Life On, in and Along the Thames: 1930'S to Early 1940'S

By Dan E. Blackstone

Life On, In and Along the Thames is an auto biographical sketch of our youthful exploits on the
Thames River from the ages of approximately nine to fifteen, describing how being poor wasn't all
bad, That the River was really a se and mother to those who frequented her shores. It deals with
boating, swimming, and waving to he engineers and firemen and passenger trains. Some concluding
reminisces deal with interrelationships of neighbors and respect for them, yes mam and yes sir and
thank yon, being the key words in their presence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483692913

Dan E. Blackstone

An adventurous explorer, Dan has travelled to many countries with his wife. He was sworn into the USN serving from 1944 to 1952. The main lesson learned was the need for education, He taught science in high school as a career. Although retired, he continues being involved in community activities, especially the EMS, as a volunteer. Writing is usually a spur-of-the-moment activity, especially poetry. His first book, “Love in Three Sections”, was published in 2012. He has many hobbies and interests, and lives in Pawcatuck, CT near the ocean.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Dan E. Blackstone.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4836-9290-6

                Ebook          978-1-4836-9291-3

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.

Rev. date: 09/06/2013

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Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter I:   The River

Chapter II:   Swimming and Trains

Chapter III:   On The River

Chapter IV:   Up The River

Chapter V:   Landmarks Along The River

Chapter VI:   Hurricane of 1938 and the Railroad Tracks

Chapter VII:   Neighborhood Watchers

Chapter VIII:   Temporary Reprieve from the River

Chapter IX:   Back to the River: The Elto Ace and Other Activities

Chapter X:   The Lake

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

W e had an adventurous life, exposures to a multitude of activities that others can only dream about. Almost on a daily basis I am reminded by someone who unwittingly says or imitates an act that causes a recall of our childhood. Thank you.

The book would not be complete without acknowledging the neighbors and friends we knew. Some of them are… .

From Laurel Hill: Dudu S, Johnny S, Popeye, Lucille, Skippy, Big Fool, Boof maker, Beans, Hop-a-long, 4 eyes, Shrimp, Malc, Potts, Charlie P, Jack Allen, Joey & Eddie S, Joey S, Charlie & Ralph N., Doc Jensen, Walker twins, Edjew—Edgew?, Al D, Erickson, Herrick, James & j? twins, Robert J, Marvin J, Marshall & Murray, Bobby & Tony W., Bobby N, Bobby H, Elwood B, Evelyn F, Evelyn G, Harriet, Jean, Gloria, Louise, Stephanie, Frannie, Alice, Lisha, Ruth, Laura, Dottie S, Lorraine, Virginia (Eliz)?

On Rogers Ave, Crowe, Rogers, and Hoelck.

On Sunnyside, Clay, etc. a raft of people…

Some fine teachers from NFA: Mr. de Courcy, Miss Peck, Miss McMann, Miss Pryor (sp), Miss Cupit, Miss Triplett, Mrs. Browning

Grade school teachers: Miss Adams, Miss Kilroy, Miss Cloon (sp), Miss Driscoll

And from the Bums (Thamesville side): Barbara L, Shirley and Edith A., Cavete (sp), Donald B, Rosalie C, Hayes Brothers, June and Russell B,

And others I can’t recall.

In the book I refer to an apple tree, different coves, calm waters, stone walls and young people. I mention a few people who have been influential in my life, so I have included several short pieces that represent the influence of these people and places.

All errors and misspellings are mine and mine alone.

Special thanks to author, Nancy Rustici, for suggestions and directions, to an unknown English teacher at the time, who repeatedly told me to write by the name of Wally Lamb, and to Jean Blackstone, without whose computer skills I’d never have completed this missile, and of course, Barbara Aiello, a steadfast encourager, a source of comfort, a real nice lady.

dan

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1.   Hollyhock Island

2.   Coal Dock

3.   Broadway School

4.   RR Tunnel

5.   Gas Plant

6.   RR Bridge East Side

7.   East Side

8.   Switch Yard

9.   Lumber & Dahl Oil

10.   Fill Area of Old Cove

11.   Cove

12.   Blueberry Lots

13.   Dock & Swim Area

14.   Thermos Co.

15.   Rope Swing

16.   Apple Tree

17.   Fish Trapping Area

18.   Water Tank—RR

19.   State Hospital

20.   Draw Bridge

21.   Trading Cove RR Bridge

22.   Thames River Pirates

23.   Woolen Mill

24.   Thamesville Bums

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CHAPTER I

THE RIVER

A dventure… Imagination… Visions past, present and future… If the river could speak, what grand accolades it could bestow upon those who were a part of Her. Yes, Her, for she mothered many in their childhood quest for education, success and just searching for the unknown. What a learning experience. What opportunities! She provided that rampantly enhanced creativity of untold champions victorious in every adventure. Only the river knows, what we, the youth who lived along her banks, learned from Her and the comfort we found as we dove into her welcoming arms.

At first, she was a fearsome obstacle; a body with no regard for lives or recognition of the uninitiated. Gradually we came to know a more loving, kinder river, ever giving and protector to those who understood and appreciated her. No one group knew more of her various moods than we who interacted with Her daily and ventured out upon her surface even in the most tempestuous conditions, even in a hurricane! We all loved that river unconditionally. Actually, she romanced us. The so called Bums and Rats (us) enjoyed her enticing invitations to communicate with her in every possible and thinkable manner. Once we learned her language, there was no stopping our adventures with her and through her.

The starting point in telling this tale must be the first time we saw Her. We were not born near Her, the river that is. Our nurturing began when we moved from a farm environment to the city at ages eight and nine. Along her magnificent flowing eddies created by breakwaters, points of land, jetties, docks, sand bars and mud flats, we learned Her ways. The barriers were resistant to the changing tides, causing entirely different swirls depending on whether it was a flood or ebb tide, with or without wind, or the river’s own direction. Our first view inspired awe; young and impressionable and a little intimidated especially when our parents instructed us to stay away from Her, because they feared we’d be swept away. Probably that was the concern of every parent, since we only lived a few hundred feet from its bank, although we were sixty to eighty feet above Her. After that view from above, Her allure drew us to seek a way to reach Her.

By walking across the street we came to a sidewalk, a fence three to four feet in height and then a wall that went down twenty to twenty five feet to a garden. It was well kept and practically weed free. About two hundred feet to the left there was a small dirt road, with a cobble stone monument with a perfectly round stone sphere on top of it. Crown Hill led to several houses, circled round to the left, passed an opening on the right that led to the river. A path to the river had been found! The road continued up around the gas storage sphere back to the main road which was next to the school.

Eventually we found a second route between two houses across the street, which was the shortest way to the river. A dirt path snaked back and forth down a sixty + degree slope past ‘Jimmy-the-beggar’s’ house to the tracks. Besides the switch-backs, there was one other way that was used periodically. Near Frannie’s porch was a tree that we used, but being so close to her house and knowing Frannie’s parents were not too fond of anyone using that method of descent, we rarely used it. My brother reminded me that we had a small tree growing near our second floor bedroom window, and once I tried to use it as an escape route only to have it snap off so that I landed in a heap with the tree.

Railroad tracks ran along on both sides of the river; another obstacle to overcome in our quest to reach the river. Parental fear about the safety of their children was overcome within a short time frame and we were allowed to cross over the tracks to see kids fishing and setting eel-pots and minnow pots. After all, ALL the other kids were doing it!

The river was still a challenge. We hadn’t been on Her or over Her or in Her, only to the edge near the small rickety docks, some of which were so wobbly only three or four people at most could stand on them at one time. The cove at perigee, the lowest of tides, had only a few inches of water covering the mud and sand in places. That fact was discovered once when we attempted to wade out: the mud was at least a foot in depth, or so it seemed. Disaster! A well planned trip out to the breakwater was spoiled due to blackish brown mire. Eventually we discovered there was a way to walk out to the end of the breakwater without having to go over a quarter of a mile out of the way; then a quarter mile to the end of the breakwater, instead of travelling only two hundred to three hundred feet from the docks, thereby saving close to a mile walk out and back. When we first moved, we were restricted to the back woods and an occasional excursion to the river. Each time we became more enthralled and Her call became clearer and louder. Once everyone learned to swim, the restrictions were lifted by the parents and by the next summer we had unlimited access, as long as we mentioned where we were going.

During the winter we had walked along her banks for miles in each direction becoming familiar with her coves, feeders, and islands that we could see from the shore. It was tempting to walk on the ice to the islands. There was a glaze on the rocks of the breakwaters at first and chunks of ice standing upright on the edge at low tides. It was too dangerous to walk on the breakwater and the ice was different thicknesses due to freezing at different times. The ice blocks were on such steep angles along the breakwaters that it was impossible to attempt crossing to the islands. We learned early that it was dangerous to walk on thin ice because the water beneath it would still run and should you fall in, you probably would not make it back to the surface. The water would carry you down stream under the ice where you could become trapped. We considered kicking the ice rather than trying to break it with our hands. But eventually it was decided these ideas wouldn’t work. The best survival technique was to throw out your arms to each side to keep you from going under.

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Breakwater with ice in cove

Thinking back about the blocks of ice, there was a stupid thing we did. The river would occasionally freeze so that it was possible to cross to the other side and back. Sometimes it would stay frozen for over a week, and that is when we saw our first ice breakers. These ships would come up the channel to open it so that boat traffic could pass, delivering coal and oil to the storage