Portage Historical Society

I spoke to about 25-30 members of the Portage Historical Society last evening. First I told them about how Steel Shavings magazine got started (to publish family histories written by IUN students and record other aspects of social life in the Calumet Region). Then I mentioned what went into the Portage issue (volume 20) that came out in 1991, including articles and interviews some of my seminar students did as well as interviews I conducted with politicians Cortie Wilson and William Westergren. I recruited 18 Historical Society members to read quotes from old-timers who had been interviewed by Portage High School students in 1981 about life during World War I and the 1920s. Passing out magazines with the various people’s lines marked with red ink, I told the volunteers they could keep the magazine when we were done, an incentive that apparently worked.

Before the group performance, former student and friend Bruce Sawochka read an excerpt from his article “Portage in Three Stages of Its Growth.” In between the “Pioneer Era” and the “Big Bang Period” starting in the 1950s were the quiet years of farms, villages such as Crisman, McCool and Garyton, and one-room schoolhouses. I got chuckles mentioning that one teacher was also a preacher and closed school on funeral days but then made students make the day up on Saturday. The reading experiment went very well with people almost always talking loud enough and picking up on their cues (I was well organized, having employed this method of shared participation in talks about the city of Gary). When I had run out of male volunteers, Lois Mollick offered to assume the role of Marvin Guernsey and drew laughs when she read his lines with a deep voice. One woman turned out to be the granddaughter of one of the Anderson brothers, Elmer and Walter. Elmer recalled: “I got a job working in the mill before we had the eight-hour day. I worked in the mill nights, and then in the daytime I worked on the farm.”

During the question period I mentioned that I lived in Portage but that my neighborhood, Edgewater, was disappearing because it was within the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. When someone asked about the big slide in Ogden Dunes during the Twenties, I replied that one could read about it in my “Tales of Lake Michigan and the Indiana Dunelands” issue (volume 28). I also got in a plug for Ron Cohen and Steve McShane’s book on South Shore posters, “Moonlight in Duneland: The Illustrated History of the Chicago South Shore and South Bend Railroad” One man said he was thinking about writing a book about stories from his years working at U.S. Steel, and I encouraged him and told him about Richard Dorson’s book “Land of the Millrats” and my Shavings volume (no. 19) on “Steelworkers Tales.”

I had spoken to the group in 2006 when my “Centennial History of Gary” came out. Lois Mollick remembered me and told the group that she had been interviewed by two of my students (excerpts appeared in my Postwar issue “Age of Anxiety” (volume 34). Turns out she and a friend skipped school to see Frank Sinatra sing at a Tolerance concert held at Gary’s Memorial Auditorium during the 1945 Froebel School Strike. Someone else reported seeing Nat King Cole perform with his trio at Memorial Auditorium. I took that opportunity to mention that African-American celebrities often went to Midtown for ribs at Mae’s Louisiana Kitchen but that Roosevelt principal Theo Tatum thought the place to be disreputable and prohibited his teachers from frequenting Mae’s because he thought it would reflect badly on the school’s image.

Afterwards helped myself to some of the many cookies on hand and chatted with Barb Borg-Jenkins, the South Haven librarian who had originally invited me to talk. She had read about Ronald Osgood’s “My Vietnam Your Iraq” documentary on my blog and hopes to purchase a copy after it is completed. Another Historical Society officer told me that her sister had done an article for my “Brothers in Arms” issue. Turned out she was referring to Sherril Tokarski, one of my all-time favorite students, who also wrote about a family grocery store in Glen Park for my 1980s issue (volume 38), “The Uncertainty of Everyday Life.” (the title was fitting, as the store was robbed several times during the decade) As I was leaving, Barb Borg-Jenkins said, “Come back any time.” I was flattered and pleased with how everything went. I think at least two folks are planning a visit to the Archives.

My first Shavings issue was just 40 pages long while volume 40 is more than seven times as thick at 304 pages. The Portage issue, 96 pages, was the first to have a spine (not until volume 23 was there writing on the spine, however) and one of the last pre-computer issues that had to be retyped and therefore re-proofread by the printer. As Bruce Sawochka was finishing the reading the paragraph I had assigned him, he said at loud, “This is quite good.” That was also my feeling when going through the entire magazine. There are articles covering work experiences, school activities, church functions, July Fourth celebrations, Little League, Girl Scouts, trailer court life, the Bonner Center for senior citizens, and much more. In my “Editor’s Personal Note” I mentioned playing softball for Porter Acres at Woodland Park (its clubhouse was the site of the History Society meeting), taking my mother-in-law Blanche to play bingo in a church basement, and watching my granddaughter Alissa do puzzles at the public library.

Back home, I opened “Brothers in Arms” to Sherril Tokarski’s article, which dealt with her brother-in-law Charles Hubert Stanley being in a three-day battle in Vietnam during the Tet offensive. The sister I met seemed too young to have been married in 1967, but who knows? In his last letter to his wife Linda the young first lieutenant said he looked forward to seeing her soon on R and R in Hawaii. Then Sherril writes: “March 1968 – a green car arrives at our home. The soldiers inform my sister that her husband was killed. A defective grenade in his ammo pouch exploded while he was waiting for a chopper to airlift him out of the field at Binh Long province.” Sherril adds: “A young man died far from home for a lie delivered to all Americans by those we trusted. He never got a chance to buy his first home, hold his first child, have the great pride in his children, hold his grandchildren, and grow old or even middle aged. It has been 40 years since he died in that far away place, but he has not been forgotten. We are proud of you and will always love you.”

David Malham sent me two emails, a link to an Esquire article about film critic Roger Ebert called “The Essential Man” and a plea to sign a petition protesting the History Channel’s plans to show a scabrous biopic of John F. Kennedy next year on the fiftieth anniversary of his election as President. Got a call from Post-Tribune reporter Andy Grimm soliciting my reaction to the Gary Library Board changing the name of the Ora Wildermuth Miller branch to Carter Woodson, thereby honoring “the father of Negro History.” A couple years ago a historiancame across and published racist letters Wildermuth, Gary’s first librarian, wrote to IU President Herman Wells while he was on IU’s Board of Trustees opposing integration of dorms. Wildermuth argued that it would lead to intermarriage and that would be horrible. While Grimm mentioned that Wildermuth’s views were no different than most whites of his time, I told him I agreed with the Board’s decision.