Former Fostoria resident tours city and museum
November 11, 1988

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Pix #1 - The Puse family after they had completed a tour at the Museum. Reading left to right. Top row: Doug Bristow, Lois Cichrane, Ervin Puse, Jane Puse, Vickie Gibbons, Paul Krupp (author), Bill Shaw. Second Row: Cheryl Bristow, Vicki Gibbons. Third Row: Ryan Bristow, Lisa Gibbons.

Pix #2 - Jane Shaw as a girl, when she was growing up in Fostoria and enjoying twirling the baton...all through college. As an adult and mother she still twirls it occasionally.

(Author’s Note: My, how the days and weeks fly by. The last published Potluck article appeared July 21. The leadoff of that one was “It’s time to lay aside my pen, cover the typewriter and get ready for a much needed vacation.”

At that time I thought in terms of perhaps a month, but, honestly I never thought it would extend into November. During the passing weeks I scarcely turned a hand to do anything around our house.

Then in October we spent two weeks in Florida, visiting with our daughter Jane and her family of two daughters, including two grand-daughters, which make me an my wife great-grandparents.

It’s not easy to pick up where you leave off, but that’s what I decided it was time to do.

Today’s article is one that I had prepared when the Puse family came back to Fostoria to visit earlier this year. Lucky me... to have it.

So, having written the afore paragraphs and now committed, I pledge to have Potluck in print the rest of 1988 and into 1989.

Wish me well!)

It was a great treat for Jane Shaw Puse, a member of the FHS class of 1938, when she returned to Fostoria to look her birthplace over and to tour The Fostoria Historical Society Museum, on a visit here this past summer.

It was a great treat for this author, too, to have the opportunity to show her through the museum, and talk to her about the Crocker family, of which she is a part.

Her ancestors, the Crockers, resided in the stately brick house on E. South St., where Dan and Karen Wolph now live, and Mrs. Puse grew up in the house just east of it, where he parents, Mrs. and Mrs. Russel Shaw resided. Both of those houses were mentioned in Potluck articles several years ago.

Mrs. Puse recalls past events

the following paragraphs are excerpted from a letter received from Mrs. Puse after returning to her home in Scottsdale, Ar., where she and her husband reside.

I’m sure many readers will enjoy her recollections from the past years and some will identify to them.

She told this author It was great to take her family group to the black cat for lunch where “the younger set” hung out years ago when the “cat” was a gathering place.

Wainwright Band Camp still good memories

I know E. E. Smith was band director in 1936, but am not certain when jack Wainwright was there. Under Smith, no girls were allowed in the band, so I was unable to be involved with my clarinet. While attending Wainwright’s Band Camp at La Grange, Ind., I started baton lessons along with clarinet lessons.

Wainwright’s Band Camp was educational and fun, lasting eight weeks. There were sections for boys and girls sleeping quarters in cabins, and our meals were provided in a large permanent building.

:Instrument practice areas were set up throughout the wooded parts of the immense acres of the camp site. Musical lessons, band practice, and may recreational activities were scheduled each day, and entertainment programs were planned for evenings.

Al Sawdy on Wainwright staff

my water program included Junior Lifesaving, and diving. A nostalgic memory is of Al Sawdy, the swimming instructor. He was excellent. He constantly encouraged us to swim across the lake (approx., 3/4 - 1 mile.)

Al and/or an assistance rowed along beside us so there was no danger. At that time the “knock, knock” jokes were poplar, so one of the boys and I swam across together telling each other those jokes to prevent boredom.

Each Wednesday evening we band members piled into a horse-drawn wagon and rode the six miles to LaGrange to present a free concert to the residents. Betty Wainwright was an accomplished harpist by then, and about the only harpist at camp as I remember.

Recalls Betty Wainwright, others Following graduation from FHS in 1938 I attended a band camp at BGU, John Kappell, Toledo Univ., drillmaster, taught baton. He offered me a scholarship to Toled9o U as head drum majorette, but I turned it down in preference to BGU.

Dick Fruth from Fostoria was head drum major so Jim Falls of Bowling Green and I joined as his assistants, I was the only girl in the band.

Beginning with my sophomore year at BF I became head drum majorette with a couple of assistants. During my senior year another girl joined me as a majorette. We were still the only females in the bans.

Thus, my fun years of twirling would never have happened if I hadn’t participated at Wainwright’s Band Camp. I still enjoy twirling one or two batons every so often.

Toured old home in Fostoria

After leaving you at the Museum, we received a tour through the first floor of our former home at 133 E. south St. The owners seemed a little hesitant at first, but were quite friendly by he time we left.

He realized I had really lived there after mentioning various rooms, the back stairs, etc.

We ;used to keep the old fashioned bike with the huge front wheel in the attic, and I enjoyed riding it. Wish I had it now.”

Heed God’s Word

Often, as I search for appropriate and helpful thoughts that can be beneficial to the readers of this column, I find something in print that, although is not taken from God’s word in the Holy Bible, yet reflects His desires for all mankind.

such is the following, as contributed by Richard A. Miller, Springfield, J.J. and as printed in Herald of Holiness, (Nazarene publication, Sept. 15, 1988)

All That I Can Be

God, who authored saving grace,
Who stoops in love to Adam’s race;
Who died and rose to set men free:

Now by your grace renew my soul.
Come with your holy, purging coal;
I let your spirit take control;
Lord, make me all that I can be.
Break through my coldness and my fears;
Give me a vision wet with tears;
dissolve my pride, my lethargy.
Remove my carnal selfishness.
My lurking doublemindedness.
And with thy poured-out Sprit bless;
Lord, make me all that I can be.