At the conclusion of a movie, I think it might be a Universal Film, a Big Blue Marble is shown spinning around; a Big Blue Marble photographed by various astronauts as they have circled the earth on their quests exploring outer space. When I see this spinning Big Blue Marble, called Earth, I try to focus my individual camera lens, seeking to find the patterns of various continents in familiar shapes on the spinning globe. I look even more closely to find North America, where I live, and I look for the mid-west, more specifically, Ohio. I tighten my focus to the center of Butler County, and there, in my mind, I see it, Darrtown, a little, tiny community that might be unappreciated and unrecognizable, by anyone traveling North on Rt. 177 from Hamilton, Ohio, to Richmond, Indiana.
This is the kind of community that if you blink while driving through, you might miss. There are hundreds…thousands of such unappreciated communities, in the state, in the country, in the continent, and in the world. Yet to dismiss these little communities would be to miss the home of several generations of several families and what these community members to “the greater society” contributed would be lost.
As you travel along the road one-half mile through Darrtown on Highway 177 nothing outstanding attracts travelers. There are no outstanding skyscrapers or potpourri of beautiful homes; there are no smells to whet the appetite (except the occasional pungent whiff of manure); there are no shopping malls or array of stores to entice shopping junkies. Oh, there is a small grocery store, Don’s Grocery, which belonged to Don’s grandparents and then his parents, where you can buy soda, beer, and other necessities like, milk, bread, and eggs (but Don doesn’t sell penny candy like his grandparents did).
Next to Don’s Grocery is the Hitching Post; a long established roadside watering hole for local residents and college kids from a university town when the town was “dry”. Local pride is demonstrated by a sign on the wall of The Hitching Post:
America: The Best in the World
Ohio: The Best in America
Darrtown: The Best in Ohio
Darrtown does not espouse to be a hotbed of celebrities. However, Walter “Smokey” Alston, former manager of the Brooklyn “Bums” and the L.A. Dodgers was raised, schooled and died in Darrtown. Because of Smokey, the Darrtown residents have been loyal fans to the Dodgers despite Darrtown’s close proximity to the Cincinnati Reds.
Darrtown has been the home to both the Methodist and Lutheran Churches for generations. Little churches whose quaint pews might hold 50 parishioners. A new third church, Baptist, has joined the religious community of Darrtown recently, indicating a growth in the town as well as in religious beliefs.
Tradition has been a way of life in Darrtown, but now the older generations are dying off and new families are moving to Darrtown; the complexion of the community is changing as well as its attitudes and traditions. The planted roots of the old “Darrtowners” are deep, but today’s roots don’t grow as deep as the new families come and go leaving behind them their Darrtown “home.”
A group of old “Darrtowners,” The Darrtown Stock Protective Association, which was originally formed as a vigilante group to chase away chicken, cattle, and horse thieves, still gathers together for an annual oyster dinner the first Saturday in February. To keep their tradition rich the men still buy the food, as they have for the last century while the women prepare the oysters in a variety of ways; the men still eat together in the dining hall while the women still eat in the kitchen. These activities are well grounded traditions, for most of these people have been attending the dinner for over half of a century. Those eating at the oyster dinner this year are well over 70 yeas old; the oldest attending this year was 94, the youngest was a mere 47.
This network of old “Darrtowners” in the Stock Protection Association hang onto the town’s precious history as they live today and prepare for tomorrow. A new president and vice-president were elected this year. The past-president of fifty years died last year, two months after the oyster dinner, and the vice-president is 96 years old and is not in good enough health to assume the role (he was given the honorary title of Chairman of the Board). The dinner this year was not easy for the old timers for the absences of these experienced officers was a not so gentle reminder of time and tradition.
Much of the Darrtown Stock Protective Association’s business meeting this year was focused on the Darrtown Cemetery. Reading the tombstones on a stroll through Darrtown’s beautifully manicured cemetery is a rich ethnographic history of “old” Darrtown families. These symbols of life and announcements of death state who and when someone resided in Darrtown. Occasionally you might read a final thought about or by someone providing words of love or advice to those of us who take time to walk by and read the chosen words.
You might read the weathered tombstones names “Teckman,” “Hansel,” “Mee,” “Alston,” “McVicker,” and “Darr” when reading the epitaphs of early families who contributed to the community in size and commitment. Not too may of these families have children who live in Darrtown today -they have moved away to seek their own fame and fortune, but there will be a day when they will return and join their families at “home” in rest and in peace. The manicured, peaceful beauty of this old cemetery symbolizes the love and respect that the old caretaker has for his present Darrtown home; he knows it will also be his future home.
The “old timers” in the Darrtown Stock Protective Association know this, too, and that is why they voted to provide money to plant new trees as the older ones die (just as they are adding younger members to the organization). They also gave money to plant flowers and brushes around a large boulder they gave to the cemetery to celebrate their 100th birthday, two years ago. A final cemetery contribution from the association this year was a plaque to commemorate their long term president, R. Kirk Mee II’s, dedication to Darrtown, the organization, and the cemetery. This plaque will be placed on either the celebrated boulder or a much needed new flag pole. The Darrtown Stock Protection Association no longer has chicken, cattle, or horse stock to protect. The stock they now protect is themselves, their families, their community, and their history.
Fading with time and death is Darrtown’s insignificant, yet significant, history. Today’s transient community members are involved in “getting through the day.” They might not be concerned with how, when and why Conrad Darr with Robert and William Ogle purchased this patch of land in 1802 and created a community. Conrad laid out the community naming it after himself, engaging himself in a process of naming communities practiced globally. This history of their new found home is not why they chose their location; other factors influenced their decision to move to Darrtown.
Day after day, hour after hour, car after car, truck after truck drive up or down the highway through Darrtown, but rarely does anyone stop; there is not a stop sign or traffic light to even engage a traveler in a momentary visit. Maybe a thirsty driver will stop and buy a soda at Don’s Grocery store or a beer from The Hitching Post. An old one-pump gas station, which was once was owned by the new Chairman of the Board of the Darrtown Stock Protection Association and was the daily meeting place for the “old timers" might draw a customer to fill a near empty gas tank or ask directions to someplace else.
There really isn’t much happening in this little “blink of an eye and you’d miss it” community. Not much, but a little life and a little death; not much but some laughter and some tears; not much but a little history being forgotten and a little being made.
Recollections of Cynthia Mee
The following narrative was written and contributed by Cynthia Mee, circa 2012.
