Berneice Beulah Anderson: Some of My Memories of 96 Years

By Ray Anderson

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781469136776

Ray Anderson

Ray Anderson is a hiker and the author of the AWOL Thriller novel series, which includes The Trail (2015), Sierra (2016), and The Divide (2020). Anderson has done a radio column on hiking. He has also written columns for the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) newsletter. Anderson lives with his wife, Nancy, near Boston. When not reading or writing, he walks, listens to music, and tries to keep up with grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2011 by Ray Anderson.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4691-3676-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-3677-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1  My Early Life

Chapter 2  School Days

Chapter 3  Home And Family

Chapter 4  Barr Street And Southside Markets

Chapter 5  It Wasn’t All Work

Chapter 6  How It Was Done In The Good Old Days

Chapter 7  Frederick Leo Anderson

Chapter 8  Married Life

Chapter 9  Me

Chapter 10  Why Mother’s Hair Turned Grey (I Remember When)

Chapter 11  Christmases That I Remember

Chapter 12  Extra Memories I Thought Of

Chapter 13  My Last Thoughts

Acknowledgments

My grandson, Mark Anderson, worked on this book first, but that copy came up missing. While in Fort Wayne for my 90th birthday party in July 1998, Joy Kizer, my niece (my brother Bill’s daughter), and I were talking about my life. She said she would like to type it up for me. She said she had her computer with her, so we started but we ran out of time to complete the book. She finished the notes she had and mailed it to me. After reading it, I saw there some more things to add. My son, Ray Lee Anderson, volunteered to add the extra memories to save on the postage of mailing them back and forth. As I thought of different items, he could correct and add them quicker.

I want to thank Joy, Mark and Frances, and Ray for their time in putting this book together for me to give the younger generations a look at how it was done in my lifetime.

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Chapter 1

MY EARLY LIFE

I, Berneice Beulah Schlaudraff, was born July 17, 1908, in Kendallville, Indiana. I was the second child of Charley George and Beulah Belle (Craven) Schlaudraff. My mother was the third child of Myrtle Belle Russell and Harrison Craven from Battle Creek, Michigan. My father was the third child of Sophia Bergman and Johann Ludwig (Lewis B.) Schlaudroff (it’s believed that sometime during the Civil War he changed his name from Louis to Lewis and the spelling of Schlaudroff to Schlaudraff).

My oldest brother, Edward Charley, was born on July 23, 1907, in the same house I was. The house was very close to Bixler Lake in Kendallville, Indiana.

My dad was married before to Millie Whitney and had a baby girl by that union. They divorced and she and her boyfriend, along with the child, moved to California. He never heard from them since.

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In 1909, my Uncle Phillip Schlaudraff drowned in that lake. He lost his life while swimming during the noon hour one day. I think he had a heart attack. He was 24 years old.

My father ran a refreshment stand at the lake. He sold homemade ice cream with homemade cones. The cone maker was like a waffle iron. The oven was a round sheet metal holder for the waffle iron to set on over a fire. The recipe for the batter is:

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Ice cream cone recipe

1 ½-lbs. sugar

1 ½-lbs. Flour

Milk + 4 eggs

Mix with milk to make like pancake batter. Use olive or sweet oil on the oven, bake ’til light brown on one side, then turn the oven over and continue baking ’til light brown and still hot. Roll the waffle around the mold until cool. Sweet oil must be used on the mold to keep the cone from sticking to the mold. Also, a cup can be used as a mold for a different shape.

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In the winter, Dad rented out ice skates to people and sold some hot food, too. He worked in the McCray factory located where the Kendallville (McCray Memorial) Hospital is today. They made iceboxes, our refrigerator of today. The iceboxes needed no electricity. The owner of this icebox would buy a block of ice about 18 square or it might sometimes be in the shape of a rectangle. They weighed about 25# apiece and cost 10 cents to 50 cents. You would have to put the ice in the top or in the side depending on the type of icebox you had. The ice would last 4 to 6 days, depending on how often you opened up the icebox; also you had to get rid of the melted ice water. The icebox, as I remember, was about 18 deep, 24" wide, and about 4 ft or 5 ft. high. Inside, below the ice chamber was the water pan and also in the bottom. It had maybe 1 or 2 shelves. The better models had cork for insulation. In the winter, they would cut the ice off rivers and lakes or ponds and put it in icehouses. Most of the icehouses were made of very thick wood with cork lining for insulation. Then they put sawdust between and around the ice; it worked pretty well. They had an icehouse close to the lake or pond. Usually, the ice was delivered by horse and wagon to your house and you bought what you needed. This was called an ice wagon or huckster wagon. Sometimes the driver also made a trip through the countryside with staple groceries, etc. Some carried thread and other items needed in the household. Most of the hucksters would purchase things that you needed in the household and bring them back on the next trip. Sometimes he would trade your chickens, eggs or whatever you had for his items. Maybe we would have a penny or a nickel for candy. O BOY! Can I get a licorice stick?

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My family moved to Fort Wayne when I was one year old. My Grandma and Grandpa Schlaudraff had a farm (about 25 acres, I think). Part of it was river bottom, which was sandy and very good to raise crops. The farm was on Oswego Street, along the St Joe River. They were truck farmers. Truck farmers grew and stored produce, as well as, grew a fresh variety of produce to sell to other families. My dad helped my grandpa and worked in town when he could. My grandparents had