LIFE IN THE WINTER ON KELLEYS ISLAND - PART 2 - WINTER AMUSEMENTS

C. C. Townley, manager of the Island House hotel for several years,  wrote a lengthy article about winter life on Kelleys Island. In this, part 2, he shares how the Islanders kept themselves busy before radios, telephones, computers, televisions, and even electric lights!

The Islanders are generally a large hearted, intelligent people, well up to the ways of the world with the happy faculty of making money and disbursing it judiciously. Isolated a greater portion of the winter, they are thrown upon their own resources for amusement, consequently nearly all take an active interest in any pastime that will help shorten the long winter. They are all great readers, not only keeping themselves thoroughly posted on the leading topics of the day but readily devouring nearly everything readable that comes in their way. Statistics at the Post Office show that there are more newspapers, magazines, etc. delivered there than at any other office of similar population in the country.

There are several churches, good schools… well attended, a source of great pride and great interest to the Islanders, an amateur dramatic club of equal interest, a Lyceum, several gatherings and many incidentals that go to fill up the time.

At one time, the Island boasted five churches, but in 1874 there were just four: the German Reformed church (1860), St. Michael’s Catholic church, The congregational Church formed in 1866 (but they did not build their church until 1877), and the Methodist church (1873).

 

 

 

Until 1901 when Estes School was built, there were four school districts. The best known was the stone school house. The others were small one-room schools.

 

As dancing is considered one of the most attractive and harmless of amusements among these people, from the gray-haired pioneer to the child of five years, this amusement is alike enjoyed with equal zest. As an evidence of how it is looked upon, we remark that the first New Years party of our residence there, was duly announced in the regular weekly prayer meeting of the church the evening previous. We have seen the superintendent, who on the Sabbath day morning points the way upward to the little child in the Sabbath school, at another time leading the same little one through the intricate mazes of the dance. We speak of these things with no feeling of levity, for all who know the minister and his people will readily vouch for their consistent Christian lives, possessing we believe, less guile than many with greater pretensions toward stricter discipline. It is sufficient excuse for them in countenancing this, that it helps to wear off the ragged edges of winter life.

Townley managed the Island House and opened its doors to winter parties, celebrations and gatherings, including the New Years party. The Island house is the building on the right.

The success of the grape is the beginning and end of the Islander’s hopes. To many, their very existence depends on it. With this their expenses are kept up, their taxes paid, and their ministers supported. When it fails, many are nearly in as deplorable condition as the grass hopper-plagued people of Nebraska.

The average Islander is a queer compound, a curious study to the novice. Reared near the water, he is more at home in the element or on the ice than he is on the shore. Seeing danger in its various forms, he becomes reckless and careless of his own life. Warm-hearted and generous to a fault, he never hesitates in going to one’s assistance in distress. He takes the world easy and like Mark Tapley, is jolly under all circumstances. If his vineyard gives a generous yield, or if successful in fishing, well and good. If on the contrary, the blight is on his grapes and the fish go in a different direction from the nets; well and good. Again he cares but little for the future and lets tomorrow take care of itself. With all this he is not wanting in heroism.

The writer, having occasion to cross the Lake in winter, remembers with such feelings of gratitude as to cause a lump to rise in his throat, when he thinks of the tender care received from the hands of these brave men. ‘Tis a point of honor among these men never to talk of any services they have rendered to those in distress, but for all that, lesser deeds of heroism have ere thus been embalmed in story and in song.

Your average Islander has some notable traits that are consistent with his daily life. He will walk across the Island at midnight or row a boat to Sandusky to do you a kindness without thought of remuneration; but if you want to hire him for a day’s work he will refuse. Or if after urging he accepts, he will half do your work and then charge you four prices for his labor. When he arises in the morning, he first looks at the thermometer, then ascertains in what direction the wind is blowing, after which he again returns to his downy couch and makes the ‘partner of his broom’ get up and build the fires. It takes him till after Christmas to get fixed for the winter.

In January he visits his neighbors and puts in the balance of his time at the store. In February he stays more at home, having become tired of seeing the same faces and in March he ceases to consult the looking glass, having become disquieted with the sight of himself. Everyday for weeks he stands on the shore and casts a wistful eye towards the bay for the first sign of smoke to appear from the chimney of the expected steamer.

The winds never blow so fierce, nor the snow so deep, but that he can get to the store. No matter if his wife has to cut the firewood or wade through the same snow for a bucket of water. When the sidewalks become impassible, he coolly takes to the bare spots in the middle of the road. A half hours’ labor with a shovel would be considered among the impossibilities.

 The Store on the Corner, better known as The Lodge, was considered the Center of the Universe for news and for good reason. It was located just up the hill from the steamboat dock, it housed the telegraph and later the first telephone, the Post Office. It became known as The Lodge because it was the home of The Independent Order of Island Loafers, and was the gathering place for Island men in the winter. It is the building on the left.

The Store, the rendezvous alike for the man of business and the idler, is a study to the novice. The arrangement of the goods would astonish the fastidious tastes of the city dry-goods man. Here everything is sold and everything is arranged for utility and convenience. You can always tell what was the last thing called for, whether it be a crow-bar or a calico dress, a paper of pima or a pitch fork, for the article that was last shown is always on top and when anything else is wanted, the merchant digs down and skirmishes till he finds it. Here every item of news or gossip is discussed and sifted, from the latest conversation on the main land to the best remedy for a sick cow. Here Presidents are made, the Alabama claims adjusted, the question settled as to what is best done about that little Virginian’s affair, and here the financial affairs of the country are properly fixed up. In his discussions at the store, the astonishing amount of wisdom that is some time displayed would throw Jack Bunsby of the ‘Cautious Clara’ [from the Dickens story] into convulsions.

Given a fair prospect for a crop of grapes, a checker board, and an empty nail keg to sit on, the average Islander will never sigh for a greater Elysian.

 Checkers was a popular past time at The Lodge. In fact, Erastus Huntington wrote a regular Checker problem column for the Sandusky Register. Pictured here are from L to R: Charles Martin and Charles Erne. Sitting, Erastus Huntington, Charles Carpenter, J. Woodford, Oscar Dean and Titus Hamilton.

Such an imperfect sketch of winter life and some of its characters, with all of its little drawbacks, the pleasant avocations connected with the five years’ residence there, will ever occupy a warm place in our memory and the many kindnesses received from those warm hearted people will never be forgotten.” C. C. Townley

This is the last that Islanders would hear from Townley. Calvin C. Townley was the first proprietor of the Atlantic House in Mansfield in 1865. He was a widower, 42 years old. His wife, Cephelia A. Townley, died on December 13, 1865 at 31 years of age. He arrived on the island with his four children; Mamie, 15, Grace, 13, Charles, 9 and Lula, 7 years old and his mother-in-law, Mrs. Bosworth. He was involved in community activities, organizing and appearing in many plays, and opening up his hotel for island parties and festivities. But when the Island House was sold in April 1874, he left the Island, relocating back to Mansfield. By 1880, the Census showed that he had moved to Cleveland and was living with his three daughters and mother-in-law.

Unfortunately, bad news came to the family. On October 15, 1881, an article in the Wooster Republic indicated that his son, Charles C. Townley Jr., committed suicide by shooting himself. He was living in Alamosa Colorado and was just 21 years old. His third daughter, Grace, married Oscar Schwartout of Cleveland in September 1882. Mary, his oldest daughter, married Joe Julian and Lula married Howard Kimble, both of Kansas City, Mo. in November 1887.

It is always difficult to determine what circumstances lead up to a decline, but in 1888, Townley was adjudged insane in Cleveland and sent to the asylum. Less than two years later, he died while still under care at the facility. The Richland Shield & Banner reported on September 13, 1890 – “The remains of C. C. Townley, who died in Cleveland, Saturday night, were brought to this city today and interred in the Mansfield Cemetery under the auspices of the Masonic order. Mr. Townley is an old resident of Mansfield and was for a number of years identified with the hotel business here. He was born in Ithaca, N. Y. and at the time of his death he was 64 years, 11 months and 18 days old. He leaves three daughters, Mr. H. Kimble (Lula), and Mrs. Joe Julian of Kansas City Mo., and Mrs. Oscar Schwartout of Cleveland.”

 

From the book: Kelleys Island 1872-1876 the Hotels, the Telegraph & the Lime Company, by Leslie Korenko