Watch Yourself Go By

by Al. G. Field

"I hope John will do better when you git settled in Columbus an' I know he will. Alfred's mos' a man grown an' he'll be a big help to his pap if ye'll jes' take him right. I jes' told John day afore yisterday—I ses, ses I—'Alfurd's no child enny more and you ought not tu treat him like a boy.' I want you all to write me and tell me how yu like it. I s'pose when yu git out in Ohio you'll all git the ager. Uncle Wilse's folks did and they shook thar teeth loose. They moved to Tuscarrarus County. Newcomerstown was thar post office. They wrote us they wanted to kum back home afore they was there a month.

"It's bad fur ole peepul to change their hums. Hits all right fur young folks kase they're not settled an' they soon fergit the old love fur the new, but I hope you'll like hit. John says the railroads kum into Columbus from both ways an' the cars are comin' an' goin' all the time. If you live close tu the depot you won't sleep much kase you hain't used tu hit."

Lin's fears were not realized. Alfred's home was far from the depot. It was in the South End, in fact, the South End was Columbus in those days.

Those who guided the destinies of railroads were as wise in those days as these of the present. The site of Coony Born's father's brewery was selected as the most desirable location for a passenger depot. The good people of Columbus (the South End) were more jealous of their rights than the people of today when a railroad is supposed to be encroaching upon them; therefore when it was proposed to locate a depot where the noise would disturb their slumbers and their setting hens, the opposition of not the few, but many, was aroused. To locate the depot in their midst was an invasion of their rights. Not only would it disturb the quietude of their homes but it would be a menace to their business inasmuch as it would attract undesirable strangers. The business men of the South End had their regular customers and did not care to take chances with strangers. They admitted a depot was a necessity—a sort of nuisance—to be tolerated, but not approved.

Railroad people of those days were as inconsistent as those of today. They were spiteful. They built a depot outside the city limits, as near the line of demarcation as possible.

North Public Lane, now Naghten Street, was the north city limits. The South End had won. They celebrated their victory over the railroads by a public demonstration. Hessenauer's Garden was crowded. The principal speaker, in eloquent Low Dutch, congratulated the citizens on the preservation of their rights—and slumbers. He highly complimented them over the fact that they had forced the railroads to locate their depot as far from the South End as the law and the city limits would permit.

The new depot was connected with the city by a cinder path, nor could the city compel the builders of the new depot to lay a sidewalk. The depot people claimed the land thereunder would revert to the city. Therefore, in the rainy seasons incoming travelers carried such quantities of the cinder walk on their feet that the sidewalks of High Street appeared to strangers in mourning for the sad mistake of those who platted the town in confining the city forever to one street.

Every incoming locomotive deposited its ashes on the cinder path. The city could not remove the ashes as rapidly as they accumulated. The task was abandoned and to this day no continuous efforts are made to keep the streets of Columbus clean. Like the good fraus of the South End cleaning house, the streets are cleaned once a year—near election time.

There was no population north of Naghten Street until after the erection of the depot. It is true there were a few North of Ireland folks living in the old Todd Barracks, and many of their descendants to this day can be found on Neil Avenue; yet they had no political power at that time; in fact the South End people, with that supreme indifference which characterizes those who have possession by right of inheritance, did not even note the invasion of the city by the Yankees and Puritans from Worthington and Westerville. It was not until Pat Egan was elected coroner that the residents of the South End realized a candidate of theirs could be laid out by a foreigner.

It was in those days that Alfred was introduced to Columbus. They were the good old days, when all thrifty people made their kraut on All Hallowe'en and the celebration of Schiller's birthday was only overshadowed by that of Washington's; when the first woods were away out in the country and quail shooting good anywhere this side of Alum Creek. The State Fair grounds (Franklin Park) were in the city.