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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It was sometime in the summer of 1929 when my sister, Maryann, was about six years old. She had a friend named Martha Elliott, who lived a few houses west of ours, in the big white house at the corner of Buckeye and West Fifth Streets.
Martha was an inquisitive little girl, and she was always looking for something new and exciting to do. On this day, those two little girls were playing in the lawn of the Union County Courthouse. Then they walked to the World War I cannon in that lawn, and they began to climb on it. Young boys often climbed on the cannon. Seldom, however, did you see girls climbing on it. But Martha and my sister climbed all over the big gun.
Then the two girls walked to an iron bench on the sidewalk along Court Street. The bench was directly across the street from the old Faulkner Funeral Home, a red brick building at 110 South Court Street directly behind what is now McCarthy and Cox.
They sat on the bench and talked about the kind of things that little girls talk about. Then Martha told Maryann that her father, Amer Elliott, was going to the funeral home that night. A friend of his had died, and he was going to “pay his respects.” My sister didn’t know what that meant, so Martha explained that the deceased was now lying in the funeral home, and his friends could visit him to say “Goodbye.”
The two little girls sat there and continued talking. Then, after a pause, Martha looked at my sister and asked, “Have you ever seen a dead man?” My sister shook her head “no,” and Martha replied, “Neither have I.” They sat there in silence for a bit, and then Martha said, “Let’s go over there and look at him.”
Oh man, there was no way my sister could do that. It would be too scary, but Martha told her that the two of them could hold hands, and do it together. After thinking about it for a while, the two walked, hand in hand across the street and up the steps to the door of the funeral home. They opened the door slowly and stepped inside.
There were rows of folding chairs on each side of a center aisle. The room was dimly lit, but they could see the casket in the front of the room. No one was in the room except the deceased and the two girls. There was no music or anything like that … just a deathly silence.
The girls joined hands again and began walking slowly down the aisle. When they got to the front of the room, just a few feet from the casket, they stopped. Both of them looked at the man lying in front of them, and neither said a word. Then Martha whispered, “He looks like he’s asleep.” She looked at my sister and said, “Let’s touch him, and see if he moves.”
Oh boy, that spooked my sister. She took a step or two back and stood there with her hands over her eyes. Martha said, “I’m going to touch him right now.”
That’s when my sister let out a kind of gasp, turned around and began running back up the aisle. That must have unnerved Martha, for she was quick to follow in Maryann’s footsteps.
Both ran out the front door and down the steps. They ran across Court Street to a bench near the cannon. They sat there awhile to catch their breath, and then they started talking about the day’s adventurers.
A few minutes later, the two of them headed for home. They walked up Fifth Street, arm in arm, as they relived the day. It had been a good day, full of adventure and new experiences. And they wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at bill@davidwboyd.com