Showing posts with label Rockbridge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rockbridge. Show all posts

Saturday, April 3, 2021

To Our Boy

Charles H. Huls
The Huls and Troxel families were pioneers of Hocking County, so Charley's death reverberated about the county. While I cannot find at this time the original editorial in The Logan Republican, a religious newspaper called Our Hope published weekly by the Western Advent Christian Publication Association had this to say in its April 1, 1925 edition:        

        Many of our readers have met Brother and Sister Huls of Rockbridge, Ohio, and many others know them through the pages of "Our Hope." We published a picture of their beautiful home in the special issue of February 18th. Brother Huls' brother* conducts a newspaper in Logan, Ohio, whose son was taking a special course in the Ohio State University and a few months ago was one of the victims of the poison taken by mistake, regarding which newspapers had much to say. His father wrote an editorial appearing in his own paper entitled "To Our Boy," in which the father expresses his terrible grief and hopes blasted, for he had made much preparation to pass on his business to his boy, who was making special preparation for it. He also speaks of that fine Christian faith and trust that enables one to bear the griefs and disappointments of life.

        We take the liberty of passing on just a few paragraphs of this editorial to our readers and extend to the bereaved family and friends our deepest sympathy.

        He was the embodiment of confidence, not an empty confidence, but one born of his determination and ability to do things.

        It was this confidence largely that inspired the erection of our new building. The hard work, the big responsibility, the danger of going too far were all lightened by the thought that we would have the co-worker so abundantly endowed with the spirit of success.

        What a prospect for us all and what a tumbling down of prospects, his loss has caused.

        Without his comradship [sic], without his counsel, we must bear the burden alone, content to plod along the best we can without his inspiration, his confidence, his ability,

        But the greater loss is in the home. May we be pardoned for saying that not enough families are endowed with the spirit of comradeship that marked our home. Few pleasures were enjoyed that were not shared by all. We were comrades whether at home or away from home. That comradship [sic] is broken, the quartet has lost one of its members. Discord was almost a stranger in our home, and harmony, peaceful harmony, was always present. And while this thought at first seems to emphasize our grief, there is under the clouds a silver lining. Nothing to regret, no harsh words or actions to mar the recollection. It is a blessed memory.

        But even this hour of grief is brightened by the overwhelming sympathy of friends and neighbors and the wide circle of the friends of our boy. From the sunny south to the lakes and from points east and west come tributes of praise for the dead and words of comfort for the living. From the president of the college, his teachers and classmates, from dozens of fraternities and college societies, from friends and neighbors, come the letters, nearly a hundred of them, all breathing a spirit of comfort. As we write this a bunch of unopened letters lies in our desk.

        And the flowers, so symbolic of his short life, what a profusion of them. They were simply wonderful in their beauty and abundance. From sources unexpected came these mute tributes to our boy, these silent messages of consolation.

        Then there were the other flowers, not floral tributes, but the tributes from the hearts of kind neighbors and friends, who seemed so eager to lighten the burden and share the grief.

        The sweet influence of these roses of friendship will linger long in our memories, long after the natural flowers have lost their fragrance and scattered their petals. 

        May the Ruler of all give us strength to carry the load, and, in a measure, reach some of the ideals of our boy. May his example inspire within us a life worthy of the one we have loved and lost for a time, but not forever.

        There is a time coming when this sin-cursed earth will be made new, when such scenes as we are passing through will all be in the past, and where we can renew the companionship of those we have lost. Then and not until then will the heartaches be cured, broken ties reunited and true happiness restored.

                                        --A.E. Huls

        *I believe the newspaper got the family relationships incorrectly. Great-grandpa Gene's only brother lived in California where he died unexpectedly later that same year. I believe they are referring to Joseph W.  and Emma Frasure Huls. Joseph was Great-grandpa Gene's first cousin who married the sister of Gene's first wife, Mary Jennie Frasure Huls. They raised Gene's son Walter after Jenny either died in childbirth or shortly thereafter. She was buried with her baby. Joseph is also the man who built in Rockbridge a nearly identical version of the A.E. Huls house in Logan.

-30-

Tuesday, March 30, 2021

The printer's devil

A.E. Huls, Millville, Ohio
A. E. Huls was understandably upset. Not only was his son dead, but now his dead son's name was attached to a growing scandal.

My great-grandfather, Alpheus Eugene Huls, was born in 1866 after his father returned from the Civil War. A. E., or Gene, started his printing company (above) where he also published the Millville Tomahawk out of a tiny office in Millville (later Rockbridge) in 1883. To supplement his income he was issued one-year teaching certificates in 1885 and 1886. He eventually moved to Logan, Ohio where he published the Logan Republican and ran the Huls Printing Co.

Charley was born Dec. 13, 1902 in Logan, Ohio to Gene and Anna Rebecca Troxel Huls. He was Gene's first surviving child from his second marriage. Grandpa followed on Aug. 10, 1904. They, and their older half-brother Walter Harrison Huls, were groomed to become printers and newspaper publishers.

However, the boys had other plans. Walter became a life-long teacher and Grandpa was more interested in his erector sets and wanted to become an engineer. That left Charley, who thankfully wanted to follow in his father's footsteps.

Charley started as a printer's devil -- an apprentice in a printing establishment who performed a number of menial tasks, such as mixing tubs of ink and fetching type. Grandpa worked there too, but his heart wasn't in it.

After Charley graduated from Logan High School in 1921, he enrolled at Ohio State University in its Commerce and Journalism program, where he quickly became involved with the university newspaper and yearbook. Grandpa enrolled there as an engineering student the following year.

Neither got to follow their dreams.

-30-

Popular posts