Oliver W. Hoerath

Oliver W. Hoerath Had Revenge on His Classmates When He Passed the Teachers’ Examination at Close of Freshman Year

“Hi, hayseed!”, “Hi Dutchman!”, “Sauer Kraut!” Such were the epithets that greeted the subject of today’s sketch—Oliver W. Hoerath of New Knoxville—when he was a member of the freshman class in St. Marys High School in the fall of 1898. He was then 16 years old, bashful and inclined to be reticent, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he should be thus perpetually taunted and tormented by a certain element in his class. If he would so much as open his mouth in a class meeting for instance, someone of them would call out “Sauer Kraut!” Needless to say, young Oliver was righteously indignant, didn’t like these razzings in the least and vowed a great and solemn revenge for such unwarranted ridicule. He had his heart set on being a public school teacher. And this was his vow:--To do his utmost in his studies, and to do all the extra-curricular studying possible, so that he could pass the teachers examination. Such was his determination and such was his grasp of the subject matter and his native intelligence that at the end of his freshman year, now age 17, he took the teacher’s examination at the Court House in Wapakoneta, and to his own surprise and the utter consternation of his classmates—PASSED—and got a 1 year certificate to teach! That was sweet revenge—revenge such as got the last laugh. So the next fall when his classmates trod their way back to school as pupils, he proudly bicycled his own way to school as a teacher, 17 years old, but he would be 18 in October. “Looking like the kid that I really was, I let my sideburns grow all summer so that I would look a little more mature. But after a few months of school when I felt that I had the situation well in hand, I shaved the sideburns off again.”—Mr. Hoerath recalled.

Mr. Hoerath and Lewis Kattman would make the daily trip to St. Marys High School together in a “buck-board” drawn by a mule that had seen better days. He recalled that the mule’s daily diet at noon was a sheaf of oats which they would put in a bag and carry along in their primitive vehicle. The mule was kept at a livery barn belonging to Gordon Hauss and Folk, and at noon they would go and get the sheaf of oats out of the bag and feed it to the mule.

Of that fateful examination Mr. Hoerath recalled—“It was surely a tough one for me. It lasted from 9 o’clock Saturday morning until 5 in the afternoon and covered 7 subjects. These were American History, Reading, Penmanship, Arithmetic, Physiology and Hygiene, Orthography and Spelling and Grammar.”

Although he only taught in the St. Marys school one year, some of his pupils from that school call on him to this day. Then began a 6 year tenure as teacher of the Hoelscher School where he succeeded George Holl. Here were a number of pupils who were older than he, including Fred Lammers, Ben Hoelscher, Fred Schroer, Ernst Hoge, Fred Lutterbeck and possibly more. “But they were all gentlemen and never gave me any trouble”, he said. “I would go out with them at recess and take part in their games, we often went to Hoelscher’s creek and in the winter we played “Fox and Geese,” built fortresses of snow, and had snow ball battles, ran the gauntlet and skated. Skates were unknown to us and we did our skating on our shoe soles and it wasn’t too difficult to wear out a pair of shoe soles in a few days. One noon I went to the creek with the boys and one of them dared me to attempt a certain kind of a fancy turn on the ice. I tried, hit the ice with a jolt, cracked my chin open on the ice and it bled all afternoon. I still carry the scar.”

While teaching at the Hoelscher school he became interested in a young lady from Wapakoneta, one of a family of 14 children of whom the 6 girls are still living. Ida Headapohl was her name. She was working at her brother’s in New Knoxville at the time. After 6 years of courtship the wedding bells rang after many many trips to Wapakoneta. He would go by bicycle to stop 30 at the R. R. crossing, park his bicycle at Adolph Meckstroth’s house and then proceed by street car. Once while he called on her when she was staying on a farm he went by horse and buggy. The horse had run an umbrella stay in one of its hoofs and became suddenly lame. When he wanted to return late that night, his horse couldn’t walk. So he was invited to stay overnight and Miss Ida drove him to his school the next morning. To this day when certain folks see him out walking they ask—“What? Is your horse lame again?

After 6 years he joined the teaching staff of the New Knoxville, again succeeding George Holl, thus finishing his teaching career in the school which he himself had attended as a lad. His teaching years here and at the other schools were the happiest years of his life, he said. “At New Knoxville also I would play with the pupils at recess and noon”, he recalled.” Our favorite game would be Tom Ball. We would choose sides, boys and girls would all play, and we’d have a good time. You would be out, not only on a caught ball, but also on first bounce. Sylvanus Eversman or Ferd Kuck would usually choose for one side and Raymond Henkener or Ella Meckstroth or myself would choose for the other. We would have as many as 15 or 16 on each side. Friendships developed on the play field and in the classroom which continue to this day. His last year of teaching was also the last year the old 4-room frame Village School was used.

Before he was 21 he was nominated and later elected Village clerk, having reached his majority however before taking office. Thereafter he was Mayor of the Village for 2 terms, and president of the local Board of Education for 4 years.

Mr. Hoerath recalls there was a certain well known local figure who was always the first one at the picnic grounds the morning after the picnic. He would usually find money and other valuables. But this particular morning he also found the pink lemonade booth and a quantity of lemonade syrup. The lad more than sampled it, but members of the picnic committee happened on the scene just then. They had seen him drink the syrup. Then the lad was told—“You better go to Dr. Fledderjohann immediately, if you drank much of that stuff.” And to Dr. Fledderjohann the lad went. The latter looked the lad over, had him stick out his tongue and say “aaaaaaaah”—raised his eyelashes, and solemnly said—“This is what you will have to do, and then the syrup will not hurt you. Get on your bicycle and ride and ride and ride. Then come back here and I’ll examine you again.” The lad obeyed implicitly. Returning after several hours of pedal pushing, he was sent out for a further session. But by that time the news had spread, a group of laughing villagers on a street corner aroused his suspicion and he did not return for further examination. Neither did he take further treatment.

Mr. Hoerath loves his home town and community and has ever been active in all that furthered its weal. He remembers with pleasure the time he canvassed the merchants and so was able to have a balloon ascension staged at a Labor Day picnic. But the local baseball team—The New Knoxville White Sox—was the apple of his eye. He was general manager of the team for a number of years, 1914 being the banner year when the team won 20 games and lost only one. “And I don’t think we would have lost that except for the fact that our star pitcher Bob Holtkamp had to be best man at a wedding. So we lost to the Anna, Ohio team”, he said. The team, as he remembers it consisted of Harry Kuck, Ben Feldwisch, Ed Holtkamp, Harvey Shuster, Reinhart Kuhlman, George Luedeke, George Holtkamp, Dorsey Holtkamp, Emil Hoelscher, Ferd Haberkamp, Elmer Katterheinrich, Abner Kattman, mascot, and Mr. Hoerath, general manager.

I called on Mr. Hoerath at his home where he was comfortably seated in a reclining chair preparing to teach his Sunday School lesson for the following Sunday. He is very proud of the fact that he has taught Sunday School for 43 years at exactly the same spot at the first Evangelical and Reformed church. He has a class of 42 men whom he has seen grow from young manhood to middle age, and some of whom have been in the class over 25 years. They celebrated his 40th anniversary as teacher by presenting him with the reclining chair which he was occupying at the time. “I hope I can round out 50 years of service with these men”, he said. “They have been so loyal, so fine, and I appreciate them so much.” Their annual class outings are described by class members as “the finest kind of stag affair that one could imagine.” (And I am invited to their next one!)

Mr. Hoerath expressed himself emphatically to the effect that “Religion and education are the safeguards of our nation,” and of any community. As such he believes that home, church and school must cooperate, must supplement one another and that each must make its contribution, but not over contribute. He objects strenuously to, the school for instance, having an overabundance of activities, piping the children away from home or church night after night at the expense of home or church. His own record of activities in both school and church confirms his attitude and stand. He has long been an officer in the men’s division of Church work both locally and synodically. The loyalty of men in his Bible Class is indicative of the esteem in which his acquaintances hold him.

Mr. Hoerath became mellow hearted in speaking of his mother. His own mother died when he was an infant. His father remarried before his recollections begin. Not until he was 15 years old did he learn that she was his step-mother. They were visiting with relatives one day when he saw his father’s first wedding picture and inquired—who that other person might be. “I’m glad I learned,” Mr. Hoerath said. “It makes me appreciate her all the more. Nobody could have been a better mother to me. I owe just everything to her. She was kind, she was sincere, she was patient. God bless her memory!”

Their one daughter, Kathyrn, is the wife of Dr. H. S Wiedemer of Mansfield, Ohio. His brother, Arthur Hoerath is a retired mail carrier at St. Marys; his brother Julius lives at Pittsburgh and Walter in the state of Washington.