Kurenn (Sisler) Hisamoto: “Signs of an Earth Democracy in Lucasville Ohio”

In 2008, Kurenn (Sisler) Hisamoto, former Lucasville resident and Valley High School graduate, penned a paper for the California Institute of Integral Studies titled “Signs of an Earth Democracy in Lucasville Ohio.” Her study is a fascinating view of the land in the Scioto River Valley and how it impacted the lives and the economy of its inhabitants from the beginnings of human settlement.

In her work, Hisamoto cites the work of Indian environmental activist Vandana Shiva who suggests that many of today's religious and ethnic conflicts are rooted in the dominance of the market economy. Shiva has spent much of her life in the defense and celebration of biodiversity and indigenous knowledge.

Shiva proposes that a market economy is the natural opposite of a sustenance economy, for a sustenance economy is “rooted in its ability to sustainably produce, distribute, and consume the the resources necessary to support human life.”

While sustenance economies are usually local efforts, Shiva proposes that they are at the heart of a new type of global system that would “sustainably connect the world.” She calls this system – which (1) promotes sustainable and equitable use of the earth's resources, (2) mandates pervasive respect for all beings, and (3) pledges a united effort to ensure peace and compassion across the globe – an Earth Democracy.

The Earth Democracy of the Shawnee

In her work, Hisamoto explains how the locale of present-day Lucasville, Ohio, was once the home of the Shawnee, a group who practiced a Native American Earth Democracy in the thriving heartland of the native nation. She explains ...

“If change can occur here it could prove to be prodigiously cataclysmic, for what resides in the heart of America can influence the rest of America's body.

“The notion that the Ohio country is the heartland of the country was shared by indigenous inhabitants in the area. Prior to the time the European American settlers named the Midwest the heartland, the Shawnees of southern Ohio viewed their land as the heart of the earth.

“According to the Shawnee prophet, the Great Spirit told the Shawnee told the people that 'the earth had not yet a heart as all men and animals and that he would put them, the Shawnees, at the Shawnee River for the heart of the Earth.'

“The area of the heartland as a case for supporting an Earth Democracy's existence in America is the small Ohio town of Lucasville. The Ohio country where the Shawnee once practiced a sustenance economy is a pivotal place. Many of the dominant cultural beliefs in America today had their beginnings there, and it was there that the two very different economies – the sustenance economy and the market economy – clashed. Whoever won the heart of America here, determined the future body of America. In the short term, it was the market culture that won, and the market culture removed the Shawnee from the Ohio Valley. However, the question that remains is whether the heartland of America can ever return to pumping a culture of sustenance or if it must forever beat to the rhythms of the now-dominant market culture anthem.”

What comprised this system so reliant on natural resources to provide for basic needs through hunting, gathering, and subsistence agriculture? The word “reciprocity” – the exchange between social equals – certainly applies.

The Iroquois and the Shawnee shared many parallels including a gift economy – a reciprocal giving away of belongings that generates an egalitarian community. This is strongly evidenced by the popular trails used for trade that facilitated the gifting network. The Shawnee may have also practiced Iroquoian environmental conservation techniques such as crop rotation and forest management.

Both Iroquois and Shawnee myths speak of a female Creator who leaves the sky in order to place the earth and its land and seas on the back of a turtle. Called “Grandmother” or “Sky Mother,” the Creator brought with her the Three Sisters – corn, beans, and squash. Originating in Mexico, these three crops were carried northward, up the river valleys over generations of time, far afield to the Mandan and Iroquois who, among others, used them as trade goods.

The three crops benefit from each other: corn provides external support to beans (a climbing plant), and beans in turn are nitrogen fixing from the atmosphere into the soil, while squash, which grows by spreading on the ground, suppresses weeds by blocking them from receiving sunlight.

Both Iroquois and Shawnee cultures practiced distinct gender roles – women planted the seeds, weeded, harvested the crops, and also gathered fruits, berries, and nuts. Men cleared the forests for planting, hunted, and fished. In this manner, the females were “Keepers of the Fields” and the males were “Keepers of the Forest.”

Farm plots in both cultures were on common yet divided land. Shawnee families had rights to fields, but the fields were grouped together and planted collectively. There is also evidence of a common plot for ceremonial purposes. Many important Shawnee ceremonies were tied to the agricultural cycle: the spring bread dance at planting time; the green corn dance when crops ripened; and the autumn bread dance to celebrate the harvest.

A well-documented migration pattern supports that the natives practiced a crop rotation route. The Shawnee were a very far-ranging tribe, so they interacted with many different nations. To the north, the Shawnees were allies of the Delaware. Further to the south, the most important neighbors of the Shawnee tribe were the Cherokee, Chickasaw, and Creek people.

As Kurenn Hisamoto proposes, it is important to understand the Earth Democracy of Native American Lucasville. This early cultural history provides important lessons for modern residents. Our stewardship of the land today requires us to be environmentally conscious, communally integrated, and practical in the face of a challenging market economy. We truly have a heritage of necessary reciprocity in the face of economic challenge.

The “ghosts of a sustenance economy” linger, not to haunt but instead to provide. Kurenn reminds us that there is great potential for Lucasville, a place in the heartland where traces of both a sustenance economy and an Earth Democracy still exist. Earth democracy recognizes that we share the earth and remain its caretakers. Perhaps in doing so, we can better understand how to create and empower ever-greater networks for change.

(Kurenn Sisler. “Signs of Earth Democracy in Lucasville, Ohio: Looking at the History of a Small Midwestern Appalachian Town to Determine the Future Potential of an Earth Democracy.” California Institute of Integral Studies. 2008.)

A note from Kuenn (Sisler) Hisamoto:

“I have a B.A. in English with an emphasis in High School Education, and I have an M.A. in Women's Spirituality with an emphasis in Feminist Philosophy and Eco-feminism. I am pretty much a Jill of all trades with several interests. I am a certified Doula/Midwifery Assistant, an amateur herbalist and permaculturalist, a yoga instructor, an educator, and administrator.”

"So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

“When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home."

– Chief Tecumseh, Shawnee Nation

Mother's Day -- Let No Carnation Fade

Ann Maria Reeves Jarvis

Things My Mother Taught Me

(from Splitcoaststampers)

My Mother taught me LOGIC..."If you fall off that swing and break your neck, you can't go to the store with me."

My Mother taught me MEDICINE..."If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they're going to freeze that way."

My Mother taught me TO THINK AHEAD..."If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a good job!"

My Mother taught me ESP..."Put your sweater on; don't you think that I know when you're cold?"

My Mother taught me TO MEET A CHALLENGE..."What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you...Don't talk back to me!"

My Mother taught me HUMOR..."When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT..."If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up.

My mother taught me ABOUT SEX..."How do you think you got here?"

My mother taught me about GENETICS..."You are just like your father!"

My mother taught me about my ROOTS..."Do you think you were born in a barn?"

My mother taught me about the WISDOM of AGE..."When you get to be my age, you will understand."

My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION..."Just wait until your father gets home."

My mother taught me about RECEIVING..."You are going to get it when we get home."

And, my all-time favorite - JUSTICE..."One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like YOU -- then you'll see what it's like."

A Brief History of America's Mother's Day

Celebrations of mothers and motherhood are traced back to the ancient Greeks and Romans, but the clearest modern precedent for Mother’s Day is the early Christian festival known as “Mothering Sunday.” Once a major tradition in parts of Europe, this celebration fell on the fourth Sunday in Lent and was originally seen as a time when the faithful would return to their “mother church” – the main church in the vicinity of their home – for a special service.

Over time the Mothering Sunday tradition shifted into a more secular holiday. The American incarnation of Mother’s Day was created by Anna Marie Jarvis of West Virginia, whose mother, Ann Maria Reeves Jarvis, had started “Mothers’ Day Work Clubs” to teach local women how to properly care for their children.

In 1858, while pregnant with her sixth child, Ann Jarvis began Mothers’ Day Work Clubs in the towns of Grafton, Pruntytown, Philippi, Fetterman, and Webster to improve health and sanitary conditions. She and other area women joined a growing public health movement in the United States.

Jarvis’ clubs sought to provide assistance and education to families in order to reduce disease and infant mortality. These clubs raised money to buy medicine and to hire women to work in families where the mother suffered from tuberculosis or other health problems. They developed programs to inspect milk long before there were state requirements. Club members visited households to educate mothers and their families about improving sanitation and overall health. The clubs benefited from the advice of Jarvis’ brother, Dr. James Reeves, who was known for his work in the typhoid fever epidemics in northwestern Virginia.

(West Virginia State Archives, “Anna Maria Reeves Jarvis,” West Virginia Archives and History. And Katherine Lane Antolini, “Memorializing Motherhood: Anna Jarvis and the Struggle for Control of Mother’s Day,” PhD diss., West Virginia University, 2009)

Following her mother’s death in 1905, Anna Marie Jarvis conceived of Mother’s Day as a way of honoring the sacrifices mothers made for their children. In May 1908, she organized the first official Mother’s Day celebration at a Methodist church in Grafton, West Virginia.

Following the success of her first Mother’s Day, Jarvis – who remained unmarried and childless her whole life – resolved to see her holiday added to the national calendar. Arguing that American holidays were biased toward male achievements, she started a massive letter writing campaign to newspapers and prominent politicians urging the adoption of a special day honoring motherhood.

By 1912 many states, towns and churches had adopted Mother’s Day as an annual holiday, and Jarvis had established the Mother’s Day International Association to help promote her cause. Her persistence paid off in 1914 when President Woodrow Wilson signed a measure officially establishing the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day.

Not everyone was a fan of the holiday. Some politicians mocked the idea. Colorado Sen. Henry Moore Teller called the idea of a holiday "puerile," "absolutely absurd" and "trifling." New Hampshire Sen. Jacob Gallinger said the idea of having a holiday for mothers was an insult, as though his memory of his late mother "could only be kept green by some outward demonstration on Sunday, May 10."

Mother's Day grew in popularity as most favored the commemoration. Jarvis, herself, valued the symbolism of such tangible items as the white carnation emblem, which she described as:

“Its whiteness is to symbolize the truth, purity and broad-charity of mother love; its fragrance, her memory, and her prayers. The carnation does not drop its petals, but hugs them to its heart as it dies, and so, too, mothers hug their children to their hearts, their mother love never dying. When I selected this flower, I was remembering my mother’s bed of white pinks.”

(Katherine Lane Anatolini. “Memorializing Motherhood: Anna Jarvis and the Struggle for Control of Mother's Day” (PhD Diss). West Virginia University. 2009.)

Flowers become forever connected to the holiday. Of course, so did businesses cashing in on financial gain. Soon, Jarvis denounced the holiday’s commercialization that overwhelmed her original message, and she spent the latter part of her life trying to remove it from the calendar.

Among some of these forces were the confection, floral and greeting card industry. The symbols that she had valued for their sentimentality, such as the white carnation, easily became commodified and commercialized.

By the 1920s, as the floral industry continued increasing prices of white carnations and then introduced red carnations to meet the demand for the flower, Anna Jarvis' original symbols began to become re-appropriated, such as the red carnation representing living mothers and the white carnation honoring deceased mothers. She attempted to counter these commercial forces, creating a badge with a Mother’s Day emblem as a less ephemeral alternative to the white carnation. Her negative opinion of these commercial forces was evident in her contemporary commentary, saying:

“A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world. And candy! You take a box to Mother – and then eat most of it yourself. A pretty sentiment.”

(Malcolm S. Forbes and Jeff Bloch. Women Who Made a Difference. Simon & Schuster. 1991.)

But … Did Anna Jarvis set herself up for failure? Initially, she took money where she could to help launch and officiate her holiday. The floral industry wisely supported her Mother’s Day movement, and she didn’t think twice about accepting their donations and even spoke at their conventions.

Jarvis's efforts to hold on to the original meaning of the day led to her own economic hardship. While others profited from the day, Jarvis did not, and she spent the later years of her life with her sister Lillie. In 1943, she began organizing a petition to rescind Mother's Day. However, these efforts were halted when she was placed in the Marshall Square Sanitarium in West Chester, Pennsylvania, where she spent her last days deeply in debt.

Perhaps the biggest irony? People connected with the floral and greeting card industries paid the bills to keep her in the sanitarium. Anna Jarvis died there on November 24, 1948.

 ("Take A Second To Salute Anna Jarvis, The Mother Of Mother's Day.” NPR. May 8, 2016.)

200 Years of Lucasville -- What Does It Mean?

“The Lucasville Area Historical Society has been a critical fixture in the town of Lucasville, Ohio, serving to bridge the gap between local history and personal

and familial significance. It aims to be a central hub for historical records from

the area, and its large collections, mostly gleaned from personal donations, demonstrate the penchant for the preservation and exhibition of history

within the community.”

– Center for Folklore Studies, The Ohio State University

The Bicentennial Celebration of Lucasville, Ohio, is upon us. Without the Lucasville Area Historical Society, the small community of Lucasville may have allowed this commemoration to slip by with scant observance. A modest number of people in this service organization rose to the occasion to insure that the birthday of the village received its due regard. That commission was not taken lightly, especially reviewing the outstanding sesquicentennial collaboration of fifty years before.

The work being done by club members is monumental to say the least. Early on, the historical society assumed the challenging assignment of planning the 2019 celebration and organizing multiple events during the year. Although the task often seemed overwhelming, caring people volunteered to create an astonishing schedule of meaningful bicentennial engagements – all of which pay homage to an exceptional small town.

This labor of love serves to build community and preserve the heritage of a most significant Southern Ohio hamlet. As people, young and old, add their ideas and energies to the bicentennial celebration, the diverse threads weave a stronger fabric of commonality. The old adage of “It takes a village” transcends its banality when people experience the real dependency of community. This reliance surely mirrors that of the Founding Families of 1819.

It is hoped that many will observe the Lucasville Bicentennial. So much thought and work have gone into making the birthday a memorable time. And, it is surely presumptuous of the historical society to expect throngs to attend all the events. But, I understand that multitudes matter less than enthusiasm, and I am convinced that the Lucasville Historical Society has grown immeasurably due to meeting the pressures, expectations, and deadlines of commemorating 200 years of Lucasville existence.

Therein is great progress. Without a doubt, the Lucasville area is being revitalized by the celebration. Turning this page of history, people are both honoring tradition and revealing new, exciting developments that serve as the lifeblood of the community. We continue to discover ourselves in the process.

"There is no power for change greater than a community

discovering what it cares about."

– Margaret J. Wheatley

The relatively small group of people who dedicated themselves to this mission have grown together mightily as an organization because each individual continues to flex considerable muscle through his or her strong talents and timely industry. Through pushing the limits of their engagement, the club has met the challenge and continues to grow.

“Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress;

working together is success.”

– Edward Everett Hale, American author and historian

Work -- Young and Old Together Build Lasting Communities

“I know of no single formula for success. But over the years I have observed that some attributes of leadership are universal and are often about finding ways of encouraging people to combine their efforts, their talents, their insights, their enthusiasm and their inspiration to work together.”

– Queen Elizabeth II

Nothing … NOTHING brings hearts and souls in unison like working together. Working together builds trust, teaches conflict resolution, promotes risk-taking, and creates a wider sense of ownership. From my years of teaching and working with other groups like the Youth Conservation Corp, I have witnessed unbelievable achievements as all ages plan and execute work projects. As individuals with complimentary strengths find common ground in labor, the results are often miraculous.

No one has to remind older folks of the tremendous vitality and creativity of youth. We of not-so-tender-years reminisce of our own past when energy and muscle reliably fueled our endeavors. Most projects require both mature understanding and youthful enthusiasm. When adults and young people combine their resources, team spirit grows, and all involved gain valuable new perspectives. The strong interaction, built on community spirit, acknowledges this reciprocal advantage.

Quite simply, work becomes more enjoyable as an honest, shared work ethic forms. It becomes a living, breathing sense of integrity in a vibrant community. The inevitable result is a reliance on a dependable, fair division of labor. Project sharing across age groups bridges generation gaps and encourages initiative. It emphasizes the strength in diversity as different personality types find common ground in their industry.

I would like to express a notion we hear frequently that I am sure has been alleged, in some fashionable form or other, by every generation of adults since the first apple grew in the Garden. It goes like this …

“These damned teenagers are so lazy these days. The know-it-alls are just a bunch of phone-addicted, selfie-obsessed, hashtagging, snapchatting, kale-munching, whining babies.”

Talk about a stereotype that would lower the self esteem of Horatio Alger. No self-respecting adolescent wants to bear the weight of being a spoiled sluggard who expects something for nothing and who lives off the labors of others. These youth, more than likely, are in the process of becoming more educated than their parents, and they just don't want to screw up. We encourage to engage with caution in nearly every endeavor. We warn them that no one owes them a living or a happy life. Is it any wonder they take their time and question a society in which they must dodge pitfalls at every step?

In truth, most young people commonly considered “slackers” are hard workers looking for more efficient ways of doing things. They crave respect, and many of them have taken over the responsibility of caring for younger siblings. Growing up in a either a single-parent or both-parents-working environment. These adolescents were raised as mini adults. It’s no longer Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood. In fact, it's pretty scary out there now.

Older people claim youth have very poor social skills, and perhaps they do if old standards apply. But, communication and teamwork to young people now involve learning from the collaborative nature of their unique childhood activities, which include social networks, crowd-sourcing, and even video gaming. To youth, so much social communication involves technology and speed of connection.

Technology speeds up the communication between people, and it provides convenience to use more than one method of communication. Now, a conversationist can use email, social media, chat messengers, video conferencing, video calls, images, videos, symbols, diagrams, charts and emoticons etc. for the communication – all technology available to busy fingertips 24/7.

Is it any wonder speaking skills falter when face-to-face communication is now so outdated? One can understand how a reliance on digital devices makes things such as reading non-verbal clues obsolete in a filtered, device-driven environment. Technological advances have made verbal communication redundant in many parts of life – now you can take a college class, shop for groceries, or interact with a personal trainer online. One must really question how face-to-face communication will weather the changes afforded by technology.

Are young people really less social than their parents and grandparents? Or, are they practicing a new manner of social contact more suited to the world in which they live? A Common Sense Media census report released in 2016 found half of kids in the U.S. have some form of social media by age 12. Trends are so important to children who face so much pressure to be popular and readily accepted.

Although many parents worry about their children's abilities to analyze the truth and maintain privacy at that age, many are now setting strict boundaries and monitoring activities as their kids use these sites. After all, no guardian wants to impose isolation at any age.

MIT Technology Review recently hosted a review by Manuel Castells, Chair Professor of Communication Technology and Society at the University of Southern California, who offered his

in-depth analysis titled “The Impact of the Internet on Society: A Global Perspective.” In this presentation, Castells said ...

“The media often reports that intense use of the Internet increases the risk of isolation, alienation, and withdrawal from society, but available evidence shows that the Internet neither isolates people nor reduces their sociability; it actually increases sociability, civic engagement, and the intensity of family and friendship relationships, in all cultures.”

I certainly know one thing about modern communication. When an old codger like me seeks help and understanding about computers, cell phones, and other electronic devices, we run to the younger generation for their technological expertise. We – the young and old – need each other. And, we must construct better avenues of working together to achieve the results we desire.

Without a doubt, the need to work together exists. Sharing labor offers great benefits to all ages, cultures, and personality types. Such engagement strengthens group and personal skills. It is vital for community growth and inclusion. The lifeblood of any group depends on the service of its members. I believe the failure to encourage employment of all ages stifles growth and threatens important objectives.

According to a study done by Search Institute (2014), 25 percent of youth feel that their community's adults value them, and 28 percent of youth feel that they have useful roles in their community. This is alarmingly low. Youth-adult partnerships can foster success by allowing young people to share in the decision-making power in communities; these partnerships allow youth to assume important roles as active citizens.

In addition, youth-adult partnerships dispel negative stereotypes about the perceptions and capabilities of teenagers. Working together to accomplish meaningful tasks, teenagers and adults become aware of each others acute perception and immense capabilities. This reliance builds mutual trust.

How, then, can adults and youth best employ their common energy, passion, and commitment? Adults must readily partner with youth and work together with these young people in projects that build community. The labor can be initiated with activities as basic as voicing opinions or sharing simple physical tasks. It strengthens as common they identify needs and explore basic ideas to achieve goals.

I strongly believe young people should be personally invited to become members of community organizations. Few will join without encouragement because many feel they have nothing to offer, they won't know anybody, or they think it will not be much fun. And, here is the focus of my essay – working together generates happiness and approval. Yes, working in a group is rewarding and enjoyable.

Work in community organizations may seem like obligation and service to adults, but most young people are standing at the beginning of a long, difficult journey without the experience to understand the value of giving back to their community. Likely school and church comprise their frame of reference for such interaction at this tender age. Youth need to join broader efforts to further effect their own environment.

The work young people do for their community teaches them that helping others makes them feel good about themselves … and more … it simply teaches them to trust the power of hard work. That's a lesson we know sets a person on the road to success.

I believe young people want to be fully engaged. They want to learn. Good learning involves direct experience. And, it follows that work is the foundation of practical involvement. Learning is often most effective when it is social; when it occurs as a shared activity within meaningful relationships; and when it allows for increasingly responsible participation—within a tradition, or a community of fellow learners, or one’s culture at large.

Therefore, I encourage the Lucasville Area Historical Society to invite young people to join the club in its meaningful endeavors. The talented youth in the area represent a great resource, one that is largely untapped. I believe people must be taught to “see themselves” in roles of leadership and service in the group. But, beyond that, they must also be shown that “seeing themselves outside of themselves” leads to true fulfillment.

As young and old work together, the service truly becomes communal. I hope many youth consider joining the organization. I think the Historical Society should formally invite these children to participate in all activities. I know such participation would benefit all involved.

Footnote: A Lesson About Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs 

When you just take from the world you live in and choose not to contribute to it, it keeps you in a state of surviving no matter how much you have or how much money you make. Jumping from survival to success is a mistake and will land you back in survival. However, when you contribute beyond yourself at each stage of progression, you are consuming and contributing which creates balance.

Contribution doesn’t happen at the top of the pyramid, it occurs throughout every stage. If you make it only about yourself, you won’t stay in success or significance and feel fulfilled. Success does not always mean making lots of money alone so keep that in mind. Success includes having all aspects of your life working together. Job, family, faith, and your place in your community.

Lucasville Community Institute -- No, Not the Prison

Do you remember the days when people congregated to talk, laugh, and learn together? If you are an old codger like me, you must be missing such opportunities more and more in this fast-paced, digital society. I'm not talking about conversations and memes on Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of distant social media. I'm reminiscing about getting together face-to-face with other community members and sharing all sorts of information … I'm speaking about actually participating in meaningful learning activities.

Long-time Lucasville resident Hilda Pfleger Miller has completed research on a group from Lucasville that played an important role in the community of the 1940s and 1950s. Thanks to her diligent investigation of a group of which she was once a member, I can write with insight about an organization that successfully drew together many elements of Lucasville community.

In Lucasville that organization was known by most as “The Institute.” There were several official names for the group – Lucasville Community Institute, Lucasville Farmers Community Institute, and the Farmers Institute. The annual institutes were an outreach of the Scioto County Agricultural Extension Office in connection with other local civic groups throughout the county.

Among the organizations that sponsored the Institute included the Garden Club, the Farm Bureau, councils, the Civic Service Club, Grange, the Valley Local Schools, and the Scioto County Agricultural Extension Office.

Hilda found many newspaper articles about the Institute and its activities from 1946 to 1953 in the Portsmouth Times archives. She laments that the coming of the A-Plant was announced in August 1952 and Lucasville seemingly “went in a new direction.”

The Lucasville Institute evolved into a two-day session. The first evening included speakers on topics such as agriculture and soil conservation. For example, these programs were presented to the community by the Institute during its heyday ...

* Dr. M. T. Meyers of Hillsboro spoke about the development of hybrid seed corn.

* Mrs. J. H. Frowine addressed the group on the topic of 4-H Club activities.

* Boss Johnston, featured speaker on WLW radio's “Everybody's Farm Hour,” offered agricultural advice.

* Judge Dermison of London, Ohio, even presented a “Corn Show.”

* Demonstrations of rug making and other crafts.

There was also group singing and music by the Valley Band and Glee Club at the gatherings. “The 50-piece Valley High School Band” under the direction of Ralph French presented concerts. And other groups entertained such as the Senior Girls' Sextet that sang popular songs such as “Shine on Harvest Moon” under the direction of Miss Betty Pollock.

The Institute also highlighted student academic talent such as an oration from Peggy Adams, Prince of Peace declamation winner.

The second night featured a talent program – Hilda says “not a talent contest, but a program open to anyone who wanted to take part.”

And, Hilda Pfleger Miller remembers participating in one of the talent shows. Corine Blankenship and Hilda sang verses from the “Ballad of the Boll Weevil” they had sung in their music classes at school. She recalls: “Obviously it was an early institute; we would never have done this as teenagers!”

“The first time I seen a boll weevil

He was sitting on the square

The next time I seen a boll weevil

He had his whole family there

They are looking for a home

They were looking for a home”

Another talent show act was presented by Hilda's mother, Glady Pfleger, who gave a very long recitation featuring many hats as props. The skit was about a lady trying on hats in a shop and finally walking out without making a purchase. Hilda says she still has a copy of her mother's recitation.

The Institute was a very popular foundation. A Lucasville Community Institute in 1953 in the Valley High Auditorium with Charles Bradshaw, president (succeeding Grant Malone); Elza Stambaugh, vice-president and hostess; and Raymond Zaler, secretary-treasurer boosted an attendance of 450 people.

Other presidents during the time of the Institute included locals Mont Preston, Charles Zaler, Lee Butler, and Edward L. Miller.

Reports and presentations by Lucasville organizations added further community cohesion during the institute sessions. For example, in 1952, these people addressed the assembly about a variety of community affairs …

* Miss Enid C. Swerner, home demonstration agent;

* J. W. McKinley, Lucasville Civic Club representative;

* Dr. A. A. Melior, “new” physician;

* P. L. Bogan, Valley Township Fire Chief;

* Mrs. T. J. Cyrus, Lucasville PTA representative;

* Mrs. Dorother VanHoose, Lucasville Garden Club representative; and o

* Other people from the Scioto Valley Grange and Farm Bureau Council were on the program.

The Institute was further bolstered by adult Executive Committee members such as Lawrence Comer and Ralph French, Valley High; Mrs. Earl C. Moulton, home council; Mrs. Harry Wagner, youth and 4-H Clubs; Mrs. Charles Zaler, Mrs. James Peebles, and Lynn Sloan, farm organizations; and John Collis, Guy Bumgarner, and Mrs. Gaylord Preston, other businesses.

Of course, it is impossible to name all the contributors to the Institute some 60-70 years later. Newspaper accounts of the time give sparse detail. Perhaps readers can add to this initial investigation into the group. If you have further information, please submit it to the Lucasville Area Historical Society for safe keeping and public consumption.

Now, it seems to me such an effort to coordinate, centralize, and develop the Lucasville community is sorely lacking now. Oh, I know people are so busy these days, and everybody lacks time for such commitment. However, what a loss when the Lucasville Community Institute faded into the proverbial “sunset” and went “over the rainbow” in the mid-50s. Reading about the efforts of the members of this group makes me feel a void – the diversity of the Institute and its broad inclusion of interests formed lasting fellowship.

I want to thank Hilda Pfleger Miller for caring about her old community. She now lives in Dayton, Ohio. I find her concern about the Lucasville area of today stimulating. She benefited so much from her association with the people and organizations of the past that she longs to see continued efforts to fortify that strong social structure. To her, it matters greatly. And, I, for one, agree.

Ohio and Erie Canal -- A Living Monument

“But what of the future upon our canals?
How can we expect them to be?
Pollution and traffic upon all our roads
May yet be the obvious key
To launch a renaissance of waterways, old,
And those that are still to be made.
With bold inspiration and vision that’s sound
We soon could return them to trade.”

– From “Where the Working Boats Went” by Tony Haynes

What do you know about the Ohio and Erie Canal on the Westside of the Scioto River. Its just a stinky old, stagnant ruin of the past, right? It represents a lost dream of bygone days, doesn't it? But, wait just a minute. Researching this local waterway reveals another perspective … one of great industry and commercial growth. In truth, this channel was an Ohio conduit of imagination and opportunity. 

By 1820, 580,000 residents were estimated to be living in Ohio, and most of them were involved in agriculture. Despirt the growth in this early American frontier, Ohio was one of the poorest states in the Union. The problem with modern agriculture of the day was that farmers had more produce than they could use and no way to move it beyond their local communities. Moving the excess produce beyond the local markets, and into the cities required some means of transport that was at least a little bit more reliable and that wouldn't eat up all the profits.

Before the arrival of the first canal, the only way farmers, manufacturers, and everyday travelers had for getting anywhere distant were poorly constructed roads that were often impassible during the winter and wet spring months. The much anticipated National Road had only reached Wheeling, West Virginia by 1817 and it would be another 16 years before it reached Columbus, Ohio.

For Ohioans in the early 1800s the logical solution seemed to be a canal system that would connect the two major bodies of water in Ohio: Lake Erie, that connected farmers with the east coast, with the Ohio River, that connected them with points South all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. Canal construction would be very expensive and somewhat slow moving; however, the dream of growth would spur the construction of a modern marvel.

When Ohio was a mere 21 years old, the legislature authorized funding for the Ohio and Erie Canal. The principal goals of the canal for the State of Ohio were to serve as many voters as possible and connect the Ohio River with Lake Erie as quickly and cheaply as possible without throwing the state into bankruptcy.

On February 4, 1825, the Ohio Legislature passed "An Act to provide for the Internal Improvement of the State of Ohio by Navigable Canals.” Construction of the Ohio and Erie Canal began in 1825. It would be a course that would stretch 308 miles between Cleveland and Portsmouth.

“For every mile of the canal, an Irishman is buried.”

– A popular expression associated with the Ohio and Erie Canal

Work on the canal was grueling and dangerous. Laborers used picks, shovels, and wheelbarrows to dig the watercourse. And, after the canal was dug, it also needed to be lined with clay to make it waterproof.

Laborers – mostly German and Irish immigrants – worked 12 hour days in return for thirty cents and a ration of whiskey. Malaria. dubbed “Canal Fever.” claimed the lives of hundreds of young men as they died from various microbes festering in the mud and stagnant water. There was a time when as many as six deaths were recorded on average for every mile dug. Many unfortunate souls were buried in shallow, unmarked graves along the canal, or in mass paupers graves at nearby cemeteries.

Construction of the hundreds of sandstone locks in the canal was tremendously difficult. The locks were constructed to bridge the 1,200-foot elevation difference between the lake and river. Each stone in a lock weighed between two and four tons and had to be set in place using a system of ropes and pulleys. Lock walls were five feet thick at the base and tapered to four feet at the top.

In many spots along its route, the canal had to cross other rivers and streams. At these locations, aqueducts carried the canal over the stream. Culverts, barrel-shaped channels, carried small streams under the canal. Turn-around and pull-off basins allowed boats to unload cargo, make repairs, stay the night, or simply turn around.

When completed in 1832, the Ohio and Erie Canal had cost $4,244,540. This averaged just less than $15,000 per mile. The finished canal consisted of 146 lift locks, 7 guard locks, 14 aqueducts, 203 culverts, and 14 dams. The waterway soon became a major catalyst for the state's economic growth.

Commerce on the canal soon flourished. Although the size of the locks – 90' long in the chamber and 15' wide, with a pair of wooden gates at either end – limited the size of wooden canal boats, business boomed.

The canal held four feet of water to support canal boats carrying many tons of cargo traveling at about three miles per hour. (A speed limit of 4 mph was enacted by the State of Ohio to protect the canal banks from erosion.) Everything from agricultural products to stone and lumber floated on the canal.

A canal boat crew was a colorful sight. The boats were usually manned by a team of three people: the captain, the bowsman or helmsmen (Who steered the boat from the bow using a very long wooden stick connected to the rudder called the tiller.), and the teamster or “hoggee” who walked behind the horses to keep them moving. Horses and mules walking along the towpath pulled the boats up and down the canal. By the way, President James A. Garfield was an Ohio hoggee when he was just 16 years old.

The boat captain – sometimes in a military-style jacket and stovepipe hat – usually owned the vessel and often lived aboard with his family. A 9x12-ft. cabin, located near the stern of the boat, served as the family’s home. Mothers and daughters often performed the domestic activities of the boat such as preparing meals or washing clothes in the canal, and young males often served as mule skinners. Parents often tied the youngest children to a post located in the center of the boat to prevent them from falling into the canal.

Canal passenger boats, also called “packet boats,” transported 40 to 60 passengers. In November 1834, President John Q. Adams wrote of the experience of “locking through” on the Ohio and Erie Canal:

“The most uncomfortable part of our navigation is caused by the careless and unskillful steering of the boat in and through the locks, which seemed to be numberless, upwards of 200 of them on the canal. The boat scarcely escapes a heavy thump on entering every one of them. She strikes and grazes against their sides, and staggers along like a stumbling nag.”

Here is another passenger’s objectionable description of a trip aboard a canal boat, which had a gentlemen’s cabin, a ladies’ cabin and dressing room, a barroom, and a kitchen:

“Into this space were stowed 35 men, 19 women and 10 children … During the day, the beds, consisting of mattresses, sheets, pillows and cotton quilts, were piled one above another … The smell of animal effluvia, when they were unpacked, was truly horrid ... they were saturated with the perspiration of every individual who had used them since the commencement of the season.”

(Excerpted from Ohio and Its People, George W. Knepper, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 1989, pg. 155. 2.)

Still, the difficulties Ohioans faced with the canals paled in comparison to the advantages that they garnered. Most importantly, the cost to ship goods from the East Coast to Ohio and vice versa declined tremendously from 125 dollars per ton of goods to twenty-five dollars per ton of goods. It took eighty hours to travel from Cleveland to Portsmouth along the Ohio and Erie Canal. While horseback was much quicker, it also cost a great deal more. The cost on the canal boat was $1.70 per person.

The canals enjoyed a period of grand prosperity from the 1830s to the early 1860s, with maximum revenue between 1852 and 1855. During the 1840s, Ohio was the third most prosperous state, owing much of that growth to the canal.

In the canal heyday, boat companies operated fleets of vessels, hiring captains and crew. Captains could have a high professional standing in the community. Solo owner-operators became the norm, and their social status slipped. Entire families began to live and work on boats.

Early boats had enclosed cabins and carried cargo packed in barrels and crates. Later, boats had open decks to carry more bulk goods. They also increased in tonnage, responding to their ability to compete with railroads to haul the bulkiest goods like lumber and coal.

Gov. William Seward of New York proclaimed “the highest attainable equality” would come with canals. Ohio canal commissioners believed “the moral and intellectual condition of a people” would improve. And, the canals surely did deliver ... at least for a time.

(Jennie Vasarhelyi. “Illustrating stories of Ohio & Erie Canal.” West Side Leader. May 15, 2014)

In addition to upgrading the equality of rural Ohio citizens, the Ohio and Erie Canal greatly changed the lives of those who were interacting through trade. People now had increased access to consumer goods, so they could buy rather than make many of the things they used. Manufactured goods had been pretty much unknown on the frontier until transportation costs became cheaper. These were the first inklings of emergence of the consumer economy.

The canal also stimulated local business growth along its route. It was wide enough for two-way traffic, but since locks could only handle one boat at a time, traffic was bound to back up, just as it does on modern freeways. People did not like having to sit around and wait to "lock through," so many stores and taverns began to develop near the canal.

Cities grew and even sprang up along the Ohio and Erie Canal. The canal almost instantly turned Cleveland into a major commercial center. The city became the hub of a continental transportation network that connected with New York City via Lake Erie and New York’s Erie Canal as well as with the nation’s developing frontier areas and New Orleans via the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers.

Simon Perkins realized the potential for business near the canal. So, in 1825, as construction of the canal was beginning, he founded the city of Akron. He knew that with 16 locks placed in close proximity there would be plenty of opportunity for development. Akron would evolve into one of the major cities in northeast Ohio.

The locks on the canal even spurred industrial development in the state. Each lock served as a water elevator, capable of raising and lowering boats heavily laden with cargo. Because of the elevation change, usually eight feet, areas near locks became a great source of waterpower for industry. Saw mills, grist mills, and woolen mills sprang up at locks and other areas of the canal where the water could power their machinery.

For decades, the Ohio & Erie Canal was the state’s principal mode of transportation not only for goods but also for people. By 1840 Ohio had grown from one of the poorest states in the Union to the third most prosperous. The growth and development spurred by the construction of the canal system is the foundation of Ohio's economy today.

It wasn’t until the 1870s, when railroads became the faster, cheaper way to move folks and freight, that the canal ultimately began its decline. By the early 20th century, much of it was abandoned altogether.

Ohio’s canals came to an abrupt halt in March of 1913. That spring had a severe snowmelt, flooding and destroying towpaths, locks, aqueducts, you-name-it. Since canal expenditures were already outpacing revenue, it was clear it was time to throw in the towel.

The Ohio and Erie Canal was then used as a water supply for local industries, some to this day. Many of the old locks and sections of the canal have been preserved as National Historic Landmarks. Other parts of the waterways are now tourist attractions or reserved for parks and recreational uses. In Ohio, they are usually run by the National Park Service or Ohio Department of Natural Resources.

Lucasville Canal History

The subject of canals had, for State Senator Robert Lucas, a local as well as a general interest. Considering the fact that the projected Ohio Canal was to run along the Scioto River through Pike County (his home) and connect the town of Portsmouth with Lake Erie, he was more than enthusiastic in its support.

Lucas thus became one of the most prominent advocates of general canal legislation and other policies of internal improvement in the State. He was Chairman of the Joint Canal Committee that prepared and drafted the bill authorizing the construction of the Ohio Canal, and for years he continued to hold this position on the committee.

It should be established that during that time the matter of canals and schools were positively and politically linked together. The passage of this law was due to the tactful and political management of the friends of eduction in the legislature, who united their forces with the friends of internal improvement. As a result, canals and public schools were provided for in Ohio by the same legislature. Robert Lucas surely understood how “scratching the opposition's back” could lead to compromise.

As published in the Ohio Educational Monthly, Volume 71 (circa 1923) ...

“The sight of an Ohio canal, even though abandoned because its days of usefulness are gone, should still arouse in the minds of all who love the public schools grateful memories of that day nearly one hundred years ago when the support of the friends of canals made possible the beginning of the public school system of Ohio.”

The monumental Ohio Education Bill of 1825 required that Townships be laid off into school districts; school officers be elected to manage the schools; teachers be certificated to teach by a county board of examiners; and most important and significant of all, a tax of one-half mill upon the property of the several counties of the State be levied to produce an annual fund for the instruction of youth.

The Ohio and Erie Canal may have led to a relatively short-lived era of physical conveyance; however, it helped establish fundamental opportunities that blossomed into vital realities. This vision and challenge of a watery link – a passage that spurred trade, transportation, and population – opened the hearts and minds of Buckeyes to realizing achievements that rest at the base of Ohio, Scioto County, and Lucasville. Indeed, education remains the greatest asset of the people.

Jackie and Branch -- Warriors United

“Wesley Branch Rickey was a moral man. He would have made an impressive fire-and-brimstone preacher, an effective politician, or a tough-to-beat lawyer, whether prosecuting or defending. But this man, like many of us, was fascinated by a boy's game – baseball.”

– Stan Musial

Today, April 15, 2019, Major League Baseball honors Jackie Robinson. It is the 72nd anniversary of his first game with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. That day, Robinson changed the sport forever when he became the first African American to play Major League Baseball. And, that day in history represented much more – many believe it was the real beginning of the American Civil Rights movement.

The debut of Jackie Robinson was long before other events in the movement that occurred in Little Rock, Birmingham, Selma, and the Lincoln Memorial. Because of Jackie Robinson, Americans were forced to confront a world in which black and white men could work side by side for a common goal. The struggle had deep origins in American sports.

It must never be forgotten that Jackie Robinson was afforded this early opportunity by a fearless visionary named Wesley Branch Rickey. In his efforts to break the color barrier, Rickey was honoring two of the principles that guided his life: to provide equality for all and to speak out for what is right. Though his signing of Robinson was a business decision, its roots sprung from the need to right a wrong. The character of Branch Rickey was unquestioned.

Since the late 1880s, the owners of Major League baseball teams had operated under a deplorable “gentleman's agreement,” whereby they would not employ African American players. Rickey was determined to put an end to this policy. He explained …

“The very first thing I did when I came to Brooklyn in late 1942 was to investigate the approval of ownership for a Negro player. There was timeliness about the notion. The Negro in Americas was legally but never morally free. I thought: If the right man with control of himself could be found ...”

Jackie Robinson was that “right man.” He was not only a great player but also a model citizen. During his career, he endured harsh criticism from fans, other players, and even his own teammates. He was the target of bigoted insults, bean balls, and even death threats. Knowing that he carried the prospects of an entire race, though, Robinson endured it all without retaliating, and it literally “ate him alive.” He suffered from stomach pains. His hair turned gray prematurely. As the first season waned, however, the criticism diminished, and the praise grew.

You see, Branch Rickey believed that God had chosen Jackie Robinson for this noble purpose. He knew that if Jackie committed himself to doing this great thing, God would give him the strength he needed to see it through.

“Mr. Rickey, do you want a ballplayer who is afraid to fight back?” Robinson asked. “No,” came the reply. “I want a ballplayer with guts enough not to fight back.” Robinson relented; Rickey found his pioneer. The rest of the story reveals the amazing friendship and determination of the pair.

The Lucasville Roots of Rickey

The Rickeys were devoutly religious Methodists who adhered to the pious Wesleyan tradition of social liberalism. Self-discipline, education, and hard work were the predominant values in the rural Rickey home. It is very apparent that young Branch grew up in a family that believed in the principles of liberty and justice – ideals that that served him well when he boldly went against so many white, prejudiced colleagues in baseball. I wonder how many today in Lucasville even know the story. Its local roots deserve the honest declaration.

In 1892, the Rickey family moved to Lucasville,Ohio. The Rickeys moved into Squire Crain's house on Valley Pike across from Chandler Moulton's store. Here, they rented three rooms on each of two floors with separate entries on the front and rear.

Part of the reason for the move was that the family believed 11-year-old Branch Rickey was especially bright, and the one-room schoolhouse near Duck Run had given him all it could. At that time, the small village of Lucasville had a better school (two stories) with more than one overworked teacher and with a more complex curriculum. In addition, the school had a very resourceful superintendent, James H. Finney, a man who became one of Rickey's strongest influences and supporters.

Lucasville – with its school, its people, and its offer of broader opportunity – helped shape the foundation of Branch Rickey. The immeasurable positive effect of the local school system was paramount to his early development. In Lucasville, Branch overcame any reservations and blossomed as a scholar. This was also the place where he formed his enduring love for baseball while honing his athletic skills playing on local teams.

And speaking of affection? In addition, Branch met and married the love of his life, Jane Moulton Rickey, here in Lucasville. One biographer recalls the courtship and Branch saying: “I confessed my love for Jane and when she told me she loved me, I left the Moulton porch with eyes full of tears of joy.” Jane's steadfast love and positive influence were monumental in his life and career.

And, here in Lucasville, he formed many life-long friendships … so many that he knew Valley High as his “alma mater” and Lucasville as his “home town.” Many times he returned to the village to renew old ties and to relax with friends. Many relatives remain in the area to this day.

It is very important to understand that Branch Rickey, from the beginning, had a wide range of interests. As a young man, he became a rural school teacher, a lay preacher, and was once considered as a nominee for governor of Missouri. Of course, Rickey was also a tremendous athlete who played both baseball and football in college. Moreover, he was a man of tremendous intellect and immeasurable drive. He was fearsomely intelligent, well read, and thoughtful. He graduated law school at the University of Michigan and became head baseball coach while studying there.

“He talks with such pontifical oratory that he could and would make a reading of batting averages sound as impressive and as stirring as Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address,” said the New York Times’ Arthur Daley.

What about fate? The course of Branch Rickey's young life is indelibly etched in Lucasville history. In 1901, local school superintendents James Finney and Frank Appel, graduates of Ohio Wesleyan University, urged Branch to leave home and enter college in Delaware as a probationary student.

Thus, it was here in Lucasville that Branch Rickey committed his first exceedingly bold and rebellious act. His father told him, “I think you ought not go to college at this time.” But, Branch, with $62 in his pocket and the consent of his mother, flagged down the train at the Lucasville depot and chased his dream. “I wanted to go to college more than anything else in the world, and I didn't care how I got there,” he later said. What a payoff would follow … and soon … Rickey played on the OWU football and baseball teams in his freshman year.

“Lucasville Rick,” as Branch was affectionately known, went on to become an icon of baseball and a champion of civil rights, the man who rubbed out the deplorable color line in professional sports. He remains one of the most influential men in American history.

Red Smith, Pulitzer Prize winning sportswriter, once said “If his goal had been the United States Supreme Court instead of the Cincinnati Reds, he would have been a giant on the bench.”

Branch Rickey's contributions went far beyond the game. He was as much about the betterment of people and society as he was baseball. He changed everything from the way players were evaluated to the way individuals were: by the content of their character.

Jackie Robinson, at the time of Rickey's death in 1965, said, "The passing of Mr. Rickey is like losing a father."

Note: I hope you join me in influencing Valley Schools to commemorate the tremendous life of Branch Rickey. I would love to see a permanent display at the high school with appropriate information about this baseball and civil rights pioneer. He is a positive role model whose life surely inspires the hopes and dreams of young Americans today. I believe in honoring Rickey we would also inspire scores of young scholars and athletes to uphold the best principles of our schools and of our community. Would you join me in making this history part of our heritage? Let me know if you would support this effort.