Here are some pictures I came across from 1967. This is the house I grew up in on Old 161. The McCoy center now sets where the house was located. In two of the pictures looking from the back of the house you can see the old baseball diamond and in the background you can see Swickard woods. This picture was taken just after the post office was built. This is before Morris Cardinal and the apartments were built.
By: Gene Davis
Comic books and drawing … that’s all I cared about as a kid! Attending New Albany elementary through high school in the 60’s and 70’s was pretty cool, although many times as a boy I felt like the proverbial square peg. I didn’t play sports (or have any interest) and by today’s standards, I guess I would’ve been considered a nerd! Drawing was the only thing I gave my undivided attention … which is probably why I had so much trouble with Algebra during the first 6 weeks of study. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was a right brain thinker! Oh, I would eventually do well with courses like Algebra, after my brother tutored me and broke it down so I could grasp what it was all about … but I had to really work at it!
The old high school was something else, and I can still remember having 3 people to a locker, which meant look out below if your lockermates overstacked their books and stuff! The new high school was like something out of the future with modular walls, and award-winning design (at least that’s what I heard!) and plenty of space for everyone! Which made it all the more confusing that we still attended art classes in the old elementary school building! I didn’t really mind though, because that room was like a good friend to me. The two art teachers that stand out in my mind are Mrs Hale and Mrs Ballenger. Both were patient and kind teachers who may not have always understood my passion for drawing crazy flying comic book figures rippling with muscles and such … but they gave me space to grow and experiment. I loved drawing imaginary girls with big eyes and long flowing hair, then later just drawing people in general became a fixation! True, I complained when I was told I had to learn about fine art and Van Gogh and Rembrandt … what the devil did they have to do with me?! And why am I drawing railroad tracks and telephone poles in perspective? I hate perspective! Or so I thought at the time. Still, the things I learned from my teachers and the latitude they allowed me only fueled my desire to draw more and more. I came out of my shell and began to express myself through my art! One of the best things about New Albany was the fact that everyone knew everyone! When my senior year consisted of at least 3 study halls with no option to leave early, Mrs Ballenger allowed me to spend those extra periods in the art room, where I got to know the sisters and brothers of my classmates … and to work on whatever I wanted, a dream come true!
The world was opening up for all of us after graduation in 1974 and although I didn’t want to attend the Columbus College of Art and Design, I wasn’t sure where this square peg would find the right fit! The answer came in 1981 with the start of an intensive 3 year training program at the Joe Kubert School of Cartoon and Graphic Art, in Dover, New Jersey. Joe was one of the premiere comic artists from the Golden Age of Comics and through him and my other art instructors I learned a lot of discipline and control, whether drawing faces, figures, or backgrounds … in perspective! I really applied myself and was fortunate to be one of their top students … but something was missing and I realized I really didn’t care to draw flying men in tights all the time! Luckily a good part of my training also involved graphic design and advertising. So while I was still in school and putting in 16+ hours of work a day on illustrative studies, I began freelancing (and was yelled at for doing it too!) with two small advertising agencies in the area. That opened my eyes to the world of advertising, TV storyboard work, and freelancing in general!
After graduation in 1984, my wife and I naturally gravitated back to Ohio. Our families and memories were here and after living in Albuquerque, New Mexico then Hackettstown, New Jersey, it was good to be home! The next 25 years were filled with lots of freelance and commission work with ad agencies and design firms, and even a 10 year stint as co-owner of my own graphic design firm, before my partner and I split.
Always remember that everything old is new again, at one time or another! After taking a different road than comic books and building a career from it, I decided to embark on another dream from childhood and began to write and illustrate children’s books. I had no formal training as a writer, but after delving into every children’s book I could lay my hands on, I found that anyone could do it! Online publishing was a growing child, and once I began crafting my artwork and stories, I found my graphic design training prepared me for this next step into self-publishing. The early perspective drawing plus the narrative storytelling I learned and used in television storyboards, gave me the right tools to go to work! For the past 11 years I’ve written and illustrated 3 children’s books for myself, plus other titles for several authors. I’ve come full circle with my work as my books are designed and read as graphic novels rather than ordinary books you typically find on a shelf.
Today I live in Gahanna, Ohio with my wife of 42 years, Sandy, and our black lab, Sophie. Immensely proud of my Sicilian heritage and close to my family overseas, I publish my books in English and Italian versions, which are sold through my website cucciaKidsBooks.com, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and a handful of other online sites. I’m also an accomplished pencil portrait artist (cuccciaCreative.com), with commissions throughout the United States and parts of Europe.
My early years in the New Albany school system, helped prepare me for what lay ahead in the future … I just didn’t know it at the time! That small town atmosphere, the warmth of the people, and having cows and horses as your neighbors, instilled something in me that’s still kicking today! Grazie e tanti auguri a tutti voi! (Thank you and best wishes to you all!)
By: Davide Cuccia
I grew up in Cedar Brook until I was 7. I attended New Albany Elementary. We only moved away because my dad worked for FBI and was transferred back to Georgia where he and mom grew up. I tell stories of our little town parades where the Brownies marched. We played outside until Mrs. Hassey rang the bell that we all had to go in for supper. I always wanted to walk to school through the cornfield behind my house through the Huber’s yard and across the street to school but I ride the bus that Mr. Walton drove. At the end of my street was a creek that ran behind me. Walton’s house. I spent many days catching craw dads in that creek and playing with neighborhood friends until large paw prints appeared and our parents said there was a large cat on the loose. Nights out to eat were seldom but after T-ball games, I was in the red team sponsored by All-State. We went for ice cream and sometimes went to Eagle pizza to eat. I was always in awe when the High School kids came in. I couldn’t wait to be an Eagle cheerleader like Dena, but we moved to Georgia and I became a cheerleader there instead. I wish I could have raised my boys where I grew up Cedar Brook Place. There is no place like it anywhere.
I have never seen the renovations to the tow.
By: Tara Jones
You are cordially invited by the New Albany-Plain Township Historical Society to attend:
NOVEMBER 11, 2018 at 6:30 P.M.
(DOORS OPEN AT SIX.)
Noah’s Event Center
175 E. Main Street New Albany, Ohio
This is a free event!
Please join us as we remember the thirty-one New Albany – Plain Township soldiers that left the peace of home for the battlefields of Europe one hundred years ago. This Veteran’s Day we will honor them with song, silence, historical displays, captivating visual effects, and more. The key-note address by historian Dennis Keesee will share our soldier’s stories with a look at our town in the early 1900’s and pay tribute to the 116,000 plus Americans who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.
In keeping with this time honored tradition two sets of 31 poppies will be placed in New Albany this November each honoring one of our 31 doughboys. Additional poppies may be obtained at Eagle Pizza if you would like to place one in front of your business or home.
Every now and again, I look up Eagles Pizza’s website. I miss the pizza and like to look at the photos. But it is not just the pizza photos I like to see, it is all the photos of New Albany I really like to see! I grew up there but have been in Texas since 1984. I worked at Dairy Cream as did my two sisters. Life was good. I rode the roads of New Albany with my 10 speed bicycle and then my red cutlass supreme. I miss it all! It was beautiful! None of my family lives there anymore. Our home was where Jonell Ct. is now. The builder was nice enough to name a street after my Mom.
By: Mary (Snider) Wineriter
Friday, July 24th: Frozen
An American veteran of World War II and a German Jew whom he helped to rescue in Nazi-occupied Holland shared the stage at Granville Middle School (also in New Albany & Johnstown) yesterday to talk about their experiences and to preach the importance of tolerance. The presentation also gave students a chance to hear stories firsthand— an opportunity that is quickly fading away.
Don Jakeway, a U.S. paratrooper during the war, and Bert Jakobs, whose family had fled to Holland to avoid
persecution in Germany, only to be forced into hiding to avoid being sent to a concentration camp after the occupation, told of the Jakobs family’s ordeal and its liberation by American soldiers from Jakeway’s regiment in 1944.
Jakobs, 78, shared a room about the size of a two-car garage with four other people for more than two years while the German army controlled the country. His family ate the same meals every day: a bowl of oatmeal in the morning and potatoes and onions for lunch and dinner. They had to clean themselves with a washcloth from a basin, never brushing their teeth or changing their clothes during their confinement. But the emotional damage from missing much of his childhood was worse than the hardships in their hideout, he said. “I got married in 1956, but it wasn’t until the mid-1980s that I told my three children or wife about hiding,” Jakobs told the students. “I didn’t want to talk about it. It was like a prison sentence.”
Now living in Palm Desert, Calif., Jakobs said he would rather live in the present than the past, but as he got older, he realized the importance of sharing his story. That’s why he agreed to come to central Ohio after he was contacted a few weeks ago by Mark Easton, a New Albany resident who had met Jakeway through volunteer work with veterans.
Originally, Easton had wanted to bring together the two — who had never met — to celebrate Jakeway’s 89th birthday in January, but Jakobs said the two should use the opportunity to talk to schoolchildren about the importance of treating people as equals. “We need to create a world where people are tolerant and accept people for who they are,” Jakobs said. “To me, that’s more important than living for 25 months hiding in a room.” The two spoke in several area
schools, wrapping up with Granville yesterday before Jakobs flew home in the afternoon.
Jakeway, a Johnstown resident, knew of Jakobs because he had corresponded with Jakobs’ sister, Edith Jakobs, who was living in Israel. Jakeway was working on a book about his experiences as a paratrooper in the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division during the war. The two wrote regularly from 1986 until she died last year, he said.
Meeting her brother at Port Columbus on Wednesday was an emotional moment, Jakeway said. Listening to Jakobs speak to school groups taught him a side of the war that he had not experienced as a soldier. “I never got a chance to meet this family,” Jakeway told students yesterday. “I never remembered the homes, the houses, because we were looking for people behind them, or in the trees or bushes. There was a lot of fighting going on.” He echoed Jakobs’ call for students to be tolerant of those unlike themselves, reminding them that the Jakobs family had never harmed the Nazis who persecuted them.
Eighth-grader Dayton Steffeny, 14, said he was amazed by Jakobs’ recovery from his ordeal, and he said he is grateful that the world has changed since the Holocaust. “I think people can be cruel at times, but I think the world has gotten a lot
better,” he said.
This was the word as of 3 month ago!
Residents traveling between Johnstown and New Albany will have to find an alternate route to Johnstown Road (U.S. Route 62) this summer because of a bridge replacement and road resurfacing.
The Ohio Department of Transportation is closing Johnstown Road for 45 days beginning July 8 to replace a bridge between Tippet Road and Walnut Street, and it will begin paving 10 miles of Johnstown Road from the Franklin County line to the Licking County line on the same day.
Friday August 15th: Back to the Future
Get in back-to-school mode by going back in time with Marty McFly. This 80’s classic will entertain the entire family.
Festivities will begin at 7:30 with music and free popcorn. Other concessions items will be for sale in the pavilion.
New Albany Parks and Recreation and Eagles Pizza are proud to announce the dates for the 2nd annual Summer Movie Series. Grab your blankets, lawn chairs and picnic baskets, then sit back and enjoy the show. The screen will go up at dusk so come early to get your spot on the lawn. Alcohol, pets and glass containers are strictly prohibited. Admission is free, though there will be concessions items for sale in the pavilion.
I’m surprised Dirk Stevens hasn’t already posted this picture he shot, but it is so great a story I wanted to share. Dennis Keesee has brought back movie night in New Albany with the first one this coming Friday night at the Wexner Park pavilion. This beautiful signage was done by Sean Alley owner of ProSign on the side of Eagles Pizza, at the exact location where movies were actualy shown, I believe in the early 20th century and not sure how long, maybe into the 1930’s, at least according to the stories my Dad, Clark Cubbage, told. I’m guessing the powers to be would no longer let Rt. 62 be closed down to show movies! But big kudos to these New Albany grads, Dennis, Dirk and Sean, for keeping “old” New Albany alive! I love the sentiment and I love this beautiful signage. The photo in the sign looks to be High Street in New Albany, maybe taken in the late ‘teens or 1920’s? You can see the old Masonic Temple on the left, a building that still stands. Guess it will be up most of the summer, if you have a chance to drive by and see it. Even better, you can all patronize these three NAHS grads-they are all independent business owners in the community!
Friday June 13th: The Incredibles Follow Mr. Incredible and his superhero family through this crime-fighting classic. Kids are encouraged to dress up as their favorite superhero to get in the spirit. The best dressed superheroes will receive a special prize. Festivities will begin at 7:30 with music and free popcorn. Other concessions items will be for sale in the pavilion.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but a teacher’s patience and guidance can be more valuable than gold!
The fundamentals of our childhood education at New Albany were the same as any other school of the time. Reading, writing, arithmetic … they’re a universal constant every child must learn. Playing sports afforded quite a few kids the opportunity to train their bodies as rigorously as they were training their minds however, the kids that weren’t that good at sports or simply weren’t interested in sports, had to find other disciplines to pursue.
I knew from the age of 6 that I wanted to become an artist. That’s all there was to it. There was never a doubt in my mind, but I had no idea how to go about attaining that goal. Wonderful art teachers like Marianne Ballenger and Jan Hale helped me find the beginnings of that path, although I fought them every step of the way.
I didn’t want to learn to draw train tracks and telephone poles vanishing in perspective! I didn’t care about some guy called Picasso that painted weird subjects and had a thing about blue! I didn’t want to draw from life! … I just wanted to draw superheroes! Bringing my mind and magic pencils to bear, Captain America and Batman were going to save the day and I was going to be the guy who drew them! That’s all that mattered … or so I thought at the time.
Thankfully the patience and insight of Mrs. Ballenger and Mrs. Hale outlasted my stubborn streak.Slowly but surely I began to appreciate what they were trying to tell me and found I could apply that knowledge to the things I thought were most important … even in my world of capes, tights and super powers. Funny how that happens, isn’t it? You’ve made up your mind and formulated your opinion and don’t want to hear any facts that might dissuade you from your quest!
Then you realize they’re right and you haven’t paid enough attention … and that’s when the real learning process blossoms! The only place you can go from there is up, up and away!
These two talented art teachers may not have always understood my world or my artwork, but like my parents they were incredibly supportive and challenged me to surpass my previous efforts whenever possible! With this new confidence, I began to see the world in a whole new way … vivid colors, shades of gray, and shapes and textures found in Nature that I hadn’t seen before. I began to look for patterns and harmony in the most basic elements of architecture and landscape … the more I found the more I wanted!
To me, this is what great teaching is all about! Not changing young minds and talent, but challenging kids to find their greatest potential and to embrace it. To let it mold and shape them into something more dynamic than they could ever dream possible! I owe a world of gratitude to teachers like Marianne Ballenger and Jan Hale for my wake up call to the world of Art!
Dedicated teachers of this caliber started me on a journey I’ve enjoyed for over 30 years, and there’s really no end in sight! Because of their confidence in my work, I’m now illustrating children’s books … a dream I’ve had all my life! Check it out: cucciakidsbooks.com. Who knows what’s next? In the meantime, I think I’ll let my pencils guide the way!
Tradition ran deep in the small farming community of New Albany, Ohio. I always thought that some things would never change. I would start out by driving to school with my sister, who drove an old Oldsmobile. We would find a parking spot in big rocks amongst the outer rusty cars and pick up trucks, and make our way into the school. The school stood strong like a big steel barn in the middle of town. A large cut out of our eagle mascot was bolted to the side, for everyone to see. Our mom an dad attended this same school, years ago. We would go from class to class with the sons and daughters of our parents generation. Most of our classes were taught by the same teachers of thirty years ago. Everybody knew everyone.
Physical education was my favorite, because we got to play baseball on the same field our fathers did. Dad would always tell me about the home runs he used to hit there. After the school was over,we would go home, and await the evening’s football game. I would pass my time playing in the yard, all the while enjoying the natural silence of country living. Occasionally a car would pass, it was an odd occurrence not to know who it was.
Later on that night ever one would file into the line at the ticket booth, for the home game Parents and grandparents, New Albany alumni, nested in the bleachers. All of the kids played in the grass be hind them, dreaming of being cheerleaders and football stars. The volunteer fire department, along with few local police officers, kept us in line Our heroes the home team would run from the locker room. We would slap them on the shoulder pads, and would wish them good luck. After about a half hour of cheering and yelling at the referee, halftime was here.
The high school history teacher manned the grill, brats and hot dogs, while the band played. After a good ribbing by the coach the team came back to win it, and the victory bell rang. If we only knew that times like that would soon be no more. It seemed like over night a dark cloud of change rained on our parade of tradition.
Acre after acre of fields were covered with the ugly sight of brick faced mansions, that all seemed to look the same. These mansions were inhabited with minds that paid no attention to tradition, and only wanted change, to suit their selfish souls. When enough homes were built , the democracy swayed, not to the few farmers, but to many new comers. Our once towering school was leveled to the ground, along with the old ball fields. B.M.W.s and Lexus’s took the place of old cars an pick up trucks,in the parking lots.The natural silence of country living is drowned out, by the hum of tires on the freeway nearby.
Soon overwhelming taxes would drive out the property owners, and developments would take their place. I have been out of school for years now, and nothing seems the same. Not long ago the last remaining symbol of what used to be, was taken from us. The towns feed mill, who tried to keep up with change, closed their doors for good the mill was situated in the center of town an often stood as a landmark for those who passed by.
A ounce calm country town is now a bustling metropolis. What was at one time a two lane road is now a six lane highway. Most of the old folks have moved away, to places that resemble what used to be. A very small number of people remain, some even try to fit in. Small towns just like ours are constantly being overwhelmed by money, and progress.
Sometimes I run into people I used to know, and share memories of the past. Its good to know sometimes I am not alone. Sometimes when I am out in the country, I see glimmer of lights in the distance. The glimmer of lights is football field and I go back in time. Times were a lot different back then.
I have been hardened by my experiences. We will always endure change, and traditions will always become broken. I will always at all cost do anything to keep tradition alive. Without tradition we have no memories or nothing to pass on to generations yet to come.
You mentioned the Little League diamond and all at once a lot of memory cells fired in my brain. Hopefully, if Connie Carr is reading this, she will forgive my grammar mistakes. Spell check should catch most of my spelling errors. We moved to New Albany in 1973. Oldest son Jimmy was ready for T-ball in 1974 I believe. Middle son Andy followed him by 4 or 5 years, youngest son Scott followed Andy by another 4 or 5 years and daughter Debbie played softball starting a year after Scott. A sum total of about 16 or 17 years in New Albany Youth League sports. Must qualify the Joseph’s for some kind of award! HA!
I coached many of those years and was treasurer of the league for many years. My wife Judy and Donna Brown ran the little concession stand for many years. She remembers the rectangular pizzas (purchased frozen from Callie Cardules at the Dairy Creme) selling like hot cakes.
The league saved money for many years to buy a new ice machine. Coaches that stand out in my memory were Rod Putterbaugh, Mike Carr, Bill McKinney, Harold Phillips, Jerry Cherry, Jack Farley, Jim Sponagle, Herbie (“Don’t look at the ball- RUN”)Kellett, John Tinon, Robin Nye, and many others. Joe Morlan, of course, leaning on the outfield fence scouting for future Big League pitchers.
Many very treasured memories of small town New Albany. We love it here!!
I would like to add to some of the Coaches that helped get the New Albany Little League up and running:
Tom Kessee, Fred Shoemaker, Dexter Stevens, Mike Kowalski, Dave Mckinney, Chet Abshire, Bill Cowan, Hoel Harris, Gane Hatch, J B Bowe, Mr. Flowers, Jack Brooks, Mr. Seckerson, Mr. Elschlager, Johnny Bowman, Otto Lindenbolt, Pat Folie and others.
The “bump” on Warner road, where if you were going fast enough you could get your car airborne. A friend that we’ll just call ‘Mike’ took his dad’s car — an Olds 88, I think — and hit that spot doing somewhere above the speed limit: that car was so nose-heavy the front of it plowed in to the pavement. I don’t know that his dad ever did find out what really happened.
I also remember that “bump” from riding Dick Yank’s bus, as the longer he had been a bus driver, the faster he seemed to go on his route. If you sat at the back of the bus, you were likely to come up off the seat completely! Good thing he kept the eggs he sold to the kids’ families up front by him until your stop.
My story begins before I even have memories of New Albany. I would guess that my mother took me to the pool, on 605, when I was a toddler. I know that she took me to the Y at about six months of age and did one of those “sink or swim” things, tossing me in, lovingly!
I can remember, spending every waking second, of every summer, at the pool from probably 4th grade until I was 18 or so. I remember days where my mother was coating my nose with Desitin to protect it from the sun, to sitting down over the hill smoking with the girls from Licking Heights. That’s when I was 12.
To this day, I hear songs on the radio that take me back to that pool, I can smell the chlorine, see the sun reflecting off the water and I’m right back there again. There is no other smell, of any other pool, that I have smelled, EVER, that smelled like the pool in (old) New Albany. It was the BEST.
Hanging out with my friends day after day, perfecting our tans, keeping the concession stand in business buying pretzel rods (with a line of mustard) for $.05, Boston Baked Beans for $.25 and the best snack was the frozen Snickers bar, I think that was $.50
Since my mom still had to work at the elementary for a couple weeks after school was out, I was tasked with going in with her to help with the handbooks. That entailed running the Xerox machine, collating and stapling together those handbooks that were passed out at the beginning of the next school year. Doing this was how I earned my pool ticket every year. Well worth it, in my opinion.
My day started out, after waking up, spending a couple hours on the phone each morning with Staci Hatfield. We would talk while watching TV. When I got off the phone with her, I would call Sheri and make sure she was able to go to the pool. I did what chores I was supposed to do and then when my mom would have her lunch break, she would run home, pick me up and drop me off at the pool. It opened at 11 and closed at 9 during the week, maybe, I’m not 100% sure I’m remembering that right. Anyway, either my mom would take Sheri and I, or her mom would take us once she got home from her morning errands. Sheri Miller, Amy Hathaway and I lived at the pool, it seemed. On days when it would rain, there was nothing else to do as we just loved that pool so much. There was a time or two when Sheri and I would ride our bikes, all the way from Sleepy Hollow, down 62, right on 161 and then right onto 605, meeting Amy, Staci and just about everyone else there. Everyone went to the pool. On days we had softball games, we were allowed to go to the pool but could only stay until 2. On days we just had practice, coaches asked us to get out of the pool by 3. I almost always stretched it to 4 though because my mom would pick me up about 4 when she got off work. Once she was done for the summer, I would always beg to stay much later. I didn’t care if I missed dinner. The pool was that important.
I’ll never ever forget that place. Playing tag, with the ladders for bases, going down the slide, diving off the low board, being brave enough to go off the high dive. Standing on my tippy toes in the 6 foot, thinking I was so cool. Trying to swim from the shallow end to the deep end, all in one breath. When the lifeguards would blow the whistle for break, it was the thing to do to swim past all the other ladders and go under the rope and get out in the 2 foot, just to spend more time in the water.
The older I got, things stayed exactly as they were. Which is weird because usually things change, the older you get. The fun though, stayed the same. Even when the lifeguards changed, they added a playground, prices went up at the concession stand. It didn’t matter, it was the pool. It was the pool in New Albany. New Albany was the best place to grow up. It had the best people, the best times, the best friends. It was home.
For as long as I live, I will always remember how awesome it was to grow up in New Albany. To go to the pool. To live on Sleepy Hollow Drive. To have best friends like Sheri Miller and Amy Hathaway.
The Eagles Pizza Book Series 2nd book signing /author event of the season welcomes David Cuccia on Sunday, December 15th from 5-8 pm.
David’s the author-illustrator of There’s A Crazy Dog Under the Palace! Come out for some great pizza, get your signed copy and meet the author!
Join us on December 2, from 6-9 PM at Eagles Pizza for our first book signing and visit with authors Richard Baumgartner and Dennis Keesee. Rick has written and edited numerous books on the Civil War and other subjects. He will be signing assorted titles including Buckeye Blood-Ohio at Gettysburg during this 150th anniversary of the famed battle. Eagle Pizza owner and author Dennis Keesee will have copies of Too Young To Die – boy Soldiers of the Union Army as well. Within are stories of boys aged 5-17 who went away with the innocence of youth and soon were faced with the realities of war.
It was 1985 and i was 4 years old, we were moving from columbus to a little town called Homer. This was before the 161 by-pass when it took what seemed like hours driving from columbus to the new house; it was alway a treat that became a tradition to stop at Eagles Pizza. We would wait in line for a seat to eat our favorite pizza it didnt matter if it was a friday or a saturday the place was always packed with families and high school kids just there to enjoy themselves and keep up on the events of the area.
In the time before cell phones and internet and even the renovation of the resturant when the old gas station was across the street and the tiny police station was there too. Back before New Albany had been Wexnerized, not that it is a bad thing but you very seldom saw a white fence. I remember when the big house was being built between 605 and Kitzmiller, now it doesnt seem so big when you drive through some of the neighborhoods. It is amazing how the little town has changed from the family owned feed mill, an ice cream shop and the pizza shop and dont forget the Christian radio station. I really can’t even remember seeing anything more than an old station wagon or Ford pick-up truck driving through town; where now you really never know what you will see but its almost a guarantee that its not going to be that old farmer parked in the parking lot with his dog in the back of the truck. More like a Lexus or BMW or the occasional Porsche with some one on a cell phone driving crazy because they have some where they have to be in a hurry. Now there are more businesses and churches and what seems like miles and miles of white board fence. How times have changed for an area that began as an old farm town and so many of the people that live in the area don’t have any idea or care to know what the past of the area they live. Please if you have a memory to share do, give others a chance to remember.