Herman H. Hoge

Herman H. Hoge, New Knoxville Lumberman, Says trees Are Like People—They may Look Good Outside and Yet Have Rot on Inside

I wouldn’t have believed it had he not told me his age himself. Eighty year old Herman H. Hoge, founder of the Hoge Lumber Company met us in the front room of his spacious home on Main Street, New Knoxville. Comfortable in house slippers and working clothes, he was in a reminiscent and congenial mood. “I am tired tonight,” he began. “I painted the front porch today, worked on the back steps and leveled some ground. I find that at 80 I am not as spry as I used to be.” “That, in addition to being president of the company, is enough to make anyone tired” I ventured. “I am no longer active head of the company,” he responded. “I am leaving that to the boys and they’re doing a good job of it.”

But subsequent conversation revealed that he still possesses sufficient of what it takes to have completed a 4488 mile automobile trip to Yellowstone Park and Wisconsin this past summer, accompanied by his wife and her brother, W. B. Schroer, Mr. Hoge driving the entire distance.

Thinking of his 45 year stint as lumber buyer for his company I ventured: “I hear that you know more about lumber buying than any one else in Auglaize County.

“Well, if nobody knows more about it than I do, then nobody knows too much about it,” he replied modestly, smiling. “It’s with trees as with people. You can’t always tell by the outside. Some trees look allright on the outside, but are rotten or hollow within. And some don’t look like much from the outside, but their heart is good. And sometimes trees even have snakes in them.” (I was thinking of the serpents that sometimes hiss in my heart!)

Then he told how just this past winter, in three instances, snakes were found in logs that were being sawed in his mill. "Aren’t our woods disappearing rather fast?”—I asked. “Yes, they are” he replied “and it’s too bad. It seems people want to sell their woods and clear the land for farming. And as long as that’s the case, and people need lumber, there will be buyers.” “We have laws to protect game,--squirrels for instance,” I commented, “but no protection for the trees in which they live. Where are squirrel hunters going to hunt squirrels without trees?” He smiled. “It would be nice if a tree were planted for every one that is cut down. All waste land, at least, should be planted in trees, because if we want trees in years to come we’ll simply have to do something about it.”

He told of the early days of the industry, the log-wagon-days, of tree-felling by hand-saw, of grief encountered when metal is embedded in logs, of hoop-making in the days when six foot hoops brought twelve dollars a thousand, of the tribulations encountered during the early years of the industry.

Mr. Hoge was born on a farm east of New Knoxville, attended the country school, was employed as a farm hand for one year at the age of 17, worked as a carpenter for the late William Lutterbeck for 9 years, beginning at 65 cents a day, and was carpenter contractor for three years, his first construction being the Ernst Peters home. He married the late Mary Oelrich Hoge in 1893 with whom he has 11 living children.

He was one of a group which in 1900 started the “Hoop Factory” in the village of New Knoxville. This was sold three years later at Public Auction, Mr. Hoge acquiring controlling interest. The business has steadily expanded ever since.

“What has given you the greatest satisfaction in life?” we asked. He replied with, “When I was confirmed, I promised to serve God. I have tried to do so by being helpful to my fellow-men, by giving my 11 children a Christian upbringing and school training including college for those who wanted it, and through my church.”

Mr. Hoge is a life long member and faithful attendant at First Evangelical and Reformed church there, a past elder, and continues faithful in visiting the sick.“Your hobbies, Mr. Hoge? Your pastimes?” “My pastime has been my work and my family and my fellowmen. That was enough to keep me busy. I never cared for hunting. The fish always bite the day before I go and the day after, but never when I go. So I gave that up.”

Tears filled his eyes as he told of the death of his wife Mary nee Oelrich, the mother of his children. In 1943 he married Mrs. Flora Eversman, nee Schroer, of Denver, Colorado, formerly of New Knoxville, who had also lost her mate in death.

Of Mr. Hoge’s eleven children, his four sons are associated with him in the business, Arthur, Gustave, Joel and Oliver. Laura (Mrs. Ed Lageman) lives on a farm east of New Knoxville; Rebecca (Mrs. Clyde Schantz) at Lisbon, Ohio; Marcella (Mrs. Enoch Hoelscher) at South Bend, Indiana; Bertha (Mrs. Leonard Bambauer) at Cridersville, Ohio; Esther (Mrs. Richard Dalton) at Bremerton, Washington; Olga (Mrs. O. F. Hardwig) at Waverly, Iowa; Ella (Mrs. Kermit Kuck) at Sidney, Ohio.

“Speaking of myself” concluded Mr. Hoge as we started to leave, “I have had more luck than good sense.” I think he had both.

Anyhow,--Thanks for a pleasant visit, Mr. Hoge!