Tag: Joe O’Banion

  • Joe O’Banion

    Joe O'Banion Obituary

    Excerpt from Transcript http://lcweb2.loc.gov/diglib/vhp/story/loc.natlib.afc2001001.10417/transcript?ID=sr0001

    If two fellows get in kind of a fight and they’re face-to-face and they think they’re going to punch one another out, if any one of them says, hey, I must take a lesson, let’s cut this out, most likely, they’ll back off and there’s no fight. And that was the way for a long, long time. However, when it came to fighting and you had weapons that were three- and four-foot long and staffs and so forth, why, you know, you better take down your opponent.

    If there was any occasion that the fellow says, “Hey, I give up,” things stopped. When they developed a long bow, they weren’t face-to-face. And the long bow was able to reach out, and so you couldn’t see the face of your opponent, and if he wanted to give up, how could you tell. So, I mean that’s one result, a lot of people were killed. And during the wars, as things developed, the (?bow rifle?), American Revolution, Civil War, you couldn’t see the face of your opponent.

    And hundreds and hundreds were slain, because whoever had the power couldn’t see the face of their opponent and they just slaughtered them. And as weaponry developed, more and more people can be and have been killed because of that one factor. And if you’re in an airplane several thousand feet up in the air, and you drop a bomb, you can’t see who in the heck you’re wiping away.

    Every Vote Counts

    Soap Sally

    Smarty Cat

    Worlds Greatest Popcorn Salesman

    Rules to Live By

    Hard Times at the Claypool Courts

    “Papa Plays Piano” video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=Cq8Py3dEi78
    “Two Little Blackbirds” video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1-7VIUF_8c

    Files I uploaded to Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/97230228@N06/

  • Every Vote Counts

    A guest post by Joe O’Banion.

    I was in a public office for almost 20 years, which necessitated the running for office every so often.

    During one campaign, I was greatly embarrassed with one episode concerning the placement of some of my yard campaign signs. I asked a good acquaintance of mine if he would place one of my signs in his yard. He agreed and even asked me for four signs so that he could place them in other peoples yards that he knew would be supportive.

    I told him that I was going to go to the local cemetery to visit a grave site and that when I finished, I would drop by his home and leave the signs for him. He told me that he also, was going to the cemetery as well and that he would meet me there.

    I put four of my signs in the back of my car and drove to the grave of my youngest son, Kevin.

    As I was getting out of the car, my friend with his pick up truck pulled up behind us. As I was unloading the signs from the back seat of my car, I had removed two and rested of them against my car and went about getting the remaining signs out, when another friend of mine, happened to be driving by as well.

    He stopped his car, rolled down his window and yelled, “Joe, how many votes do you think you will be getting from here? This is not Cook County Illinois.”

  • Soap Sally

    My wife and I operate a photography business where we do a lot of work restoring, copying, duplicating, and repairing old photographs, which is usually brought to us by a member of the family. The important part of the photograph most every time is an image of a family predecessor. Parts of the image could be missing, damaged to a slight or greater degree and the customer wants a much better picture, usually to be hand painted when completed.

    On a fine summer day, a man comes into the studio and shows me a picture of his father, sitting in a chair on a front porch, surrounded by all his seven children.

    The man spent the next hour and a half telling me of his father, the town and how he grew up with his brothers and sisters in a small, rural, Georgia town with a population about one hundred people.

    The photograph was of a smiling man, sitting on a front porch in a straight back chair, wearing bib overalls, and surround by all of his seven children. Each child . . . had a very big smile, some standing, some sitting on the porch but each one, in some manner was touching their father. The tallest ones in back had an arm around his neck, two shorter ones were beside the chair, their arms entwined around his and leaning on him; one that was sitting had their upper arm in his lap, a young girl had her arms around his leg with her head resting on a knee. Another child on the other side likewise was doing the same thing. Two sitting in front were leaning back against his legs.

    The man explained that their mother had died and his father had taken care of all the brothers and sisters by himself. “We all had a good time growing up in that town, didn’t know we were very poor but we knew we were very lucky because our Daddy had a job and went to work every day, except Sunday when we all went to church.”

    They were poor! None of the clothing they wearing in the picture appeared to be new or seemed to fit. Sleeves were too short or too long and rolled up. Overall legs of those standing seem to be turned up to different lengths and showed previous fold over marks where that had been worn by previous owners through the years.

    They all looked clean. The father’s white shirt was ironed but not starched and give you the idea that it was old and had been washed many times. His overalls were thread bear in places, holes at the knees because of use and not because of fashion.

    “We were soooo good. Everyone in town knew us and watched us. Our daddy would come home and tell us what we had done or been into that day.” The eyes in the back of his head were excellent and saw everything, even though he had to have a strong light to read. It was not until I was older that we realized the people in the whole town were in on everything.

    “There was one place where we were not go and definitely not too do if we got there. That was the swimming’ hole down by the crick not too far from our house. It also was not too far from Soap Sally’s place where she did the wash for the whole town.

    “If we went to the swimming’ hole and our sisters went with us so very few times did we skinny dip. The creek water with that red Georgia clay left our clothes tinted red. We never could figure out how our dad knew we went swimming’.

    “Soap Sally did our wash for us and the whole town, for those who could afford to do so. I realize now that we could not really afford it, but Daddy worked long and hard and he did not really have time to do it ourselves.

    “Soap Sally’s place was on the top of a hill near the swimin’ hole. She had at least three big black kittles in her front yard where she did the town wash. There were many long clotheslines with crossed supports everywhere to hold the lines and wash up. It seems she washed day and night for when it was dark, you could see the fire and embers burning under the big kettles. It was a pretty sight on a windy day to see everything of all colors whipping in the breeze.

    “When she delivered our wash to the house, when we kids were there, we would hide behind the posts on the front porch, peek through the curtains in the house or through the doorway. We even hid behind our dad and peek around him when she was there.

    “One of the known facts in town was that all boys and girls had to be good because, if any boy or girl who was not good were sold to Soap Sally. If they were very bad, they wouldn’t be sold, they were given to her. When she got them, she would take them home, put them in one of her hottest and biggest kittles, and make soap from them.

    “None of the kids in our town really every got into any trouble. Most all of them grew up, worked very hard, and did well. A few really accomplished a lot with very little to begin with. One of my brothers and one of my sisters even went to college. My brother became a lawyer, but we still loved him, and my sister was a nurse. My eldest brother became a car salesman, we still loved him too, and he had a car repair business as well.

    “It was a good time for all of us. It was a good town as well. When we get together, we would talk and reminisce.”

  • Smarty Cat

    mexican-catMy daughter in law’s family and many of her close relatives live in Mexico. Her home was humble; dirt floor, not too many rooms but occupied by many family members.

    Their province was mostly savanna. The home was near a small stream. Fuel was obtained from the stunted tree and vegetation on their ranch. Animals on the ranchero consisted of flocks of chickens, ducks, some geese, a few pigs, and two cows for milk. The also maintained an extensive garden for vegetables, which would have been impossible without the small stream.

    A village was nearby which a few retail stores had. Most of them had electric power, but many also had no power source what ever. The village also had a post office, a large catholic church, blacksmith shop, repair shop, feed and grain mercantile store and a filling station.

    The only useless thing around their home was a cat that managed one day to stray onto the premises. The never seemed to any mouse hunting by the cat; there were not many nice, even if mice were around. The decision was made to get rid of the cat because it added nothing to the ranch and it also did not seem friendly as well. If anyone tried to reach down to pet her or pick her up, the creature would shy away. Rudolpho [Rudy] was the second cousin chosen to get rid of the cat by taking in way out on the savanna and loosing it.

    Rudy managed to pick up the cat, and took the animal two hours away from the house and put it on the ground. He walked further on and noticed that occasionally, the cat would disappear and seemed to scouting around in the sparse vegetation.

    On one of these occasions, Rudy hurriedly walked away toward the ranch house. He looked over his shoulder several times and the cat was nowhere to be seen. He slowed his pace and casually returned to home around sunset. There on the front porch was the cat. It had beaten Rudy home.

    Three days later, Rudy tried again. This time he went in a different direction and further out. The cat did the exploration trips along the way and as before, and on one of those excursions, Rudy ran as fast as he could, away from the cat but, not in the direction of the ranch. He stopped running and waited for a short time and the cat did not show up.

    He had succeeded!

    Rudy then turned toward the ranch, only to find again, the cat sitting on the front porch of the house.

    Not wanting to admit defeat, Rudy thought of a fool proof plan. He would pack a lunch, a big canteen of water, and take the cat and walk in a zigzag pattern all over the savanna.

    He did this until evening, and at sunset, he sat down, opened his food and curled up and went to sleep. The next morning, the cat was nowhere, there was a little food left, which he ate, and drank some water. He started back to the ranch, truing to find landmarks that were familiar to him.

    After wondering around for quite a long time, he could not find anything that looked familiar. He finally concluded that he was lost. He was in deep trouble. He did not have too much food and only a limited supply of water.

    He reconnoitered his location with the help of the sun, and began his trip to the ranch. He was not sure, but he felt that he was going in the right direction.

    Unbelievably, about fifteen minutes in his walk, he came across the cat. He felt lucky. He gave the cat some of the food he had, some water from the cap of his water bottle.

    The rest of the day, he followed the cat and after about two hours, they both were back at the house on the ranch.

    The family was happy to see Rudy back and all agreed, they would have to keep the cat.

  • Worlds Greatest Popcorn Salesman

    Many years ago, when my grandson was with his grandmother and me for several extended visits, became very close. We were in fact, “kindred spirits” and between the tow of us, we could do no wrong. This was especially true if his mother and grandmother did not know what we were up to. I think several times I told him, “Don’t let you grandmother know about this, otherwise she would get madder then “hell.”

    We never did anything bad, but as kindred spirits, we realized that we would not receive a full nod of approval his grandmother of his mother concerning some of the things we were doing.

    Critter and I were great friends, compatriots, and we had an almost perfect understanding with one another. He was great for me and I feel that I was beneficial for him. We were a great team.

    One of the deeds he signed up for was to become a member of a Pee Wee League baseball team. His grandmother and I went to some of his practice sessions and to all of his games. In one memorable game, their catcher managed to pick up a ball that the batter in the box hit. The ball had a reverse spin to it and therefore came back to the catcher.

    The pitcher, the first baseman, the short stop, the third baseman who wanted to take the runner from second: everyone was telling the catcher, “Throw me the ball!” The poor fellow was greatly confused as to where to throw the ball. He knew he needed to throw it – but where?

    After turning in the direction to the teammates who were asking him for the ball and making partial attempts; in disgust, he slammed the ball down in the dirt right in front of him. The people in the stands had a great time, whooped, hollered, and applauded him. He was so proud of himself with all the recognition he was receiving.

    Critter was having a great time with everything. What a wonderful experience for him and for me. Once on second base he really had some difficulty. His bladder was about the size of a peanut [so his mother said] and while on second base, two batters were to follow him. However, he was really dancing a jig out on second base. As a concerned grandfather, I interfered and went to his coach and had him observe the “goings on” of Critter on second.

    The coach called time out and went to second base, Matthew, alias for Critter, took off like a shot to the bull pin latrine. If he could ran as fast around the bases as he did to the dug out, he could have made a home run every time he came to bat.

    One of the agreements we had, concerned taking a bath – not one of his favorite things to do. The agreement was that if his team one a game, he would not have to take a bath that evening. Unfortunately, his team last every game but the last game of the season. He had forgotten the agreement but his grandmother reminded him. He certainly had a very big smile on his face when he took great pleasure of telling me that since his team won, he did not have to do the bath process.

    He always took great pleasure when he got the best of me. What a wonderful grandson.

    Another time when he really got the best of me concerned a fund raising project selling popcorn. I asked him if he knew how to sell popcorn and he said he did.

    Let’s try you out. You go outside on the front porch, ring the bell and I will open it and you sell me some popcorn.

    He did go out on the porch; I closed the door and waited. After a long wait, I heard the bell, I opened the door and asked, “May I help you?” He responded with, “You want to buy some popcorn?” I said “No” and closed the door.

    Another long wait. The doorbell rang again; I opened the door and said, “Hi! May I help you?” He then said,”How do I sell pop corn?” I said, “Let’s go sit down and I will tell you how to do it.”

    He sat the swing and I sat in a chair facing him when through the procedure.

    First of all, introduce yourself with your name and explain that you are with a Pee Wee team and were given the responsibility to sell popcorn. Also, tell them that you really don’t want to do it but you want to support your team. Be honest! Then tell them that you probably have the best popcorn ever and that every kernel is guaranteed to pop.

    He smiled somewhat and said, “I can’t tell them that.” My response was the he certainly tell them what I had suggested. You should then tell them, “All you have to do is keep the kernels that do not pop and give me a phone call. I will come back and give you two kernels for each one you have that didn’t pop.”

    He was convinced what I told him was the thing to do, so off he went with his order forms to sell popcorn. My god, did he sell popcorn! He had all his lists filled and some buyers had more than one box purchased. I was so proud of him. It was great for him, but his job made a lot of trouble for me.

    Sometime later, I was notified that the popcorn orders were in and I needed to pick them up. Between the time, he turned his orders in and the time they arrived for delivery, my grandson returned to his mother in California. I went to the pick up delivery point and there were five cases of popcorn for him [me], to load and deliver. I had to go back home and get my station wagon to load up his cases.

    It took me three days to deliver his orders. At one home, the woman of the house said, “I had four boxes of popcorn on my shelf. However, the smile he had on his face and the story he told me, I had to order some more corn from him.

  • Hard Times at the Claypool Courts

    Many years ago, the Claypool Courts Hotel, located on the Monument Circle, in Indianapolis, Indiana was one of the finest hotels in state. The coffee shop was very first-rate. In this story, the hotel was the central location of the events that follow.

    The weather was extremely cold, below zero and early in the morning of this particular day, a fine glaze of ice and hoar frost was on the landscape. My wife, Helen, had gone to Shreveport, Louisiana to visit her family and had taken my youngest son, Kevin, with her. Kevin, who was under five years old at this time, often stood behind the bus driver on the trip from Shreveport to Indiana. Kevin would tell the driver that he was going home because his father was missing him.

    It was a Sunday and there was a strong sun out which was dissipating frost and ice. The bus was to arrive in Indianapolis around noontime and Rosemary, a woman from my work and friend of the family was with me. We had left early in the morning, taking time to avoid any mishap because of ice that was still in many places on our route. We arrived almost two hours before the bus was to arrive so I parked the car on the circle near the Claypool Courts, and both of us went in and entered the coffee shop and for some coffee and sweat rolls.

    An hour had passed and we decided to go to the bus station, which at one time was Indiana Urban electric traction terminal, to check on the bus arrival.

    cigsOn first entering the Claypool Courts on our arrival in Indianapolis, the weather was still below zero, and when we took a breath, the mucus in our nostrils froze a little. At this time, I was smoking menthol cigarettes and I knew that going outside in the extreme cold would cause a coughing spell. I had just lit a cigarette upon leaving the coffee shop and not wanting to smoke on the way to the terminal, I was looking for a place to extinguish it. The entrance to the hotel was a revolving door. Near the entry door were two elevators, which had a cigarette urn between them. I stopped at the urn and put my smoke in the sand.

    We walked to the bus stop that was one block away, and I went to the dispatcher window to check on the arrival. The dispatcher told me that the bus would be late by one hour because of the road conditions. The bus terminal was really not a place to spend an hour; it was much cluttered with debris, dirty, and was not heated. Because of this, the two of us decided to return to the coffee shop.

    On re-enterring the hotel, we saw two couples waiting by the elevator. They were dressed nicely, and being a Sunday, there appearance was more than proper. I also noticed that my cigarette was still in the urn. Therefore, when Rosy and I were abreast of the elevators, I stopped between the two couples, stepped between them and said, “Excuse me please,” and retrieved my cigarette.

    Rosy was extremely embarrassed and continued into the coffee shop, leaving me way behind her. In a way, I do not blame her.