In July, 1994, I was in attendance at a safety conference in Columbus that proved extremely tedious. I decided to take leave for the day and drive down to Logan and the old Sudlow farm near Union Furnace in the Hocking Hills of Ohio. My great-uncle Clifford was the last person to live on the farm; he died forty four years ago in 1950. And, since approximately twenty five years has passed since I had been there with my parents, Paul and Eva Sudlow, and my younger brother, Ed (named after our great-uncle Edward Sudlow who grew up on that farm) I was not sure I could locate anything by memory anymore, especially since everything is now so overgrown. I certainly was not prepared for the surprises that I would find that day! As I drove south of Union Furnace on Ohio's State Route 328, I began looking for the turn-off to the west that I remembered as being a very rugged drive up the Sudlow-Lee Road. Because I was unfamiliar with the area, I took a wrong turn and went up the Washburn Road. As I realized my mistake and turned around in a driveway, an older gentleman there offered his assistance. When I introduced myself as John Sudlow, he instantly recognized my last name and within a minute had a plat map out on his picnic table to show me where I wanted to be. He also mentioned that I may want to talk with some of the Carters who live near the old Sudlow farm and have been established residents of the area. Was it possible that I might find someone that day who actually knew one or more of my ancestors? Beulah Carter was the closest neighbor and has been living next door to the farm for seventy eight years. Buelah was at home that afternoon entertaining Bob Carter (not a relative) from the nearby town of Starr and his wife, Charlene. I arrived on Beulah's doorstep unannounced and introduced myself as John Sudlow, grandson of Reverend John Harvey Sudlow who had grown up on the old Sudlow farm next door and great-grandson of Francis Marion and Elizabeth Jane (Goodwin) Sudlow. As I continued my introduction in a feeble attempt to justify my intrusion, Beulah's smile grew larger and her eyes sparkled. I had struck gold! She promptly invited me into her home to relate stories of the past. I first told Beulah how I came to find out about her while trying to locate the Sudlow-Lee Road. She responded that maps referred to the road by that name, but people around there still call it Cliffie's Lane (even after more than forty years). And yes, she knew my grandfather, John; my great-uncles Clifford, Edward, and Clyde; and my great-aunts Zada, Florence, Lovina, and Vernie. She even remembered my great-grandmother, Emily Jane Sudlow. My great grandfather, Francis Marion, died about the time she was born, so had little to relate about him. She recounted eating meals at the farmhouse, no doubt at the kitchen table from the farm that I now have in my house in Oakwood, Illinois. But it was Cliffie who she ? other of the family. As they were life-long neighbors, they got to know each other very well. The first thing she relayed about Uncle Cliffie was that he was extremely frugal ("cheap" might have been her descriptive word). I though it interesting because the few stories that I had heard from relatives about Uncle Cliffie, his thrifty nature was almost always his first trait they mentioned. She continued by describing how Cliffie would invariably wait until the coldest, windiest day of winter before hiking over the hill to the Carter farm to ask Beulah's husband, James (now deceased), to haul hay for his animals. Cliffie never seemed to need hay when the weather was good, nor did he pay for the hay upon delivery. He did, eventually, pay his debts but never carried any cash when striking a deal. He always settled his accounts at a later time, and then, never took a penny more with him than what was owed. Most farmers would barter with the owner of the general store in Union Furnace, trading eggs, milk, cream, garden goods, etc. for sugar, flour, cloth, nails, tools, and other "imported" goods not native to the valley. Most farmers would have to take some cash to supplement their trade goods to purchase their needed supplies. Cliffie, on the other hand, could take only his goods to market and come home with his supplies and some extra cash that the storekeeper paid to Cliffie for the surplus. As a result, rumors developed that Cliffie had a lot of money hidden away at the farm. It may be because of this rumor that Uncle Cliffie always slept [with his] Richardson Model 922 nine shot .22 caliber rimfire revolver. I now have Cliffie's revolver at home. He obviously took good care of it as it is still in nearly perfect condition. [The] locals knew to steer clear when George Clifford Sudlow was on the road in his 193? Chevy. The jog in the road under the railroad underpass at the south edge of Union Furnace was a blind, double corner, single lane affair. Drivers had to be extremely cautious at the jog because if two cars entered from opposing directions simultaneously, one of them would have to back up to let the other through. Cliffie, however, would just lay on the horn and keep his foot on the feed, letting everyone else look out for him. And out of necessity, I think, they did! The example that Beulah illustrated involved a man in a car who was stranded on Route 328 with a dead battery. Cliffie offered to pull-start the man's car to get it running again by towing it with a chain. After they hooked the two cars together, Cliffie began pulling the other man down the road, but evidently could not get the car to start right away. Eventually, the towed car began careening off of the guard rails, through ditches, and even hit the abutment under the railway overpass on the south edge of town, but Cliffie didn't stop pulling. When they arrived in Union Furnace the other car had still failed to start. Cliffie got out of his car, but the other man did not get out of his. Uncle Cliffie went back to the towed car to find that the man had died at the wheel in route to Union Furnace. Beulah stated that it must have really scared Uncle Cliffie, because he talked about that incident for years. "I'm not sure he really ever did get over that one," she said. At one point during the conversation, Beulah, Bob and Charlene commented on how much I resembled the Sudlows. Imagine that! Uncle Cliffie never converted to mechanized farming as was the trend during the thirties and forties. He used �real� horsepower to raise the crop. It seems unusual to me that, as a farmer, Cliffie did own a car but not a truck. If he sold a pig or two, he would have to take them to market in his car. Beulah told me on one occasion, Cliffie planned to sell several pigs and couldn't get them all into his car for the trip. He asked Mr. Carter to drive the pigs to market in James' truck. Cliffie, James, and James' young son all drove to town where Cliffie purportedly received a good price for his hogs. Much unlike Cliffie's usual nature, he splurged and bought a large bag of cookies at the sale barn. To this day, Beulah's son remembers Cliffie eating every single cookie on the ride home, never offering to share...even after James had hauled Cliffie's hogs to market for free. Uncle Cliffie never married and lived alone on the farm with his animals. Although Cliffie had no qualms about butchering animals[?] [My dad spent] quite a bit of time on the farm with Uncle Cliffie when he was a boy and wrote extensively about his experiences there [Cliffe liked cats and dogs and had] several around to keep him company. In his later years, Beulah said his dogs and cats were allowed inside the house, and even a lamb or two stayed in the kitchen on occasion. [Beulah asked me to wait as she went to another] room. When she returned, she was carrying a beautiful, delicately painted, filigreed fruit bowl. She told me that it had belonged to my great-grandmother, Emily Jane. She then went on to tell me how she acquired it after Cliffie died. Cliffie was sixty six years of age when he passed away in 1950. When the Sudlows gathered at the farmhouse prior to his funeral, there was concern that someone might take advantage of the family's absence and break into the house while everyone was at the funeral, so they asked Beulah and James to stay at the farm while they were in Logan. After they returned, the family gave Emily Jane's fruit bowl to the Carters as a token of their appreciation. Beulah has promised the bowl to her oldest son, as he will be the only one left in her family that remembers Cliffie. Beulah said that within a matter of a couple of months, vandals pulled nearly every piece of woodwork from the walls in the house and pried up every step looking for the secret hiding place of Cliffie's money. "In retrospect," she said, "I'm not sure he even had any." It is interesting to speculate, though, as to whether [he did for] sure. With that story, we concluded our visit for the day. It seemed like only minutes had passed since my afternoon arrival, but the sun had departed hours before. I had driven to Union Furnace just for the fun of going, expecting to find little, if anything, there. I never anticipated meeting Beulah or listening to stories about Homer Rodehaver (and that is another lengthy, but very interesting one) my great1grandparents, great-uncles and aunts, the Mitchells, and life in the Hocking Hills. Beulah even referred to my cousin, Bob Alexander, as an old skunk! Words cannot express my appreciation for the time she, Bob, and Charlene spent with me that July day. Seek and ye shall find. You just don't always know what you will find until you go looking...and do it while you still can. I never made it to the old farmhouse. That would have to wait until the next trip when my wife, Elizabeth, and I stopped there again in August, 1994. [This appeared at the end of the letter, maybe someday John will bless us with the photo that goes with it] Back row: Zada, John, Clyde, Emma (Clyde's wife), Clifford, Lovina, and Edward Front row: Florence, Francis Marion, Emily Jane (his wife), ?? Third row: Dorothy Mitchell, Oswald (on Vernie's lap), ?? 1994 John Sudlow Return to the index |