Danville and Danville VA Center

My friend Phil graciously walked with me the last day of the walk, displaying great courtesy and patience. He also brought along his camera. I'm very grateful for that.

Phil gave me permission to display his pictures here, and I thank him for that.

Danville's Fine War Museum and Memorials

Elijah and His Dad Showed Me the Memorials

Sparky Knew Me as Soon as I Entered the Museum. He's the Heart and Soul of the Place.

Jim Dill, Photographer and Guide

Made it!

Jim Dill and Rob just over Indiana Border

The Border is Actually Right Here

Phil Finally Agrees to Be in a Picture!

Rob and Phil's Trudge Nears Its End

Yes, This Sign Is Well Past the Border, but It's Big

Channel 15 News, Just Before Leaving the VA Center

VA Hospital in Danville, Illinois, September 30, 2010

The reception I got from the staff and veterans at the VA Center and Hospital in Danville, Illinois, was overwhelming. The staff had brought out everyone they could. It was a beautiful day. I certainly never expected the hero's welcome and all the applause I got. Each time a group applauded me, I told them I took the applause as being for all of our veterans.

Great Reception at the VA

Rob Enters VA with Entourage

Danville Photo

Phil Hamer and Rob Siedenburg Leaving VA Center

Only 4 miles to go to the Indiana border, after our visit to the Danville VA Center. Photo courtesy of Jim Dill.

Day 30, September 30—Destination Indiana Border (but with a Detour)

Danville

Present-day Danville was the site of a Piankeshaw Indian (http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org/entry.php?rec=617) village. The Piankeshaws were part of the larger Miami Indian Nation. The Spaniards who passed through the area in search of El Dorado, or at least in search of gold, in the 1590s noted the village. French explorers and trappers also mentioned the village at a much later date. By about 1800, the Potawatomies and Kickapoo had moved into the area, and the Piankeshaws moved west of the Mississippi, somewhere along the Missouri River.

In 1819, a party of men came to the southeast corner of present-day Oakwood Township, where they found bark-lined shallow wells, which Native Americans had long used to make salt. There are two rivers named “the Vermilion River.” One flows generally southerly and later empties into the Wabash River near present-day Cayuga, Indiana. The other flows about 90 miles northwesterly and empties into the Illinois River near Oglesby, Illinois. The north-flowing Vermilion has some serious white water (Wildcat Rapids, class II to class III water) between Lowell and Oglesby, but it’s now closed to rafting and boating because of a number of fatal accidents. There are also two streams called “the Little Vermilion,” one flowing into the Illinois and the other into the Wabash.

Before so much of Illinois’s swampland was drained for farming, the north-flowing Vermilion, which actually arises in Ford County, Illinois, drained into marshland near present-day Roberts.

To further complicate matters, there are two counties, one in Illinois, and the other in Indiana, the Illinois one spelled “Vermilion,” and the Indiana county spelled “Vermillion.”

The Native Americans had named the rivers for the reddish-brown color of the water, which was caused by deposits of copperas stone, of the same color. The early European settlers began processing salt soon after their arrival, and that production would continue until lower-priced salt could be shipped to the port at Chicago from the rich deposits on the Kanawha River, which eventually flows into the Ohio River at  Point Pleasant, West Virginia.

Danville is the county seat of Vermilion County, Illinois. It wasn’t actually the first county seat, but it has been the county seat since it was established. The city was founded in 1827 on 60 acres of land donated by Guy W. Smith and 20 acres donated by Daniel W. Beckwith, who was to die of pneumonia about 8 years later, following a horseback ride from Washington, when he was only 40 years old. Williams and Beckworth platted the original town of Danville. Beckwith is said to have suggestion the names “Williamsburg” and “Williamstown,” after the man in whose house the first post office would be set up, one Amos Williams, but the town would take Beckwith’s first name as its basis.

Beckwith came from Pennsylvania, where he had been born in 1795. As a young man he moved west to Indiana, and he made his first trip to the future site of Danville with some of the earliest settlers in 1819. He was interested in the salt springs found in the Vermilion River. The area near and under Danville contained an immense deposit of coal, known as the “Danville Member,” which extended well into Indiana. Along Interstate 74 west of Danville, you can see the results of the open-pit mining that exploited some of that mineral. Some of the first open-pit mining in the world is believed to have been done right near Danville.

Some of the aftermath of the mining looks a bit like a warscape, but much of the mined area was converted into recreational lakes that now form part of the Kickapoo State Recreation Area and Kennekuk Cove County Park.

Danville has had an illustrious history, and boasts many home town people in show business. A number of local streets bear the pictures of some of those celebrities, who are almost too numerous to list. If you know who Gene Hackman and Dick and Jerry Van Dyke are, then you have a good start on the star-studded list of actors who come from Danville.

On September 20, 1838, a group of Pottawatomi Indians, who were being forcibly removed from Indiana to Kansas, camped at Danville. The Indiana officials who had escorted the Indians that far turned them over to the Illinois Indian agent, who took them the rest of the way to Kansas.

Danville is home to a number of industries including Motion Industries, Cronkhite Industries, Mervis Industries, Greenwood Plastics, Troxel Industries, Bryant Industries, McLane Trucking, Autozone, Blue CrossBlue Shield. and Mid State Industries. Unfortunately many of the jobs that once abounded in industrialized Danville are now to be found in Indonesia and China, and the area has experienced an economic turn-down.

Danville is home to Danville Area Community College, a large state correctional facility, a veterans’ center (formerly a VA hospital), and a federal cemetery. A recent teacher wage contract dispute is now settled, and the kids are happily back in school.

Oh, yes. I almost forgot. Abe Lincoln spoke from the balcony of the home of his friend Dr. William Fithian (after whom nearby Fithian is named) in September 1858. Lincoln had first visited Danville to represent Dr. Fithian in a court case. The two had become acquainted in the Illinois house, when both served there back in the 1830s. Of course the Eighth Judicial Circuit, presided over by Judge Davis, also met in Danville, and Lincoln followed those sessions.

The Vermilion County Museum features Dr. Fithian’s house. The claim is made that the bed where Lincoln slept, the window through which he stepped, and the balcony from which he spoke are preserved just as they were at his last visit to his friend and supporter, Fithian. To that I say, it’s probably time to change the sheets.

I arrived in Danville, footsore and weary (OK, it was my knees that really hurt; my feet were fine) in the afternoon on Wednesday. I’m really glad I didn’t stop for the day in Hillery, because Thursday’s walk, though one of my shortest, was for some reason one of the most difficult.

The friends whom I met in Ogden, who invited me into their home for coffee, told me about a place in Tilton, just south of Danville on Gilbert. They said I really had to see it and eat there, so I headed south across the bridge to Tilton. The joint is called “Gros’ Burger,” and it is classic Americana. The owner (last name of Gros) served with the U.S. Marines. He has turned the restaurant into a place to honor Marines, and he’s done a great job of it.

I had a triple cheeseburger, Gros fries, and a Pepsi. If you remember small-town American, when hamburgers ruled the land, you’ll enjoy Gros’ Burger. Those burgers are definitely a cut above. Try it; you’ll like it. When I had finished eating, I went out to the pickup and got some of my walk flyers. I gave one to the owner, who, as it happened, had seen Mary Kay Sweikar’s excellent front-page article the previous day (Tuesday) on the first page of the Danville Commerical News.

Mr. Gros seized a very large hand bell and rang it vigorously. After he had everyone’s attention, he said, “We have a celebrity in the house. This is the man you read about in yesterday’s paper. He’s walking across Illinois to support our troops and veterans.” The place rang with applause, and everyone wanted a flyer. Many shook my hand, and I thanked the veterans for their service.

As I was leaving the restaurant, I got a call from Mary Kay, who had just gotten a call from the Danville Veterans Center and Hospital. She gave me the phone number, and I called Tresa in Volunteer Services at the VA. She asked what time on Thursday I would be walking past the entrance. She wanted to have some vets out on Main Street when I walked past. After we had chatted for about 10 minutes, we left it that I would detour through the VA center on the way to the border.

I decided to drive home to my own cushy bed, sweet wife, supper table, Wi-Fi hookup, and so forth, and thus it was that at 6:30 Thursday morning I was driving east on I-74 to get back to the War Memorial in Danville so I could start my walk again on my final day.

Flag, Bike, and Pickup, with WWI Memorial in Background

The package on the luggage rack holds walk brochures for the residents of the V.A. Center and Hospital.

WWI Memorial and Flag in Danville

An old friend (old refers to the age of the friendship rather than of the friend), Phil Hamer, a Marine veteran, had offered to walk with me on my last day, and I was grateful. Of course being a bit corny, I had to quip that I had a Marine escort through town for my safety and protection. Phil had thoughtfully positioned his pickup just across the border in Indiana at a local roofing company, which had graciously permitted him to leave it there. That would save me a ride back through Danville.

Of course riding back would have shown the flag one last time, but with the high, gusting wind that began blowing toward noon, putting the bike in the back of Phil’s pickup to return to my pickup turned out to be a blessing. In fact at one point, during a radio station interview, the bike blew over, breaking off the mounting bracket for the tail light.

Phil and I were just starting the walk when A. J. Bayatpour, a video journalist from Channel 15 News pulled up and wanted an interview. That interview (http://www.wicd15.com/newsroom/top_stories/videos/vid_3129.shtml) delayed the start of the walk by more than 20 minutes, but I had learned to take press and other media coverage where I could get it, and all media coverage, including this interview, was supportive of the troops.

Phil pointed out the Walldogs murals along the way (I would get to feast my eyes on more of them later). [Marine protection or not, Phil’s knowledge of the local area was invaluable to me on Thursday’s walk, and I really enjoyed the fellowship along the way.] The Walldogs are artists from as far away as New Zealand (there’s a signpost downtown that tells the distances to their homes), who came an painted lovely murals throughout Danville’s downtown area. The Tourist and Convention Center has a booklet for sale for $5.00 that is well worth the money. If you get to spend some time in Danville, by all means pick one up.

We had calculated the distance to the Indiana border at about 6 miles or so, but the detour into the VA Center added possibly another mile.

Also, our start was delayed by the Channel 15 News interview and by a second interview with three local radio stations. The visit to the VA gave us the opportunity to shake hands with many patients and residents, as well as with many staff members and volunteers. Anthony met us out at the entrance and walked with us the entire time we were on the compound, giving us some real insights into the history and development of the place. I want to delve into that history because it’s quite a story. Anthony asked a fellow employee to e-mail me some of the history, along with some of the pictures she took Thursday, and I’m looking forward to getting that e-mail.

Danville friends of mine, Jimmy and Nicky Dill, not only drove out in separate vehicles to the VA to greet me, but later they fed me black bean chili at their home, and Jimmy also accompanied me to the War Museum and to another veterans memorial near their home. In addition he came out to the Indiana border and took a number of pictures with his digital camera. I got to spend some time with their son Elijah, a fine young gentleman. Now I just have to figure out how to get the pictures from Jimmy, because his computer is in the computer hospital at the moment, and he’s without e-mail.

I’ll skip the history of the VA Center for now and talk a bit about the veterans I met. Some are confined to wheel chairs. Some are quite mobile, but have serious medical problems. Some had tears running down their faces as we grasped each other’s hands and talked. One elderly gentleman sang me a hymn about finishing our journey. Of course the hymn was about our spiritual journey, but I found it appropriate for the last day of the walk.

One group of vets wanted their picture with me, and I was honored to stand with them. Some of these men are from what Tom Brokaw called “the greatest generation,” World War II veterans, who helped keep not only this country, but much of the world free from tyranny, at least until the next outbreak of egoistic insanity on the part of a national leader somewhere on the face of this green earth.

Before we left the grounds, Anthony handed me a small, velveteen bag with a draw-string, with the words “Thanks for all you do” on the outside, and a beautiful flag pin honoring veterans on the inside. I was overwhelmed. I apologize for not remembering the names of all the staff members who accompanied me (Tim was interviewed on the Channel 15 News program). Anthony led us into one of the 2 chapels that are collocated on the grounds. The building is beautiful, inside and out.

The Center impressed me, especially with the spirit of the veterans and the big-heartedness of the staff. Hey, I’m a veteran, and sooner or later I’ll need care of one kind or another in that facility. One of the ladies said I should come see her; she’d give me a job. When I asked Anthony about that, he said the offer was probably legitimate if she wasn’t wearing pink pajamas. Anthony shook my hand back out at Main Street. I was emotionally exhausted, but I wouldn’t have missed the visit for the world. Thanking and honoring vets is what this walk has been about, and this visit meant a lot to me.

Phil and I didn't think it could be too much farther to the border, but two people said it was about 4 miles. How could one of my shorter daily walks be so long? But we made it. Along the route of march, many people honked, waved, gave us a thumbs up, or stopped to thank us for walking. One older man (well, older than I am, in any case) stopped and gave me a 10-dollar bill and told me to get myself a good lunch after I finished the walk.

As we passed the large Danville Correctional facility on our right, I joked to Phil and said we should pick up the pace a bit so we wouldn't get invited inside. He opined that it might be best to not seem in so much of a hurry, so the guards in the towers wouldn't think we were escapees. I'm not sure I would have had the stamina to pick up the pace, in any case.

If my watch (a gift from my son for the walk; it has a compass and a thermometer) and memory serve me correctly, we wrapped up the walk (and the photo session) at about 12:30 p.m. I had crossed Illinois, and I was standing in a verdant stand of Canada thistles in front of a large sign welcoming motorists to Indiana (though we were actually 100 feet or so into Indiana. Someone asked how I felt, and I said, "tired."

Phil and I went inside the roofing business to thank them for letting him park his pickup there. Then I took a small screwdriver out of my pocket and disassembled the PVC pipe that has held the flag staff from the luggage rack on the bike, and we put the bike, pipe, and flag into bed of Phil's pickup and headed back west to our starting point. I'm sure glad I hadn't planned 11 miles that day, and I'm very grateful to Phil, Jimmy, Anthony, Tim, A. J., and everyone  else who was so kind to me during my walk through Danville.

Phil gave me a mini tour of the Walldog murals, but it will take another visit to do them justice.

Danville also has a great War Museum, which I mentioned a few paragraphs earlier, a must-see for veterans and for those interested in military history. If you visit the museum, Sparky will likely show you around. To my amazement, when I entered the building a couple of hours after the walk ended, he came up to me, shook my hand, and thanked me for my walk across Illinois. He had recognized me from my picture in the paper. He gave us a great tour in the short time we had (the museum was closing in less than an hour), and I learned enough to know that I want to return to see and hear more.

I admit to being overwhelmed by the cultural, historical, artistic, and military connections in Danville. It would take lots more study and research to begin to delve into them. Danville may be down (economic downturn and loss of jobs), but she is certainly not out. The long history, the Walldog murals, the old downtown theater being refurbished, the great museums, and the connection to so many celebrities gives Danville a certain vibrancy. Danville was home to the state’s first African American fire station, depicted in a mural near the office of the Commerical News. The old station building is still standing, not far from the home of my friends the Dills.

Friend Elijah at Danville's Beautiful Vietnam War Memorial

I admit to being very weary from one of my very shortest walks of the overall journey.  (It didn't help that I was so excited Thursday morning that I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. As you can see, I’m also a couple of days behind on getting this blog posted. Several people have asked me to keep it going. Others have asked that I turn the blog into a book. Meanwhile I’m off to other adventures, teaching English at the University of Illinois, another whole story.

Before I log off, though, I’ll tell you that I plan to enhance this blog entry with photos, once they’re available (primarily from Phil, Jimmy, and the lady who took pictures at the VA). And I’ll add this little note. When I was in Lincoln, I wanted to hook up with fellow veteran and Army officer Lon Simpson, who is a master craftsman of period furniture made from wood. I mentioned in a post some time ago that I discovered that he had been recalled to active duty with the Army, and was serving in Baghdad, Iraq.

Yesterday I received a letter in the mail from Columbus, Georgia. I couldn’t imagine what it was about, so I opened it with great curiosity. It turned out to be from a friend of Lon Simpson, who is now stationed nearby. It seems this friend was reading my blog one day and was amazed to see the name of a good friend. Thanks to this thoughtful person, I now have a mail address and a phone number for Major Simpson, whom I hope to contact soon.

Paige, thank you for your thoughtfulness and kindness.

Day 29, September 29—Destination the West Side of Danville

Muncie

About 12 miles west of Danville is the little town of Muncie, which has about 200 inhabitants. (The 2000 Census recorded 155, but the population sign claims 200.) They continued their Christmas tradition form 28 years, with the Muncie Baptist Church putting on a live nativity scene along the alleyway behind the church building from 6:00 to 8:30 p.m. on the first Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights in December.

When Mary and I attended that event a few years ago, we were surprised to see a couple of camels tied up. Of course there were also the usual farm animals that might well have been in or near a stable in Bible times.

I don’t think it’s a sister city thing, but the camels come from Muncie, Indiana. The church is a friendly place, and they even build half an hour of fellowship time into their Sunday morning schedule: Sunday school 9:00 a.m., Fellowship time 10:00, Worship service 10:30. Sadly, the lady who got the live nativity started passed away about 5 years ago. Then the pastor of many years left. Then they had to get camels from Ohio, and finally the company that owned the camels started charging $3000. Others had started competing live nativity scenes, perhaps inspired by the one in Muncie, so last year (2009) they decided not to have the event. It’s a loss.

I met a very young 83-year-old lady in town who had recently acquired a horse-drawn sleigh. Along with the sleigh, she got photos, stories, and a complete history. The sleigh was complete rebuilt a few years ago by some Amish people in Columbia, Missouri, and it’s in mint condition. The new owner is hoping for at least one sleigh ride (she doesn’t have a horse), and she is planning to display the sleigh on the porch of a large house in town at Christmas time this year.

Conkeytown

Just about a mile and a half 3 miles southwest of Muncie, was Conkeytown, laid out by Jeff Conkey in 1839. Matt Smith’s Café was the scene of many battles among the feuding Cannons, Hayses, and Phelpses. The men of these families were all of very large stature and heavy build, and they all loved to brawl. The story is also told of a colorful local by the name of Jim Knox, who would stand behind a mule and let it kick him in the chest, without so much as batting an eye.

The town soon had a store, a blacksmith shop, a gristmill, and a post office. Things seemed peaceful enough until Matt Smith from Danville opened a dancehall, wine room, restaurant, and a few sleeping rooms. Smith brought in some show girls from Ohio, and their evening productions packed out the place, drawing young men from far and wide.

Conkeytown also served as an Army recruiting station during the Civil War. Jim Knox and Jim Cannon were pretty wild until their conversions at a little church that still stands near the old Conkeytown. Instrumental in their spiritual awakening was the Reverned Thomas Fulton, who, like some other preachers of his day, was reputed to be a very good fighter.

Like many other early local towns, Conkeyville eventually faded away and is no more.

Oakwood

Oakwood is home to a very dynamic high school football team. It was also the home town of Darrin Fletcher, who played baseball for the Los Angeles Dodgers, the Philadelphia Phillies, the Montreal Expos, and the Toronto Bluejays. He played professional ball from 1989 until his midseason retirement in 2002.

American actress Angela Watson was born on November 12, 1975 in Danville, and she grew up in Oakwood. She’s probably best known for her role in the sitcom Step by Step, which I confess to never having seen. Watson grew up as the youngest in the family on their farm near Oakwood, until she was 10, when her parents moved the family to Cape Coral, Florida, and began entering her in beauty pageants. She did well, and she would eventually win 60 crowns and 200 trophies. In Dallas Texas, when she was only 13, she won Model of the Year. She would later graduate from John Burroughs High School in Burbank, California.

Watson is on the Screen Actors Guild National Board of Directors. She also founded Child Actors Supporting Themselves (CAST), an organization that trains child actors and athletes to handle their finances and that aims to help protect them from those who would take financial advantage of them. She hasn’t been in any major movies that I know of, but it seems she keeps busy with various philanthropic causes.

On Oakwood Road there are several support our troop signs, listing the name and branch of service of the person from Oakwood who is defending our nation. That’s an awesome concept, and I believe I’ll try to implement something like it in Champaign when this walk is over.

The support-our-troops signs are made and put up by a lady who is a resident of Oakwood. She and her husband started the practice, and she has kept it up since his death. I salute her for this fine and important work, and for showing such great support for our troops.

Support Our Troops Signs in Oakwood

Oakwood was founded in 1870 and became a coal-mining center in the 1890s. There was actually a competing settlement, also called “Oakwood,” that was started around 1868, but  whose cemetery has burials as old as 1838. That Oakwood is about a mile and a quarter south of Muncie, and the cemetery is still there. Though the sign at the entrance says “McFarland Cemetery,” some locals call it the “Dalbey Cemetery.” Both titles derive from local family names.

When the Glenburn Mine closed in 1898, the town of Glenburn, not far to the northeast of Oakwood, perished with it. Some of the buildings (at least 5 houses) were moved to Oakwood following the demise of that mine. Some of the miners travelled on foot to other mines in the area, and some simply left the area. The old Glenburn store continued in operation, run by Oliver M.  VanAllen’s three lovely daughters, and did not close until some time in the 1950s.

Oakwood itself started life as Oakwood Station on the Indianapolis, Bloomington, and Western Railroad, which crossed Oakwood Township in 1870 and 1871. The town at the station was platted in April, 1870, just 5 months before Muncie would be platted, in September of the same year. In 1871 Henry Dulin opened a drug and grocery store, and a Dr. Gavin opened a practice. 

Later that same year, a terrible fire, fanned by high winds, burned almost the entire village. Two local shopkeepers by the name of Johns and Stewart were financially ruined. Henry Dulin rebuilt his store and later became postmaster. The fire even destroyed the railroad depot, only partially built at the time.

The following year, 1872, a smallpox epidemic struck Oakwood and the surrounding communities. Oakwood reported 15 cases, with 2 deaths, and nearby Muncie and Fithian fared even worse. But Oakwood weathered this disaster too, and by 1874 there were 12 houses and 4 buildings that housed businesses.

Oakwood is a genuine community, with community spirit and a determination to persevere. People have lovely yards and flower gardens, and the major business, as elsewhere in this rural area, is agriculture, with corn and soybean fields coming right up to the edge of town. I would venture that it’s a great place to live and raise kids.

Lovely Fall Marigolds in Oakwood

Not far south of Oakwood is a little winery. I'm used to seeing grapes grown on hill soil, but the grapes in this vineyard seem to be thriving.

 

Verdant Grape Vines

Sign at Entrance to Sleepy Creek Vineyards

Hillery

East of Oakwood, U.S. 150 turns toward the northeast and skirts Kickapoo State Park, then crosses I-74, where it runs through, Hillery, an unincorporated community in Danville Township, Vermilion County. From there Route 150 runs along Danville’s Main Street. It crosses a bridge into Danville proper, originally called the “Victors’ Bridge,” but later renamed to honor Korean War veterans. Just to the right, immediately following the bridge, is a statue of what looks like a Greek god with a sword, and the names of World War I veterans are inscribed on the sides of the obelisk that supports the statue. An American Flag on a flagpole waves high above the statue.

God willing, I’ll start the last leg of my walk on the north side of Danville’s Main Street right at the war memorial at 8:00 a.m. Thursday (tomorrow). Only one more day to go.

Day 28, September 28—Destination Fithian

Tuesday dawned a bit hazy and with a few clouds. The thermometer read 44 degrees at 5:30 a.m. For the first time on the walk, I wore blue jeans instead of shorts, and when I reached Ogden, the temperature had climbed only to 61 degrees, so that was a good choice.

I left St. Joseph at about 7:30 or so. I skipped the overpass that lifts traffic over the north-south rail line just east of town, then found a place to park along the road and began walking. At a place where I parked farther east, I was just getting the bicycle off the pickup when I spotted a military license plate on a passing vehicle. Just as I was putting the bike back on the front of the pickup about an hour later, the same man drove back in the opposite direction.

He was wearing a “proud veteran” cap, and I shook his hand and thanked him for his service to our country. We had a good talk for about 15 minutes, and found that we were in agreement as to how we feel about supporting our troops and veterans. I gave him one of my flyers, and we shook hands one last time before he headed back home.

Ogden

In Ogden, I parked in front of the library, which was actually open for the morning. I saw a lady on the porch of a house across the street, where they had a nice American Flag display, and I thanked her for flying the flag. Something about her seemed familiar, and I asked, “Do I know you?” She turned out to be a former professional colleague with whom I had worked in publishing for a number of years. She invited me in for a cup of coffee.

I had met her husband, but I had never met her brother, who had been visiting them for a few days. Because she worked on the library committee, she and her husband Mike were able to tell me quite a bit about it. She said she worked on the committee long enough to get her name on the plaque, and later quit, but I happen to know she also has a full-time job and kids, so she has plenty to do.

The median age in Ogden is 33, which is about twice that of the residents of Honduras. The town is in Ogden Township, Champaign County. The population is about 740, according to pre-Census estimates.

Ogden has its own library, called the Ogden Rose Public Library. They have just under 10,000 volumes, and they circulate just under 2000 books per year. Not bad for this little community. The library and village hall were rebuilt in 1998.

Ogden’s Rose Library, Collocated with Village Hall

To the northeast is the town park, and it has a very tasteful veterans memorial, and an American Flag flying from a flagpole. On 1 side there is list of World War I, World War II, and Korean War veterans from the Ogden Community. On the other is a plaque bearing the names of local Vietnam War veterans. What got my attention was that more than once, there were 2 or 3 people listed with the same family name.

The inscription on the monument reads, “Proudly we pay tribute to the men and women of Ogden Community who answered their country’s call. I’m blessed to these small towns honoring their veterans in this way. I’m sure some day the community will add the names of our more recent American service members to the same monument or to a nearby monument in the same park.

 Veterans Memorial in Memorial Park

 

Ogden was settled in 1870. The surrounding prairie was often bog or swampland, and drainage of land to make it suitable for farming continues to be an issue today. Just the day before I has seen a long tile line buried in standing soybeans, and much of the farmland near Ogden is also tiled.

Just west of Ogden was a grove of shag bark hickory trees, that came to be known as “Hickory Grove,” or simply “The Grove.” In 1853, the same year that my home town of Mt. Carroll was founded, John Harmeson moved from Anderson, Indiana, to the present site of Ogden. He bought 9,160 acres of land from the U.S. Government at $1.20 per acre. He then parceled out the land between his sons. John Anderson, his son, got the land where present-day Ogden is, and in 1861 he sold it to a relative, John Leney, after whom Ogden’s Leney Street is named.

John Leney platted the town in 1870. His farmhouse stood near the railroad station. He named the town after John Ogden, an early settler, who sold land to the railroad officials in exchange for their naming the town after him. In 1870 Theodore E. Haworth built the first house in the new settlement, and Patrick Brennan built another soon after. The same year, Gabriel Johnson built the third house, and William R. Hill built a store building. Thomas J. Carpenter opened the store in June, 1870.

The Champaign County fairgrounds used to be at Ogden, and of course the fair drew people from all over Champaign County. The Ogden American Legion post (998) was organized in 1946, and it continues to be an active service organization today. It was the American Legion who raised the funds to establish Memorial Park and to build the veterans memorial there.

I am indebted to the Rose Library staff for the use of the 1970 Ogden Centennial booklet that they keep on their reference shelf. The also have bound copies of numerous back issues of The Leader, the local newspaper they share with St. Joseph.

Another excellent history they have in their collection is a book that was recommended to me only yesterday (and twice more today), Essays on the Historical Geography of Champaign County: From the Distant Past to 2005, written by Dannel McCollum. The book is not only well researched, but it is also a good read, unlike many history books I’ve struggled through.

Homer
South of Route 150 on Illinois Route 49 is the little town of Homer, which is on the Norfolk and Southern Railway line. When the rails were laid south of town, the entire populace got involved. They used 18 yokes of oxen (36 oxen) to literally pull the buildings of the town south to the rail line, to the present site of the town.

Fithian

Just east of Ogden is Fithian. Millions of people travel past these little towns each year on I-74, which roughly parallels U.S. 150, my chosen route. Being of a curious nature, I’ve often left the Interstate and poked along Route 150, just to see what’s there.

Interstate highways are a great invention, though it’s sad in a way that they were copied from Adolf Hitler’s design for Autobahnen in Nazi Germany. Dwight D. Eisenhower saw those incredible 4-lane highways during and after World War II, and he decided the United States needed something of the sort. Once he was president, he was in a position to do something about the U.S. road system.

In 1919, as a young Army officer, Eisenhower had been sent across the United States with a convoy of Army vehicles, at least in part to assess the condition of the roads. By 1921, there were the beginnings of a plan to build a national network of roads.

If you take our communication system for granted, you’re not as old as I am. My parents jolted down rutted dirt roads for a good number of years. At some time in the 1930s, my dad saw his first concrete highway, U.S. Route 52, which ran right past the grade school he attended. Having never seen concrete before, the schoolboys were curious. Farm boys all, one night after school they picked up a sledge hammer left by workers and slammed it down on the smooth, gray surface, only to get a shower of concrete chips in their eyes.

When my wife’s parents came to Illinois in the 1950s so her dad Willis Robert Coggins could assume his duties as a new professor of music at the University of Illinois, there was no Interstate highway leading to Champaign. Instead, there was an old highway that turned to brick, starting at the Illinois state line. Both town people, Willis and Jesse thought they must be near the end of the earth, as they drove across a nearly flat prairie with cornfields stretching away as far as the eye could see.

They lived in Champaign long enough to see the Interstate highways extend their web throughout East-Central Illinois, and to see U.S. Route 150 paved with concrete, and then capped year after year with low-bituminous-base blacktop.

Today the Interstate Highway system boasts nearly 47,000 miles of roadway, all at least 4 lanes, and more miles are planned.

Fithian is in Oakwood Township, Vermilion County, the last Illinois county on this journey. It has a population of about 500 residents. The people who try to attract tourists to Central Illinois capitalize on local Lincoln lore through a campaign called “Finding Lincoln.” You don’t have to search, though. There are statues and historic markers littering the landscape.

There’s also a trace of Lincoln’s sojourning at Fithian, which is named after a Dr. William Fithian, who gave some land so the community could be built. Just a mile before one comes to Fithian, going east, and a little way south, there is a farm that he bought about 1830 right about when he came to Danville. He once owned more than 900 acres of land near Fithian. There’s no evidence, though, that Fithian ever lived at his farm.

Fithian and Lincoln were friends, and Fithian supported Lincoln for the presidency. In the mid 1800s Lincoln is said to have slept at Fithian’s farm on his travels. This guy slept in so many houses across Illinois, that his own bed back home must have been almost unused. And of course he also stayed often in Fithian’s home in Danville.

Dr. Fithian served in both the Illinois House and Senate. Fithian the town became a livestock and grain center, and it benefitted from the Illinois Traction System (ITS, an interurban rail line) that was built through Fithian in 1903. After the line became less important, and especially in the Great Depression of the late 1920s and early 1930s, Fithian began to lose population. (No one knows where this lost population went, and I’m still trying to find them.)

 Fithian Power Station and Depot for Interurban Electric Train Line

 

Grain and livestock are still important to the area, though, and there are some examples of interesting architecture in the town. Fithian still has about 500 residents, and they live in about 200 houses.

Tree Thump Didjeridu Company

I spent a couple of hours looking for a building in Fithian associated with this little company, but of course I didn't find it there. Rural Fithian (not the town itself) is home to the Tree Thump Didjeridu Company, operated by Phil Clark and Ben Hay, both musicians who play the didjeridu, a musical instrument played by Aboriginal peoples of Australia in Arnhem Land in the very northern part of Australia’s Northern Territory and in nearby Western Australia and Queensland. The name Tree Thump, by the way, is shared by a band. Check out the didjeridu company at http://www.treethumpdidjco.com/. At that site you can also hear a sample of didjeridu music.

The highway through Fithian is lined on the north side with American Flags, and I mentioned that to several residents. Lots of homes also display the Flag, and I thanked a number of residents for flying Old Glory. Though I saw a number of veteran license plates, I didn't get to speak to any veterans in Fithian.

I did speak to the Ford dealer, though. If Don Stallings stays in business until 2013, the dealership will be 100 years old. He took it over after his dad retired, and he worked his way up in the company, starting "in the back," working on cars. When people ask the Don when he's going to retire, he says, "Hey. This is my retirement." I don't know about you, but when I'm ready to trade in my old faithful Ford Ranger, I'm planning to go see Don Stallings.

North and northwest of Fithian there is an east-west ridge called “California Ridge,” that served as a wagon route in the 1800s for people going west as far as California. Invenergy of Chicago is planning a wind farm there, and construction may begin as early as 2011. In fact I met a section of a tower for a wind turbine when I was biking back west on Route 150 at one point today. It may be headed there. It took up both lanes of U.S. Route 150. I sure hope he didn’t meet a combine with the corn head on coming the other way.

 California Ridge in Far Distance, North and East of Royal

"Faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love."
Also north of Fithian is the little community of Hope, with just a handful of houses left. In 2000, there were 415 residents, but it's hard to believe there are that many folks living there now. The local people say the town was originally named "Faith, Hope, and Charity."

South of U.S. 150, just west of Fithian I had stopped to thank the Saddlers for their beautiful display of Old Glory. We had a great conversation for at least half an hour, and I got to help move a metal cabinet. The Saddlers were cleaning out their garage. They shared all kinds of local lore with me and gave me some tips about what is going on east and north of their place. We need more good folks like them. Their daughter retired as a lieutenant commander from the U.S. Navy, and she has visited every continent with Operation Smile. She’s a surgical nurse. Her husband was a U.S. Marine Corps pilot.

Well, folks, just 2 more day of this walk. I’m sure my knee will feel better after I stop walking so far each day, but I don’t know about my heart.