Woodstock Sentinel 80th Anniversary Edition Newspaper, March 13, 1937, Section 8

Woodstock Sentinel 80th Anniversary Edition Newspaper, March 13, 1937, Section 8

1937-03-13

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Eightieth Anniversary Edition Woodstock Daily Sentinel
McHENRY COUNTY'S LEADING NEWSPAPER—PUBLISHED DAILY, EXCEPT SUNDAY—ESTABLISHED EIGHTY YEARS AGO.
Woodstock, McHenry County, Illinois, Saturday, March 13, 1937
Entered as Second-Class Matter August 21, 1921, at the post office at Woodstock, Illinois, under the Act of Mar. 8,1879.

SECTION EIGHT WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL EIGHTIETH ANNIVERSARY EDITION McHENRY COUNTY'S LEADING NEWSPAPER—PUBUSHED DAILY, EXCEPT SUNDAY—ESTABLISHED EIGHTY YEARS AGO. Established 1856—Eighty-first Year. WOODSTOCK, McHENRY COUNTY, ILLINOIS
GOODWILL MESSAGES TO WOODSTOCK Letters from President Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover, Alf M. London and Many Other Friends MESSAGES FROM EDITORS, SENATORS, CONGRESSMEN AND OTHER PUBLIC MEN
The editor of the Woodstock Daily-Sentinel is indeed proud of the fine messages of congratulations which have come to this publication upon the event of its Eightieth Anniversary Eldition. A cordial letter from President Franklin D. Roosevelt, also equally pleasing letters from former President Herbert Hoover and former Governor Alf M. Landon, Republican candidate for President last November, in facsimile grace this page. Their kind words are highly appreciated. Equally do we appreciate telegrams from Senator Jas. Hamilton Lewis and Col. Frank Knox, publisher of the Chicago Daily News, and letters from former Governor Frank O. Lowden, who for many years has been a subscriber of the Sentinel, Col. Robert R. McCormick, publisher of the Chicago Tribune, William H. Stuart, editor of "Heard and Seen" in the Chicago American, Chauncey W. Reed, Congressman of this district, Senator Arnold Benson of Batavia, Representatives Richard J. Lyons and Nick Keller of our district, and last but not least, our friend, C. Wayland Brooks, who is personally so well known to our readers. We know our readers will enjoy reading these messages, just as we have enjoyed receiving them. We express our sincere thanks to them all.
FRANK 0. LOWDEN Sinnissippi Farm, Oregon,Ill. Dear Mr. Renich: I congratulate you upon the coming eightieth birthday of the Woodstock Sentinel. While it is a little, and only a little, older than I, I have known the Sentinel for almost half of its lifetime. During all these years I believe it to have served its community ably and faithfully. I wish for its future uncounted years of future service to the good people of northern Illinois. With cordial regards, Sincerely yours, FRANK 0. LOWDEN.
JAS. HAMILTON LEWIS United States Senator. Western Union Telegram. Please take my congratulations on the anniversary of your paper, with its great service to the cause of liberty and humanity. I send you personal wishes for your continued life of usefulness and of the continuing influence of your patriotic publication. JAS. HAMILTON LEWIS.
ARNOLD P. BENSON Senator Batavia, Illinois. My Dear Mr. Renich: My attention has been called to the fact that the Sentinel is, this year, observing its 80th anniversary, and that this occasion is to be marked with a special edition shortly. Eighty years of service to a community should call for something in the way of a community celebration, for surely much of the progress of your splendid county seat city is due to the leadership the Sentinel has always given. Happy indeed must you be after directing the activities of this community asset for so many years. As a newspaper man myself, and realizing the many difficulties presented in publishing a real worth while paper, I hasten to extend mv congratulations to you and with them my best wishes for continued success for the Sentinel, its editor and the entire loyal staff. With kind personal regards, I am Very cordially yours, ARNOLD P. BENSON.
Message From President Franklin D. Roosevelt. February 2, 1937. My dear Mr. Renich: It gives me great pleasure through the Eightieth Anniversary Edition of your newspaper to send to all of your readers my hearty felicitations. The fact that your paper has received the support of the reading public through fourscore years is ample evidence of its value as a public institution. I trust that as the years come and go it will ever uphold the best interests of the community which has been for so long the field of its activities. Very sincerely yours, Franklin D. Roosevelt. Mr. Charles F. Renich, Editor,
Woodstock Daily Sentinel, Woodstock, Illinois.
LETTERS TELL OF LOVE OF WOOSTOCK BY ABSENT FRIENDS. The Sentinel publishes in the following columns a number of letters from former residents, who now live in other parts of the country, all of whom express one central thought— an abiding love for old Woodstock, the town of their childhood days, of which they write in a most interesting manner, recalling much that the readers of this old time anniversary edition will enjoy. The following brief lines express better than anything we can say the thought that lives on and on in the hearts and minds of all former Woodstock people, no matter where their present homes may be. "Knocking at your door today Just to say 'Hello,' To one of the friendliest people It has been my luck to know.
J. P. ALT. 4921 N. Francisco Ave., Chicago." We know our readers will enjoy these letters as many are reministic of former days in Woodstock and will recall to our readers incidents in their lives which may be now forgotten. Read them all, you will enjoy them.
The first of these letters is from Mrs. Lettie Cummins Hayes. Lettie Cummins, to you old timers, who was a teacher in the Woodstock schools more than half a century ago. Mrs. Hayes, now past eighty years, is enjoying good health and lives in retirement at Denver, Colo. She would be happy to hear from any of her old friends or those who attended school to her way back in the eighties in the Woodstock schools. Her address is at the close of her letter-Other interesting letters are from Mrs. Erna Seiler Moote of Tulsa, Okla.; the late Charles F. Dacy of Asheville, N. C, who wrote a letter only a few weeks before his death; Mrs. Bessie Murphey Allen of Atlanta, Georgia;
John M. Burbank of St. Paul, Minn., Otto E. Seiler of Chicago; Floyd H. Field, another old timer, brother of the late A. F. Field of this city; Robert H. Gillmore, son of the late Judge and Mrs. 0. H. Gillmore, now an attorney at law at Whittier, Calif.; Gertrude Breslau Fuller, a niece of the late "Corporal Jack" Darrell. She holds a responsible position in the state government at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania; Mrs. Gertrude Southworth Young, daughter of the late Gardner S. Southworth, former owner and editor of the Sentinel. She lives at Larchmont, N. Y.; Cliff V. Sherman, director Shrine band at Los Angeles, Calif.; Mrs. Morna A. Mumford, Chicago. (Continued On Page Two)
0. WAYLAND BROOKS. My Dear Mr. Renich: Please insert the following lines for me: "Congratulations to Chas. F. Renich, Editor and Publisher, Woodstock Daily Sentinel, and best wishes for continued service in a great community." With every kind wish, I am Yours very sincerely, C. WAYLAND BROOKS.
Greetings From Former President Herbert Hoover. February 9, 1937.
Mr. Charles F. Renich, Editor and Publisher, Woodstock Daily Sentinel, Woodstock, Illinois. Dear. Mr. Renich: I should like to add my congratulations to the many others you will receive on the eightieth anniversary of the Woodstock Daily Sentinel. I know that every thinking person realizes that the country newspaper ranks with the schools as the very foundations of public service, and I know that your community has long since come to regard the Daily Sentinel as an essential part of community life.
NICK KELLER Representative 8th Senatorial District. Dear Mr. Renich: The history of Woodstock and McHenry County is interwoven with that of The Woodstock Daily Sentinel. During the past 80 years Woodstock has grown from a tiny pioneer settlement to the bright and sparkling city of today that rests like a gem in the terrain of Northern Illinois; and The Sentinel in its own march toward progress has played an important part in bringing about this municipal development.
Woodstock, a city of beautiful homes, marked municipal achievements and energetic and contented citizens, has looked forward to the coming of the Sentinel to its doorstep with the news of the city, state and nation for more than three generations. In a true sense of its name it has always stood as a staunch sentinel in guarding the interests of the people of Woodstock and McHenry county. Founded by pioneers on humanitarian principles it has adhered to these ideals. During the more than 30 years that Charles F. Renich has served as editor and publisher of the Sentinel it has attained an enviable place in journalistic circles in Illinois. A newspaper so ably managed and edited could not be otherwise than influential and successful. As a subscriber to both the Woodstock Daily Sentinel and its contemporary, the McHenry Plaindealer, I am well acquainted with and a believer in the editorial policies of Mr. Renich. Woodstock is fortunate in having the Sentinel and Mr. Renich and the Sentinel and Mr. Renich should thankful that they have Woodstock. I extend my heartiest congratulations to Mr. Renich and his capable staff and to the city of Woodstock on this, the SOth anniversary of the foundation of THE WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL in the county seat of McHenry county.
Very truly yours, NICK KELLER.
Alf M. Landon Sends Congratulations. February 2, 1937. Mr. Chas. F. Renich, Editor and Publisher, Woodstook Daily Sentinel, Woodstock, Illinois. Dear Mr. Renich I am happy to extend congratulations to the editor and publisher of the Woodstock Daily Sentinel on the Sentinel's Eightieth Anniversary. The newspapers of America do a splendid public service not only in informing their readers of the news of the day, but in developing community ideals and spirit, and in furthering important projects. A democracy such as ours is particularly in need of a vigorous, honest and community minded press. We are fortunate that American newspapers have fulfilled their function so well.
May the Woodstock Daily Sentinel continue to serve its territory for many more years and may it always carry out in full the duties of our American press. Sincerely yours, Alf. M. Landon.
(Continued On Page Five)

PAGE TWO WoODSTOCk DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK ILLINOIS Eightieth Anniversary Edition
ERNA SEILER TELLS DAYS OF GIRLHOOD IN WOODSTOCK Dear Woodstock of Yesteryear: In my library in my home in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I am sitting with my pen in hand. Dropped from my fingers, upon the desk before me, is a letter from the Sentinel. It reads: "We desire a number of older residents of the city, long since removed to other localities, to participate in our anniversary issue, with a letter of (historical) incidents of early days as reviewed by memory." 'Long since removed to other localities, I quote, and now I am enumerating. It is 22 years since I left Woodstock and went to the University of Illinois and mother removed to Urbana with me until I graduated three years later. I have been back to Woodstock three times in the past eighteen years, the last time was ten years ago, when I spent three days in "The Old Home Town." Historical interest concerning Woodstock, brings the following to mind. I am a little girl, and my mother, Lena B. Seiler, is writing the history of the early German settlers of McHenry county for the Historical Society of Northern Illinois. Mother is taking notes while my grandfather, Frederick Bertschy, and his old friend, Peter J. Herdklotz, sit in their arm-chairs and visit. I am a small child and am listening. Grandpa Herdklotz, as we called him, is saying: "My brother and our sister came to Centerville (now Woodstock) in 1836. We located on what became Queen Ann Prairie. By day, we brothers felled trees preparatory to building a cabin and planting crops. At night, we brothers rested from our strenuous day's work, while our sister with an ax kept the wolves away. At the end of our first year in the cabin home, We got into a lumber wagon and followed an Indian trail to Fort Gawgo, an Indian fur trading post, and now the sight of Chicago, but which at that time was low marsh land on the banks of Lake Michigan. The moccasined prints followed the path of the present Northwestern railroad between Woodstock and Chicago. Your home here, Lainie (as he called mother) on Newell Street, was part of a thick forrest which was full Of wild life, wolves, wild turkey, and deer. Where the Oliver factory is located, was then a marsh lake. Here at evening time, on the banks, the Indians would lie with bow and arrow awaiting the deer which came out of the trees to drink at the water's edge." To which my grandfather, Fred Bertschy replies, "And thirty-three years later when I came here, the only wild life we ever saw, was an eagle which my son, George Bertschy, shot, and which measured six feet from wing tip to wing tip, and which Dr. Cook had mounted."
Woodstock Unchanged
To those who long ago removed from Woodstock, and who have seldom or never returned, the Woodstock of yesteryear has not changed. Absence for us has preserved the picture of our Woodstock. Our picture of those early scenes in Woodstock has not been confused or replaced by the scenes, sounds, and people, which make up the Woodstock of today.
Today, as I am thinking of Woodstock, I forget that I am a wife and a mother with a six-foot son and a daughter in high school, for when I remember Woodstock, I am a little girl. I would like once more to "drop in" and find the neighbors as I knew them in their homes in my childhood. Most of these friends are now passed into the Great Beyond, but because I left Woodstock before this happened, I think of them as they were in the old neighborhood, doing the daily tasks that they did when their lives made up a part of mine. Many are the people who have been well known and well loved in Woodstock, and whose faces were familiar as belonging to Woodstock but who are now, gone and because we were not there when they actually passed from the picture, to us who removed long since to other localities, they remain, as vivid in the scenes that we would recall of "The Old Home Town" as though the Great Law of Change had not been in effect during our years of absence. Those who were young with my brothers and me in Woodstock, remain so in my memory because I have seldom or never seen them since, and those who were adults in the prime of life then, remain so, and are still frequently the scenes and streets of the old town as they were then, although I know many are now with hushed voices, and lie under the silent shades in Oakland.
Childhood Memories
Sometimes, we who have been away so long, follow again in memory the paths we traveled back and forth so much as a child. There are many who will remember this period in Woodstock. For instance: It is a school day, and the "first bell" has rung. I am hippety-hopping on the brick walk on Clay Street. I am a little girl on my way to school and I see the eight-forty train for Chicago and Luman Hoy is getting on it. Now I am running past Wien's store and I see Lawyer Lumley hurrying up the steps to his office above it. I pass Art Mullen and Gene Hoy talking to Park Bunker, Delbert Wright and Emery Arnold. They are talking about college and athletics. I know, because I hear my brothers talk, too, about Eckersal, the great Chicago football player. I think "maybe some day my brothers will go to college." In front of the express office I see stiff forms of calves laid across weighing scales. Sometimes I go inside of the harness shop to the rear with Ada when she has to leave some shoes to be repaired by Mr. Hans Christiansen. Out in front of Dirrenberger's restaurant is the colored cook, Mr. Bates, in his white coat and round hat, he is sweeping the walk. Irwin comes out of the door and asks me where Ott is. At Kennedy's Grocery, Ed Kappler is carrying out a basket of orders and calling gid-dap to his horse. At Frank Bunker's fruit stand, Al Heywood looks very jolly in his apron as he polishes Arkansas Black apples. A bunch of bananas is in the window and some blue plums and crates of oranges, which make me think of my geography lesson about California. Next door, Ed Whitson is standing in the door and his brother, Bill Whitson, is hustling some tin and big shears into their wagon drawn by two sorrel horses. Someone needs hardware repairs. Near the window in Stone's Drug Store stand Mr. Ed. Stone looking so much like pictures of the late President Garfield. Down in the basement window, I see Bernie Sherman fixing a wheel and upstairs in Schneider & Eckert's barber shop, Mike Lehman is shaving a customer. Grandpa told me that the first bath tub in Woodstock was in this shop and for a quarter it could be rented. Charles Barnes comes down the stairs from his office, he is going up to the Court House. John Mullen is first going into the dry goods store and Phoebe Kappler has gone in before him to advance the millinery department. At the bank through the window, I see George Murphy. He has graduated from college and is liked by Woodstock people as has been Prince Edward by the English.
The clock hanging outside of Sherman's says I have plenty of time to get to school, so I go "around the square" instead of cutting through the park. My eyes linger a moment upon all the milk wagons with their horses hitched to the park chain, then I walk on. Louis Kapplar and Mr. Holmgren are cleaning the mud off the cross walks. Mr. Mead is arranging crisp vegetables in their grocery window, and Dr. Cutteridge is hurrying up the stairs to his dentist's office. I meet Charles Lemmers and Vinita is with him, they say "Good morning." At the corner area group of school boys talking to Jimmie Foreman who has a paper sack on his shoulder and is opening the door to his place. Just then Amelia Bier comes along, she speaks to me cheerfully. She is going into Choate's store where I follow her, to buy a spool of thread for mother to patch my brother's pants, (probably). Next door, as I pass, I see Anderson Murphy with his black cap on his head and today as I recall him, he makes me think of Cardinal Richelieu as was played by the late Mantel on the stage. Dr. Doolittle just drove up in his carriage in front of the drug store and tied his horse to a ring in the plank walk. His well groomed appearance is distinguished by his gotee. Now I am at Wright's drug store. Inside, Mr. Glazier is selling a tablet to a school child. Dr. Anderson, as he passes, with his doctor's case in land is saying good morning to Abe Still and Frank Hanaford. They are seated in chairs by the fire and talking to George Eckert, the sheriff. They are all "old soldiers." George Eckert, on his horse, always leads the Decoration Day parade and Abe Still leads the singing at the G.A.R-W.R.C. socials. Mother told me that Frank Hanaford with five others, tunneled his way out Andersonville prison where Wm. Cowlin lost his health while confined four years in the Civil War. A, S. Wright is just opening the door going into the drug store. He is dressed in a well pressed suit. Mr. Wright is an "old soldier" too but he looks so young that I can hardly believe it. Now I pass Bunker Brothers store and I see Dr. Lawrence going up to his dentist's office. Just then the "last bell" starts to ring so I run fast. I meet Reverend Sunderland. As I scamper along, I meet Mr. Bolger and I sober. He is the constable and I think "it would be terrible to get arrested." At the school corner I meet Judge and Mrs Gilmore. They speak and ask me how I am. At the corner Mrs. George Hoy comes along. She always looks pleasant like everything was all right. In the school yard, I pass Mr. Thorne and John Stafford. They are making a short cut to town. At school, as I arrive, on South Street, Jane Stanford is saying "left-right, left-right" and the high school girls' line is already marching up the big stone steps. The rest of us crowd up and mark time, while we listen to the big hula-ba-loo being made on the "boys' side." In our room, everybody is taking off their coats and hanging them in "the closet for their row" at the back of the room. There are so many coats the doors won't stay shut and some of the coats fall from the over-loaded hooks. It seems cold in the room and one of the boys takes the long pole and pushes shut the four top windows at the back. Just then Mr. Hart comes in and the room gets in order in a hurry as he leaves a note on the teacher's desk and goes out. While she reads it, there is a hub-bub in the room added to the noise of the thumping, knocking steaming radiators. Dora Delamere is kindly and we like her. Yesterday she had us bring our dinners and we ate them sitting in a circle about her desk. What I learned in that grade, I can't recall but this extra activity in the curriculum has stayed with me. When the noon factory whistle is blowing, Marguerite Zimplemann and I are running to get to Murphy's drug store first to ask for a new calendar. Just as we leave there, we meet Ada Parsons. She tells us to come to practice Saturday for the "Chrysanthemum Show." Grandpa is teaching Marguerite and me a French song and we are to sing it in costume. Marguerite was my inseparable companion in those years. I have seen her once in the last 25 years. That was fifteen years ago in Santa Ana, California, when I spent the day with her in her home among palms and fruit trees. We have our calendar now and are racing to the call window at the Post Office on Benton Street. Jimmie Brink hands me a letter. We scamper along and bump into the factory men who are endeavoring to hurry home to dinner and get back to their Work in an hour. At the railroad crossing, George Powell in his tower has let down the gates and a big freight with a snow shovel on the front of the engine thunders by. On the top of the cars, run brakemen to turn the wheelbrakes on the corners of the car tops. There were no convenient air brakes then. They throw their arms around their waists and beat their hands together to keep warm.
I am a little girl and wonder how they can walk on those slippery freight cars, especially when the train is moving. When the train is past, a big crowd has collected and we all hurry along now. A big team is hauling some cords of wood to somebody. Their feet slip on the snow as they try to start their load. Further down the street, I see A. F. Field locking his coal office and his three spotted pointers patiently wait him. Unpretentious in his daily dealings, Mr. Field was big in his attitude toward others in his community. Many a home would have shivered if this man had demanded his rights when they were due him.
At Sherwood's corner, I separate from Marguerite and run past Judge Donnelly walking home from Court with his crutch. Mr. Donnelly was never too occupied to speak to a child and I answer and run on past Donnelly's picket fence to let my hand run over the pickets as I pass along. Had it been summer, I would have walked it as that was one of the pleasurable risks of childhood then. Across the street, Emil Arnold is just going into their home for dinner and Emery is with him. Emery called to me that he wants to see my brother, George, and I say to him "I'll tell him." As I turn into our yard, I see Michael Senger at the corner priming their pump with hot water. I can see steam as he pours. He will pump some fresh drinking water for dinner.
Blessed Home
The sacred pictures of Home, Brothers, Mother, now confronts me. My mind would fain dwell upon this scene through it. Woodstock is securely woven in my heart. That picture of Mother and my brothers and myself with them seems a very natural mingling and yet it is 23 years since we last were together in that home. On my way back to school, Ada Johnson is with me and we giggle all the way. About what? I don't know unless it is the sheer joy of living which is childhood's gift. I have to stop on in errand to our neighbor, Fred Schneider, who is in bed with a broken leg. On our way, Ada and I meet Emil Pfeiffer. He says to us, "That's right, girls, laugh and be merry, school days are the happy time." Marguerite joins us at the corner. She says, "We are going to have electric lights in Woodstock." I say "Mike Snyder won't have to go around nights then to light the lanterns on the lamp posts all over town. Ada says, "Those electric bulbs won't ever be so pretty as is the rose-globe lamps Mrs. Knutson has in her parlor. To which Marguerite concludes, "No, but there won't be any more Saturday job of polishing smoked lamp chimneys." Ada asks me then if we are going to have a phone. I tell her, "Yes Uncle Adolph Bertschy is putting one in our house because he works for the telephone company." Ada says, "It will only, make your grandpa swear. That's what phones do to all men." I asked her why and Ada answers, "Because they can't hear what the person talking to them is trying to say."
Just then the fire whistle starts to blow and Ed. Hanaford's big grey team are turned into race horses as they run with the dray toward the city hall. When they get there, the men are already hitching Frank Hanaford's bay team to the hook and ladder wagon and away they go with all the boys and dogs in town shouting and barking after them. Everybody has come out of the stores and "The Square" is full of excitement and people. Ada says to me, "There'll be a lot of tardies this noon. Don't you wish it was May Day and school was almost out and we were going after school to pick cowslips for May baskets."
Marguerite says, "Erna and I always pick them in Blakeslee's slough. Arnolds keep their cows in that pasture and so do Pfeiffers and Sengers." That pasture is the sight of the present Woodstock Typewriter Factory. Now we meet Dr. Windmueller, he is going into his office in back of Hoy's Drug Store, he speaks to us all. Marguerite and Ada both say, "He is our doctor," to which I answer, "he is ours too, but I am mad at him; he promised to bring us the next baby he got, and last week he walked right by our house with his big case and left a baby at Asmus'." Next we meet George Hunt and his wife. They have just come from Sole's Restaurant under the express office and Mr. Hunt is wiping his ears and coatsleeve and Mrs. Hunt is laughing. She says, "The waitress spilled Mr. Hunt's dinner on him today," and Mr, Hunt says to us, "Little early for corn "on the ear" don't you think so, girls." We all laugh, and Marguerite walks on with them. Ada comes with me. I have to go into Renich and Harts Grocery to order some flour for mother to bake bread. The small town grocery, in those years, had its own smell. It was of coffee, cheese, vinegar, or pickles and kerosene dominating and was blended with many other separate flavors, which the differentiating nose could easily distinguish. But none of these smells are unpleasant to Ada or me. They have a pleasant conation and are associated with lickorish candies, gum drops, carmels, and pyramid cream chocolates so dear to the palate of any child. As we turn to leave the store, Mr Stark Hart calls to us, "Wait a minute," and our salivary glands secrete readily as Ada and I see him reach in the candy case to give us a handful of these goodies. These separate smells which I have mentioned, blended by old associations of "The Old Home Town" became cherished by the olfactory nerves of the small town child. In after years, more aristocratic odors that should have been savory compared, have failed to register so agreeably.
Now I have to stop at the Volks-blatt in the top of the Renich building. The paper is printing the stories which Mother writes about the early German settlers. Mr. Metzger asks me if grandpa is coming to town. I tell him he is going to Blind man Merton's for a while and will probably be over afterwards. After school I see the Penny Mites ladies sewing in Larry Jones' office in the city hall. As I run through the park, I see Mrs. Bagley with her father, Mr. Furer, and I meet and speak to Old Mr. Hoy, who has been down to the bank talking with his son, George Hoy. Further on, I meet Mrs. John Mullen and she reminds me that I haven't come to see her for a long time. I tell her I will come some day when Emma Peiffer goes to take her piano lesson with Miss Agnes Quinlan. While we talk, Mr. Northrup and Jay walk by toward Judd Street and cross the street. I see Garry decorating the Window in Austin's grocery and Mr. Austin is standing close by. I go into Stone's shoe store. Mr. Stone tells me that I am growing and need a whole size larger rubber. Mrs. Nettie Judd comes in and Mr. Donovan waits on her at the bank. Mrs. Judd, to me, was the prettiest lady in Woodstock when I was a child. Charles Stone is in the shoe store and I see Mr. Christiansen repairing shoes as I go out the side door and run on past Merton's.
Chicago Fire
Mr. Schaff and Fred Eppel are in there, as is also grandpa, so I go in. They are talking about the Chicago fire in 1871. Mother has told me that Mr. Merton lost his business and his eyesight in the great fire and but for his blindness would be a smart businessman in Chicago as he is a graduate of Heidelbergh University in Germany. I hear my grandfather saying, "Yes we could see the fire sometimes from the Court House and the smoke was all round us at times at my farm north of town." Mr. Merton gets up and feels his way around the candy-counter to get me a "marshmallow fish" and a "black jaw-breaker." Mr. Merton knew the way to a child's heart. I thank him for the candy and run out. As I pass Caskey's livery barn, I notice Rudolph, Howard Burger, and Raymond Pfeiffer in there with Earl. They are watching Mr- Caskey hitch up a horse and carriage for a traveling man. As Rudolph sees me he comes up and says, "I wish I could travel like that fellow they are hitching that horse for. Why! that fellow is going to Ridgefield yet tonight." I ask Rudolph how far Ridgefield is and he says, "Six miles." Across the street, we can hear words of a forceful character coming from the Griebel Brothers' repair shop. Howard, Raymond and Rudie run over but I don't follow. Ed and Albert are both lying under Dr. Windmueller's auto and getting it in shape for spring-use. Beside a thrash-engine in the shop stand two farmers who are conversing in absolute terms. Outside as I wait for Rudie I hear: "Those horseless carriages won't ever amount to anything, are in the shop more than they are on the road. Ought to run them things off the roads, ain't safe anymore to ride behind a horse with them autos scaring the critters into the ditch!" To which the other farmer replies, "Well the Doc gets over the country at a great lick with it when the weather is good. Hippers 'along at the rate of twelve miles an hour, stopped at our place once at midnight for water for the boiler. Doc said, "Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I've gone nearly ten miles and the thing needs water.'"
At Kappler's corner on Brewery Street as it was then called, I see Mrs. Lehmann. She has a bouquet of chrysanthemums. While I talk to her, Charley Renich comes by and tells me he wants to see Ott about a job at the Sentinel. I watch Mr. Renich go up Main Street and his coat blows in the wind and he is waving 'hello" to somebody all the time.
Without Charley Renich, Woodstock could never be the same. In the town and reaching out into McHenry county he has been the man with David
Larum's human qualities. Like his sister, Lottie, he has lived with and for others and enjoyed life while it was being done. That is a Renich trait, Kate and Mary were no different, to know a Renich was to have a friend.
As I hurry past the depot, I see Otto and George going, down Clay Street toward home but I have to wait for the milk-train to switch its cars before I have a chance to run after them. As I walk on toward home, I meet Aunt Josie Zimpelmann. She is walking fast, this was just natural she walked no other way. She is carrying a loaf of bread, and it is still warm. She didn't say so, but I could smell the delicious flavor as she passed. The grave necessity of dying or being born was made easier in Woodstock if Aunt Josie was present and today I am wondering to whose assistance she was going that day. Sometimes she went to "lay out" the dead and sometimes it was someone whom she had bathed, maybe years before at birth.
When I reached home, Mother sent me on an errand to Reverend Hay. Erma Sylvester and Susie Cowlin went with me. As we came through his dormant, snow-laden vineyard, we saw him standing in his back yard with a man. A cord of wood was piled close by and Mr. Hay had just given half of the cord away. That evening, I went with Mother to Uncle Johnny Zimplemann's. In his green house he was clipping carnations, ferns, and smilax, while Mother helped my Aunt weave the flowers into a wreath. How many such wreaths from Uncle Johnny Zimpelmann's greenhouse brought comfort to homes in Woodstock. When Mother and I went home, we saw the northern lights streaking across the heavens. From our back upstairs window, my brothers and I watched the electrical display while Mother explained the phenomena to us. When I am tucked in the feather bed the nine o'clock whistle blows and I hear the creak-crunch of the snow as it crushes under the feet of the passing factory men whose hours of work started that morning at seven.
This is not just one day, one trip to town, but like Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer which he said was not one boy but a combination of several boys, my trip to town is a cross section of a number of trips, and I have enumerated only a fragment of the tender memories of my Woodstock. Sincerely, ERNA SEILER MOOTE.
JOHN J. SULLIVAN [photo] Above picture is that of John J. Sullivan, who for many years prior to his death was one of Hartland township's most successful farmers. He was born November 1,1824, in County Cork, Ireland, and came to the United States in 1845, settling in Hartland township. For 56 years Mr. Sullivan made his home in Hartland township, moving to Woodstock in November, 1910. He died December 1, 1910, at the home of his son, J. J. Sullivan, in this city. He had celebrated his 86th birthday prior to his death. Mr. Sullivan was one of the early tillers of the soil in McHenry county. Farming during his early life, did not have all the conveniences of today, but this did not hinder him from successfully operating his farm and raising a family of two boys and two girls. He was one of the pioneer settlers of Hartland township and helped much in the early upbuilding of the farming community in which he lived. Hartland for many years, was made up mostly of people of Irish decent and this held true up until just recent years. The picture above is a typical likeness of him. His kindly spirit, his love for his home and family won for him a host of friends which was clearly demonstrated at the last rites held for him from the Catholic church in the largest funerals ever held from the church. One son, Patrick H. Sullivan and one daughter, Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes have followed him in death. One son, John J. Sullivan, and one daughter, Mrs. Catherine Williams, both of Woodstock, survive him.
ALOIS DREYER [photo] Born in Kleinlitzel, near Basil, Switzerland, Mar. 11, 1855, Alois Dreyer came to America with his parents and two younger sisters in 1872, after having spent his earlier years in school and graduating from four years in High school, and after having taken training for three years in learning the sadler's and upholstery trade. Coming to Woodstock in 1873, his busy, energetic, helpful and useful life was an inspiration to the many friends that he rapidly and surely acquired. His first employment was with the late E. R. Bird, long a harness dealer in this city, where he spent 10 years as a valued and respected employee. In 1883 he opened a shop for himself on Main street and there remained until increasing business demanded a better location, when he moved to the Furer building on Benton street, where he spent a busy life until fatal illness overtook him and he was called to eternal rest and felicity. In 1879 Mr. Dreyer took for his wife Marie Stein, a sister of Mrs. Fred Renich and William and Charles Stein, who were engaged in the hardware business in Woodstock for several years. One son was the result of this union—Alois the 3rd—who, after graduating from the local school, engaged in the handling of bulbs and flowers and passed away in the blush of early manhood, greatly to the grief of his relatives and of his many friends. Mr. Dreyer Was appointed a member of the public'library board in 1890 by Mayor Richards and for two terms was a member of the board of education, where his expert knowledge and keen perceptions made him a valuable member of this important body. He was also a member of the Maennerchor, that old-German singing society, that was so valued by the people in the 70's, and for more than a dozen years he was the leader of the Presbyterian choir, and under his direction this choir gained a reputation for producing high-class music for the pleasure and edification of those who worshipped there. Whether in solo or quartet or chorus, his melodious tenor voice added much to the effectiveness of all public occasions that specialized the service of song. On Jan. 3, 1899, Mr. Dreyer laid down life's burdens and ceased his useful life at his home in Woodstock, following several surgical attempts to prolong his existence, and all agreed that the world was better for his having lived in it. In speaking of his life his biographer had this to say: "Mr. Dreyer was a man of simple tastes and worthy aspirations. He was unostentatious and courted not notoriety. In his home he was the embodiment of kindness; in business he was unwaveringly honest and marvelously energetic; in society he was modest and unassuming, always exemplifying the sturdy virtues acquired in the land of his nativity. He was kind-hearted, obliging and sincere, and once his conscience dictated to him the right, his iron will invariably led him in that direction. Fearless in the expressions of his convictions, his fellows respected his opinions and honored him because they felt that he was one of Nature's noblemen, who could at all times be trusted in whatever position he was placed."
Mrs. Dreyer passed away on Dec. 27, 1925, following a widowhood of more than a quarter of a century.
FRED MARKUS [photo] MRS. FRED MARKUS [photo] Mr. and Mrs. Fred Markus were Germans who came to Woodstock in the years following the Civil war. We have no records stating the exact date. Mr. Markus was in the saloon business in the building called the "Rathole," on the corner where the State Bank is now located. One of his best known products, which had a wide favorable reputation, was the famous 'Markus' Bitters." Mr. and Mrs. Markus lived in a modest home located on Calhoun street where Elmer Carlson's second hand store now is. They were great lovers of flowers and during the summer their entire front yard, was a complete garden show of beautiful blossoms. The house was well back from the street and there was no room for lawn as the entire front yard was filled with beds of flowers of the Markus' own planting and cultivation. Mr. Markus was an early riser and spent hours and hours among the flowers he loved so dearly. In those "horse and buggy" days the average family "took a walk" on Sunday, and the route of the family parade almost invariably led past the Markus home, where friends would stop for awhile to chat and admire the beauty of the natural display. Mr. Markus was very public spirited in many ways and took a prominent part in local affairs. In 1893 the block burned where the Markus business was located. Following this disaster Mr. and Mrs. Markus moved to Chicago, where they spent their declining years in retirement.
MICHAEL GRIEBEL [photo] MRS. MICHAEL GRIEBEL [photo] Prominent and successful Hartland farmer, where he at one time operated 476 acres of fine prairie land. This fine farm was recently sold to a prominent Chicagoan. Michael Griebel was born August 23, 1834, in France, came to America at 19 years of age, where he found employment on a farm. Worked first year at $8 a month. After three years he rented a farm and some years later he bought 130 acres to which he added more land until he owned 476 acres. He was married in 1865 to Margaret Zimpleman. They had five children. In 1911 Mr. Griebel retired and moved to Woodstock, where he died in 1920.

Eightieth Anniversary Edition WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK, ILLINOIS PAGE THREE
REMINISCING LETTER WRITTEN BY LATE CHAS.F.DACY A Reminiscing Letter The following letter was written the past fall, by the late Chas. F. Dacy, who on Jan. 19, 1937, passed away in Washington, D. C, where he had gone from his home in Asheville, N. Carolina, to visit his son and wife, Mr. and Mrs. John Dacy and their young child.
Asheville, N. Car. Dear Woodstock Friends:
Looking backwards through the years it seems hardly possible that I might recall events and happenings of fifty-five years ago, but such is the fact, so I guess I am growing old and probably am classed as a Woodstock "old timer." My earliest recollection of Woodstock or of myself was going with my father, T. J. Dacy, to the fire ruins of Hunt's lumber yard and a livery stable on Jefferson street. We then went over to the Perry Murphy brick house, where I was born and which father used as a shop; it was on the site of McConnell Implement Co. This must have been in 1875 or '76 before I was stricken with infantile paralysis, for I could not walk for a long time thereafter. I remember a "monster" 4th of July, celebration some time prior to 1880. There was a big parade in the morning and my father had in it dozens of Warrior mowers loaded on wagons, also some drawn by horses, as well as Johnson reapers revolving, as at work, and in the evening residences and business house windows were illuminated with candles stuck on lath, and fastened inside windows. I am sure of this for I went with father to our warehouse where he replaced burned out candles and to guard against fire. The population of Woodstock in those days was about nine hundred and almost everybody knew every man, woman, child, and even dog in town. An accident or a sudden death was a cause of genuine regret to all and was talked about for days afterwards. A friendly, kindly spirit seemed to possess all the people. How different it was from the cold indifference of most everyone today towards his fellow man: "Each for himself and the devil take the hindmost."
Recalls Old Times I well remember the Salisbury Bros., E. W. Blossom, J. C. Choate, William Sanford, Thos. Whitson, E. E. Thomas, Jack Leidig, John Medlar, Asa Smith, Ben Smith, Joseph Johnson, my uncle J. H. Slavin, D. W. Robinson, E. E. Dike, W. B. Austin, Allen Giles, John Short, Fred Marcus, R. C. Jefferson and his father, Mr. Nixon, Alec McNorton, Thomas Maher, A. Dreyer, Fred Renich, Mr.Lemmers, Sr., J. K. Wheat, Nelson and Garvis Blakeslee, T. D. Murphy, Henry Waite, Alvin Judd; Ira Slocum, Ed Furer, John Bunker, William Smith, Doctors Green, Davis, Nbrthrup, Buck, Bennett, Stone and Cook, all of whom are long since deceased, I believe. Each and all of them were always friendly and courteous to me. I also remember Fathers Carroll, Leyden, and Clancy and Revs. Todd, Harry B. Long, Boggess (?); Erngey, and of course numerous others who have died within recent years. The first momentous event in my life as portrayed on memory's tablets "(C.A.L.)" was the destruction by fire of my father's ware-house and the Jefferson elevator on March 5th, 1880. I recall that I stood on Hoy's drug store corner, crying wildly and exclaiming, "the beautiful wagons, machines, and plows are burning up."
No Supervised Play
The youth of today with their varied amusements and restlessness could never imagine the dullness of children's lives in a small town in those days. There was hardly any amusement except what we improvised ourselves,—no picture shows, radios, telephones, autos, bicycles.
We had only the Fourth of July, circus day and the county fair to look forward to and we really derived a lot of pleasure from them.
What a thrill it was (to me at least) to visit the old abandoned Barrows Planing Mill on Washington St., the old Quinlan Flour Mill (a great abode of tramps) on the same street, and the old Foundry on the site of Nester and Merwin buildings, to examine and wonder about the silent machinery and power plans and handle the different tools.
Also it was a pleasure to visit the big Pickle Factory, where "Larry" Jones once gave me a large salt pickle which I devoured with great relish; also on the way to school to skip in the front door and out the side door of the Flouring Mill which then operated in the Kellog block across from the City Hall. The most thrilling enjoyment of the, "gang" was the reading of nickle and dime novels, surrepticiously of course. After we had read one we would trade with another boy, and believe me they circulated until they were in tatters. I recall my favorite, "Frank Reed and His Steam Man of the Plains."—a gigantic steam man which walked into bands of Indians and bandits and completely obliterated them. How strange that a few years later came the steam and gas propelled automobiles! I well recall that every few days I traded two 3c stamps for a new novel and a stick of candy at a certain news stand, (wonder where I got the stamps). There was nothing much to sharpen a kid's wits in those days, and I wonder that so many successful business men developed from our gang. I remember one time that I desired a sling shot but couldn't raise the price of the 10c rubbers. I did have a Velocipede with one decrepit wheel, however, so I offered it to "Ted" Joslyn for a sling shot of which he had several; not wishing to take "advantage" of a poor kid like me, he offered me two, but I would take only one.
McHenry County Fair
The high light each year was the "Great McHenry County Fair." I recall the visit (I think it was in 1884) of the "Black Eagle," General John A. Logan, vice-presidential candidate. This visit to our fair was due to the influence of an old army friend of the General, A. S. Wright, who was then Secretary of the Fair Association. I doubt if there has been as large a crowd in Woodstock since that day.
Political Rallys
The Blaine and Logan and Cleveland and Hendricks campaign of the same year afforded us considerable excitement, what with great rallys, speech making and long torch light processions, and bountiful barbeques in the park, prepared, by George Bachman as chef, and "Pinstone" as helper and "entertainer," so-to-speak. Many men expressed their affiliation to one party or the other by wearing, instead of the small buttons used today, a regular brass sign about half inch high with letters cut out for a full name Cleveland or Blaine. I obtained a Blaine sign somehow, hence was a Republican, but soon traded with Bill Adams or "Snooks" Medlar for a Cleveland badge because it appeared more showy to me. If my venerable grandfather, Neill Donnelly, an hereditary and consistent Democrat along with Richard Bishop, who held the party together for many hopeless years, could have lived a few months longer to know that at last the Democratic party had elected a president, how happy he would have been.
Recalls School Days I was going to write about the class I accompanied through school, but I guess the least said about that the better. There were eight "Charlies" in the class as well as many other "play boys," most of whom made life miserable lor the teachers. The morale of the school was very good except one year when we had a principal, who had only two fingers on his right hand and who wore a pair of carpet slippers and a long brown dressing gown during school hours. Two teachers came from his part of the country, it was reported, and riot raged in their rooms most of the time. The three werA missing the next year. In passing I want to pay a tribute of love and affection to the memory of two noble women, Alice Blakeslee and Jennie Schryver, who were the best teachers I ever studied under. They were patient, kindly, and thorough in their work, and were sweet, lovable women. Shortly before our fire, "Heme" Ringland, Earl Murphy, Frank Medlar, "Dad" Giles, and several others including a couple of girls, left for Cary, where a boat which the boys had built, had been teamed to the river by Pat Muldoon. The bunch spent the night in the water tank house and next morning intended to embark for New Orleans. Before morning, however, the irate fathers arrived, smashed the boat, and thus another voyage of discovery was nipped in the bud.
Notable Fires In the early 80's there were several mysterious fires in the business district—three in the Stafford building and three in the old Phoenix (now Kellogg) block, the latter being completely gutted twice. In 1886 the old brewery was completely destroyed by fire and the fine new brewery burned in 1902. I cannot place definitely the date of the "Rat Hole" fire (probably '85 or '86) which cleaned out old buildings from the State Bank corner to Stafford's store, including the Universalist church. This event made possible the partial building of a better Woodstock for it was a good riddance of a great eye sore. The only fire fighting equipment was the big Button Hand Power engine which required about 40 or 50 men to work it properly and it was a hard matter to induce enough volunteers to man the brakes. At one fire Judge Joslyn, then mayor, ordered several arrested for refusing to pump. This was the same engine, about which, after it had been useless at a recent fire, a certain alderman proposed a resolution in the City Council: "That 30 days before each fire the engine be tested and put in good working condition."
The water supply was pumped by wind-mills from wells into three enormous tanks, two on Calhoun street and one on Throop street; several cisterns located in residential sections and two in the park were filled through hose stretched on the streets. Any large fire exhausted the available supply of water and it took days to replenish it. How different from simply attaching hose to a fire plug as is done in these days. But don't forget that the old firemen with their hand pumper fought and controlled some very bad fires. Another blessing to Woodstock was the destruction by fire (about '90 or '91) of most of Main Street except Stone Shoe Store, which finally vacated the best business lot in the city through fire last year.
Woodstock Still "Home"
Those readers who remember Judge Joslyn will recall his determination to do anything he set out to do, and should thank him for the City Hall and Opera House which he built, in spite of the great opposition of the tax payers, when he was mayor about 1889. Otherwise you would still be going to "Murphy's Hall" to attend shows and lectures in all probability. The same might be said about A. K. Bunker, the leader of the committee, who raised the money for the Pump Factory which was built about 1890 and later developed into the great Oliver Plant which more than doubled the population and brought great prosperity to all for many years. For this my dear friend, John Whitworth, was largely responsible, as the plant would have left town on at least one occasion were it not for his influence with Lawrence Williams, the president, not to consider offers from other cities for removal of the plant. I have driven through hundreds of towns between Asheville, Washington and Chicago several times and I have never seen a small town more attractive than Woodstock when last I was there three years ago. It is well kept and looks prosperous and alive and is inhabited by a friendly, loving people. Had not the illneSS of Mrs. Dacy made it necessary to move to this climate, I would be gracefully growing old in dear old Woodstock with my two fine sons associated in the lumber yard. C. F. DACY, Asheville, N. C.
Two Picnic Scenes in a Greenwood Woodlot About 25 Years Ago [photo] Woodstock citizens enjoying a happy day in the woods. How many of them can you name?
Lettie Cummins [photo], Early Teacher Here Sends Felicitations
LETTIE CUMMINS HAYES Denver, Colo. Dear Friends: I have many pleasant recollections of my school days in Woodstock, and having taught in the public school for eight consecutive years, beginning September, 1876, there are many of my former pupils who may be interested in knowing that I am "hale and hearty," although I passed my eightieth birthday last November, 1936, "Age is a quality of mind," and the best test of age is our habit of thought. It is with pleasure that I recall the names of Chas. F. Renich and Chas. A. Lemmers, both former pupils of mine, and of high standing, as their present responsibility testifies. To all my friends I send greetings. May the years deal kindly with you! Sincerely, LETTIE CUMMINS HAYES. 1320 East 25th Ave., Denver, Colo.
Bessie Murphey Sends Greetings From Atlanta. Atlanta, Ga. Aug. 3, 1936. Editor The Sentinel: Woodstock! What memories it recalls! Father's old store, where a telephone girl in the back could listen in on politics and acquire a taste for it that lasted; the old school house, with the long horse block in front for the girls to sit on and gossip until the last bell rang; the old pump and the cups that hung by a chain (no germs in those days.) Then the Congregational church, with its Reed pipe organ, and when the Todd boys came to church we had a full choir. Along came a dream that materialized into a parsonage, new church with beautiful windows, one by Mrs. Joslyn's class of boys, a pipe organ, too, and as lovely as if one a much larger scale. All the girls and boys who had "gym" in the old armory under Rev. Roy B. Guild, thank him for the good times we had there. I know I could do the wand drill now and swing Indian clubs, though his large black ones quite out-shone ours in his fancy exhibitions. Picnics, swims and camping at Crystal Lake made up the crowd's growing years. I wonder yet if I helped with the dishes enough for my share when the boys arrived on moonlight nights and the lake beckoned. How glad we were that "Ma" Wright had only one good ear and agreed to lie on it to sleep! We have visited the Shermans in California many times since and always begin where we left off, even though Lynn has been grandpa three times and Cliff has a tall daughter who also will never know exactly how "The Bird on Nellie's Hat" should be sung. As they took us to the lovely mausoleum in Glendale last June and we saw "Ma" Sherman's grave, my mind went back to many orchestra rehearsals at her apartment and how it felt like home always to us all. One can never forget "Pinafore" under Johnny Carroll, with its many rehearsals and thrills. The stars on Broadway never had more. Then Forty-Five Minutes From Broadway under Clint Jones and the Ladies' minstrels. I never hear Little Cotton Dolly, but I see again the little nigger doll in a high chair that rolled his eyes as we sang, nor hear the "Glow Worm" but I hear, as plain as day, Winnie Curtis, lovely contralto, in the obligato. Years have flown, but no matter where I live I realize you belong to your home town as you do to your mother. She is yours if sorrow comes and her pride, if you are successful, doubles your joy.
I wonder if Woodstock old-timers realize what a comfort they are? We know you are still there to make it seem like home and we gladly return whenever life grants us the privilege. BESSIE MURPHEY ALLEN.
The Oliver Typewriter Fire Department 30 Years Ago [photo]
(Continued on Page 4)

PAGE FOUR
WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK, ILLINOIS Eightieth Anniversary Edition
ROBERT H. GILLMORE, SON OF OLD JUDGE, TELLS Of BOYHOOD
Dear Friends:'
It's very pleasant to look back at Woodstock through "the golden haze of bygone days," but it is quite another thing to say any part of what you see, when you want to put it on paper. Those school days with Miss Frey, Miss Fillmore, Miss Young, Miss McDowell, Miss Renich, and Mr. Hart and Mr. Churchill (for the latter was something of a playground supervisor) "Beanie" Bunker and "Dutch" Richards, "Dutch" Joorfetz and "Hank" Hoesley, Leslie Stone and George Hyde, Elmer Gibson, Dale Floyd and George Vermilya, Floyd Woodard and Alfred Holmgren—what a bunch!
And the battles to keep the class flag flying at the top of the old school house tower. And pom-pom pull-away in the back yard. And finally the baseball and football games with Beloit and Lake Geneva and Elgin ond Rochelle. And the,wrath of Vinita Lemmers when the music teacher called her "Veniter." The struggles of Miss Orr to instill an appreciation of the language we are supposed to use daily; Emma Witwen, who endeavored nobly to innoculate the class with German and Latin, after Luverne Cutting had passed to other fields. Charley Barnes and his silk hat, and his chestnut team, and his red Rambler, the race between Barnes in his Rambler and Olson in his Winton with "Perce" Barnes crouching on the running board giving it "body English."
Our old family clock "out in California" has the initials "M. S. 1896" inside the lid, recording a cleaning and repair job at the skillful hand of "Yankee" Sherman. And Cliff, now leading the Los Angeles Shrine band and Lynn helping him toot on big occasions. Dr. Doolittle (the younger) coming to the house on the corner, where the Lutheran parsonage now stands, in the snowy wintry weather; Elder Hay and his wealth of kindly suggestion and consolation. Mother answering the phone and saying: "No, this is not Father Gilmartin's, this is Father Gillmore's!" Aggie Quinlan singing "Annie Laurie." Judge Gillmore speaking on public occasions. Frank Belcher blowing the Company G bugle. Captain Field, Lieutenant Miner; the roar of ground arms when drill was being held at the old armory. Riding our bicycles to Crystal Lake to swim. George Hoy pulling fish off the set lines and telling the other boats what great fishing he was having. Mr. Merton feeling for the money on his candy counter. Squire Lindsay, the Knapps, the Fred Perkins, the Desmonds, Will Wire, county superintendent of schools: Earl Ellsworth winning the bicycle races; George Dacy in the first pair of track pants to appear in McHenry cqunty.
And finally memory vividly brings back a certain night in January, 1918 when the Murphy hall was as cold as the sub-zero weather outside and one pane of glass was missing from the top of one of the front windows, all to the vast discomfort of an Entered Apprentice Mason.
Those are some of the memories. M. D. Hoy and Mrs. Hoy, T. McD. Richards; Dr. Anderson, Rev. Sunderlin—they keep coming and they would go on all day—Mrs. McConnell, Lena McConnell, Will and his Shepard dogs, Susie Sinclair McConnell, the Kimball girls, "Lish" Austin, Bart Austin, John Stafford, then Frank and Susie Streets went to Oregon and Elmer and Mrs. Bagley; and there were the Murphey twins, and Mrs. Kindt and Mary and Louise and "Bill Scharnau" and the Zimpelmans.
And were you there, Charley, when the brewery burned down? or the Rabbitry? Do you remember how we burned the new electric lights all night before they would get the meter in? And old Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, the old negro couple out near the Fair Grounds. And Fanny Belle Greenwood. Casa De Paga Gold Mining company, Chauncey Hill and "Tan Tan." Charley Lemmers and the old Sentinel and the McHenry County Republican. Charley Lemmers singing in the choir. And Whittleton and Walsh and the Harvard Herald, and Mallory of Crystal Lake. What an old home week! ROBERT H. GILLMORE.
Niece of "Corporal Jack" Darrell Sends Greetings. Dear Editor:
I am writing in response to your request for a brief article about my family as a contribution to the special edition of your paper.
Permit me to say that I never appreciated the valuable service of a local paper to a community as I did when I visited your office seeking information about events which happened in the lives of members of my family before I was born. I am the great-granddaughter of Bela Darrell and Matilda Baird Darrell and the niece of Bela, Charles, Henry, and "Corporal Jack" Darrel, whose memory I found green and treasured in the minds and hearts of many of his townsmen still living. My knowledge of the early history of my family is incomplete due to the loss of family records. The Darrell family migrated to Illinois in the '50s, paused briefly in Chicago and settled in McHenry county, where they lived, worked, enlisted in the Civil war, died and where they rest in the beautiful little cemetery. Many of the graves are marked by the Legion's flag of service. A family tradition is that my grandfather, coming home one day early in the period of the Civil war, said: "Mother, Abe Lincoln is calling for volunteers. The boys and I must go." Grandmother replied, "But, Father, aren't you past military age?" Grandfather blazed: "That makes no difference. I can volunteer."
As he went out of that little home with three of his sons, he turned to the youngest son, 16 years of age, and said, "Jack, you stay home and take care of mother and the girls." Jack stayed home two days; then he drove the team to town and tied them to a post in front of the court house and rushed away to join his father and brothers, lied about his age and got into the war. He was made a bugler and continued to the end of the war. It is said that he was always called upon to play the bugle at the reunions and that several governors of the state had congratulated him upon his bugling. One of the uncles was captured by the Confederates and spent several months in Libby prison. When he was furloughed home he walked around to the rear of the cottage where his mother was working in her garden. He remained silent. She looked up, did not recognize this grey, emaciated, middle-aged appearing man. She asked, "what can I do for you?" He answered, "Mother, don't you know your own son ?" She cried out and almost fainted.
The story of my family suggests the life and struggles and hardships pf the pioneers who grubbed the trees, drained the swamps, conquered the soil, built the roads, homes, schools and churches and made possible our comfortable, secure living. One of the brothers lost his life soon after the war from shipwreck and freezing on the lake. Another lost his life in a railroad accident. My grandfather was helping a contractor move a building. Thinking that the jack screws needed adjusting, he went under the building. The screws slipped and he was crushed. Your editor remembers seeing his body as it was brought into the court house. One of the daughters married James Cushman Breslau, a war artist, and spent several years on the stage playing Shakespearian and tragedy parts. After Mr. Breslau's death she married James A. Fair, theatrical manager and later with the Chicago Tribune. This was my mother, and mother of Clarice Breslau Botay.
One of "Corporal Jack's" sons resides in Eldon, Missouri—-Alex Darrell; another is a distinguished chemist in Philadelphia, Penn. The daughters—Anna, Bertha and Mabel—married respectively, Edward Haffner. Hawthorne, Calif.; C. M. Blethen, Long Beach, Calif., and another, Bertha, died a few years ago. Mrs. Miriam Howell, of Woodstock, is one of the granddaughters. The family was marked by vital, joyous, active, kindly living, profound patriotism, humor and kindliness, combined with an irrepressible zest for fun. I felt a sense of affection, pride, and kinship in Woodstock. Mv family was fairly typical of the vigorous pioneer stock. I deeply appreciated the quiet kindliness tho Woodstock people extended to me on the occasion of my recent visit when I came to be with my sister, Mrs. Clarice Breslau Botay, for 50 years a resident and friendly neighbor in the Twin Lakes section.
Very truly yours, GERTRUDE BRESLAU FULLER. Assistant Director the State Museum of Pennsylvania at Harrisburg.
A Bevy of Feminine Beauties in Former Years [photo] Top row: Bessie Wiley Clark, Emma Flavin Huntzinger, Edith Johnston, Katherine Bolger, Ruth Lee McCauley, Lulu Medlar. Bottom row: Maud Hanaford, Kate Sullivan, Edith Kirk, Bessie Wright Copeland, Lizzie Sullivan.
MEMORIES OF WOODSTOCK BY AN OLD TIME By MORNA A. MUMF0RD "Beauty and knowledge and faith Constancy, love and truth—These are a few of the Gods I worshiped in my youth. What,after years do I love After busy years passing o'er? Beauty and knowledge and truth And the friends that I loved before."
It seems to me that no child could ask for a pleasanter environment in which to grow up than the pleasant, patriotic hospitable, cultured, friendly little city of Woodstock as I knew it. Though its sidewalks were of wood and its streets, in the rainy season, like the bottomless pit, it was always beautiful to me. The park, with its fountain, was my especial pride. Nor did I then deem it possible that anything, anywhere, could outshine the glories of the McHenry county fair.
Can any of the old-timers ever forget how everyone who owned any sort of a horse-driven vehicle, washed and maybe painted it, polished his harness and brushed and curried his horses down to the last shiny hair jtp make his outfit presentable for the annual Decoration Day parade to the cemetery. And how unconsciously proud we all were when the city hall was built. We called it the "opera house" then. Of the notables who visited our town and spoke in our "opera house" I recall Oglesby, Fifer, Alschuler, Frances Willard, Gunsaulus, Tanner, the latter because of a claim he made that he could trace his ancestry back to Bible times, proving it by citing this verse,—"and he tarried many days in Jappa in the house of one Simon A. Tanner."
Among my first tastes of social life was attendance at what was then called "The Literary." Mrs. M. L. Josjyn," I recall, was one of the leaders and it met at the larger homes one evening each week. It was well attended and a fine thing for us all. It gave us young sprouts a chance to air such talents as we had and also to listen to the wisdom pf our elders. And always one of my greatest pleasures was listening to the sweet voice of Agnes Quinlan. To this day I can even remember the words of several of her songs, always well selected. Later came the Monday evening Literature club at Judge Smiley's, the noble work of the women of the Penny Mite society, the merry "Ugo Igo" card club, the W. C. T. U., the chrysanthemum show at the opera house, the week of the teacher's institute at the old school house on South street. What a gala time that was! Always winding up with a program the last evening. My recollections of the old home town are unusually pleasant—vivid memories of a people who loved social life, books, music, pictures, trees and bright gardens. The one sad remembrance of the old home town is the fact that the ranks of the precious old-time friends, neighbors and teachers are thinning fast. How we miss them! Those faithful ones who neyer once failed in loyalty to their friends or their convictions, who steadfastly lived up to and cherished their ideals. "As when the Wise Men From the East afar Followed the guidance
Of the radiant star. "Perhaps the star that guided them Across the fields of Bethlehem Will lead us on from day to day And shed its light upon our way—"Till pur enchanted eyes shall see The glory of the King And our enraptured ears shall hear The harps of heaven ring." MORNA A. MUMFORD.
Cliff V. Sherman Recalls Days Of Orchestra Work. Los Angeles, Calif.
Greetings! In answer to your letter asking for a few incidents of early days in Woodstock, will say that about the first event that I can remember is having my curl's cut off just 50 years ago by Henry Schneider, and the last time I was in Woodstock I saw him standing at the same location, bless his soul, I hope he is still living. In 1885 my father built the home on Washington street now called the Conley place and when I was eight years old my father taught me to play the picolo and at the age of nine I was playing with the Spring City band. Walter Wheeler heard me playing one night when the band was practising and asked me to join. At the age of 13 I studied clarinet with Prof. Slocum, of Harvard, a very fine musician and leader of Slocum's orchestra. I also studied piano with Stella Jones (Mrs. Geo. Lemmers) and violin with Agnes Quinlan and I owe a great deal of my success to these two ladies. In fact, it was their musical training that started me on my way and later took me with musical organizations to Cuba, Hawaiian Islands, Mexico. Alaska, Canada, and into almost every state in the Union. Father built the Sherman building, now the State Bank building, in 1893, and, as you know, Sherman's jewelry store was a landmark in Woodstock from 1866 to 1910, when we moved to Los Angeles. It seems to me that I can remember an old Indian cigar sign (life size), about 1885, belonging to Chas. Renich's father, but I am not sure as to ownership. I have pictures of our family taken by John Medlar, Herb Medlar's father, up in the Hoy block. Also recall when they hung Dacy, a Chicago man, and also of Debs being in jail and the night he went free and the Chicago crowd came out with a band and paraded around the square in the mud. How many remember the old stage in Murphy's hall before the city hall opera house was built? And Chas. Lemmers singing in the "Mikado," also Clint Jones and his home talent shows and "Pinafore" opera, Johnny Carroll leading the band. It's no use, I must, stop, as I could fill your whole paper, so use any part of the above, I am now on my vacation—last week in the Yosemite and leaving tonight for Catalina Island. Very truly yours, CLIFF V. SHERMAN-Assistant director greatest Shrine band in the world.
Thev Put On Many Gay Parties In Woodstock Thirty-five and More Years Ago [photo] This group of girls had a part in a Chrysanthemum
Show, an annual event, in the period about 1900. Top row—Edith Murphy, Katharine Renich, Esther Herlugson, Belle Hart, Grace Arnold, Bertha' Walters, Clara Richards, Erie Primm. Bottom row—Alice Hughes, Ethel Nottingham, Emma Shearer, Neva Jones, Alice Hart, Belle Allen, Alice Bunker.
A Group of Woodstock Social Leaders 35 Years Ago [photo] Standing, left to right—Mrs. F. W. Streets and daughter, O. G. Mead, Mrs. and Mr. George H. Hooker. Seated—Elmer E. Bagley, Mrs. F. A. Daniels, Miss Belle Furer, Frank H. Belcher, Mrs. E. E. Bagley, Miss Grace Parsons, Clifford Hooker, Frank A. Daniels, Frank W. Streets.
Post Office Employees Enjoy Annual Picnic [photo] Back in the days 30 or more years ago the Woodstock post office employees had an annual picnic, which was held on Labor day each year, usually in Mason's woods east of town and was the occasion for much fun and jollity.
Sons of Veterans Camp Members in 1892 [photo] Top row: Clinton Jones, Robert Eckert, John H. Higgins, Chas. F. Renich, Frank Roe, John Eckert, Frank Holcomb, Bottom row: Orsemus Dickerson, O. G. Mead, W. D. Freestone, J. A. Cowlin, Edgar Still.
John M. Burbank Writes Old Timers From St. Paul. Dear Charles:
I received your letter some time ago and note that you are planning to compile an 80th anniversary number. The Woodstock Sentinel was started about the time the firm I have been connected with was started as an Indian trading post. It has been a great many years since I left Woodstock, but it seems but a short period back to the time when I was living on the farm just south of the present city limits on Huntley road. This farm at one time was used as a Fair grounds and as a boy the outline of the race track could be traced in the growing grain. I suppose being packed caused it to affect the fertility of the soil.
I was present at the burning of the Waverly house and the "Rat Hole," which stood on the east side of the square about where the Jewett bank now stands. The old side-sweep fire engine seemed to work pretty hard after a few minutes of pumping. The Hobart addition, which was opened up about the time, the 'Oliver.' typewriter came to town, was all farmland and I helped my father work a good deal of this property for Mr. Hobart. Among the fond memories is the Little Cyclone band, of which Walter Wheeler was leader. Some of the original members are still living in Woodstock, among whom are Willard Sherman and Dr. Besley. This band played for the county political rallies at the time the Independents were trying to oust the ring, which I believe was supposed to have consisted of Judge Donnelly, A. S. Wright and L. T. Hoy. The band showed no partiality and was willing to work for either side. I left Woodstock in 1898 with Company "G" and haven't lived there since, but always enjoy the occasional stop-overs I am able to take when on business trips. I wish The Sentinel the best of good-luck for the next 80 years. The past 80 years have been very interesting and can see no reason why the next shouldn't be. Yours very truly,
J. M. BURBANK, St. Paul, Minn.
Floyd F. Field Remembers Days Of Lyman S. Page
Dunning, Nebraska. Dear Mr. Renich: First I must ask you to pardon my tardiness. My health is now at low ebb and at these times I am some- what neglectful, but I trust I am not too late. Your letter and invitation gave me somewhat of a thrill and brought back pleasant memories. Your father, I remember well in his cigar store. The staff on your paper, I recall all of them, but some of the names will not return with the faces—Murphy, Tom Russell, etc. My first sight of Woodstock was as a boy of 18 years. I came from Elk Grove to stay with my brothers. My first employment was mail carrier, bringing the mail from the depot down town. Soon I was accepted as baggage man, working for Lyman S. Page. Pleasant memories surround this. At the time of the Chicago fire, we were given orders to take siding there. The excitement of it is still vivid in my memory. Letters from my people left in your city—Ethel Greenleaf and Ed Field-tell me how things have changed and make me wish I could return. I have a nice home here and a nice family, but I do so much enjoy hearing from folks back there. I wish you much success with ypur paper and thank you for the invitation to join. Very truly, FLOYD H. FIELD.

Eightieth Anniversary Edition WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK, ILLINOIS Page Five
OTTO E. SEILER Dear Charlie: The first thing that flashed through my mind when your letter arrived about the 80th anniversary edition of The Woodstock Sentinel was the daily special edition that the Sentinel published during the McHenry county fair week. As a little fellow it was my first contact with a newspaper office, when a large group of boys gathered at The Sentinel headquarters—then on the third floor above Hoy's drug Store—and carried the papers all over town and the fair grounds, too. For this we received free admission to the fair, which was a tremendous thrill. A great deal of fun has been made of county fairs, but as I look back they served as great a purpose in their community as the present world's fairs do on a national and international scale.
Later I was a printer's devil at the Old Volksblatt, started, I believe, by your father, and there I fed press to the old hand-turned machine and on one or two occasions upset part of the type which made the paper come out a day late. I have noticed in past years, having been in various departments of great metropolitan newspapers, such as the Chicago Tribune and the Daily News, how almost unchanged is the atmosphere and character at the present time of these modern news gathering and composing rooms from that of the old Woodstock Sentinel. Old Football Days. One of my earliest recollections is that of the old pump factory. Its space was later occupied by the Oliver Typewriter company, which is now the home of the Alemite company. Just the other day I was in an office and it took me back a good many years when I saw an Oliver still in use. We played football where the Woodstock Typewriter company now stands and on that same field in the late '90s and early 1900s the old Woodstock town team, composed in part of Dr. Cutteridge, Del Olmstead, Rev Roy B. Guild, Ed Losee, George Murphy and Clyde Miner, played teams from Chicago, particularly one made up of employees of Marshall Field & Company. These games were played on Thanksgiving day and the excitement was as tense throughout the town as it is now on the university campus at homecoming time.
Auto Race. In 1905 referring again to the county fair one of the features in '05 was the mile race, twice around the track, between Judge Charles P. Barnes with his Rambler and A. J. Olson's Winton, called "Winnie." These cars had chain drives, the entrance was through a door in the back of the car by means of two steps from the ground, which were permanent equipment. These cars covered the full mile without any engine or tire trouble— in those days some accomplishment!
The mention of automobiles recalls the first car in town, owned by Dr. Windmueller, a good Samaritan, if one ever lived. It was guided by a hand steering rod and a fire had to be lighted and steam generated, which took some time. Many a head was held a little higher for several days after the good doctor had given them a thrilling ride through the dusty streets at fifteen miles an hour.
New Electric Lights. There were many things that happened, which, to me, and I know to others, were sensational, things which today we just take as commonplace and for granted. One evening I remember not being able to get home fast enough to announce all about the new electric street lights which replaced the old kerosene lamps on a post that Henry Schneider, later night watchman of the town, used to light with matches. When the electric sign up on the Murphy block, which read "Welcome Home" when Company G returned from the Spanish American war. That sign caused almost as much excitement as the actual return of the soldier boys themselves, and how proud everyone was of it!
Electric lights and signs, automobiles, and all the rest of the mechanical developments of the machine age since the turn of the century are now commonplace and the younger generation perhaps wonder what their mothers and fathers did when they were younger and there were no movies, no radios nor paved roads and high-powered cars, nor even many modern bathrooms. Social life revolved very much around the church and school. Common interests for sociability developed such indelibly fine organizations as the Presbyterian church choir, composed, among others, of Letah Eckert, Mrs. MacFadden, Belle Lawrence, Sadie Murphy, Charles A. Lemmers, Ben Anderson, Fremont Hoy.
Months of practice and preparation were earnestly and gladly devoted to the annual chrysanthemum show. It was not so much an exhibit of flowers as it was a show of the varied talents of young and old; and what a meal was served, prepared by a goodly percentage of the mothers and daughters in the town!
Some Old Memories. No doubt an ice cream social is now only a memory, but it was a gala occasion when some spacious lawn was set up with tables and chairs, Chinese lanterns were stretched between the trees, and ice cream—usually imported—and cake were served to all comers by the industrious ladies who the next Sunday turned over $10 or $15 to some worthy fund. But, at and between the tables, and later on when the dishes were washed and all the cleaning up was done, some vociferous and lusty conversations took place. There was no ice cream parlor in town at the time and when they came it spelled doom of the ice cream social and a part of the social life of that time.
Sunday School Picnics. What fun it was to go to Crystal Lake for the annual Sunday-school picnic in a horse-drawn bus. It was an event anxiously awaited from year to year, and incidentally, it took about an hour and a half each way to cover that nine miles.
Then there were bob-sleigh rides out to a place like Desmond's farm in Hartland township, with an oyster stew ready when we got there, and then the seven-mile ride back singing the popular songs of the day like "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree." These events were as thrilling to us then as the movies or a cabaret is today. And do they still have high school musicals made up of piano solos and duets and readings at the admission of 10 cents?
It seems a very far reach back to he old torchlight parades in the famous campaign of William McKinley against William Jennings Bryan, with free silver the vital issue. I was small enough so that "Vint" Lumley, in a suit of gold-colored cloth, with little Guy Mills, in a silver suit, thrilled and fascinated me and was I just a bit envious of Guy, even though he was older—but the Algonquin Indians, who marched in the parade with big Charlie Wandrack among them, frightened me quite a bit.
A Changing Country. It has been refreshing to ramble on about those old days of my boyhood and to have had in this pleasant hour a panoramic view of a changing country, because Woodstock was then and is now, a typical American town with all the durable qualities and deals that have made us the predominating nation in all history.
I am not opposed to change, but I still have a boyish and home-town loyalty for the Northwestern railroad and have never forgiven them for changing the color of their cars from brilliant yellow to the ugly frog green of the present time. But we need never fear about our future and the changes that may naturally and logically come to us as a people, if not forced upon us, if we retain that indelible fineness of character and spirit that predominated the citizens of Woodstock of years ago— just a small town in a vast civilization, but in these innumerable Main streets is the heart and soul of America, which epitomizes the heart throbs of our civilization. It must be a satisfaction to you Charlie, to know what a far-reaching factor the Woodstock Sentinel has been down through the years in every phase of the life of that community. Sincerely yours, OTTO E. SEILER.
Gertrude Southworth, Brings Back Memories Of Days Long Ago. Alden House Apts., Larchmont, N. Y. My Dear Mr. Renich: Your letter asking me to participate in the 80th anniversary issue of The Sentinel has been received, and while I am not prepared at this time to tender any valuable service, I do want to assure you of my deep interest which is the more sincere since it lates back to the early days of The Sentinel, when my father, G. S. Southworth, was its owner and publisher. I congratulate The Sentinel for its many years of service to the residents of McHenry county and to you, who it this time are shouldering its responsibilities, bringing to the former residents of the county much that will be of interest. You and I shared the many advantages which the Woodstock High School offered and I retain many happy memories of that period of my life. I wish you all success always. Cordially, (Mrs.) Gertrude Southworth Young
HENRY KEYES [photo] Served one term as County Treasurer and one term as Sheriff. His home was at Algonquin. Mr. Keyes was very prominent in the political affairs of the county in the late nineties.
MESSAGES FROM EDITORS, SENATORS, OTHER PUBLIC MEN (Continued from page one)
CHICAGO DAILY NEWS TELEGRAM As one of your fellow publishers of Illinois I am happy indeed to send you my most cordial felicitations on the occasion of the observance of the Eightieth Anniversary Edition of the Woodstock Daily Sentinel. It must be a source of considerable pride to you to have conducted the affairs of this important publication through thirty of its eighty years of life. May you have many more years of usefulness in the future. FRANK KNOX, Publisher Chicago Daily News.
THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE Dear Mr. Renich: It gives me great pleasure to extend congratulations, personally and on behalf of the Tribune, to you and the Daily Sentinel on the occasion of your eightieth anniversary edition, particularly because my grandfather and the founders of the Sentinel fought a common cause in opposing slavery. '
The ability pf any newspaper to survive and prosper for any considerable period of time depends on the service which it renders the community which supports it. Your eightieth anniversary you may take as a testimonial to the services which the Sentinel has rendered.
It is my wish that the Sentinel may continue for many more years under your direction to serve McHenry county and prosper with it. Yours sincerely, ROBERT R. McCORMICK.
WILLIAM H. STUART "Heard and Seen" Chicago American. To the Woodstock Daily Sentinel, its editor and publisher, Charles F. Renich, and the members of the organization, I beg leave to extend my most cordial congratulations and best wishes upon the occasion of the eightieth anniversary of the publication. That the paper has stood through the stress and storms of 80 years speaks for itself probably more eloquently and impressively than anything that writer or orator could say. In truth it is a Sentinel, a tried and true American sentinel, always protecting the fundamental laws and highest traditions of our Republic. It was founded in 1856 "to oppose slavrery and its extension." It stood with Abraham Lincoln on that issue and on all issues in the cause of equal opportunity, a square deal, for persons in general. It has been more than a Sentinel. It has been a beacon dispelling the mists of evil propaganda and enabling the people to see things in their true light. It has led in McHenry county, as fine an American community as exists anywhere in the land. Illinois has good reason to be proud of the Woodstock Daily Sentinel and the clear thinking, square dealing people of McHenry county. More power to the guiding genius of this newspaper, which has kept the faith, the faith of the founders, through eighty years! That such a newspaper, such a community, exist, gives hope and inspiration in this day when men are apt to become cynical and discouraged. Very sincerely, WILLIAM H. STUART.
CHAUNCEY W. REED Congressman 11th Dist., Illinois. My Dear Mr. Renich:
Conceived in a critical period of our nation's history, the Woodstock Sentinel has, for the enlightenment of its readers, faithfully recorded the stirring events of over half of the present lifetime of this republic. Three times it has heard our government call its young men to defend national honor with their lives. It has seen these young men, many of them mere boys, march away with all the glamour and enthusiasm of youth. It has sorrowfully recorded the names of those who never returned. It has seen one by one, seventeen men elevated to the highest position of honor within the gift of the American people. Thrice it has solemnly conveyed the startling news to its stunned and sorrowing readers that the ruthless hand of the assassin had taken from them their President. It saw Chicago devastated and destroyed by conflagration and then miraculously rebuilt to become the fourth largest city in the world. It saw this mighty nation grow from 31 states and a population of twenty-seven million people to 48 states with a population of one hundred twenty-eight million souls. This must indeed be a happy occasion for you, Mr. Renich. to have been privileged ror tnree decades to guide the destinies and policies of a newspaper which has served the people of McHenry county so faithfully and so long. As Representative in Congress of the people of the Eleventh Congressional District of the State of Illinois, may I hasten to extend to you and to the Woodstock Daily Sentinel my sincere congratulations. Very sincerely yours, CHAUNCEY W. REED, M. C.
J. C. Pierce and Company Furniture and Undertaking. Entrances, Main and Benton Streets. Phones: Business 3 Residence 176.
We Congratulate You Woodstock Sentinel on Your 80th Anniversary. You Have Grown and Prospered and Have Made a Wonderful Record. We hope that we, too, with our line of merchandise may some day do the same. We haven't been here long but we have made many friends, and take this way of thanking our customers for the help they have given us.
This is your store so help it grow as the Sentinel did. Fresh Fruits - Vegetables Cold Meats Phone 245 Free Delivery. Main Street Grocery. PETE C0NKLIN.
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WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK, ILLINOIS Eightieth Anniversary Edition Page Six
WILL START WORK ON NEW HOSPITAL IN EARLY SPRING
WOODSTOCK'S NEW HOSPITAL BUILDING Architect's conception of how the new hospital will appear when completed. [DRAWING] Money Ready for $65,000 Plant. Woodstock's proposed new public hospital is attracting attention beyond the confines of this city. In a recent issue of the Chicago Tribune quite a story appeared covering this subject. Within the next six months it is hoped the new hospital will be completed and ready for occupancy. It is expected that as soon as spring breaks work will be underway. Frederick Hodgdon of Barrington is the architect and the plans have been completed and approved. On this page appears a picture to show what the new hospital will look like.
Old Hospital Commended. It should not be misunderstood, Woodstock has had a hospital for many years which has done splendid work for the community, but it has proven far too small and inadequate to meet the demands placed on it for service. The city hospital board was first organized under a charter dated Jan. 9, 1914, and its first directors were Rev. William Kilburne, John J. Stafford, F. A. Daniels, A. J. Olson, Drs. E. Windmueller, J. E. Guy, A. B. Smith, H. M. Francis, H. C. Thon, N. L. Seelye, C. F. Baccus and Hyde West. The first officers were: President—Rev. Kilburne. Secretary—Dr. West. Treasurer—F. A. Daniels. Presidents who have served were Rev. Kilburne, John R. Kellogg, Frank A. Daniels, Rev. N. A. Sunderlin, Floyd E. Eckert and Rev. Roger C. Kaufman. The latter is the present incumbent and has served from 1921 to 1931 and from 1935 until now. The old hospital began operations at its present location on January 4, 1915.
Present Board Members. The present members of the hospital board are Rev. R. C. Kaufman, president; Mrs. Harriet Bigelow, vice president; Mrs. Florence M. Lounsbury, secretary; F. V. Giesselbrecht, treasurer, and Miss Boeck, Drs. O. W. McClusky, O. E. Nelson, Henry W. Sandeen, A. S. Romberger, Glenn E. Wright, T. F. Forrest, Mrs. McClusky, E. M. Phillips, Mayor William R. Burns, and W. J. Colahan, superintendent of schools.
The new building will be one of beauty and service as can be seen from the picture which appears on this page of the Daily Sentinel. The building will be in the form of a cross. The main part of the new building will run north and south with two wings, one on the east and the other on the west. The south end of the main part of the building will connect with the present hospital building.
Gift of Mrs. Bentley. The citizens of Woodstock can be grateful to Mrs. George Bentley for this new building. It was a $50,000 bequest from the will of Mrs. Bentley which is making possible this new structure. The $50,000 really comes from the estate of the late Dr. George Bentley of Pasadena, Calif., because of a clause in his will that requests his widow at her death make the $50,000 bequest to the local hospital. Dr. Bentley was born and reared in Woodstock. He was one of the city's most highly respected citizens. He made his home in California during the late years of his life prior to his death. By the terms of the will of Mrs. Bentley all of the $50,000 must be used for the erection of a new building and no part whatsoever can be used for repairs on the old building or for the purchase of new equipment, of any kind. It is for that reason that the new building is being erected entirely from the $50,000 bequeathed. With this sum of money the hospital board and the architect feel confident that a building to accommodate all of the needs of this community and surrounding vicinity in general can be constructed.
Plans For the Building. Plans for the new building call for two stories over all of the building, with a third story over part of the north and south part. The third story will be used exclusively as an operating and sterilizing room. An elevator will be installed.
The remainder of the building will be used for rooms. When the new building is completed the hospital as a whole will have a 42 bed capacity. This is 20 more beds than the present hospital contains.
Most of the rooms, will be large enough for two beds although a number of the rooms will be equipped with one bed only and will be of the private variety.
Citizens Make Donations Funds for new equipment and for remodeling the hospital building will be procured in part from $12,000 available to the hospital from the Julia Herrington estate and in part from money donated by citizens of the community. Complete equipment for a room may be purchased for from $160 to $200, and six or seven rooms have already been promised. About $6,000 is still needed. "Right now," said Miss Clara E. Boeck, the superintendent, in a recent interview, "we are handicapped and have to make things do. We are short of space and turn away about twenty patients weekly, and we have neither an emergency room nor an elevator. Patients must be carried up to the second floor and into any room in the hospital because the doors are too small to admit of their being wheeled in. "We will have new beds, including a $400 delivery room bed, however, when the work is completed. All doorways and halls in the old building will be widened. We will have two new operating rooms in a penthouse, to be built, and about $2,600 will be spent for a new X-ray machine and another $1,000 for a laboratory. Other features which will be included in the new building are a pharmacy, new kitchen and dining room, an ambulance entrance, and an emergency room. There also will be private rooms for both doctors and nurses.
The new fireproof building will be erected in front of the present structure, forcing the removal, to Miss Boeck's regret, of a number of fine old trees. It will run north and south, with wings at the east and west, and will be of two stories, except for the third floor operating room and sterilizing room over part of the second floor.
Most of the rooms will be large enough for two beds, although there will be a number of private rooms with telephones. There also will be reception rooms on each of the first two floors, including one near the maternity room, Miss Boeck said, "for those waiting papas."
Will Enlarge Staff. The present staff, which includes seven nurses, a janitor, a maid, a cook, and a secretary, will be enlarged by the addition of five nurses, an anesthetist, and an operating room superviser and laboratory technician, and three maids and a housekeeper. Miss Boeck has been in her present post for about a year.
Most of the patients come from Woodstock itself or from the surrounding area, but a number are emergency patients brought in from auto accidents on the state road which passes through town. There have been as many, as eleven accident victims in a single night.
To the $50,000 now available from the Bentley bequest, there will probably be a $50,000 addition, at least, since the terms of the will provide for the hospital receiving one-third of the estate's residue after all claims against it have been settled. This amount may be used for additional building or placed in a trust fund. In the latter case the interest from the fund is to go for expenses of charity cases.
Rev. Kaufman, president of the hospital board and pastor of the Grace Lutheran church, regards the future of the institution with undisguised satisfaction.
Solves City's Problem. "This new building will solve the problem for Woodstock for many years," he said, adding earnestly, "we think we'll have a nifty little hospital when it's done." When completed, the new hospital will be one of the finest in these parts. It is sure to attract much attention in McHenry county and the hospital board has had assurance from physicians in various parts of the county that they will be glad to bring their patients to Woodstock rather than to take them to other cities such as Waukegan, Elgin, and Belvidere." The people of Woodstock should not only pay tribute to the memory of Dr. Bentley and his good wife, and to the late Mrs. Julia Herrington, for their contributions, but also commend the present hospital board for the interest and hard work each and every member has put in during the past year or more in connection with this matter. These people have worked many hours in connection with this work and they believe they have arrived at the zero hour when the realization of a dream of many years is to come true.
JOHN C. DARRELL [photo] "Corporal Jack," as he was known among Grand Army circles everywhere, was a baggage master on the old Woodstock Accomodation train to and from Chicago. That was back in the nineties, when this train was operated by Conductor Lyman S. Page, Engineer James Winters, Brakeman Jesse Austin and Express Messenger H. D. McLaughlin. Firemen we remember included Fred Brink. After Mr. Page's, death came Conductor James McCaffrey. As a bugler, "Corporal Jack" had no superior and in all parades and public affairs, especially political rallies, he took a prominent part. He was loved and respected by all. One of his daughters is Mrs. Edward A. Senger of this city. Mr. Darrell died March 11, 1913, aged 67 years.
MEDLAR'S STUDIO Established in Woodstock in 1856 by John S. Medlar 80 Years of Service in This Community. Your Photographer. Most of the old time photographs reproduced in this edition were made by John S. Medlar in his day, while the later photos were made by his son, Herbert B. Medlar [photo].
Congratulations! Woodstock Sentinel on your 80th Anniversary. NATIONAL TEA CO. FOOD STORES


Eightieth Anniversary Edition WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL, WOODSTOCK ILLINOIS
JAMES ANDERSON FRAME [photo] Was the eldest son of the late Norman and Susannah (Sando) Frame. His parents came to Dorr township in 1846 and remained here until their deaths. Anderson, as he was best known, spent his younger years on his father's farm and later was engaged for many years in threshing grain for the farmers over a wide range of territory, in which he was assisted by his brother, Charles Burton Frame, William Nottingham and others, Anderson being the thresher interested in the power end of the game, whether it was horses or steam engine. Another brother was George William, formerly postmaster of Woodstock and dealer in gasoline and oils. About 1910 Mr. Frame and his wife migrated to Faith, Meade county, S. D., where he took,up a government claim and ultimately proved up on the same and where he passed away only a few years ago, after a long period of pioneering in that semi-arid region. As indicated by the photograph, Anderson Frame was somewhat foppish at times, always full of fun and a congenial companion and friend, and enjoyed hunting wild game. Mrs. Frame died in South Dakota, March 8. 1907. Their only daughter, Mrs. Elsie Corby, resides in Chicago.
WILLIAM B. AUSTIN [PHOTO] MRS. W. B. AUSTIN[PHOTO] One of Woodstock's prominent citizens and implement dealers in tne last century, Mr. Austin's business location was on Washington street. He built the Austin flats. His home was the present home of Mr. and Mrs. T. J. Shackell on Jackson street. Attorney E. W. Austin is a son and Mrs. Shackell a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Austin.
FRED WIEDRICH [photo] Well known farmer, died Oct. 19, 1895, aged 50 years. His widow, Mrs. Mary Wiedrieh, still survives and lives with her daughter, Mrs. John Reynolds, on Tryon street.
CHARLES DUFFIELD [photo] Brought up by his uncle Charles Duffield, who owned and lived on the Sando farm, south of Woodstock. He was a cousin of Mrs. A. J. Murphy. He farmed around Ridgefield and for several years was the tenant on the Lily Pond farm. His wife was a sister of Mrs. Edward Eddy, they had one daughter. They went West more than 20 years ago, where Mr. Duffield died a few years ago, aged over 80 years.
JAMES DUFFIELD [PHOTO] was born in Nicholas county, West Virginia, on July 31, 1801. In 1834 he and his wife made the journey by covered wagon West. On reaching Chicago, Mr. Dufield considered settling on what is now in the heart of that city, but he decided that the soil was not good for farming, so he continued on to where he and several friends formed what was called "Virginia Settlement" in Dorr township. Later a post office was established, which they called "Elysian."
A two-room log cabin was their first home. Later the first school in the county was held in this cabin. Over 85 years ago the Walkup brick school house was built, and Mr. Duffield helped plant the lovely trees which now surround this school yard. Church services were held regularly and nothing but illness or impassable roads kept them from attending services. Mr. Duffield was an ardent Republican and kept well posted on public affairs. He was always a farmer, and in later years was known to everyone as "Uncle Jim." In time he built a commodious home and often told that everything in its construction, except the McHenry brick, came off from his own land. There must have been a saw mill near by which turned his walnut and oak trees into lumber, as many of the timbers in the house and barn are of solid oak or walnut. He died in this home in 1885 as the result of injuries from a fall on the ice, at the age of 84 years. He is survived by his only child, Mrs. A. J. (Sadie) Murphy, who still ownes the old farm and home.
GEORGE F. MILLS [photo] Prominent jeweler in Woodstock for many years. He was friendly and kindly to all.
SUSIE K. (CHOATE) STREETS [photo] Was the eldest daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. John C. Choate, and was reared in Woodstock, where her sweet personality won for her the admiration of all who came within the circle of her acquaintance. Early in her young womanhood she became the wife of Frank W. Streets and bore him two lovely daughters.
During all of her residence in Woodstock, Mrs. Streets was intimately associated with musical circles and for several years was a member of a quartet whose soprano was Mrs. Julia Sheldon and whose tenor was Alois Dreyer, Jr., and in this capacity she always delighted all hearers by the beautiful timbre of her voice, singing at various social functions and always meeting the expectations of the most severe critics. She was a graduate of the Woodstock High school in the class of 1879, which was one of the most conspicuous classes ever graduated from the school on account of the prominence of the parents of the members of the class. It is a pleasure to recall that the Other members of this class were Nellie Austin, Fannie Cooper, Jessie Eckert, Augusta Furer, Exa D. Hickox, May E. Munger, Julia C. Murphy, Frank H. Richards, Mary H. Whitney and Bessie Wilkie. The last few years of her life Mrs. Streets resided in the state of Oregon, where her husband became one of the leading business men after he sold his clothing store in Woodstock and moved his family to the coast, and where he pasesd away only a short time ago. She was a sister of Frank B. Choate and Flora and Emma Choate, all of whom have passed to fairer shores. Surely the memory of this good woman is fragrant to all who knew her during her exemplary activities.
JOHN.P. ZIMPELMANN [photo] Mr. Zimpelmann was a local grocer, very prominent in Woodstock until the time of his death in the early nineties. He was the father of Mrs. Dora Taylor and Mrs. Charles M. Kennedy. Our good friend, Mrs. Josephine Zimpelmann, the mother, resides at present with another daughter in California.
PERRY W. MURPHEY [photo] Farmer and later alderman in Woodstock. He was a man of outstanding opinions and a readiness to express them. Died Oct. 30, 1931.
WILLIAM FREY [photo] Son of George Frey. One of the young popular men in Woodstock, who died in the early years of manhood.
JOHN S. MEDLAR [photo] Woodstock's photographer who established his business in this city in 1856, the same year the Sentinel started. Mr. Medlar carried on, two sons joining with him in the business. Frank W. and Herbert B. Frank W. Went to Iowa, where he became a nationally prominent photographer, until his death a few years ago. Herbert B. continued the business following the father's death on Sept. 28, 1898, aged 78 years.
GEORGE W. CONN, SR. [photo] Mr. Conn was one of Hebron township's most respected citizens for many years. He located on a farm in Hebron in 1861 and in time acquired 584 acres of land. In 1872 he built a butter and cheese factory, one and one-half miles east of the village wnich he conducted for many years. He was very public spirited and took a deep interest in the affairs of his home town and county. He died May 15, 1922, aged 88 years.
ABEL W. FULLER [photo] For nineteen years, from 1849 to 1868 A. W. Fuller was an active, intelligent and successful merchant in Woodstock. Of him the editor, at the time of his death, said, "a man whose word was as good as gold, and whose grasp of the hand as good as a bond." Mr. Fuller was born in 1821 in Pennsylvania. In 1844 he came to Little Fort (now Waukegan), where he was first employed for three years peddling dry goods and merchandise among the farmers. In 1849 he settled in Woodstock and entered the dry goods business, in which he was engaged until his death. His home was on Clay street, later occupied by Norman Frame, and still later sold to the Oliver Typewriter company. Mr. Fuller was a very public spirited citizen, and his name will always continue prominent here in the title of one of the city's divisions called Fuller & Wheat Addition. His widow, Mrs. Nellie Fuller, is still living and a regular reader of the Daily Sentinel. She lives with her daughter at Wilmington, Illinois. Mr. Fuller died on August 10, 1868, 68 years ago.
PETER WEBER [photo] He was a well known old timer in Woodstock. In his days there was no gas or gasoline for cooking. The housewives all used cord wood, cut in stove lengths. Mr. Weber sawed wood for many regular customers. Many stories were told that he was the scion of a noble family in Germany and had been disinherited and sent to America to shift for himself. Ha was a kindly old man, as we remember him, who lived by himself and said nothing about his past.
MRS. RACHEL ANDERSON [photo] Was the mother of P. Benjamin Anderson, lived a useful Christian life in this community. She died April 7, 1901, aged 68 years.
FRED D. PERKINS [photo] Prominent Supervisor and Seneca farmer, who retired and passed the last years of his life in Woodstock. Died Dec. 3, 1933.
CHARLES RETTERER [photo] Our older citizens will remember Charles Retterer. He was born near Strassburg, Alsace, France, in 1849, and came with his parents to this country in 1853. They settled at Wheeling, Illinois, but Charlie came to Woodstock in 1870, where he conducted a blacksmithing business. He was a member of Company G, I. N. G. He died in 1888. He was an uncle of Mrs. Harry Cross of this city, also of Georgo Retterer and Mrs. Emma Weiss. One brother, Jacob Retterer was a hardware merchant in Chicago for many years.
GEORGE GUTH [photo] MRS. GEORGE GUTH [photo] Mr. and Mrs. Guth were worthy farmer friends who lived in Hartland tOwnship. One son, Joseph Guth now lives with his family in Greenwood township. Mr. Guth was best known as a violin player or "fiddler" as they then called it and as leader of Guth orchestra played at popular barn dances all over the county.
WILLIAM E. WIRE [photo] County Superintendent of Schools for 16 years. He lived at Hebron where he entered the banking business after retiring from public office. For many years he was prominent in Republican politics and served as chairman of the county committee Nov. 19, 1921.
RICHARD BISHOPJ, [photo] Prominent citizen and leader in Democratic political affairs in McHenry county. He was a pioneer resident of McHenry, where he conducted various lines of business, including banking, milling and wagon making. Bishop's mill at McHenry, up until the nineties, served the farmers from all parts of the county for grinding their wheat into flour and their other grain into meal. Mr. Bishop died at McHenry May 31, 1895, aged 75 years, after a long and useful career.
CALVIN J. HENDRICKS [photo] A leading attorney. Nominated for County Judge, but died two months before election. Brother of Frank J. Hendricks, and Miss Sybil Hendricks. Died in August, 1918.
DORR W. THOMAS [photo] Was a prominent citizen of Algonquin, but a frequent visitor in Woodstock, where he had a host of friends. Dorr's annual fish chowder parties at Algonquin were always attended by a large gathering of friends and were very popular events. He never sought public office, but was always keenly interested in helping his friends. He died April 5, 1922, aged 72 years.
MRS. LENA MENTZER RETTERER [PHOTO] Mrs. Retterer, wife of Charles Retterer, was a sister of the late Henry and Philip Mentzer, and was one of the sweetest and dearest women the writer ever knew. Among her younger friends she was known as Aunt Lena and they all ioved her dearly. She grew to womanhood on the Mentzer farm in Greenwood, now occupied by John Hanley, Mrs. Hanley being a Mentzer. She spent her womanhood caring for the sick and in those days of practical nursing her services were always in demand. She died late in the nineties, the exact date we are unable to supply at this writing.
ADDISON M. SHELTON [photo] Mr. Shelton was superintendent of schools at Crystal Lake and later was elected County Superintendent of Schools. From 1920 to 1929 he served as Director of the Department of Registration and Education in the cabinet of Governor Len Small. He died May 1, 1932, aged 56 years, after an honorable career in public life.

PAGE EIGHT WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL EIGHTIETH ANNIVERSARY EDITION
Congratulations! Woodstock Sentinel Years May Come, Years Have Gone, Times Have Changed, Sentinel Marches On" Eighty years of good work and hard work have put you up along with the top ranking newspapers of the country. Keep it up and Woodstock will always be on the map. We, too, are celebrating your anniversary along with our second anniversary. We are featuring the highest grades of merchandise at prices that everybody can afford. Fresh Fruits, Fancy Vegetables, along with Land O'Lakes Butter and Silver Cup Coffee, are always of top quality and
prices are always at a fair medium. Centrella Foods are the Best to use WE DELIVER ANYWHERE—ANY DAY LAND O'LAKES BUTTER FREE DELIVERY SWEETLAND AND STONE SHOP HERE AND SAVE 136 CASS ST. WE TAKE ORDERS FOR FRESH MEAT. PHONE 162.
TO THE WOODSTOCK DAILY SENTINEL CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EIGHTIETH ANNIVERSARY. You should feel proud of this long record of dependable service. The "Busy Corner Grocery" Also has a record to be proud of. After sixteen years of dependable distribution of Fancy Groceries, Fruits and Vegetables we feel certain that we are able to please the most discriminating shoppers. We take this opportunity to thank our many friends, and hope to make many new ones in the future. Busy Corner Grocery E. C. Bodenschatz, Prop.
Congratulations Sentinel! First Home of Montgomery Ward [photo]. MONTGOMERY WARD AND COMPANY congratulates the Woodstock Daily Sentinel on their eightieth anniversary, Montgomery Ward and Company is proud to be associated with an organization whose high standards and progressive action reflects eighty years of unchanging policy and unselfish hard work. In the past eighty years, Woodstock has seen many improvements take place. Glancing through the yellowing sheets of past issues of the "Sentinel" we find that almost without exception the changes and improvements sponsored and supported by the "Sentinel" have proved to be of a permanently beneficial nature to the people of Woodstock.
SIXTY-FIVE YEARS AGO, two men, A. Montgomery Ward and George R. Thorne, founded a business in a fourth floor room on Chicago's North Clark Street with a few simple merchandise lines and an ideal. Today this business has grown to national proportions. Montgomery Ward and Company sells thousands of articles in 550 complete, modern retail stores, and through large mail order houses. But, basically, Montgomery Ward has not changed. The ideals of the founders are lived up to by the present Ward organization, the standards of 65 years ago remain unaltered and unchanged. The merchandise sold is constantly undergoing modernization and improvement - the standards of quality remain the same. It is our aim to serve our customers faithfully and well, give them what they want, and, if they are not satisfied, refund their money cheerfully. It is our honest belief that simplicity and honesty are the foundation of any success, and it is with organizations who conduct their businesses along these lines that we en joy associating ourselves. So again we say "Congratulations, Sentinel, we are proud to know, and do business with you."
101 Johnson Street.
Phone 525
Woodstock, Ill.