The Perils of Pauline and Ray

In honor of Dad's (Ray Leary) 121st birthday, here's a story I've never shared with you before. It needs some buildup.

The silent film series, The Perils of Pauline were mostly filmed in Ithaca, NY. Ithaca was the Hollywood of the silent film era. The gorges, waterfalls, and beautiful Cayuga Lake- all of which I show you pictures of when I go home- created dramatic backdrops for the cliffhanger stories.

Pauline was played by an actress by the name of Pearl White, a native of the Ozarks. The films all had the same plot. Pauline would end up in some sort of mortal peril, and then she would be rescued, usually by a handsome man such as Creighton Hale or Lionel Barrymore. You've probably heard his name at least. Here is Pearl with (maybe) Ted Wharton who with his brother Leo were the big name filmmakers of the era. The 20 Pauline movies were made between 1914 and 1919.

Now we switch to a journalist/ author named Arch Merrill. He lived from 1894-1974. If you are from the Finger Lakes area of New York, you are probably familiar with his books. Some are collections of newspaper columns, others were written as books. They are filled with highly readable tales of the history and culture of the Finger Lakes. Some titles are Slim Fingers Beckon, Tomahawks and Old Lace, The Towpath- you get the idea.

In his book Upstate Echoes, there is a chapter about the era of silent films. He focuses on Pearl White, giving this description. "She wore slacks and smoked cigarettes at a time when women just did not do those things." She drove a canary yellow Stutz Bearcat, usually at breakneck speeds. She was arrested in Trumansburg (a town near my hometown) for speeding, paid the fine and swore at the judge.

In that same book is a story which I will quote:

And there's the tale of the teenaged lad who had long worshiped the actress from afar. One day while standing in his yard, he saw the yellow car stop in front of the house and the angel of his dreams step out. She advanced toward him and the boy blushed and trembled. No doubt the actress, struck by his manly beauty, was going to offer him a ride. Disillusionment was swift and complete when his idol called out: "Little boy, may I use your bathroom?"

Dad always claimed that he was the boy. It's possible. The time frame is correct. The house was on the main highway north from Ithaca and just five miles from Trumansburg. Dad was not given to tall tales or bragging, so it wasn't in his nature to make up stories.

Here is Dad on the porch of the house (with his parents). He looks to me to be 14-16 years old, which puts the years at 1918-1921, but it could have been a year or so earlier. The photo is not dated, and Dad always seemed to look older than his years in every picture I have of him as a child. So this would be about when this episode took place.



Here he is in what I think is 1922. I think this is his high school graduation picture and he would have been almost 18.



At any rate, enjoy the humorous tale. I like to think it was Dad!

Interestingly enough, he died the day before his 71st birthday, or 49 years ago yesterday.

I spent a bunch of time on the computer today and went to the store for supplies. Critter report: We've got ants in the kitchen. I chased a chipmunk out of the house twice today and fixed the loose place on the screen where it was coming in. The woodpeckers are banging on the deck posts, and I'm again fighting the bees.

See The Lake that I Love

Family Christmas 1969

I was locating and scanning slides almost all day. I am giving a program on Monday about my hike, but it's for a Girl Scout troop. When they found out I had been a Scout, and that it was still important to me, they wanted to add pictures about that part of my life. You may see some of those eventually, but I also found some family pictures.

These are Christmas 1969, at my parents' house in New York.

Mom doesn't look happy, I'm not sure why, but perhaps because what she has on her lap is fabric I bought to make her a suit. The suit was navy blue, but the lapels and cuffs were the plaid. As you can see, it was not yet a suit, and I'm sure she was pretty certain that it would never become a suit. However, I fooled her on that one. I did finish it, and she wore it quite a bit. It was double-knit fabric, revolutionary at the time. Dad just looks non-committal, a familiar look for him.

This picture is ridiculously out of focus, but it's the only one with Om and me in it. I can't imagine why I was wearing a pink bathrobe. It must have been a gift from someone, and I didn't dare get rid of it too quickly.

We went to visit Granny at the nursing home. She would have been 87, almost 88, in these pictures, and she died when she was 91. She was alert, and clearly in charge of reading her own mail.

This is the nicest picture of her. She almost looks happy here. She wasn't happy very much after age 76 when her health declined. There is one more picture of her in the link below, that was taken on her 89th birthday. I can see a lot of change in that year and a month from the pictures here.

You know, she doesn't look as old to me at 75 as she did at 21. Haha.

Back to work on the program.

See Emily M. Rowe

Dad's Graduation, 1922

  I have one other special item from Dad's high school years. This is the cover of the program for his graduation ceremony. It says "Class of 1922, Interlaken High School, Commencement Exercises, Monday evening, June 26, 1922, at eight o'clock, Reformed Church."

On the other flap is "Class Officers President: Floyd Wyckoff, Vice-President: Margaret Stearns, Secretary-Treasurer: Marian J. Marsh." and "Class Roll Mary L. Bond, Marian Cole, Julia A. Essom, Alice M. Laycock, Ray F. Leary, Marian J. Marsh, Margaret E. Stearns, Milton J. Wickham, J. Floyd Wyckoff."

The program was folded and slipped into the cover. This is the outside of the program. "Commencement Exercises of Interlaken High School held at the Reformed Church on Monday evening, June twenty-sixth 1922. 'Never Give Up' (class motto), Class Colors: Blue, Pink and Bronze."

The other face says "Principal Gordon B. Springer, Board of Education J.B. Bradley, B.R. Hewlett, T.B. Freestone; Class Officers Floyd Wyckoff, Margaret Stearns, Marian J. Marsh." (That last name is going to be familiar to some readers, and in fact, Dad went to school with her from elementary grades upwards.)

Finally, the actual order of the program.
Music.... Orchestra (one has to wonder how many pieces were in this orchestra in a school of an estimated 50 students, tops)
Invocation.... Rev. Reller D. VanWagenen
Salutatory.... Homemaking a Profession... Mary L. Bond
Vocal Solo.... Mrs. M.B. Morehouse
Physical Education.... Marian Marsh (and she did become a physical education teacher)
English as an Art.... Marian C. Cole
Choosing a Vocation... Julia A. Essom
Piano Duet "To Arms" Ortlepp Op 2.... Marjorie Slaght, Frederica Young
Athletics.... Ray F. Leary (with only 3 boys in this class, probably every boy in the high school was on every team!)
Friendship.... Margaret Stearns
Russia, A Land of Opportunity.... Alice M. Laycock (interesting topic- at the time Russia was a socialist republic, but in December of 1922 the USSR was formed)
Violin Solo "Bolero" Bohm.... Milton J. Wickham
Valedictory.... The Greatest Invention.... J. Floyd Wyckoff
Presentation of Diplomas President of the Board of Education.... Mr. Jay B. Bradley

I did find a photo of the school building at that time. It was across the street from the school I attended, and the builing had been torn down before I was born. It had a short life for a brick building. It was dedicated in 1905, and gone by 1950. The school I attended was dedicated in 1935, so perhaps it was razed not long after that.

I copied all those names because many of them will be familiar to folks local to that area.

In other news: I suddenly have four editing jobs, and I worked on them. I walked to the Post Office, did laundry, and worked on my other project.

See Dad's Football Uniform

Dad's Football Uniform

  I have one other sports set that was my dad's. This is his high school football uniform- most of it anyway. Again, like the baseball uniform from yesterday, this is 98 years old. Here are the pants. Oddly enough, I remember Dad wearing these to work in the garden because the knees were padded. But I guess he didn't wear them out- no holes. Maybe he decided that he didn't want to wear them out.

The mice did not get into this!

There are two surviving pieces of undergarments that went with it. There is a sort of jerkin-like top, and undershorts. Both lace up the front. The pants and undershorts are both made of canvas.

I do not have any kind of jersey that would have had an "I" or other logo on it. And these clothes do not have a manufacturer tag. However... how cool is this? I have the shoes.

You might be interested in seeing the thigh pads. These tie inside the pants. They are quilted cotton, like ancient Chinese armor! It seems to me they don't have enough places where they are secured. I think a player would have had trouble keeping them in place! But maybe they were to be worn inside those brown shorts.

I do not know what position he played. However, he was tall and very thin, so probably not one of the backs!

In other news: It was a beautiful day, and I should have walked. But somehow other things just filled the whole day. I did another tub of cement in the well pit and did some cleaning up. Now the cement just needs to set up for me to finish this fall's jobs down there. The temps in the 40s is not great for that, but hopefully, it will be ok in a few days. I have suddenly been hired for quite a few editing jobs, one of them a rush, so I'm spending quite a bit of time on that. And then there is my other project... having fun... may reveal it soon.

See Dad's Baseball Uniform

Dad's Baseball Uniform

  One of the things I re-homed in this great sorting project of the last few weeks was my father's high school baseball uniform. He graduated in 1922, so this is 98 years old. I was very, very unhappy to discover that the mice had been in it. I carefully washed everything, but it has holes it did not previously have. This is the warm-weather uniform- cotton pants and top. The socks are in rough shape- the mice really used them for the potty room, but I gently washed them multiple times until the water finally came clear.

There are wool pants, and a wool jersey undershirt too. I don't know if there was a wool shirt, or if the undershirt was just worn under the other one.

The uniform included underwear. They are plain cotton with a button fly. The back has a lacing to adjust the waist, taking the place of elastic. Actually, I think that would be comfortable. Elastic itches.

Everything was made by Treman, King & Co. of Ithaca, New York. Athletic Outfitters. They were still in business in the 1930s, and I found one article that said the building eventually became Montgomery Wards. The building is a big square half block in downtown Ithaca, and is now on the National Register of Historic Places.

And you can see the "I" on the front of the shirt for Interlaken, the hometown. It seems subtle, but maybe that was the style at the time. Or, there was a different piece of fabric for the "I" that has completely disappeared and the color difference is showing the original color of the uniform. We have no pictures to give us a clue.

Dad was a big baseball fan. In fact, he played in the minor leagues in the late 1920s. For a Rochester, NY team. I am not sure of the team name. He played 3rd base, and the story is that he was told he'd never make it in the majors because he was too lightweight. He was six feet tall and weighed 135 pounds.

You've seen it before, but this is a picture of Dad, Ray F. Leary, from about the time he would have been wearing the uniform, although this might be from his college years. Still- fairly close.

In other news: I did a lot, but you'd never know it. I didn't get to sleep last night till 4 am, so the morning was a waste. But I did do some editing for other people, wrote a pathetic 254 words- but at least it was progress, did the next to the last tub of cement for this year in the well pit (I was hoping to finish, but although it was above 40 degrees, the cement doesn't set up very fast), and I did a lot on the big project I've been hinting at. Not ready to 'fess up yet, though. You'll have to wait. Paid some bills, made phone calls, blah, blah...

See A Few More Family Goodies

A Few More Family Goodies

 
These pictures are connected only by virtue of being found in the same box, and they are relatives of mine. I think this one has to date from about 1947. This is my mom, Catherine Leary with Dad's son, John, my half brother. They are sitting on the steps of the house I grew up in, the house that Jack built.



And here's Jack, Dad's father. Date of the picture is unknown. Jack is the one on the left. I have no idea who the man in the suit is. Hopefully, someone savvy about old cars can help date the picture. Has to be before 1945, because that's when Jack died.



Finally, this is the oldest of the pictures. It has to be from about 1910-1914. The boy in the middle with the dog is my father, Ray Leary. I think he looks no younger than 6 and no older than 10. I have no idea who the other children are. Perhaps I should get serious with a magnifying glass and the schoolhouse picture I have of Dad. Maybe some of the faces will match. And this is, again, the house that was torn down before I was born, the house Dad grew up in.



In other news: I wrote all morning and edited all afternoon. I got a lot done, but boy is my brain tired.

See Back to Jack

More Family- Tonight the Secrets

 
Here are two more pictures from the box I discovered yesterday. Again, one is known and one is a guess, an educated guess.

Here is the known person. This is William Ford Rappleye, always known as Ford. It is from him that my father gets his middle name, Ford. This is dad's biological grandfather, or maybe great-grandfather. My recollection of the stories is grandfather, but the dates don't jive, so it must be great-grandfather, which leaves me with a question as to the missing generation. This picture was taken in 1908, eight years before he died.

The Rappleyes were important people in the history of my small town. They were founders. One of the Rappleyes helped establish the First Baptist Church that I've occasionally posted about. They did not tolerate scandal.



Unfortunately, this young lady, Ada Rappleye, or maybe Hall, ran off with a man named Dana Walker. I was always told that my dad was their illegitimate child. However, I have found a wedding certificate for them, and I have dad's adoption papers which state that his parents were Dana and Ada Walker, and his name was Ray Ford Walker. The mysteries continue.

I am guessing that this is her picture. I remember being shown it in the past, and I can see that Dad and John both look like this woman, so I think this must be the correct one.



Well, the family cut her off completely. The Walkers were destitute and gave Ray up for adoption to the Learys. The adoption papers say they were unable to provide food or clothing for him.

She is buried in an unmarked grave in the Interlaken Cemetery. Dad knew where it was, but there is no headstone. I'm quite sure I couldn't find the exact location even if I went there. If there is an official record of it, it has not been recorded in Find-a-Grave. I hope somewhere there's a record.

Meanwhile, if Ada was Ford's granddaughter rather than his daughter, was her father Ansel Jay Rappleye, or her mother Augusta Claudine Rappleye Hall? My money is on Augusta, because I've always been told that my middle name, Hall, comes from both sides of the family, and that would be the connection on dad's biological side.

I have just found that Ansel Jay never married and had no children. Augusta is shown as having one daughter, Ada. So I've established that line, but there is no further information.

I guess if you are cut off, you are cut off. Period.

All this known history led to many of dad's emotional problems. He was adopted into a family who lived in the same town where all this scandal occurred and everyone knew who he was. They never let him forget. Small towns can be wonderful. Or not.

In other news: I wrote in the morning, got more groceries, did some formatting and editing.

	See Dad's Adoptive Parents
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Happy Birthday, Dad

 
If my dad were alive he'd be 115 today. How is that even possible? I just don't feel that old.

I scanned a couple of new pictures for you. One of the things Dad liked to do was teach me about the ways of nature. This doe had been hit by a car (not ours) and he stopped to let me see and feel her while she was still warm. He was always sad when animals got killed in the road, but he was a farm boy. Death was just a part of life, and it was accepted.

He also showed me my first litter of opossums. That, too, was a road casualty, and all the little pink babies were still clinging to mom's tail. Dad's matter-of-fact attitude about it all kept me from being sad. There was always a sense of, it's a shame, but things happen. And it was fascinating to be able to examine the critters so close up.

Of course, Dad also hunted. We ate wild meat more often than meat from the store. Actually, it was this same summer (I was four) that Dad taught me how to skin a rabbit.



Dad taught me all kinds of things. There was a right way to do everything, particularly if it required the use of tools. I believe this might be the day he gave me this spot of my own to dig a hole. I'd read a Huey, Dewey, and Louie comic book where they were going to dig a hole to China and I was convinced I could do it too. This became my very own hole for the next ten or so years. I just liked to go out and dig sometimes. I grew up where the ground is hardpan gray clay. I never made it to six feet, let alone China, but I can wield a serious shovel. Still. The pickaxe too.



And I loved that jumpsuit.

In other news: I wrote in the morning, did laundry, got some things ready to mail and walked to the Post Office, and did some bookwork. It doesn't sound like all that much, but somehow it took all day. Oh yeah, and retrieved my car. That's the biggie. I have to decide if it's worth a major repair or get a different one. Stay tuned.

	See Father's Day
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Father's Day

 
I scanned a brand new picture of Dad and me for you today, so I know you haven't seen this one before. My dad died of cancer in 1976. That's a long time ago.

But here we are in 1950. Even longer ago.



Link below if you want to know more about him. I'm the one my mother called Ray, Jr.

	See Ray Ford Leary
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More Cousin Jean- 1950 Style

 
You don't want to see more snow. Me neither. So here's some ancient history. This was prompted because Cousin Jean posted a picture on Facebook of a painting of an historic house in Farmingdale, Long Island, NY. It has been recently named an historic site, with a plaque, because the woman who lived there was an early suffragette. So Jean was talking about visiting there as a child.

Whoa! Suddenly I realized what house this was. I'd been there too, and you've seen one picture from there on this blog at Cousin Helen.

So I went into a flurry of scanning pictures, because my scanner now works right (hallelujah!). I posted a bunch of those pictures on FB. But on the other side of the same scrapbook page... Jean's family visited my family maybe a month before the Long Island trip. It was also almost exactly 68 years ago. That's scary.

I was just turning two and Jean was only a few months behind. I'm on the left and Jean is on the right.



Everyone posed on the front steps of our house. I guess Mom took the picture. Left is Dad, Ray F. Leary holding me. Next is Granny- Emily M. Rowe, and beside her is Cousin Helen (sister to Jean's dad). Then we have Nan- Jean's mom, and her dad George Kilquist holding Jean. Nan is still alive.



Next we have dads and daughters. Check out the car! 1940s something. Guesses or knowledge welcome.



Girls with George. PS. I still have the wagon. I left the background intact because you can see our row of iris coming up and the dark peonies behind them leafing out. That was a nice flower garden come May. The fenceline beyond the flowers is beside the Lehigh Valley railroad tracks.



Finally, the picture with the best clarity is of Jean's family. Helen, George, Nan and Jean.



Fun times. I don't remember this day at all, but it sure looks like we were having a good time.

In other news: spent the whole day doing paperwork and bookkeeping and stuff like that.

	See Jean Hall and Joan Hall
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Dad's Elementary School

 
If Chuck were still doing his Family Friday series, this would be an entry. Actually, I should have waited till my scanner was working again to post this, because the pictures would be better. But I can replace them when that happens.

This schoolhouse was around the corner and down Powell Road about a half mile from where Dad grew up (see Back to Jack).

When I was a child, it had been converted to a house, and was lived in by "Aunt Bess." I have no idea any more what her last name was.

Anyway, Here are the schoolchildren in front of the building around 1914. My dad looks about 10, so that's how I'm guessing the date.



There is a better picture of just the kids. I can name some of them, or at least give the family name, in case some people from the old hometown stumble on this.



Far left is Marian Marsh, next to her is Helen Marsh. Boy in back of them and girl just to the right of Helen are Stouts. Boy with the long bangs in front of the teacher is a Ganoung. Teacher in far back- no part of name known. Smallest girl in front of teacher with the loose hair is identified as a "poor girl, whose brother Melvin died." Last name might be Briggs. Boy with the curly hair in front of the teacher is my dad, Ray F. Leary. Boy with dark pants in front of him is perhaps a VanDorn. Last boy on the right in back is John Marsh. Girl on the far right is also a Ganoung.

The Marsh sisters grew up to be good friends of ours, and they were wonderful to "us kids" at church. Marian was a woman ahead of her time. Loved those ladies.

I really treasure pictures of my dad as a boy because there are so few of them. These also add a layer of local history.

In other news: Worked, wrote chapter 17 in The Hitchhiker, going back to work in a couple hours.

	See Ray F. Leary
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