Re-inventing Small Towns for the 21st Century

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Wednesday, June 14, 1911: There is nothing to write about for today.

McEwensville

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Since Grandma had “nothing to write about” a hundred years ago today, I’m going to get on my soapbox.

A hundred years ago this building was the Reader Hotel.
The building with the porch once housed a restaurant. When Grandma was writing these diary entries the other building was  Armstrong’s General Store. 

Sometimes I read other genealogy blogs. Jennifer in Climbing My Family Tree visited some small towns in Iowa where her ancestors had lived. She wrote about towns “that reached their peak a hundred years ago,” and then wondered what caused some towns to struggle or disappear while others thrived. I’ve often pondered similar issues regarding the towns in central Pennsylvania–

McEwensville Community Hall is the white building in the center of the photo. It would have been the center of community activities a hundred years ago.

I find the world within a 10 mile radius of the farm where Grandma grew up to be fascinating.

One hundred years ago the nearby towns were filled with shops and restaurants. Neighbors helped each other. A good Saturday night would involve doing things with friends and family—visiting the neighbors for ice cream, maybe playing a few cards—or on a big week-end there might be a box social or the high school students might put on a play that the entire community would attend. The local newspaper would report whose grandmother had come to visit-and who’d attended a picnic.

One hundred years ago the villages, towns, and small cities were thriving. Some regional economists today assert that many small towns no longer serve a purpose. When transportation and communication are poor that there is a need for more local and regional centers. But according to these economists when people can easily travel further to work and shop the need for many small communities begins to vanish.

Fred’s–the one  and only restaurant in McEwensville today.

Yet I somehow don’t want to give up on the small towns—and want to believe that they still have an important role in the 21st century. Personally I find the small towns in central Pennsylvania to be wonderful, friendly, relaxing places and believe that they are in the process of re-inventing themselves for the 21st century.

Many of our youth today participate in study abroad programs and know all about remote villages half way around the world. Our kids can tell us about the foods, agricultural practices, and cultural norms of tiny villages in Asia, Latin American and Africa (which I totally support and think is incredibly cool)—yet they are clueless about the awesome history and culture of the small towns outside their backdoor.

One young man I know recently told me that when he was growing up his parents regularly took him on trips to Europe—but they never bothered to show him America.

Last year he and some of his friends went on what they called a Rust Belt Tour—and explored and photographed towns in Michigan, Ohio, and Pennsylvania that once had been thriving but now are really struggling. He talked with the people—and learned about the unique history, culture, and foods of each locale. And he discovered some wonderful places and people.

His perspectives and interests are unique in many ways, yet I’m thrilled that there might be a resurging interest (however small) in rediscovering some really cool places.

“Wonder When I Will See Him Again . . .”

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:

Tuesday, June 13, 1911: I have a sore neck, and I’m not trying to write anything very pleasant, so there. Said good-bye to H.W. Wonder when I will see him again. He came over for some tools this morning.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Grandma probably has a sore neck from stooping to pick strawberries (see yesterday’s entry).

I assume that H.W. refers to one of the carpenters who had been building the barn addition. On June 2 she’d indicated that she thought two of them were cute. And, on June 6 there’d been the barn raising—so the carpentry work is probably finished. It’s hard to be a teen sometimes . . .

Sunday School Times–Morning/Afternoon

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Sunday, June 11, 1911: Went to Sunday school this morning and managed to get there when it was almost over. Carrie and I went up to Rhone’s this afternoon. A thunderstorm is raging now.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Interesting that Grandma mentions that Sunday school was held in the morning—on April 9 she indicated that it was held in the afternoon.  This provides further support that the church Grandma attended was part of a parish that had one minister who served several churches. The church service and Sunday school times probably regularly rotated between more and less desired times so that members of all of the churches in the parish felt like they were being treated fairly.

1911 Advice for Recent Brides

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Saturday, June 10, 1911: The carpenters went away today and I sort of miss them, especially in my stack of dishes. Heard this morning that we will have the same old teacher back that we had last year. Mrs. Edith Reynolds was here a little while this afternoon. Came with her Harry.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

I wonder if Grandma ever got to know the two carpenters she thought were cute who were helping build the barn addition.

Grandma’s friend Edith and her fiancé  Harry got married in April—on the same day that Edith graduated from high school. I wonder how the marriage was going two months later. The April 1, 1911 issues of Ladies Home Journal had this advice for recently married women:

Marriage

One thing the bride must try to remember: If things seem awry, if the home you have gone to isn’t like you thought it would be, and life begins to seem like a disappointment, it is your love, not his, that is inadequate. In the first glow of love you believed that his presence would glorify a hut; if the glory is gone it is yourself that has changed—not he. Can you understand this? You will some day.

Happily for us all, the boy and girl once married have courage to face facts that they do not quite understand; they have some sense of the sanctity of a vow taken under the auspices of religion and law; and, better still, they love each other deeply and truly, even while they misunderstand. This will tide them over until the child comes, and with its coming, if they are decent young folk, comes the utter irrevocableness of their union. They are parents. As such the dignity with which childish eyes will soon invest them begins to hang visibly about them. They dare not fail then in “their great task of happiness.”

“The Ideas of a Plain Country Woman,” Ladies Home Journal (April 1, 1911)

Whew, in 1911 they sure put a lot of the responsibility for a happy marriage on the woman—

A Camera

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, June 8, 1911: I got my camera this morning which I had sent for about a week ago. I have a kind of cold that is not to my liking.

Folding Kodak Brownie Camera Model A (Manufactured: 1909-1915)*

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

I didn’t realize until I read this diary entry that relatively inexpensive, easy-to-use cameras apparently were widely available a hundred years ago.

I was also surprised that Grandma received the camera only about a week after she ordered it. It often takes almost that long today to receive items that I order off the internet.

Grandma probably needed to go into Watsontown to pick up the package that contained the camera since rural parcel post didn’t begin until 1913. According to Wikipedia: “On January 1, 1913, parcel post service began, providing rural postal customers with package service along with their regular mail and obviating a trip to a town substantial enough to support an express office.”

Local merchants across the US had strongly opposed parcel post because they thought that it would give catalog companies an unfair advantage and drive them out of business, but policies were finally changed and it was implemented.

*Photo Source: Camera-Wiki.org (Photo by Steve Harwood)

A Spanking and a Growling

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Sunday, June 4, 1911: Went to Sunday school this afternoon. Carrie Stout was over this evening. Somehow she happened to stay so late that her mother came after her. Guess she got a spanking and maybe a growling also.

 Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Even though there have been previous diary entries about mothers using corporal punishment to discipline teens (see the February 25 entry where Grandma’s mother chased her with a stir stick)—I’m still in shock that parents apparently spanked teen-aged children a hundred years ago. And that the teens apparently accepted the punishment.

Using theTelephone to Call Sister

16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Saturday, June 3, 1911: Went over to Stouts this forenoon to telephone to Besse. The carpenters went away tonight.

Grandma would have walked over this hill toward McEwensville to reach the Stout home. The house that the Stout's lived in burned down many years ago. A hundred years ago the road was still dirt.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

It’s interesting how the telephone has gone from being a new curiosity that Grandma was afraid to try less than a month ago to a tool that she uses to call her married sister Besse.

The carpenters were building the addition on the barn—and Grandma seemed to think that two of them were cute (see yesterday’s entry). But why does their leaving merit mention in the diary?  Did they come from a distance and typically stay overnight at the Muffly’s? (It may have been considered acceptable  hundred years ago for transient laborers to sleep in the barn.)  Maybe the carpenters left because the next day was Sunday and they won’t be working.  .  .