Editor’s note: This is another column in Bill Boyd’s new series, “The Way It Was,” about growing up in Marysville. Bill continues to work with the Union County Historical Society to obtain information for his stories. With Marysville and Union County celebrating Bicentennial anniversaries in 2019 and 2020, respectively, these articles help depict what life was like in those early years.
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I was somewhere around 12 years old when I first met a boy named Tom McCracken. He was in high school, maybe 17 years old. He had what I thought was the best job a boy could have in Marysville. He drove an ice cream cart all over town, selling ice cream bars, popsicles and things like that.
The cart was owned by Clegg’s Dairy. It was originally designed to be pushed by hand, but it had been modified at some time. Instead of pushing it by hand, a bicycle was connected to the cart. So Tom pedaled the cart all over town, selling ice cream treats to kids.
When I first saw the cart, I thought it was wonderful, and I rode my bike with Tom as he made his rounds. I thought that if I learned enough about Tom’s job, maybe I could get that job someday. So I spent a lot of time with Tom. In the process, the two of us became friends.
Then one day, as we were talking, Tom told me that he had gotten a car. That wasn’t unusual during the 1940s, when several high school boys had cars. Most of them were old Model T Fords. But Tom said his car was newer. He said it needed some work, and he was doing that work himself in his garage at home. He said I should stop by and see it sometime.
My paper route went right by his house, so I stopped for a visit the next day. I found him working on the car in his garage. When I walked in and saw the car, I felt that it was like no car I had ever seen. It had no doors and no windows. I could see the steering wheel, the engine and the wheels. But it sure didn’t look like a car to me.
Tom explained that it had been in a bad accident and he had removed the car body and took it to the dump. He had taken the front seat out and was in the process of attaching it to the frame. In fact, he said he could use my help. He said I could hold the seat in place as he tightened the bolts. I did that, and then we both sat there as he told me more about the car.
Then he asked if I would like to take a ride in the car. Oh boy, I wouldn’t want to miss that. He said he couldn’t drive it on the streets because it had no headlights and no taillights. It didn’t even have license plates. But he said we could still take a ride on private property.
Tom lived on the east side of North Main Street, just north of Elwood Avenue. He backed the car out of the garage, and we cut across the Pearce sisters’ lawn and through their garden into a large grassy field where the Marysville Mobile Home Park is today.
The grass hadn’t been mowed, so it was about knee-high. I think it was probably the same grass that was planted years earlier when the MHS football field was located there.
We started out slowly, but as we left the Pearce garden we really took off. There were no seat belts, so Tom told me to hang on to the seat frame. I’m glad he told me that, because it got pretty bumpy as we went faster. In fact, it got really scary.
We had only gone about 50 yards when two pheasants took flight right in front of us. Actually we almost hit them. Tom drove the car all over the field as I held on tightly. Then on our last lap around the field, another pheasant flew right in front of us.
I knew that Union County was one of the best places in Ohio to hunt pheasants during the 1940s. But it was a surprise to see three pheasants within the city limits.
Tom drove the car back into his garage, and we sat there talking for a while. That was the last time I ever saw that car. I think he probably sold it to someone, but who would want to buy a car that couldn’t be driven on streets or highways? Maybe he sold it to a pheasant hunter.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at bill@davidwboyd.com