Future Theatre Has Long History As A Community Center.

The nondescript brick building at 83 S. Walnut St., nestled between a former ice cream factory and burger stand and the first automobile factory in Chillicothe, is on a fast track to being the first permanent venue of the 51-year-old Chillicothe Civic Theatre group, which purchased the former Bethel Full Gospel Church in 2015.

Former St. Mark's Episcopal Mission, circa 2000.

The building itself is an enlarged and remodeled incarnation of a church that had stood on the lot for decades. The original church was a mission-style structure that in my young mind bore a striking resemblance to the famous Alamo in Texas, except this one was painted gray-blue. In the late 1990s, Bethel Full Gospel Church, established in 1963, decided to renovate the structure, at the expense of the Mission-style design, once described by the Gazette as "a handsome edifice." Of the original structure only portions of the exterior walls remain.

Former Bethel Full Gospel Church, 2019.

It has recently come to my attention, thanks to my insatiable desire to learn more about Chillicothe's history, that the church was not always a church. Regardless, 83 S. Walnut St. for most of its existence was of great significance to Chillicothe's African-American community, spiritually and secularly.

A headline in the November 7, 1946 Chillicothe Gazette & News-Advertiser, "Walnut Street Y Gives Negro Youth Supervised Program," piqued my curiosity. The article included a photo of a group of children and adults lined up in front of a brick building that I did not readily recognize. The landscape of S. Walnut St., a de facto boundary of Chillicothe's predominantly black South End, changed considerably in the 1960s, with the development of metropolitan housing, and the construction of the current post office and the Tiffin Tower apartment building. Looking at the grainy newspaper photo, the "Walnut Street Y" resembled a factory or garage that had been repurposed. The article in question didn't really give any solid details on the location of the facility.

Moreover, it had never occurred to me that Chillicothe, on the surface a "progressive" city that was on the Underground Railroad, ever had a segregated YMCA, although it shouldn't have surprised me, as it once had a segregated school, Southern School. At the time, the main local YMCA was in a large house on W. Second St., after shuffling from location to location around town.

But today, the pieces fit together, and I found out that the "Walnut Street Y" was in the very same building (in a previous life) that CCT now calls home, and that was only part of the story.

That story begins in 1897, when St. Paul's Episcopal Church, established in Chillicothe in 1817, opened "a mission church among Negro citizens," called St. Mark's Episcopal Mission. The congregation originally met in the Clinton Hotel building on W. Water St., led by lay minister Mr. Charles W. Boot. At the turn of the century, the mission launched a fundraising drive to build a church building. In 1902 it was announced by the Episcopal diocese that the congregation's funds would be matched by a $1,000 contribution from Mr. W.A. Proctor. The property at 83 S. Walnut St., just south of St. Paul's original edifice, was acquired, and on June 13, 1906, the cornerstone for St. Mark's Episcopal Mission was laid.

On Sunday, April 14, 1907, St. Mark's Episcopal Mission was dedicated and consecrated by Rt. Rev. Boyd Vincent, D.D., bishop of the southern Ohio Protestant Episcopal diocese. Contemporary accounts don't offer much description of the building itself, except to call it a "pretty little edifice...beautifully decorated with Easter lilies and greenery" for the occasion. The first pastor of the new church was Rev. William D. Brown.

It's not clear when St. Mark's Mission ceased worship activities in the Walnut St. church, but it was announced in 1938 that local Boy Scout Troop 285, sponsored by St. Paul's Episcopal Church on E. Main St., would begin meeting in the "vacant" Walnut St. mission, which they'd been cleaning for the past few weeks. The Boy Scouts, along with their counterparts, the Sea Scouts, held meetings in the former Mission until at least 1943.

In October of 1944, the USO (United Service Organizations) opened a "Negro USO lounge" at the corner of Seventh and Walnut Sts. in the area of what is now Lincoln Park apartments. The space, outfitted by the USO which also provided a small allowance for upkeep, also served as a YMCA center. It provided off-duty servicemen card and ping-pong tables, as well as hosting dances twice a week, and was used by the "Y" on Monday through Wednesday. The Gazette stated in a Nov. 1944 article that both organizations were part of the United War & Community Fund.

Original USO-YMCA Center at Walnut and Seventh Sts. (Burl Lee Grocery)

It was apparently, probably from the beginning, that the space at Seventh and Walnut was inadequate, and in June, 1945, it was announced that the USO-YMCA center would be moving to larger quarters in the former St. Mark's Episcopal Mission building on Walnut St.

On August 7, 1945, the USO presented a musical Army show, "Hank's Yanks," at the Mission, which had been redecorated inside and outside, and furnished by the USO with seating and game equipment. Two days later, a public open house was held. On August 11, 1945, the "Negro USO Center" was officially dedicated in a ceremony featuring USO, YMCA, and military officials, and Chillicothe Mayor Harold Brown. It's somewhat significant to note that during this same week, both Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been obliterated by atomic bombs, setting the stage for Japan's surrender just three days after the center's dedication.

After the war ended, the United War & Community Fund that had supported the YMCA and USO programs became the Community Chest, in some ways, if not indirectly, an ancestor of the United Way. The center in the old mission became known as the Walnut Street YMCA and continued under the direction of Mrs. Edith Trent until at least 1947. A daily Bible school was conducted each summer.

The development of the Walnut Street YMCA in the former St. Mark's was contemporaneous with that of the Carver Community Center, established in the former Covert Baking Co. building on W. Fourth St. just a block from the mission. Carver Center founder Rev. Wesley Matthews, former pastor of Quinn Chapel AME Church, was named in the 1946 article as one of the community leaders that made the Bible school at the Walnut St. facility possible.

Once again, the history trail gets a bit foggy. In July, 1949, Lorain Brown Post 126, the local African-American post of the American Legion, which had been meeting in various locations over the years, including the former Memorial Hall on W. Main St., had its first meeting in the "former USO center" on S. Walnut St. The post was commanded by Robert D. Harris, and named for a local African-American soldier who died at sea while returning from Europe in 1919.

The American Legion continued to meet in the Walnut Street mission until 1951. At the beginning of 1952, it was announced that the U.S. Naval Reserve Electronics Division, which had been meeting in the former GAR Hall (and Atwell Auto dealership) since shortly after the war, would be setting up headquarters in the former USO building, then called Moss Hall, after the building's current owner, barber and property owner Clyde E. Moss.

Moss was the Master of Chillicothe Ionic Lodge No. 6, the African-American branch of the Freemasons, who used the building for lodge meetings even after the Naval Reserves moved in. Local civic groups were also allowed to use the hall for fundraising rummage sales.

Within a few years, the Naval Reserves were scouting for other lodging, and in 1956, plans were made to build a facility on former canal lands near Eastern Ave. Due to various hitches, the plans for Eastern Ave fell through, and the USNR continued using the mission building until 1960, when it was decided to build a Naval Reserve facility onto the Skaggs Army Reserve Training Center on Rt. 50 W. (Western Ave.). Shortly thereafter, Clyde Moss offered the former Reserve center for sale, lease, or trade for residential property.

Two views of the Naval Reserve Center at St. Mark's Mission.

In the meantime, the seeds were being sown for the building's return to a spiritual purpose. On November 11, 1945, Bethel Full Gospel Church held its first services on Kendrick Ave., a street off S. Woodbridge Ave., on a hill just west of the city limits, in an area known for many years as "White Heaven." The first pastor of the church was Rev. David E. Cotton, succeeded by Rev. William B. Brooks, who also was proprietor of the settlement's only grocery store.

Life was not easy on the hill, to put it lightly. The streets were not properly paved until the 1960s, and it wasn't until the late 1970s. The area was also plagued with fires, one of which destroyed Rev. Brook's grocery in 1952. Rev. Brooks died in 1959, and his widow Lovada Brooks carried on in his stead. In the early 1960s, a shakeup in the church led to a split in the congregation, with one opening the Glorious Church Of God In Christ at the corner of Seventh and Walnut (original location of the USO Club) and the other continuing on Kendrick Ave. for a short time.

In November, 1963, the new Bethel Full Gospel Church of Christ was dedicated in the original St. Mark's Episcopal Mission after nearly a quarter century of the space being a largely secular community center. The original pastor was Rev. Charles B. Jones, with associate pastor Clyde Harris. The church was incorporated December 4, 1964. Bethel Church thrived in this location for the next 50 years. The renovations were complete by 2007, but the church itself was officially dissolved in late 2018.

Bethel Full Gospel Church, circa 2013.

Surviving portion of the original wall of St. Mark's Episcopal
Church, as it appeared in April, 2019. 

The Chillicothe Civic Theatre was founded in 1968 and for much of its existence has staged productions throughout the city. The Carlisle Building, the Majestic Theatre, Scioto Township Hall, Carver Community Center, St. Peter's School, Ross County Courthouse, OU-C Bennett Hall, and the Pump House Center For The Arts are among the venues the group has performed in.

CCT purchased the Bethel Full Gospel Church building in December, 2013, with the intent of converting it into an intimate 100-seat theatre space and permanent home for their organization. They've been actively raising funds since that time, doing what they can. In 2016, much of the interior framing was underway, and this spring, exterior improvements began in earnest.

Judging from the original drawings for the planned CCT facility, it appears that the new building will retain some of the architectural features of the original structure, particularly the walls that were left exposed in the original remodeling of the church. I hope that future generations of theatregoers will know something of the rich history behind 83 S. Walnut St. and its significance to a historic community.

Original 2014 architectural drawings showing CCT's planned 100-seat theatre building, retaining some of the features of the original St. Mark's Mission building.

"Bud" Cowart And His Buddies Were No Cowards

INTRODUCTION

In the 1920s and 1930s, the early days of aviation, giant silver monsters of the air crossed the country and circled the globe. The only thing more thrilling than seeing these airships overhead was to see one up close, or better yet, to have a hands-on experience with one. Three young men got their chance in May, 1932, when the world's newest, largest, and most technologically advanced dirigible paid a visit to their training base. Their lives would be changed in one turbulent moment.

This is their story.

PORTENTS OF DISASTER

On April 4, 1933, the U.S.S. "Akron" (ZRS-4), one of the U.S. Navy's three giant rigid airships, crashed into the Atlantic just off Barnegat Light. All but three of the ship's 76 crew members perished, including Admiral William A. Moffett.

There were several portents of disaster during the ill-fated dirigible's short service life. The first of these occurred on February 22, 1932, at Lakehurst Naval Air Station in New Jersey, when, in the presence of Navy dignitaries and the press, a gust of wind hit the tail, causing the lower fin to smash into the ground, sustaining considerable damage as film cameras rolled. Repairs took the "Akron" out of commission until April.

After a series of test flights that saw experimentation with catching and releasing airplanes from a "trapeze" built into the ship, and a modern version of the WW1-era "spy car," the ship was readied for a coast-to-coast flight to Sunnyvale NAS in California, where a hangar for the "Akron"'s planned sister ship was being built. The ship departed Lakehurst on May 8, 1932.

On May 11, the ship reached Camp Kearney in San Diego, a training base on the site of what is now Marine Corps Air Station Mirimar. A rudimentary mooring mast had been installed for the use of airships, and the "Akron" attempted that day to use it. A contingent of 200 enlisted men were chosen from a pool of volunteers to serve as a makeshift ground crew, given last minute training, and assigned in teams of 30-45 to the mooring and handling ropes lowered from the ship. At the end of each line was a ring, to which were attached a bundle of "spider lines." At the end of each line was a "toggle," an 8-inch dowel rod spliced into a knot for each man to hold onto.

Among the young sailors on the field that day were Aviation Carpenter's Mate 3rd Class Robert H. Edsall, 20, of Elkhart, Indiana; Apprentice Seaman Nigel M. Henton, 18, of Fresno, California; and 19-year-old Apprentice Seaman Charles M. "Bud" Cowart, of Sand Springs, Oklahoma. Like most of the enlistees chosen for the physically strenuous detail of wrangling a 785-foot long dirigible to the ground, they each had some degree of athletic ability. Edsall was a member of the station tennis team. Cowart, a farm boy, was an amateur boxer. Henton was known at Camp Kearney as an accomplished gymnast, who entertained his fellow crewmembers with handsprings as they awaited the ship's arrival.

"LET GO!"

By the time the "Akron" arrived, it was lightened by the use of 40 tons of fuel between the east and west coasts, and heated by the morning sun. The resulting increase in buoyancy made the ship extremely difficult to handle by the inexperienced ground crew, and three unsuccessful attempts to land had already been made. The main cable to the mooring mast, attached to a winch salvaged from a World War I minesweeper, was cut with an ax as the ship abruptly rose, to avoid the near-vertical headstand that had threatened to wreck the U.S.S. "Los Angeles" at Lakehurst several years before. Lt. Cmdr. Charles E. Rosendahl, the "Akron" commander, ordered the ground crew through a megaphone to drop their ropes.

Unable to hear Rosendahl's command, or distracted by the ship's rolling and pitching, the group including Edsall, Henton, and Cowart was slow in releasing their grip. The ship started to rise, lifting a number of the enlistees off the ground. Most of them let go close enough to the ground to avoid injury. Four men still held on. One, Lyford Walkup, let go approximately 25 feet from the ground, and suffered a broken arm. That left Edsall, Henton and Cowart hanging on as the ship rose higher and higher. Edsall and Henton gripped their toggles, while Cowart shimmied up the rope.

Aviation Carpenter's Mate 3rd Class Robert Edsall
falls to his death from 200 feet (Los Angeles Times,
May 12, 1932, Newspapers.com)

At approximately 200 feet, Edsall was the first to lose his grip, falling to his death. A few seconds and countless feet later, he was followed by the agile, acrobatic Henton. A witness aboard the airship was quoted as exclaiming "That boy smoked when he hit the ground!" Henton's impact was captured by newsreel cameras, and theatregoers in the next few days were not spared the sight of Henton hitting the ground, bouncing six feet into the air, and landing again, stirring up a cloud of dust and dirt in his final moment.

That left Bud Cowart, tangled in the landing ropes, who fashioned himself a seat by straddling the wooden toggle. Incredibly, Cowart was seen to remove his sailor cap and shove it in his pocket to avoid losing it. Cowart would later say that his experiences as a boy, climbing oil derricks back home, contributed to his survival, as he keep his cool by focusing his attention on the airship above him instead of the ground below.

On board the "Akron," Commander Rosendahl contemplated how best to rescue Cowart. Lowering him to the ground was considered the riskiest option. Firemen at the station had nets at the ready, but nobody knew from where or how high Cowart would come if he attempted to land in the net. Rosendahl briefly considered flying out over water and having Cowart let go, to be picked up by a nearby rescue boat, but that was also risky. Finally, it was decided to winch Cowart up into the ship. Unfortunately, the manila ropes like the one Cowart embraced were not attached to winches. They would have to attach the rope to a winch and draw it up gradually.

The rescue operation commenced as the ship cruised at 2,000 feet. Boatswain's Mate 1st Class Richard E. Deal volunteered to be lowered in a bosun's chair to assist Cowart, tying an extra line to the swaying trailrope he was holding onto. Slowly but surely, Cowart was winched up, and finally, after the hour-and-a-half ordeal, brought on board with the help of a boathook wielded by Chief Arthur Carlson.

Commander Rosendahl was the first to greet Seaman Cowart, asking him how he was. "I'm all right, but I'm hungry," he replied with a grin. (News accounts of the day claim his exact first words were "Gimme something to eat!") When asked by Rosendahl how he enjoyed his ride, he replied, "It was a real lilly-dilly!" Cowart's next request was for a rag to clean his hands, made greasy from a steel cable he'd brushed away during his "ride." Rosendahl would later recall, "his hands were covered with grease, but he wasn't going to get our airship dirty."

Cowart presumably enjoyed his trip much better from aboard ship, as the "Akron" cruised the area for the remainder of the afternoon. It must be noted this was not merely for his benefit. Giant rigid airships like the "Akron" took off and landed either in the early morning or late evening, when solar heat was at a minimum, to avoid the need to valve off precious helium. Nevertheless, some helium was let out before the "Akron" landed back at Camp Kearney at 6:50 p.m. Cowart's first statement to the press was short and to the point. "I hung on because I was ordered to hang on!"

A contemporary news report says that Bud's father, Marion Cowart, was notified of his son's rescue by telephone, having been summoned by a neighbor a mile away, since the Cowarts themselves had no phone. "Well, I'll be durned," Cowart is quoted as saying, "that Navy sure is a thorough going outfit!"

FILLING IN THE BLANKS

"Bud" Cowart became a bit of a celebrity in the days following the incident, his boyish grin and humble, "aw shucks" demeanor on display in the newsreels that captured so much of the drama. But he is today considered little more than a minor footnote in airship history. However, thanks to modern technology, social media, and the advent of archival websites, such as Newspapers.com and Ancestry, it's possible to fill in some of the blanks of his life before and after the 1932 incident.

Charles Melvin Cowart Jr. was born July 31, 1913 in Sand Springs, Oklahoma to Charles M. and Bessie Cowart. The elder Charles Cowart was a laborer for a local oil refinery. A 1976 Daily Oklahoman article reveals that Cowart's nickname was actually "Bub," given by his older brother Billy. Aside from the aforementioned AP report, the media reported Cowart's nickname as "Bud" and it stuck.

In 1932, "Bub"'s father stated that "staying with things he starts" had always been a trait of his son. "He's been in lots of scrapes and they never seemed to bother him a bit, and nerve? Why, anything he wanted, he always just stuck to it until he got it." In the same article, the elder Cowart revealed that the "Akron" incident wasn't his son's first escape from death, recalling a truck in which he and "Bub" were driving losing control on a hill. "I jumped, and almost broke my back, and although I yelled at Bub to jump, he stayed in the car." The truck overturned several times and came to rest in a ditch. "I expected the worst, but there Bub sat with a grin on his face, without a scratch."

It was in his youth, prior to his Navy service, that Cowart honed his boxing skills, a regular at the West Side Athletic Club in Tulsa, where he fought in the welterweight amateur class.

Cowart's first attempt to join the Navy, for which he dropped out of high school, was in February, 1931, but he was advised to wait a year. He hitch-hiked to Dallas, Texas, for his physical, with only $2.10 in his pocket, enlisting March 10, 1932, only two months before the "Akron"'s ill-fated landing.

Bub/Bud Cowart seems to have had an uneventful time in the U.S. Navy, and a low-key life after his service. However, the ordeal at Camp Kearney would not be his final encounter with the legendary Commander Rosendahl. After training, Cowart was assigned to the USS "West Virginia," whose skipper was none other "Rosie," the former airship captain. Rosendahl had not quickly forgotten the young seaman's heroism. In January, 1933, the 20-year-old sailor found himself in court in Long Beach, California, on a charge of public intoxication. Rosendahl again came to his rescue, telling the judge how he held onto the rope after watching his "buddies" drop to their deaths, adding that Cowart's "unparalleled display of courage" made him "worthy of consideration." "No doubt of that," replied Judge C.D. Wallace, who agreed to let Cowart off with a $10 fine.

On May 17, 1935, Bud married Ruby E. Gilstrip in Tulsa. They had a daughter, Sally, in 1937.

Cowart found himself in national news again in July 1936, having been treated at a Tulsa hospital for a stab wound in his left side. Bud, who had been brought in by his father, refused to discuss the circumstances of the stabbing with the press. One can only assume that the outcome could have been worse, however, and that Cowart had once again possibly cheated death.

In 1939, a radio program guide in the Montreal Gazette mentions that Cowart ("who tried to moor the ill-fated dirigible Akron at the time of the famous disaster"), will be initiated into the Order Of Adventurers on the CFCF show "Reading Adventure," along with Gertrude Lintz, original owner of the Ringling Bros. Circus's star gorilla Gargantua. There is no record to my knowledge whether Cowart actually appeared on the program in some manner.

The 1940 U.S. Census lists Charles, Ruby, and Sally Cowart as living in Ponca City, Oklahoma, where he is a welder for the Continental Oil Company. Living with the Cowarts are older brother Billy (William Harl) and his wife Adrah.

From there, the trail fizzles out. On March 1, 1960, the San Francisco Chief No. 2, a train bound from Bakersfield, California to Chicago, struck a two-trailer oil rig, causing an explosion that set three passenger coaches afire, killing approximately 30. An article in the Daily Oklahoman (Oklahoma City) mentions that Cowart and his wife, described as a former Tulsa couple living in Alameda, California, are among three Tulsans who survived (surprise!). It is stated that the Cowarts were returning to Tulsa to re-establish residency. The article does not reference Cowart's "Akron" ordeal.

Cowart was still living in Alameda in October, 1976, when Orbit Magazine, the weekly supplement to the Daily Oklahoman, tracked him down for an interview and a one-and-a-half page feature. Retired Admiral Charles E. Rosendahl (who died the following May at age 85) was also interviewed for the feature (the source of his quotes elsewhere in this article). The article focuses mainly on the "Akron" story, with little information on  his post-Navy or current exploits. It is, however, revealed that Cowart lost his voice to a throat ailment in 1970. "Speech comes difficult," the article says, "but he has developed eloquent gestures." The only photograph that accompanies the article shows 63-year-old Cowart hanging onto a rope, presumably demonstrating for the reporter how he did it 44 years before.

Charles M. "Bud" Cowart passed away October 1, 1978, in Alameda, California, aged 65. Ruby Cowart, who was divorced from Bud in 1967, passed away in Alameda six years later.

THE OTHER TWO

Nigel Merton Henton, age 19, of Fresno, California, was born May 31, 1913 to Ernest E. and Lula Henton. Nigel enlisted in the Navy in March, 1932, after graduating from Fresno Technical High School. A former employee of the Black Cat Battery Shop and W.G. Goss's soft drink stand in Fresno, Henton hoped to train in the Navy to become a pharmacist's mate.

On May 18, 1932, only a week after the Henton perished in the "Akron" incident, the airship passed over Fresno on a cruise along the San Joaquin Valley from Sunnyvale NAS. The Los Angeles Times reported that Mrs. Ernest E. (Lula) Henton, his mother, stayed inside her home as the airship passed directly over her home, refusing to view the dirigible. "I did not want to see it," Mrs. Henton said. "I could not make myself want to see it. I am not bitter about it, and I hold nothing against anyone or anything."

The Hentons suffered another tragedy 12 years later, when Nigel's little brother, PFC Theodore Henton, was reported killed in action in Germany. Theodore was also 19.

Nigel Henton's funeral was held May 16, 1932 at Stephens & Bean Chapel in Fresno, Rev. Robert D. Licklider officiating. Burial followed at Belmont Memorial Park.

Robert Edsall, age 20, of Elkhart, Indiana, enlisted in the Navy aviation division at South Bend on July 2, 1930, following his graduation from Elkhart High School. He was born in Mishawaka, Indiana, Sept. 2, 1911, to Jay J. and Lottie Edsall.

In high school, he was "yell leader" for three years, a cast member in the Junior Class play, and a member of several school organizations. After the "Akron" accident, his body was escorted home by his friend David Loose, with whom he had enlisted and had served since both were assigned to the Great Lakes Training School. His funeral was held at Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church on May 17, 1932, and he buried at Rice Cemetery in Elkhart.

Contemporary accounts made note of the letter Robert's mother had received only a couple of days before his death. Dated Mother's Day, the letter said in part: "Boy -- hope we do get to help moor the Akron! That's something to write home about!" He was last home on furlough the previous October.

Edsall made the local news in August, 1932, after the Navy rejected a proposal from Indiana Senator James E. Watson to award posthumous recognitions of valor to Edsall and fellow victim Nigel Henton. Watson made the appeal on the recommendation of the South Bend American Legion post. In the letter declaring the board's decision, Rear Admiral F.B. Upham stated: "In the opinion of the board, it has never been the policy of the Navy, and should not become the policy, to award medals to personnel merely because they have been involved in an accident [emphasis added]."

In an ironic twist, Henton and Edsall were not the only people to lose their lives in connection with the "Akron" in May, 1932. On May 19, the Los Angeles Times reported that the previous day, 18-year-old Stephen Robert Smith of Modesto died after falling 15 feet from a tree he was climbing to get a better view of the "Akron" as she flew over Stockton. Like Bud Cowart, Smith was an Oklahoma native.

POSTSCRIPT

At the time of the disaster that destroyed the "Akron" on April 4, 1933, killing 73 of its 76 crewmembers, her sister ship, ZRS-5, had been christened U.S.S. "Macon" for a month, and the ship made her first flight on April 23. The Navy had high hopes for the "Macon" following the loss of the "Akron," Indeed, "Macon" had a more productive career than her predecessor, with the Navy fine-tuning their use of the ship, like "Akron," as a "flying aircraft carrier." In October, 1933, the ship departed Lakehurst, NJ for her permanent assignment at Sunnyvale. While stationed on the West Coast, "Macon" participated with varying degrees of success in fleet training exercises.

On February 12, 1935, returning to Sunnyvale from maneuvers, "Macon" was caught in a storm off Point Sur. A wind shear tore away the upper tail fin of the ship (a result of faulty attachment to the airship frame's "rings") and the ship crashed into the ocean. Thanks to warmer weather conditions and a full complement of lifesaving equipment, only two of the ship's 83 crewmembers perished. With the loss of 4 out of the 5 rigid airships built for the U.S. Navy, the "Macon" disaster spelled the end of the program (the lone survivor, the German-built ZR-3 U.S.S. "Los Angeles," remained a "hangar queen" at Lakehurst until she was scrapped in 1940).

It was reported that "Macon" was to fly to Hawaii the following May, where an airship base was being planned. "Alternate history" buffs suggests having giant rigid airships on duty in Hawaii would have prevented the Pearl Harbor attack on Dec. 7, 1941. In truth, as advances were made in "heavier-than-air" aviation, the days of the giant "queens of the sky" were already numbered by the time of the "Macon" disaster, even as the LZ-129 "Hindenburg" neared completion in Germany. The Navy did have further success with the use of non-rigid "blimps," until the program was scrapped in 1962 (it was revived briefly some 20 years later with a one-ship "fleet").

In retrospect, despite the Navy's rather dismissive attitude in 1932, it should be obvious to anyone familiar with rigid airship handling procedures in that era, that it was strenuous, specialized work, risky and unpredictable.

It may not be too late to reconsider the posthumous honors Sen. Watson proposed for Robert Edsall and Nigel Henton in 1932, and to consider one for Bud Cowart, as well, for his courage. "Green" as the three sailors may have been, they were not "merely [personnel]...involved in an accident." They were young men who lost their lives while on active duty in the service of their country, and should be respected accordingly. At the very least, they are worthy of having their lives remembered.

They are worthy of consideration.

"Worker For God" Caused Stir In Chillicothe In 1938

On Sunday morning, June 12, 1938, Clifford Brant, a travelling salesman from New York, who'd been living in a boarding house in Chillicothe, Ohio, called a taxi cab, with the intent of visiting every Protestant church in town that day.

By that afternoon he had disrupted services at 10 churches, ranging from a small East End mission church to St. Peter's, one of Chillicothe's two Catholic mainstays. The latter visit was described by parishioners as "electrifying" as the itinerant evangelist rattled the giant wood doors of the church and threw them open, running in with arms outstretched as the visiting administrator of a big city seminary school was delivering his sermon.

The local police chief and one of his officers put an end to Brant's tour that afternoon, having waited for him at the local Salvation Army church, the only one still conducting services at that hour. Brant was taken to the local city jail, and within days had been found insane by a local judge and admitted to the State Hospital (read, "mental asylum") in Athens. Mr. Brant's subsequent whereabouts and later exploits are unknown.

The account given the day after Brant's rant about town is quite interesting and mildly humorous in places, so I'll leave it to the Chillicothe Scioto Gazette's reportage of the day to fill in the details.

 

“WORKER FOR GOD” HIRES TAXI BY HOUR ON TRIPS TO DISRUPT CHURCH SERVICES

Chillicothe Scioto Gazette, June 13, 1938

"They gave me a padded cell at Syracuse, N. Y.," explained Clifford Brant, 42, self-styled "worker of God," as he nonchalantly swung his legs from his iron bunk at city prison, Sunday, where he was taken after making a spectacular appearance at approximately 10 Chillicothe churches during the morning services.

Hiring a taxi by the hour, and telling the driver, Ross Draher, 680 East Main street, he intended to visit every Protestant church, in town, Brant almost achieved this goal. He offset omissions by a visitation to St. Peter's Catholic church, where he interrupted the 10 o'clock mass.

 "Praise the Lord, thank God He's on fire," and similar expressions were delivered in a loud voice to the consternation of worshippers at every church, Chief Russell Poole stated.

Brant was arrested at 2:30 p.m., Sunday, just as he was about to enter the Salvation Army hall on North Mulberry street, where services were going on. He was apprehended by Chief Russell Poole and Officer Jesse McKee, who lay in wait for him there because, as the chief put it, "the Salvation Army was the only place that was having services at that time of day."

Personal calls were made on some of the ministers earlier in the morning, Chief Poole said he was informed.

"I thought there was something queer about him after I had taken him to three churches, and he had come hurrying back to the cab after staying only a minute or so at each," Draher told the chief. He said he let him out the cab finally at Holiness Mission on Monroe avenue, where he collected $2.25 from him.

 "I am working for God," argued the man as police attempted to put him in a cell at headquarters. He calmed down when given his Bible, which he had carried with him, wrapped in a paper.

He was turned over to the probate court for examination Monday.

Chief Poole said the man had been residing at a Ewing Street rooming house for nearly two months, working out of Chillicothe as a salesman. His home, apparently, is Hamden, N. Y. He caused a commotion at the rooming house about midnight Saturday when he insisted on holding a prayer meeting.

Peregrinations of the "worker for God" apparently began last Wednesday night, when he attended prayer service at the First United Brethren church on East Main Street. Mr. August Wagner reported that the visitor requested the singing of certain hymns, then spoke at length, predicting that "something awful is going to happen in the east end of town before long." The Rev. W. L. Kuhen, pastor, finally reminded the speaker that another meeting was to convene shortly. On his way out the visitor tapped Mr. Kuhen on the shoulder and told him, "You'd better ask forgiveness or God’s going to punish you."

Early Sunday morning, Brant called on several pastors at their homes, asking for time on the morning service programs. Among these was the Rev. J.W. Morehead, pastor of Quinn Chapel A.M.E., at which the man did not, however, appear.

At Free Holiness

He called on the Rev. Katherine Hixon, pastor of Free Holiness Church, said he had "a message for the churches of Chillicothe", and was given permission to offer prayer at the Sunday school service. He arrived at Free Holiness about 10:30 a.m., inquired of Mrs. Hixon what time he should speak, then ran full speed out of the church. At 10:45 he returned. Mrs. Flora Graves, Sunday school superintendent, prevented him from offering prayer with the comment, "I beg your pardon, brother, but the Lord wants us to repeat the Lord's Prayer" -- which was done in unison. The visitors then took the platform, read the Ten Commandments, and declared, "Jesus is coming, get ready! Say a prayer and you'll be saved." Mrs. Hixon interrupted the address to remind her congregation that "repentance is also necessary" whereupon the men dashed out of the church through the back door.

Little Mary Doerres was delivering a Children's Day recitation at the First Presbyterian church, about the time Brant came in the front door. She spoke straight on, despite the interruption.

Shouts His Thoughts

Observers said Brant threw his hat to the floor, made a megaphone of his hands and shouted (according to varying reports) "Down with the Presbyterian church!" and “Jesus Christ has not yet been born." Earlier, Brant had come to the church and asked the Rev. Dr. P.B. Ferris for permission to take up a collection and make a speech. Dr. Ferris declined to grant either request.

At Trinity M.E. church, Brant approached the Rev. Dr. A. J. Kestle and asked permission to speak and pray at the Sunday school service. Dr. Kestle explained the program already was arranged and time would not permit a speech, but allowed Brant to offer a sentence prayer (customary at several types of service other than formal morning worship). The visitor's petition included a general invitation to the congregation to hear him speak that evening at Trinity, and to bring their friends, for "it might be the last time."

“Ran Real Fast”

Brant sought the Rev. August L. Schneider, pastor of Calvary Lutheran church. at the W.O. Greathouse residence near the church on West Main, where Mr. Schneider often goes between morning services. The pastor was not there; Brant then returned to the church looking for Mr. Schneider. Just at the close of Sunday school he appeared at the rear of the auditorium, shouted a message, and "ran real fast", observers said.

He called the Rev. Theodore Schlundt outside of St. John's Evangelical church, to ask permission to speak on the second coming of Christ. Mr. Schlundt explained that this method of approach was not in accord with practices of the church, and Brant quietly departed in his cab.

“Turning God Down”

At Salem Evangelical church, Brant found the Rev. E.H. Wierth upstairs and asked permission to speak and pray. Mr. Wierth replied that the work was organized and the program was full. "You're turning God down and not me," retorted Brant, who, according to Mr. Wierth, "seemed to be in a great hurry and left."

The voluntary missionary made three calls at the Church of the Nazarene, Monroe Avenue. He asked the Rev. W.W. Loveless to let him take charge of the services, and announced he would come in the evening to speak. During Sunday school he approached Mr. Loveless again, while the latter was teaching a class, declined an invitation to be seated with class, and said "If the preachers would help me I could turn old Chillicothe upside down." On his third visit he sat quietly in the church, Mr. Loveless said.

Brant appeared at Walnut Street M.E. church, during the Children's Day program, and spoke to several ushers, but made no disturbance, it was reported.

Arms Outspread

At St. Peter's church, the appearance of Brant was electrifying, observers said. There was a sudden sharp rattling of the handles of the outer doors. Then the inner swinging doors opening on the center aisle burst open, and Brant stood with arms outspread, facing the Rev. William J. Spiegel, of Pontifical College Josephinum, Worthington, who was delivering the sermon. The congregation rose to its feet by sudden irresistible impulse, and heard Brant shout between his hands, "Don't believe him! The word of God hasn't been born!" Two men nearby, anticipating violence, dashed up the balcony stairs to the choir loft, where the sound of their approach created a stir.

Brant rushed from the church, ran up and down the sidewalk looking for his cab and shouted, according to witnesses: "The second coming is at hand. Great balls of fire!"

Get License Number

Mr. Edward A. Keller took the cab license number as Brant drove away. Members of the congregation later sought and identified the taxi, elsewhere in the city.

Meantime, police were acting on repeated telephoned complaints. Brant realized he was being sought. He was seen in the early afternoon darting across East Fifth street lots, and stopped on one porch for a chat. "He said the police were after him," the resident reported, "and wanted to know if there was any way he could get away without the police seeing him. We told him we didn't think he would be bothered with the police around there, and finally we had to say we had another engagement. He said then that he would have to go, too, and he walked on down the street."

Cincinnati Enquirer, June 14, 1938.

First Presbyterian Church, where Brant interrupted "little Mary Doerres's" Children's Day recitation. To the right stands Brant's eventual destination in Chillicothe, the city jail (now the county records building). The church burned in 1956.

St. Peter's Church, scene of Brant's "electrifying" outburst.

Of Donuts & Dead Ends: Ghosts Of Chillicothe's Missing Main Street

Crispie Creme Donut Shop at the corner of Bridge and Second Sts., is a Chillicothe, Ohio tradition. So much so, that many people don't realize their business history predates the Chillicothe connection by over two decades. Founded in Mulberry, Kansas, in 1929 by ancestors of the current owners, the Renison family, Crispie Creme made several moves through the midwest before reaching Ohio in the 1940s, settling in Portsmouth, where Chillicothe's near identical sister store remains today. Chillicothe's first Crispie Creme location opened for business in March, 1953. Since then, Crispie Creme, known as "the one with the Cs instead of the Ks" to differentiate from the nationally known Krispy Kreme franchise (founded by a one-time business associate of the original company), has been synonymous with Chillicothe, much like "the Mead" and "Tecumseh!"

That first, nearly forgotten Crispie Creme location was at 264 E. Main St. If you want to visit that historic spot, well, you can't...at least not safely. You see, the building at 264 E. Main St. was at the end of Bridge Street. The dead end. Another interesting fact that many people living here may not know is that Bridge St. once ended at Main St. There was no "North" or "South." Mainly still a residential thoroughfare, it was not yet the shopping and wheeler-dealing mecca it is today. Traveling south on Bridge St. from the Scioto River, to go any farther south than Main St., one had little choice but to turn right and then make another left onto Hickory, Mulberry or Paint St., the latter being the main route through the southern terminus of the city limits.

The postwar national prosperity that allowed for the development of the interstate highway system, also sparked a boom of expansion and development for the city of Chillicothe. The period between 1951-1954 saw the construction of three new grade schools: Tiffin, Worthington, and Mt. Logan; the demolition of the long-obsolete Eastern School (where Speedway, Executive Inn, and McDonald's stand today); the widening of U.S. 23 south; and the expansion of Bridge St. The construction of the atomic plant at Portsmouth around the same time was the impetus for much of this development. Extending Bridge St. to meet up with the improved 23 South would allow for a straighter shot between the new plant and the state capital in Columbus (via Ohio's first capital), and would allow easier access to the new Tiffin Elementary and the existing Mead and Chilpaco plants as a bonus.

Naturally, extending Bridge Street from Main to 23 meant razing everything in its path. Besides relocating families from their homes on adjacent streets, it meant relocating the occupants of several buildings which had stood along E. Main St. for decades. In 1953, when Crispie Creme came to Chillicothe, its neighbors included, going eastward, Orland Ratcliff Motors, Herlihy Moving & Storage, and the aptly named eatery, Bridge End Lunch. Few photos survive of the "dead end" section of Main St., but one grainy photo, taken on a rainy, blustery looking day circa 1951 shows how it used to be.

The story of Chillicothe's first Crispie Creme starts with the Ohio House Hotel, operated by one Eugene O'Callaghan, a prominent member of Chillicothe's sizable Irish-American population, in the early part of the 19th century. A photo of the Ohio House, taken in 1876, shows a basic two-story structure of light brick, with shuttered windows and two entryways, one presumably to the separate "taproom" that was typical of 19th century hotels. The facade differs considerably from what is shown in that evocative photo from the mid-20th century. In approximately 1894, O'Callaghan died, and his family sold the hotel. The buyer was Henry Hydell, a grocer who had been in the business a decade, beginning at the age of 25 when he took over the grocery of Philip Seward at the corner of Water and Hickory Sts.

In the early 1880s, two prominent businessmen, John H. Putnam and Reinhard Wissler (the latter a member of the Wissler Brewery family), purchased land along different halves of the east side of Bridge St. starting at Main, and began building houses and business structures in the area. Putnam constructed a large store at the Main and Bridge, as well as a number of two story brick homes. Wissler, in particular, was enamored of French architecture and his structures were three-story edifices with mansard roofs. One in particular, at the northeast corner of Bridge and Second Sts., a combined store room and residence not too dissimilar to Putnam's building at Main and Bridge, figures into our story at two different points in history.

The occupant of Wissler's commercial-residential structure at Bridge and Second was John Higley, a relative of Wissler by marriage, who lived with his wife and two children in the upstairs apartment, and ran a grocery in the downstairs store. In 1888, Higley sold his stake in the store to Mr. Hydell, who moved his base of operations from Water and Hickory St. to Bridge and Second, and also lived in the apartment vacated by the Higleys. It was in this second location that he became the first grocer in Chillicothe to include an in-house meat department, adding a new level of convenience to his customers. He also operated his own slaughterhouse east of town. Five years later came his move to the former Ohio House. Hydell converted it from a hotel to two large storerooms and a spacious upstairs apartment. This may also be the time period in which the building was remodeled into its later appearance.

Henry Hydell's innovations, as well as his longevity in the E. Main St. location, earned him the title of "the dean of Chillicothe grocers." In September, 1936, Scioto Gazette publisher E.S. Wenis "cheerfully" inducted Hydell Grocery into the paper's 50 Year Club, "as an institution of quality, stability, and service to the public." During his tenure on E. Main St., Hydell's family grew to three sons and two daughters. Sons Clarence F. and Francis Hydell were assisting in daily operation of the store by the 1930s. In August, 1939, Henry Hydell retired, and Clarence took over as proprietor. His first executive decision was to remodel the store, moving the meat department into the grocery section, and rent out the storeroom at 266 E. Main St.

The former Hydell meat department was briefly occupied by the Cycle Shop which moved from N. Walnut St. in 1941. In May, 1943, John D. Herlihy Sr., founder of Herlihy Moving & Storage, who had occupied 268 and 270 E. Main St., divested himself of a related tire sales business, and moved his company offices into the space, where it remained until the buildings were demolished. In November, 1945, Bridge End Lunch opened in the previous Herlihy office at 268 E. Main (which was an A&P Grocery store in the mid-1920s, in direct competition to Hydell's), where it remained until the end of 1952. A little over a year later, "the dean of Chillicothe grocers," Henry Hydell, passed away at the age of 85.

Then, in November, 1947, it was announced abruptly that delivery service by Hydell's Grocery would be discontinued, and on December 2, 1947, the first of several ads ran advertising a 20% discount on all grocery stock, as well as a sale on modern grocery equipment. There was no formal announcement that the store would be closing, nor have I found any reason for Hydell's Grocery going out of business. Then in early January, 1948, C&J Electric Shop ran ads saying "We Are Now Open In Our NEW LOCATION At 264 E. Main St." with no further apparent fanfare. C&J Electric Shop was there until October 1951, when Model Dry Cleaners opened their third location in the spot.


In early 1953, Crispie Creme finally enters the picture, opening somewhere around March, when Chillicothe Telephone Co. installed a new line in their name at 264 E. Main St. An article from April 16, 1953, states that the city Planning Commission had approved the construction of their sign over the sidewalk at that address. Otherwise, the soon-to-be-legendary shop seems to have opened to no apparent fanfare. Could it be because Chillicothe already had the similarly named Dixie Cream Donut Shop, which opened in 1947 and was currently in the old fire station on N. Mulberry St.? :-) Crispie Creme's first year in Chillicothe indeed seems to have been low-key with one exception.

On December 30, 1953, Clarence Hydell, who still owned the property at 264-66 E. Main St., ran an ad for an "Auction Sale Of Household Goods" to be held on January 2. The announcement began "As the state is taking my building for highway purposes..." not just a little bitterly. A small blurb in "Amelia Hydell's Column" of December 23 had quietly announced that "Crispy Cream" had been removed by Herlihy (somewhat ironically) from its current address to High and Water Sts. (across from St. Peter's Church). In January, 1954, the state highway department began running legal notices in the Gazette, soliciting bids for the demolition of a long list of properties that had been acquired by the state, including the former Hydell Grocery. In February, it was announced that local contractor Harold Corkwell had made the winning $45 bid on the property. The former A&P/Herlihy/Bridge End property with its attached structures went to a contractor from The Plains for $150.50, while the winning bid on Herlihy's garage at 270 E. Main was $10.

By springtime, all traces of the buildings were gone, and the construction of S. Bridge St./U.S. 23 was in full swing. Herlihy Moving & Storage relocated their main operations to N. Walnut St. Model Dry Cleaners maintained their previous locations. C&J Electric was now on W. Second St. Of all the businesses that occupied 264-270 E. Main St. in the first half of the 1950s, C&J Electric (on W. Main St. today) and Herlihy (who relocated for good to Marietta Rd. in 1970) are still going strong. Traffic whizzes along the stretch of Bridge St. that didn't even exist 65 years ago, few motorists aware of the history that was wiped out by Atomic Age progress.

As for Crispie Creme, there were a few rough patches along the road to legendary status. In March of 1954, the shop was granted a one-year permit to remain in business at the High and Water location, termed a hardship case as being a relatively young business forced to relocate after less than a year. In October 1957, it was reported that the shop had overstayed its permit by two years, and the city Board Of Appeals was compelled to ask them to vacate the address ASAP. Owner James Renison announced his intention to plead for an extension, having been unable to find another location. The Board obviously relented as Crispie Creme remained at High and Water into the early 1960s. Thus it was to everyone's chagrin when, in the early morning hours of May 6, 1961, a semi-truck from Hennis Freight Lines barrelled through the front of the shop after colliding with a convertible at the intersection, destroying a display case and a donut glazer, and causing considerable damage to the building. The shop was up and running, on a limited basis, by the following week.

After several years of legal pressures, the Renison family built a thoroughly modern, state-of-the-art new location of their own, which opened in the spring of 1965, and thrives to this day. It's one of my favorite places on earth, personally speaking. In a final bit of historical irony, the current Crispie Creme Donut Shop, which first occupied the former Hydell Grocery, is at the northeast corner of Bridge and Second Sts., built on the site of Henry's previous store.


(Below are views of the approximate area of 264-270 E. Main St. in July 1954, and a current view from Google Maps. The two story brick building in these, photos, now occupied by Carlisle Barber Shop, can be seen at far left in the 1951 view near the beginning of the article)

The Day Swede Came To Town

Anyone who pays attention to my Facebook page knows I'm a history buff, especially when it comes to my hometown of Chillicothe, Ohio. I love picking out details from old photographs, using them as a springboard for research to find out more of the history behind those photographs.

The first two photos here are from an album Chip Daniels posted on Facebook a few years back of photos taken by his father, a photographer for Mead Paper. They were identified simply as "Paint St. Carnival, Early '60s." There was an air of mystery about the photos among some of the commenters on the post, who only remembered circuses and carnivals being held in Yoctangee Park, either on the site of the current city pool, or the parking lot next to the baseball diamond where carnivals are still held today. Nobody could remember one right on one of the main downtown streets, yet here was photographic proof.

Capt. Carl "Swede" Johnson in his "steel arena" on Chillicothe's N. Paint St., 1964.

One detail stood out originally, the name "Swede Johnson" painted on the side of the trailer by the animal cages. Some research on the Internet turned up the name of Carl "Swede" Johnson, who was an animal trainer for the soon-to-be-defunct Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus and various other circuses over 55 years. He was also a circus clown, a member of the Clown Hall Of Fame, in fact. As a trainer he was known for his humane techniques which involved no whips, pistols, or other scare tactics. After retirement, he lived in Punta Gorda, FL, until his death in the early 1970s. The research turned up a couple of the black and white photos shown here.

Recently, Chip reposted his dad's photos, and I decided to see if I could dig up more information about how Swede Johnson's animal act ended up Chillicothe, Ohio, in the early '60s. I came across another photo of Johnson that I hadn't previously seen, in the Florida State University archive. The photo, dated July 3, 1959, shows Johnson guiding a lion on a "high wire" in his act at the Paul A. Miller Circus. Another clue! So I Googled the name. There's not a whole lot about these small-time circuses online, but I got several hits, including one for an appearance by the Miller Circus at Ridgeview Shopping Center, in Lorain County, Ohio, not far from Cleveland in 1960.

Courtesy of the Harrison Sayre Circus Collection, Florida State University.

It turns out that the Miller Circus toured the Midwest in the 1960s, usually promoting shopping centers by appearing in their parking lots. The Ridgeview stop was one such promotion. The poster, shown below, lists among the featured performers "Capt. 'Hunky' Johnson and Capt. 'Swede' Johnson and Lions performing in outdoor steel arena." The poster also mentions "kiddie rides," some of which appear in other photos of the Chillicothe stop.

Ad for the Paul A. Miller Circus appearance at Ridgeview Shopping Center, from the Lorain (OH) Journal, 1960.
Courtesy of "Brady's Lorain County Nostalgia."

I'm now fairly certain that it's the Paul A. Miller Circus that visited Chillicothe, Ohio in the early '60s...but when? This time around, another "blink and you'll miss it" detail caught my eye. In the photos from Chip's collection, Johnson's "steel arena" is set up directly in front of the Warner Hotel building which still stands in downtown Chillicothe (the hotel itself closed in 1963). Visible on the awning of the hotel building is a banner which reads "Ross County Democratic Headquarters." Those signs only pop up in election years. In the 1960s there were three -- 1960, 1964, and 1968.

Daniels told me that his father left Mead Paper in 1966, and agreed with me that 1963/1964 seems the most likely time period for these photos (he also remembers going to a speech in town by Sen. Barry Goldwater, who lost to Lyndon B. Johnson -- no relation to Hunky or Swede, I would imagine -- in that year's election). He says 1960 would be too early -- he was only 3, too young, he feels to remember the circus as much as he does.

Unidentified circus act, N. Paint St. Chillicothe, 1964.

In a 1960 "Billboard" article about the Miller Circus that mentions the Ridgeview Shopping Center appearance, it is stated that Miller had two units touring, each with 12 rides, concessions and the circus, presented on a stage with a "big top style background." One unit, then in its fourth season, was "tied in with a shopping center promotion under the name of 'Easy Living,' sponsored by Red Book magazine." It's a bit of a mystery why the Miller Circus would have appeared in downtown Chillicothe in 1963 or 1964 when it was mainly presented in shopping malls. At the time, Chillicothe had one shopping mall, Central Center, which opened in 1956. A second mall, Zane Plaza, opened in 1964, and would presumably have been under construction when the circus came to town.

The Paul A. Miller Circus also included various "kiddie rides."

Downtown Chillicothe's status as the town's commerce center had not yet been usurped by the malls, although by 1968 there was an attempt to lure shoppers back by turning this very stretch of N. Paint St. into a "pedestrian mall" with flower beds, playground equipment and fountains. The experiment was short-lived. Curiously, the pedestrian mall was considered little more than a nuisance among motorists and the very business owners the "Paint St. Mall" was supposed to benefit. But that event was still several years in the future, with the Miller Circus being an even more temporary downtown "disruption," much like today's annual Feast Of The Flowering Moon.

Chances are we are unlikely to see a spectacle quite like this on the streets of Chillicothe again. Swede Johnson's long time employer Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus will soon end its 146-year reign as "The Greatest Show On Earth," while smaller circuses have long been falling out of favor with animal rights activists.

A few more notes on Carl "Swede" Johnson: He was born in Denmark in 1903. Shortly after arriving in the United States, he took the first job he could find -- as a rodeo clown. He then became a circus clown, performing as a clown with various shows, while also developing his animal training skills. Besides his affiliation with the Ringling Bros. and Paul Miller Circuses, he also was connected with Bradley & Benson Circus & Rodeo, C.R. Montgomery Circus, Elks Circus, Shrine Circus, Biller Brothers, Rogers Brothers, and Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus. Johnson retired to Punta Gorda, Florida, where he died Mar. 3, 1977. He is buried at Indian Spring Cemetery in Punta Gorda.

(BLOGGER'S NOTE: This article was originally a Facebook post on my own page, fleshed out from comments I made on Chip's post on "You Know You're From Chillicothe, Ohio When..." following my research into Swede Johnson. Many thanks go to the online archive of FSU, Brady's Lorain County Nostalgia, Clown Hall Of Fame, Findagrave.com, and of course, Chip Daniels)

Carl "Swede" Johnson, animal trainer. (Courtesy of clownpictures.info)

Carl "Swede" Johnson, Clown Hall Of Fame member, 1903-1977.
(Courtesy of clownpictures.info)