Herman H. Clausing Has Memories of Old Plank Road to Wapakoneta and Toll Gate at East end of City; Remembers Helping to Clear Farm Land of Stumps

Youthful recollections include:  The Plank Road wasn’t all planks.  One side of it was covered with planks and the other was mud, at least in wet weather.  When you met another vehicle you sometimes had no choice but to turn off the planked section and right into a veritable quagmire.  He recalled that it was also a toll road.  When you travelled East from St. Marys, the TOLL GATE was at the curve in the road, near the present city limits, on the south side of the road.  One of the “big events” of Herman Clausing’s youthful life was a ride on a Canal Boat from St. Marys to Spencerville.  He still remembers it distinctly. He recalls when the train tracks were first laid.  He also recalls the time when he was lost in the woods.  Toward evening, as the oldest child of the family he would have to bring the cows home.  And one night he couldn’t find them.  He was literally lost in the woods while looking for them.  He came to a log cabin in a little clearing.  A dog came barking forth, nearly scaring him out of his wits.  Finally he landed at Moulton, and there were the cows!  They had either wandered there of their own volition, or some one had urged them along, but he finally got them home.  He added: “That was before the days of fences, and so the cows could go where they pleased.”

Clearing the soil was the bugaboo of farm youths of the period.  They mused how wonderful farming would be if you didn’t have to clear the land anymore, when the stumps would be gone, when the land would be cleared.  Mr. Clausing recalled the abundance of snakes and “Yellow Jackets.”  (“Yellow Jackets”, in case you don’t know, look like half grown bees, carry a stinger which really packs a wallop, and defend their habitat unto death!)  Gypsies would make their rounds in those days, always trying to trade, ever getting the best of the bargain, somehow living without visible means of income, and bringing their (often diseased) horses to the farmer’s watering trough to drink the water that had already been pumped, but pumping little or nothing themselves. 

When he was deemed old enough to quit school he worked on the farm of his uncle and neighbor, Herman Katterheinrich, (grandfather of Harold Katterheinrich).  He became interested in carpentering and served an apprenticeship under William Lutterbeck.  “We would stay, for the week, where we worked.  Saturday afternoon we would come home.  The people where we stayed had to room and board us. That would be a part of the agreement.”  He recalled that the crew consisted of Herman Hoge, Chris Schroer, Pearl Arnett and Fred Schroer.  An ambition of young Herman Clausing was to own a bicycle.  “I just loved to ride a bicycle.”  He had carpentered a year before he could buy one, but the happy day arrived when at the age of 19, he had one all of his own.  Since he loved to ride it, we are not surprised to find that he did a little exploring of his own.  And this included cultivating and furthering his acquaintanceship with a young lady by the name of Matilda Howe, who, at the time, was working at the home of William Stolte.  He met her at the “Kapelle”, the Chapel located next to the Chapel School, where Sunday School was conducted on Sunday afternoons in those days.  Herman’s father was the superintendent.  The “Chapel” was well attended during its early days, before the advent of the automobile.  He recalled the names of some of the “old timers”, who have departed this earthly scene.  They included William Deerhake, Henry Fiel, Louis Schultz, William Rodeheffer, William Stolte, Sr., Henry Eversman, Herman Katterheinrich, William Korspeter, The Jauerts, Herman Knierim, Henry Lutterbeck, Carl Schultz, August Schroeder “and others that I can’t think of right now”, and his own father, George Clausing, superintendent. 

Not that he didn’t like to go to Sunday School, but there Herman Clausing would see his Matilda every Sunday afternoon, which made it doubly interesting to go.  They were married in 1896 and celebrated their golden wedding four years ago.  They first of all lived with Fred Schroer, who then operated a saw mill on what is today the Arthur Schultz farm, with Mr. Clausing working at the saw mill.

After living and working there five years, the Clausings bought their present farm on the Town Line road.  But before they had a chance to move in, the house burned to the ground.  Thereupon Mr. Clausing himself sawed the lumber (at the mill) out of which their new house was to be built.  Herman Hoge by now was a carpenter contractor, and he engaged him.  Mr. Hoge built the “shell”, (framework, roof and siding) and Mr. Clausing was to complete the interior the following winter, which he did.  He recalled that Mr. Hoge’s carpenter bill was $56.00.

It was the afternoon of Christmas Day, 1904.  That evening the annual Christmas Program was to be given at the Chapel.  His father was superintendent.  The senior Mr. Clausing had never been especially meticulous in regard to his clothing, but for that occasion, for some reason or other, he dressed meticulously.  He asked that his shirt be especially ironed, adjusted his necktie just so, shined his shoes to a brilliant luster, and brushed his hair till it was as he wanted it.  Then the family accompanied him to the Christmas program.  The program was in progress.  He was in charge.  Pastor Bachmann sat on the platform with him.  The Senior Mr. Clausing arose and announced the hymn—“Kleine Fusze Konnen Finden” (“Little Feet Can Find the Way”), whereupon Mr. Clausing collapsed with a heart attack and slumped to the floor, the hymnal dropping from his hands. The program ended therewith.  William Stolte, Jr., (“Pat”) who later married Mr. Clausing’s daughter, Sarah, was dispatched to St. Marys, (with horse and buggy) about 5 miles distance, to get a doctor.  Dr. Harry Noble came at once.  His first words, upon applying the stethoscope were: “There is no sign of life.”  Mr. Clausing had dressed himself so neatly that the family decided to have him interred in that clothing.  So the body was laid in a coffin clothed as he had clothed himself a few hours earlier, and so was laid to rest.  No, they didn’t have the body embalmed.

The Herman Clausings put their newly acquired farm home in order, drilled a well (136 feet deep, cost 90 cents per foot), and enjoyed their home for about a quarter of a century.  But on April 21, 1923, on a Saturday morning while Mrs. Clausing was baking, Mr. Clausing was working near the barn, looked toward the house and noticed that the roof was on fire.  Sparks from the chimney had ignited it and it was gaining rapid headway.  All his efforts at extinguishing it were in vain, and so he hastened inside to remove as many of the household effects as possible.  By then also, neighbors came running.  The cooking stove, with pies still in the oven, was carried out by neighbors.  Here Mr. Clausing said “But it wasn’t too bad.  The neighbors were kind and helpful and we have always tried to be kind and helpful to our neighbors.  All in all, I can’t complain.  I have enjoyed life.  We have always tried to do our best.  We must work while it is day for the night cometh.”

Following the fire they again built a new house.  But this time they added a basement.  And again the “shell” was built by professional carpenters during the summer and fall months, and Mr. Clausing himself did the inside finishing during the winter.  He hopes he’ll never have to do it again!

Their living children are Magdalena (Mrs. Chester Schultz) of Lima; Florenz of Westminster, Ohio; Rev. Walter Clausing, of Verona Wisconsin; Edward Clausing, of Findlay, Ohio; Lenora (Mrs. Harold Custer) of Dayton, Ohio; Noah Clausing, on the home farm.

Mr. Clausing’s living brothers and sisters are William Clausing, R.R. 3, St. Marys; George Clausing, R. R. 1, St. Marys; Mary (Mrs. Louis Becker) of Cleveland; Rev.  Moritz Clausing, Robertsville, Ohio.  Rev. Henry Clausing died in 1936.  Sarah (Mrs. William Stolte) and Anna (Mrs.  Ben Katterheinrich) have also died.

The Clausings are both in good health, help their son with farm work as able, are regularly in their pew in St. Paul’s church, St. Marys, and hope to keep on working “for God and for good” as long as God permits.

NOTE: The farm mentioned in the article as the Edward L. Katterheinrich farm and later the Gust Hegemier farm is located at what is now 13544 Glynwood-New Knoxville Road.

NOTE: The Plank Road mentioned in the article is the road we now know today as County Road 33A, between St. Marys and Wapakoneta. There is a historical marker in Moulton commemorating that fact.

NOTE: The brick building of the Chapel school mentioned is today a residence located at 07361 Washington Pike.

Living Biographies
by Andrew Kay

In 1949 and 1950, Reverend Edwin Andrew Katterhenry (1900-1963), a minister and a native of New Knoxville, wrote the “Living Biographies” feature for the St. Marys Evening Leader under the pen name of Andrew Kay. These articles consisted of interviews with aging citizens, many from New Knoxville and St. Marys, relating their experiences from their younger days. After Rev. Katterhenry passed away in 1963, his widow, Florence Katterhenry returned to New Knoxville to live out the remainder of her years until 1982. For those of us who are grandparents today, we remember her as “Mrs. K”. In the final “Living Biographies” article Andrew Kay wrote about himself, thus revealing his identity to the general public.