knew Bibo gave eyewitness accounts of Bibo showing them the serial numbers tattooed on his arm that marked him as an Auschwitz survivor.] He studied at the Mannes Music School in New York City, at New York University, and the Juilliard School. By 1948, he was on the music faculty of Brooklyn College. He was also the assistant conductor of the City Symphony Orchestra of New York, an orchestra of mostly amateur musicians founded by Leopold Prince, a New York City judge. When Prince died in 1951, Bibo took over as conductor and led the orchestra for ten years. In 1955, he was one of three conductors chosen to share a Rockefeller study grant of $49,500, a major sum at this time and a distinct honor.

In 1961, Bibo moved to Ohio, joining the faculty of the Oberlin Conservatory of Music as conductor of the Oberlin Orchestra, Chamber Orchestra, and Opera. Oberlin is a highly recognized school to this day and Bibo had the opportunity to work with talented musicians. Musical organizations establish their reputation in part by touring. A story in the March 15, 1964 Vindicator announced that Bibo and the orchestra would be performing at Stambaugh Auditorium as part of a tour performing concerts in Hartford, Boston, Philadelphia, New York, Washington, Youngstown, Buffalo, and Cleveland. The article notes that it was believed that this was the first undergraduate student orchestra tour of its kind. The New York Times reviewer for their New York appearance, performing the same program, noted their “lovely natural phrasing and tone that kept beautifying the performances all evening.”

In retrospect, this may have served as an early audition for the position as conductor of the Youngstown Symphony. In 1965, John Krueger, battling colon cancer, stepped down. Bibo was selected to be the new conductor. For the first time “Maestro” was used to refer to him. One of his contributions was to stage locally produced operas. He and his wife Jacqueline, a concert pianist and musical director for a number of groups, moved to Youngstown and embraced the city.

It was during his tenure that the Youngstown Symphony, through a gift of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Powers, saved the old Warner Theatre from demolition and restored it to its glory. Bibo played an active role in the restoration work as you can see from this picture:

The Vindicator, March 4, 1969.

The new facility opened September 20, 1969 with a gala performance of “Die Fledermaus” conducted by Maestro Bibo.

Bibo led the orchestra for twelve seasons. He hired musicians from outside Youngstown, raising the standards of the orchestra. He was succeeded by Peter Leonard in 1980. Franz Bibo passed away some time in 1986. Jacqueline continued to live in the Youngstown area and was actively involved in development work for Channels 45/49 and the Warren General Health Foundation as well as supporting other arts and community organizations including Opera Western Reserve. She lived until March 7, 2018 and was remembered in the Opera Western Reserve program for Puccini’s Madame Butterfly in November of that year.

Maestro Bibo brought all the training and artistic sophistication of New York and Oberlin to the city of Youngstown, introducing many to opera for the first time. He will always be remembered for leading the symphony in its move to and gala opening at Powers Auditorium and the belief that Youngstown could be a city known for great music and operatic performances. And his wife, Jacqueline, a great musician in her own right, carried forward that legacy. Bravissimo!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Meatless Fridays

Fish dinner from last night. © Robert C. Trube, 2024.

We went to the fish fry at the nearby Catholic parish for us in Columbus. Typical of life in Columbus, we were talking with the couple in front of us and happened to mention being from Youngstown, and we hear a voice asking, “who’s from Youngstown?” Turns out he was Ursuline ’65 and when I mentioned Chaney, he knew we had great football teams during that time and immediately knew the name “Red” Angelo. This happens all the time.

Back to the fish fry. Though I did not grow up Catholic, so many of the people in our neighborhood did. Fridays during Lent were meatless for all of us. If there was fish on Fridays, I think many had it at home. What I recall was churches selling pierogi (pirohy) dinners, many for takeout on Fridays. My mother-in law used to be enlisted by the ladies in her church, who made pierogies all day. She would brag about hers not being rubbery.

I can’t recall many churches in that era having fish fries. I’d love to know from Youngstown readers if you knew of churches or church halls who had fish fries back when we were growing up. Our memory is more of pieogies, perhaps with haluski and boiled or sweet cabbage. We were talking with people at our table who literally did a circuit to different fish fries each Friday, comparing notes on which they thought best. I don’t recall anything like that in Youngstown.

Looking through old Vindicators from the 1974. I spotted ads for restaurants offering Friday fish specials, many under $2. For a real cheap dinner, you could get fish and chips from Arthur Treacher’s and Mr. Steak for $1.25. Morgan’s had filet of fish (all you could eat), fries, bread, and cole slaw for $1.49. The Cocoanut Grove’s fish fry included mac ‘n cheese as well as fish, cole slaw and fries for $1.25. Of course, the Boulevard Tavern was legendary for their fish fries.

For those still living in the Youngstown area, Mahoning Matters publishes a list of fish fries. Going rate these days is around $15, ten times what it cost 50 years ago. A Google search also turned up a number of parishes still selling pierogies (pirohy) as well.

I’d love to hear what you ate on meatless Fridays. Did mom make it, or did you get it from a church or restaurant? And do you still observe meatless Fridays and what do you like to eat these days? Meatless Fridays were the deal in my neighborhood–even at the school cafeteria. It was part of growing up in working class Youngstown.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Shrine of Our Lady Comforter of the Afflicted

Shrine of Our Lady Comforter of the Afflicted from S. Belle Vista looking north.  © Robert C. Trube, 2019.

When I was young, I remembered the Franciscan Friary being built and opened on South Belle Vista. I walked or rode past there many times on my way to the James L. Wick Recreation Area (“Rocky Ridge”). Later, I walked past there daily on my way to and from Chaney High School. Once, I stopped by and walked through the Stations of the Cross. But, like many, I had little idea of the story of this place that reaches back over 400 years to the Transylvania region of present day Romania.

For much of its history, Transylvania was part of eastern Hungary and contains a Hungarian population. One of the most famous religious sites for these people was the Madonna of Csiksomlyo. Her sanctuary was served by generations of Franciscan Friars since the 16th century and she was seen as the Protectress of the Hungarian people in the region. The statue survived an attack by Tartars in 1661 when the church was burned down.

Sadly, Transylvania came under Romanian control after World War II and thus under communist rule. Bishop of Transylvania, Aaron Marion, was arrested while conducting a Marian pilgrimage to the shrine and the communists sealed the shrine. The Franciscan Friars fled to America, assisted by the American Hungarian population, keeping alive their love for the Madonna. (A full history of the Madonna of Csiksomlyo is available at the Shrine website.)

Then in 1957, Bishop Emmet Walsh gave them permission to build a monastery in Youngstown. They purchased the site, located on the east side of South Belle Vista south of Price Road, from Ward Beecher and Eleanor Price Beecher. Eleanor was a descendent of the Price family who had acquired this land as early settlers on Youngstown’s Westside. The old homestead served as the Franciscan Friary, for which the Beechers later gave a substantial gift for improvements.

In 1963, the Bishop approved establishing a shrine under the name Our Lady Comforter of the Afflicted. On October 8, 1963, the cornerstone was blessed and by the end of the year the shrine chapel construction was advanced to the point of being opened to the public. The following year, a copy of the statue of the Madonna of Csiksomlyo was enshrined in the chapel and dedicated by Bishop Walsh on October 4, 1964.

In addition to the Shrine Chapel, there are several notable features on the grounds. Reflecting the history of suffering under communism, there is a unique rendering of the Stations of the Cross known as the Stations of the Iron Curtain Cross. Amid the Stations is the Cathedral of Pines, capable of accommodating outdoor services of up to a thousand. Over the altar is a shrine to the Blessed Virgin of Fatima, one of four statues sent by the Bishop of Fatima to the four corners of the world. This is the only one in the Western world. There are several other statues of the Virgin Mary including one from the Our Lady of Hungary Church across the street and a Shrine to the Unborn.

Statue of St. Stephen, King of Hungary. © Robert C. Trube, 2019.

Visible from the parking lot and reflecting the history of the Shrine is the statue of St. Stephen of Hungary, the first monarch to be canonized. The statue was featured at the 1939 World’s Fair in New York. A Cleveland millionaire purchased the statue. He donated it to the Franciscans on learning of their construction of the shrine.

The Shrine offers Sunday and weekday masses and “Spirituality Days” preached by the Franciscans. The Shrine is located at 617 S. Belle Vista Avenue and more information may be found at their website.

The Madonna of Csiksomlyo. A band of Franciscans fleeing religious persecution under communism. An invitation from Bishop Walsh. The old Price farm and homestead. All these combined to create a unique space for religious devotion commemorating the struggle of Hungarian Christians under communism while serving the spiritual needs of all who come.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — 10 Things We No Longer Do

An old Youngstown bicycle license from the 1970’s

My wife and I were talking about things we don’t do that were a part of our lives growing up in Youngstown. Here were ten things we came up with on this stroll down memory lane.

Buy bike licenses. We remember buying licenses for our bikes. You’d go down to the nearest fire station, fill out a form with your name, address and bike description and serial number, It was supposed to help in recovering stolen bikes. The old ones were metal and there were holes on bike fenders that you could use a nut and bolt to attach the license. Eventually they went to reflective stickers like the one pictured above that were harder to remove. No one I know ever recovered a lost bike. Better to buy a good lock.

Skate on sidewalks with roller skates that clipped to your shoes. This allowed for a quick switch without pulling off shoes and pulling on skates and the metal wheels held up to concrete sidewalks. Looking online, it does appear there are some modern versions of clip on roller skates.

Buy the latest hits on 45 rpm “singles.” Remember getting the latest Beatles or Human Beinz single. There was a “B” side with a song not nearly as good, usually. The top hits lists came from sales of these. You had to play them with an adapter or insert. Now you download or stream the songs digitally. But vinyl has experienced a comeback. Will 45’s?

Use an old cigar box for your school pencil case. We loaded pencils, erasers, pens, rulers, and protractors into one of these after grandpa emptied one of all his stogies.

Go to sock hops. Yes, we wore socks to protect the gym floor. Girls on one side, boys on the other. Eventually the bolder ones paired up and somehow most of the rest followed while teachers and parents chaperoned.

Climbing Rope, Public Domain

Climb the rope (or not) in gym class. At least for guys, this was a mark that you were fit. It was a moment of triumph when I could finally do this in eighth grade as baby fat finally got replaced with adolescent muscle. For a long time, it was just a dreaded ordeal of failure.

Using carbon paper. Remember when if you wanted to have a copy of a document, you would insert a piece of carbon paper between two sheets of paper or printed forms, including credit card receipts?

Image by Ralph from Pixabay

Returning pop bottles for deposits. When we bought a bottle or crate of pop, there was a bottle deposit that was part of the price. We’d get a few cents back when we returned the bottle, which we often used to buy penny candy. Recycling was built into the system.

Shopping at mom and pop stores. They were more expensive but they often would go out of their way to serve their neighborhood customers. They’d set aside a favorite cut of meat. Or deliver a grocery order. “Pop’s” was the store I’d buy baseball cards at or pick up a bag of sugar when mom ran out.

Chrome Reflection” by Jenn Durfey is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Polishing the chrome on dad’s car. Bumpers. Grills. Trim. Wheels. At one time, cars were loaded with chrome. It would get pitted and you used a special chrome cleaner to make it shine like new.

I suspect you could come up with a lot more. It’s funny all the things that were a part of our lives that we (or our kids) no longer do. One more that readily comes to mind: we dial phone numbers on phones that have electronic keypads but no dials. Hope you have a fun trip down memory lane!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Reed’s Arena

Some of the acts that played at Reed’s Arena

It was fifty years ago this week, on February 11, 1974, that fire broke out at Reed’s Arena, located at 25 Oak Hill, at the bottom of Oak Hill on the Southside. A motorist spotted the fire and called it in at 11:40 pm. As the fire department poured gallons of water on the roof, an intense fire, blue at times, consumed the building as a crowd of 200, including Mayor Hunter watched. At 12:07 am, the wall on the Marshall Street side collapsed. Only a smoking hulk was left with a loss valued at $300,000, including a large stock of skates. The building was never rebuilt.

The building was a one story brick and concrete block building built in the 1920’s and known at that time as the Oak Hill Auditorium. It was used for many years for high school, athletic, and civic events. Later McKenzie Muffler operated out of the building. There were a number of small businesses located around that part of Oak Hill. Somewhere in the 1950’s, it appears that it began to be used as a skating arena.. By the 1960’s or earlier James Reed began operating it as Reed’s Arena. The building was owned by McCullough Transfer at the time of the fire.

Through the 1960’s and early 1970’s it operated as a roller rink and gathering spot for Black youth on the lower Southside. Dances were held there and especially after the closure of the Elms Ballroom, it became a concert venue for some of the top R & B acts in the country. Otis Redding was booked there in early 1966. Among the groups booked there in the 1970’s were James Brown, Kool & The Gang, The Chilites, The O’Jays, Parliament-Funkadelic, and The Impressions.

Young Jerry Poindexter, who learned piano at his mother’s side in church, got his start performing in a talent competition at Reed’s Arena after friends pushed him on stage. He won the competition, and later on spent 24 years playing with James Brown.

The Arena also served as a venue for other community events including a closed circuit live showing of the Muhammad Ali-Joe Frazier fight in 1971 with the 1500 seats going for $12 apiece. The report on the fire also mentions a Platinum Show Lounge on the site, also operated by Reed.

One of the challenges is that there is relatively little documentation of the history of venues like this that played an important part in Youngstown’s cultural life, as local historian Sean Posey noted in this interview. I knew of Reed’s Arena and no doubt passed by it but have no memories of the place and never passed by. From what I can learn, James Reed was an entrepreneur who ran a place that served as a gathering place for skating, dances, concerts, and more for the youth of the Southside. At the time of the fire, Reed vowed to go on but I can find nothing of his subsequent career. The destruction of Reed’s Arena by fire marked the end of a building that was a center of activity on the lower Southside for fifty years.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — John DeMain

John DeMain, Music Director, Madison Symphony Orchestra. Photo by Peter Rogers. Used with permission.

I’ve received many wonderful article ideas from friends who live or used to live in Youngstown. This idea came from a friend living outside of Madison, Wisconsin. He’s attends a number of the concerts of the Madison Symphony Orchestra. He raves over the leadership their Music Director, John DeMain has given over the past thirty years of his tenure. He thought I should write about him because he grew up in Youngstown.

So I dug into Maestro DeMain’s story and discovered that his experiences in Youngstown established the whole arc of an amazing music career that included a Grammy and a Tony Award, premieres of several major works, as well as his many accomplishments with the Kenley Players, the Houston Grand Opera, a brief stint with the Youngstown Symphony, and his long and fruitful tenure in Madison, as well as numerous guest appearances with major orchestras throughout the world. So, I was surprised and delighted when he spent an hour this past week talking about his musical journey as a young man in Youngstown..

John DeMain grew up on the Southside of Youngstown, living on Southern Boulevard, just north of Midlothian. His musical career began at age two when he sang a boy soprano part in the Lady’s of Mount Carmel church choir. A solo for his kindergarten class led to him being featured in the Rotogravure section. He continued to sing and his parents decided to buy him a piano to develop his musical abilities. After three years with a piano teacher, he learned all she could teach. She connected him with Hermann Gruss and his wife Blanche, who continued his instruction after Hermann died, through high school.

As a young boy of nine, he performed as a singer in a joint Youngstown Symphony and Playhouse production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. He had early experiences of observing Michael Ficocelli, founder and first director of the Youngstown Symphony, and also diocese music director and John’s band teacher. John observed Ficocelli conducting and substituted for him when he was absent. He worked under Lillian Stambaugh who was the pianist for a production of Paint Your Wagon at the Youngstown Playhouse at age 13. The following year, at age fourteen, he conducted music with a pit orchestra for Brigadoon at the Playhouse. He spoke of “bossing around people old enough to be his grandparents…and loving it.” He did this for three years. During these years he also accompanied productions at Cardinal Mooney and briefly served as a rehearsal pianist at the Kenley Players. He also accompanied for opera students and was observed by Lawrence Lawler, a benefactor who took him to see the Met when they were in Cleveland

In the summer of his junior year, while a student at Cardinal Mooney, he entered a piano competition with the Youngstown Symphony, performing Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto. He was amazed to find out that he won the competition, beating out a student from Juilliard and debuting with the Youngstown Symphony. He credits this as an important factor to winning admission at Juilliard with Adele Marcus, the teacher of the student who he beat out in the competition. He earned Bachelor’s and Masters Degrees from Juilliard. His time in New York exposed him to the vibrant New York and New England musical scene, including a chance to conduct The King and I. He also returned in the summer as assistant conductor for the Kenley Players. He then served as the Music Director for the Kenley Players from 1965 to 1975 and spoke glowingly of John Kenley. We realized that our paths had actually crossed. One of my high school dates was at the Kenley Players production of Man of La Mancha with Giorgio Tozzi. He directed that production and told me about the huge staircase designed by the set designer.

He went to serve as conductor of the Houston Grand Opera in 1975 and immediately became involved in one of the signature productions of his career, a staging of the full score of Porgy and Bess. After the initial 1935 production, much of the content and distinctly African-American and jazz influences were cut from the production. These were restored by the Houston Grand Opera and the result was that the 1976 recording, conducted by John DeMain, won Grammy, Tony and the French Grand Prix du Disque awards in 1976. When they brought the production to New York, Leonard Bernstein told DeMain that this was the Porgy and Bess production that he had waited forty years to hear. In all, he has performed the opera over four hundred times.

John DeMain told me that this was the musical achievement he was proudest of and mentioned two others. One was the premiere performance of John Adams Nixon in China in 1987 and the other, the premiere of Leonard Bernstein’s opera, A Quiet Place. DeMain’s work on Porgy so impressed Bernstein that he asked DeMain to conduct a new production of West Side Story, after which he wanted DeMain to premiere his opera.

It was during his time with the Houston Grand Opera that he also served as an Acting Music Director of the Youngstown Symphony, during the mid-1980’s. After seventeen years with the Houston Grand Opera, DeMain became the music director of the Madison Symphony Orchestra in 1994. At that time, the Orchestra played in the old Oscar Mayer Theatre and consisted of section chairs from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and student musicians. He instituted blind auditions, a standard practice in top professional orchestras and now draws players from throughout the country. He also led the orchestra in performances of the complete Mahler Symphony cycle.

In 2004, he helped open the new Overture Center for the Arts, home to nine different Madison arts organizations and an amazing Concert Organ. Maestro DeMain told me that he thinks the concert hall acoustics, already celebrated, continue to become more resonant as the wood in the hall seasons. The symphony will celebrate its 100th year in the 2025-26 season. DeMain, who just turned 80, announced that he will step down at the end of that season so that a new director can take the orchestra into its next century. As he prepares to step down, he leaves an organization that is fiscally sound and enjoys the largest arts endowment in Wisconsin.

He will continue to be involved for now as artistic director for the Madison Opera but also hopes to do some travel and teaching but does not anticipate another music director position. In January 2023, DeMain received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Opera Association.

John DeMain’s amazing career began in Youngstown. He was a childhood prodigy as singer and pianist. He was conducting ensembles before he was in high school, experiences that solidified for him his love of conducting, even though up to that time, he’d had little formal training. He’s achieved an amazing body of work and we may be justly proud of this musical director who began as a young man from the Southside of Youngstown.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Admiral Giles Bates Harber

He grew up on the West side of Youngstown, received an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy from then-congressman James A. Garfield, mounted a heroic 2667 mile expedition to rescue a stranded polar expedition, was the Executive Officer on the USS Texas during the Spanish-American War, and rose to the command as Rear Admiral of the Pacific Fleet at a time when the U.S. was becoming a global naval power.

Despite all these accomplishments, I suspect few of us know of this distinguished naval officer who both was born and died in Youngstown. He was born September 24, 1849 to Joseph and Ann Eliza (Darrow) Harber. He graduated from the US Naval Academy in 1869, starting out as an Ensign on a sailing frigate, the USS Sabine., moving to a screw frigate, the USS Franklin, in the European squadron from 1870 to 1871. By 1881, he was in command of the torpedo boat, the USS Alarm.

In 1882, Lt. Harber was on a journey through Russia when called on to mount a rescue or recovery operation when the USS Jeanette, commanded by Lt. Commander George Washington DeLong, attempting to explore and lay claim to Arctic regions, became icebound. Leaving from Irkutsk in Siberia by steamer, Harber and his search party covered 2667 miles by boat, reindeer, and dogsled team. There were no survivors, but Harber and his party recovered the remains of ten men who perished, including the body of Lt.. Commander DeLong. When he returned in 1884, he received a hero’s welcome at a reception in the old Opera House on Central Square in Youngstown.

He married Jeanette Thruston Manning of Baltimore in 1889, the wedding reported in the New York Times. After a staff assignment at the Naval Academy and command of a US coastal steamer, Hassler, off the Alaska coast, he was promoted to Lt. Commander in 1896 and served as the Executive officer of the battleship USS Texas in Guantanamo Bay during the Spanish-American War, doing blockade duty. He was promoted to Commander and served as naval attaché in both Paris and St. Petersburg from 1900 to 1903. This was followed by command of the USS New Orleans, from 1903-1905, as part of the Asiatic Squadron, being promoted to Captain in 1905. After graduation in 1905 from the Naval War College, he commanded the USS Independence and the Mare Island Navy Yard from 1905 to 1907.

His crowning achievement was promotion to the rank of Rear Admiral, heading the 3rd Squadron, and then the whole Pacific Fleet from 1907 to 1910. This was the time when American sea power was growing under President Theodore Roosevelt, symbolized by the Great White Fleet of sixteen battleships that circumnavigated the world. In his final year, before mandatory retirement at age 62 in 1911, he served as president of the Naval Examining and Retiring Boards in Washington, DC.

Harber and his wife lived in Washington until she passed away in September of 1925. He moved back to Youngstown, but soon followed her in death on December 29, 1925. He died at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital of a bladder infection. Both he and his wife are buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

Harber distinguished himself throughout life, holding posts and commands in Europe, East Asia, and Central America as well as over the whole Pacific Fleet. The recovery expedition could easily have shared the fate of the Jeanette. Instead, he brought his fellow seamen’s bodies home on an amazing journey. And Youngstown remembered and celebrated him. He also remembered Youngstown. He was the second depositor of the First National Bank in 1863 (at fourteen). On his death, it was found that he had remained a depositor all those years. And it was to Youngstown he returned and spent his final days. We can truly say he was a hometown hero.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Ohltown

Did you ever hear of Ohltown? I first saw the name when I was learning to drive. My dad would take me out on the back roads around Meander Reservoir. One of these was Ohltown Road, which runs northwest toward Warren from Route 46 just north of Mahoning Avenue. It ends by the Ohltown United Methodist Church and the Ohltown Cemetery, next to the church. Austintown-Warren Road, crossing Meander Reservoir from the west dead ends at Ohltown Road. Depot Street veers to the northeast from there.

But where was Ohltown? Basically it was around those crossroads with the western part of the village now underneath Lake Meander. The church and the cemetery are now all that is left of the town.

Ohltown gets its name from Michael Ohl. Ohl’s parents, Henry and Abolona Ohl moved to Canfield from Allentown, Pennsylvania, settling north of the village. Michael, their oldest, was born in 1785 and married Eva Meyers (Meiers) in 1806. The young couple settled in southern Austintown Township for twelve years, having the first five of thirteen children. Around 1815 and 1816, Michael acquired 230 acres in southwestern Weathersfield Township along Meander Creek about a mile and a half west of Mineral Ridge. After damming the creek to create a millrace, he built a sawmill, and later a gristmill, which remained in operation for a hundred years. The sawmill provided the lumber for the family’s permanent residence.

Ohl was enterprising. He opened a general store doe the growing village as well as becoming the first postmaster, the post office in his house. A plank road ran through the property, connecting Canfield, Warren, and Cleveland. The house became a stagecoach stop and inn. Then in 1835, Ohl began mining coal on the south side of his property one of the seams of coal that were plentiful in the vicinity of Mineral Ridge.

Ohltown United Methodist Church, undated photo.

The Ohltown United Methodist Church traces its beginnings to 1838. They acquired a building from a Lutheran congregation in 1847. By that time, the town included a grocery store, post office, shoemaker, cabinet maker, and a blacksmith, along with the general store and mills owned by Ohl. There was also a school. In 1849, Ohl died.

This may have marked the peak years for the village. As canals and railroads were built, they bypassed Ohltown. By the 1880s, only thirty homes and a couple stores remained. By the 1900s, only a few homes, the church and cemetery remained. People went elsewhere for work.

Meanwhile, the industrial development along the Mahoning River, polluting the water of Niles and Youngstown, along with periodic flooding, led to the formation of the Mahoning Valley Sanitary District in 1927. A dam on Meander Creek was part of the plan to provide a clean source of drinking water and was part of a larger flood control plan. It would require flooding the town area west of Ohltown Road. Some people sold their homes, other homes were moved.

Today, as already noted, only the church, which has weekly services, and the cemetery remain as remnants of the town Michael Ohl built. But I can imagine that there was a time when this was a pleasant and comfortably prosperous place, located along scenic Meander Creek.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!