Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I'm not sure how my mother decided which myriad of older church members I was going to stay with on their date nights, but fortunately, Mary Dean was one of those church members. She lived very close to our house on Beach Drive on Pine Lane in Monticello, Indiana. Her house was newer than ours, ranch style. And I loved her bathroom! She had a shower in tub with glass shower doors that I thought were beautiful. This is probably why when I moved into my first home, I had my first husband install them. MISTAKE! Do not put glass shower doors on your tub! They are so difficult to clean. Also in her bathroom was a vanity chair. It was all so fancy.

I'm not sure how much I stayed with her, but I remember sitting on her living room floor, playing pick-up sticks with her or typing on her typewriter. I've always loved typing. We didn't watch TV. In hindsight, she may have sat at her kitchen table grading papers. I didn't realize she was a schoolteacher at the elementary school where I attended. She retired in 1968 after the death of her husband, Glen, who was also a schoolteacher. I was 7. Apparently, according to my childhood friend, Linda, Mary continued to substitute teach in the same school system.

She was always kind to me, and she was always gracious when I stayed with her. She had a guest bedroom that was reserved just for me. Outside of the bedroom window, I could see the Burger King lighted sign. I would watch out that window, waiting for the light to switch off. That's how I knew it was 10 pm, which meant it was time to go to sleep. I never had trouble sleeping at her house. I don't remember what it was like to wake up at her house, though. I can imagine that she welcomed the new day and me, perhaps having breakfast ready? I just can't remember.

Once when we were together on a Friday night, we went to a restaurant that had all you can eat fried chicken. I ate all that I could eat and then some. She never shamed me for being too heavy or for eating too much. When we got into her car, I told her I could go back in now and eat some more. She told me that she could, too! I also remember eating with her at a nice restaurant with tables and tablecloths. It may have been Angler's Restaurant.

Mary Dean was born Mary Ann Poore in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were Frank and Anna Poore, and she was born in 1902! When I think of the people in my young life being born over 100 years ago is a bit lifechanging! Also thinking of all those wonderful people in my young life, I am finding a gratitude for those women that I've never felt before. When you're young, that's just your normal, right? How I wish I could go back and hug all those wonderful women! I will hug them for sure when we all get to heaven.

Reaching out on Facebook, hoping to find a few pictures since my father threw all my Monticello pictures away, in his dementia. God bless him. I didn't find any pictures, but I did find some comments. She apparently was a stern schoolteacher. She also - I had forgotten - had a birthmark that covered half of face. This was off-putting to some, unfortunately. How brave she must have been.

After remembering the birthmark, I wondered how much it affected her life. I did find at least one picture. Her senior picture. It is heartbreaking. The name of "Poore" at the bottom of her picture indicates her maiden name. Click on photos to enlarge

Mary Ann Dean nee Poore attended Ball State Teachers College and graduated from there with a master's degree in elementary education. Her husband, Glen, also graduated from there. I imagine this is where they met. They settled in Kokomo, Indiana, where they both taught public school. I don't know why they moved to Monticello, but I would think it was because they were offered good jobs there. They lived a modest life, to be sure, but it doesn't seem they wanted for anything. They attended church faithfully.

Death doesn't bother me. It never has. And I wonder if it's because I grew up with it. We had many funerals at the church growing up, and the bodies would be delivered sometimes the day before. And I was there with the bodies, and it was the normal. To that end, when Mrs. Dean's husband, Glen, died in 1968, his embalmed body was delivered to the church. The next day, at the funeral, the only thing I remember was watching Mrs. Dean walk up the church sidewalk to the doors. She was stoic. And it left me wandering, how was she feeling right then?

After Mr. Dean died, Mrs. Dean and my father put their heads together, brainstorming of what to do with the church building during the week. Dad didn't think the church building should ever be empty, except maybe at night - maybe. They settled on starting a day care center. Mrs. Dean volunteered her time every day, every week, and worked to build the day care center. The endeavor was successful, and the day care center served many children over the years. 

You know what makes me so angry at myself is not keeping in touch with these wonderful people. And I'm angry that I didn't rescue my pictures. I thought they were safe in my father's care. When I realized he had thrown the pictures of the day care center away, I became a little more intentional on getting whatever pictures he had left into my possession. I didn't want to upset him by taking what he perceived to be his things.

I did also find a small box of slides that I was able to make into jpegs. In this picture, Mary Dean may be the woman on the right, but I can't blow the photo up close enough to see if that's her birthmark or a blemish in the picture. Many of the slides were in such bad shape with many blemishes.

After the day care was up and running successfully by itself, Mrs. Dean retired and moved back to Kokomo. At the end, she was with her son, David, in Brazos County, Texas.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

The Joe Schnepp Family of Monticello, IN

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

The Joe Schnepp Family
__________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I don't remember when the Joe and Jeanette Schnepp Family began attending First Baptist Church of Monticello, Indiana. It feels like they just were always there. Joe and Jeanette were at the church a lot, and I know my dad thought the world of them. I don't remember their roles exactly, but I see in Jeanette's obit, she sang in the choir. She and I shared the same birthday, and I think she may have sent me a card every year. I'm not sure, but when I saw on Ancestry that we shared a birthday, it felt she was proud of it or at least thought it was neat.

I learned early that the two boys they were rearing, Mike and John, were their nephews. I'll not repeat the story I was always told as to why, because I don't know if the reason is true or if I even am remembering it correctly. But Mike and John indeed lived with their Uncle Joe and Aunt Jeanette, and so, they attended my dad's church. I didn't know what to do with this. I couldn't figure out if they were my friends or were just being nice to me because they had to be.

I was as boy crazy as any other little girl, but mine was terribly unhealthy. I was so obsessed with David Cassidy, it was ridiculous. And so, I also wondered if either Mike or John could become my crushes. Mike did give me a ring once at church, and I was proud of it. But my dad saw it and told me I had to give it back. Instead of going to Mike and telling him "My dad says I have to give the ring back, I'm sorry," like a normal person, I yelled at him and threw the ring at him. So much for having crushes.

Mike and John's grandmother lived really close to our house, just off North Main Street. She ran a yard sale everyday and had a big sign that you could see from Main Street that said "RUMMAGE." I only remember being there one time, but I'm sure it was many more times than just once. But in this memory, she had an orange clear plastic piano for sale. It was small, and I liked anything that had to do with the piano. There was only one problem. This particular piece actually was a cigarette holder. So, because it was a cigarette holder, their grandmother wouldn't let me buy it. Such was the constant supervision I lived with growing up as Rev. Howard's daughter.

Once when at their grandmother's, John asked me if I wanted to know how to lose ten ugly pounds. Being chubby, I definitely wanted to know! The punch line was "Cut off your head." Little boys telling dad jokes. Click on photos to enlarge

L to R: Janet and Rose Geier, ?, Mike Schnepp, maybe Leo Price,
Greg Timm, Cindy VanMeter, me, ?, John Schnepp, Peggy Shine
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Something that I've never understood was how my parents were okay with me spending an afternoon with Joe's sister, Ethel. I was never allowed really to go much of anywhere, but yet, they let Ethel take me home to Idaville, Indiana one day. I think it might have been after church. The reason I question it, even today, is that she was estranged from her husband, and she was afraid of him. Or at least, she made me afraid of him. She was continually looking over her shoulder that day, on the lookout. I only remember two other things from that day. The first was that we stopped at a gas station so she could put gas in her car. At that point in history, there was such a thing called Ethyl gasoline. She told me at the station that I could always remember her name by thinking of Ethyl gasoline. The last thing I remember from that afternoon is that she taught me to play a card game called Crazy Eights. It may be this experience that gave me a love for card playing. A love I no longer have as an adult.

L to R front row: Debbie Sproles, John Schnepp
I unfortunately don't remember the other three
The teacher, though, (in blue) didn't like me
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Mike and John's uncle, Uncle Joe, drove a school bus for the Twin Lakes School Corporation. I walked to school at Woodlawn Elementary, because it was 5 minutes from my house. When I hit 6th grade, I, like most of the other 6th graders were shuffled off to Meadowlawn Elementary. It was a good system, for the 6th graders had their own wing in this school and were kept separate from the others.

Even though Meadowlawn was on the other side of town, I walked and/or biked to and from school whenever I could. Otherwise, I would ride the bus. I'd walk to Woodlawn to catch bus #6 driven by Uncle Joe Schnepp. He was a good bus driver, very kind to the students.

L to R: My dad, me, two visitors, and Mike Schnepp
I was mad at Dad, the reason for my face
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

I don't remember when, but I do remember that Joe and Jeanette built a new house in an area called Norway. We visited several times as they were building. I don't remember the floor plan, but I do remember having a church Halloween party there. Funny thing about my dad being reared Pilgrim Holiness. we always had Halloween parties growing up. I don't know what the Pilgrim Holiness beliefs are as to Halloween, but I wouldn't think they'd see it in a positive light. This particular party wasn't the church-wide Halloween party but was just for those in the youth group. I made one of the attendants upset. I identified her when I arrived by saying hi to her and calling her by name, thusly ruining the "guess who this is" game. She didn't talk to me for a while after that. We also dunked for apples, and I was terrible at this. I didn't like having my head under water, for one thing. Can you imagine a bunch of kids sticking their head in the same container of water, all of them with mouths open, spit coming out in droves. Post-pandemic I wonder if any of us got sick after such a spectacle? How did we survive?

The two trees in front of the church
I loved those trees and took this picture hoping
I'd never forget them

When we left Monticello in 1977, I clung onto everyone as hard as I could. To that end, I had all my friends at First Baptist Church sign my bible, much like you would have someone sign your yearbook. I was clinging to what I had, knowing I was going to be a terrible situation once to Evansville, I was hoping against all hope that I could take something from Monticello with me to Evansville that would get me through. But the old saying is true. You can't go home again. Once we turned our backs on Monticello, it was over.

Me in front of the moving van
I had by this time lost the weight
I look happy, but I wasn't

The bible that everyone signed has long been missing,  I still remember what John Schnepp wrote in it though.  In his usual humor, he wrote, "don't forget to breathe." Sage advice for any generation. On a brighter note, it did all work out, in the end.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Dad's Best Friend, Bill Kretchmar

Growing Up with a Preacher Man 

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Dad's Best Friend, Bill Kretchmar (1920-2006)

____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

As a child, I didn't understand the dynamic a lot of relationships, especially when it came to my dad. You see, Dad didn't have friends. He, as a pastor, felt he couldn't really have "friends" per se, because he was a pastor. Growing up with Dad, even as a child, I witnessed his mental health struggles. I always thought it would be good for Dad to have a best friend. He did have one, though; he just didn't label Bill as his best friend. Because he was a pastor, and he felt he couldn't have friends.

Bill, along with his wife and family, were hometown treasures of our little resort town of Monticello, Indiana. The Kretchmars owned "The Frosty Mug" drive-in where root beer flowed freely into frosty mugs, and it was good root beer, too. It's never really been my thing, but something was different about the root beer at The Frosty Mug!

Frosty Mug was started in 1954 by Bill Kretchmar and his father-in-law, Louis Barton. I don't know why the Bartons and the Kretchmars decided to move from Hammond, Indiana to Monticello around the time they started the restaurant. I never wondered about that. Ever. Until now. Isn't it funny the things we take for granted? Especially as children. But they did move to Monticello, and I'm ever so grateful to have known them.

Perhaps their move had something to do with the First Baptist Church of Monticello, which was started about the same time as the restaurant. Click on photos to enlarge

1963 letter from Bill to my dad
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

As I said in a previous blog post, it feels like I remember meeting Bill and Ruth when I was 2 years old. They were showing us the house we were going to move into on Beach Drive in Monticello. A more probable memory, however, is when we would visit Frosty Mug. I don't think we did it very often, because my father was a very proud man, and our food was always free. But, oh, those tenderloin sandwiches. So good. I was intrigued by the drive-in, and it was fun to eat in the car. Why? Because I was a child, I guess, and I was getting my very own tenderloin sandwich. Bill would serve us himself!

We were with the Kretchmars a lot. I remember that their house on the east side of Monticello, Indiana, had a laundry chute. That was so cool. I couldn't find this home's address using Ancestry, but I was pretty sure I could remember where it was. Sixty years ago, this house was spectacular.

Bill & Ruth's first Monticello home
Courtesy Google Maps
Proper attribution given

When Dad first came to Monticello to be the pastor of the First Baptist Church, they were meeting in a little storefront close to Bill & Ruth's home, on the east side of Monticello. Bill was the "moderator" in the church service, so he sat in the front of the church with Dad, facing the people. He led the congregational singing as well and sang special music quite a bit. More than once, he sang "His Eye Is on the Sparrow," moving my dad to tears every. single. time.

Front row: Dad, me, Mom,
maybe Wanda King, Mrs. Geier.
Loucille Cole is in this one as well.
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

The church soon moved to its brand-new home on Beach Drive and the Kretchmars moved to 5461 E. Fairbanks Court. Google Maps does not have street view for this home, but you can see it is on the banks of the Tippecanoe River. It is also very close to the Indiana Beach amusement park.

Bill & Ruth's dream home
Monticello, IN
Google Maps with proper attribution

I remember this home well. In this home, Ruth would make "purple cows" for us, which I believe I always declined. There was a Hammond organ, or something like a Hammond organ, and over it was a beautiful family picture of Bill and Ruth with their children and with Ruth's mother. The second story overlooked the Tippecanoe so beautifully. And that living area was all glassed in, so you could see for miles around.

We would visit every July 4th, and I would watch the fireworks on their upper deck. I watched them by myself, which, watching them by yourself as a child is pretty boring. My parents would be inside the home with the Kretchmars, talking about who knows what. Grown up stuff like the restaurant business or the church business.

Something else I remember is that Ruth was always dressed to the nines with perfect make-up and hair. By her vanity, affixed to the wall, was a print of a painting. It was one of those where you can see two different things. One view was a beautiful woman sitting at her vanity looking at herself in the mirror. The other view was that of a skeleton head, and the caption "All Is Vanity." It spoke volumes to me as a young girl growing up in a legalistic household. Cosmetics were bad. Looking nice was bad. That's unfortunately what I took away from the picture, thanks to my filters. I wonder, though, what the sketch meant for Ruth.

"All Is Vanity"
By Charles Allan Gilbert
Fair Use

L to R; Ruth Kretchmar, Sharon Tolley, Edie Miller
Howard Family Collection

When I was young, a singing group from Pomona, California, did a concert at our church. They were called The Overtones, and I was star struck. They were so good. And the after party? It was at Bill & Ruth's big house on the river. These are the things that were taken away from Mom and me when Dad moved us to Evansville. It was a huge deal to be on the "in" with people like Bill & Ruth Kretchmar. That party. It was amazing. And so much fun to party with all these cool cats!

The Overtones
Fair Use

Another fun memory that so many of us from Monticello have were the steamed cheeseburgers at The Frosty Mug. Once the day center was opened up at First Baptist, these steamed cheeseburgers were on their menu, as well! Someone even posted recently on Facebook the recipe.

After we moved to Evansville in 1977, Bill & Ruth came to see my parents. I know it was around Christmastime, because, as a musician, I used to play piano for a lot of Christmas parties. I was playing a party and then after that went to Mom and Dad's to see Bill and Ruth. This is crazy, because it was probably 11 p.m. Fast forward to present day, and I need to be home on the couch by 6:00.

They probably came many times to visit my parents, and I'm just smushing all their visits together into one. It's a five-hour drive from Evansville to Monticello, though, and it's not a fun drive, either.

Ruth Kretchmar, Me, Mom, Dad
at First American Baptist, Newburgh, IN
Howard Family Collection

Mom, Dad, Bill Kretchmar
at First American Baptist, Newburgh, IN
Howard Family Collection

Dad, Stephanie, Mom, Bill, and Me
at my parents table, 1997
Don't judge my hair lol
Howard Family Collection

The last memory to share is that of the monthly skating parties our church had. We rented a roller-skating rink in Logansport, Indiana every month on a Thursday. We would meet at the church and drive together in a caravan. I had a problem learning to skate, because I was afraid of falling. Poor Bill. He decided to teach me to skate, and it turned into a several month project. I knew he was tired of helping me, but he continued anyway, and I let him. I was afraid to let go of him. He would just kindly say "pretend you're like a sack of potatoes. Just a sack of potatoes." I'm sure he was relieved when I finally learned to roller skate on my own! Those were the days. We looked so forward to those skating parties, all of us, adults and children. We'd skate from about 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. And in the middle of the skate, we'd take a break to have devotions and prayer.

My dad was amazing in finding ways to share the gospel with the people he pastored, including the one who was secretly his best friend.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Loucille Craig Cole, My Very First Best Friend

Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Loucille Craig Cole, My Very First Best Friend (1904-2000)
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I don't know how old I was when I became aware of Loucille Cole, our nearest neighbor. She, of course, attended my dad's church, as she lived as close to it as we did. Click on photos to enlarge

Top Arrow: Loucille, Middle Arrow, Church
Bottom Arrow, Us
Courtesy of Google Maps
Proper attribution given

It may have been that my parents naturally chose her to be my sitter, whenever they wanted or needed to go out somewhere. Whatever the reason, I consider her to be my very first truly best friend.

An unexpected find from Dad's old slides!
Look at those cars in the parking lot
Loucille Cole
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Her house has since been torn down, but I remember it vividly. Below is a crude drawing of her floor plan, but you get the idea. She had 3 rooms in her home plus a very small bathroom. 

It was in the living room where we would watch TV together. She's the one who introduced me to The Doris Day Show and told me that "Que Sera, Sera" had been one of Day's biggest hits. We watched The Brady Bunch together. That's the only two shows I can remember watching with her.

I remember that she always made her bed. And I believe she had that metal dining table that so many households had in the 1960s. Her kitchen countertop against the wall, where you could look out the window, scrolled around at the front door, turning into three small shelves. I only remember two things on those shelves. One was a small, doll-sized bathtub that I had given her, which was full of rocks I thought were pretty. I had given them to her as a gift. The other was a pair of scissors. She always said, "Those were Joe's." Joe was her late husband.

Loucille is on the right
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Loucille Cole was born Loucille Craig 08 Mar 1904 in Quebec, Tennessee. That's more than I ever knew about her before. I don't know why she and Joe came to Monticello. Her husband was Joseph Lewis Cole, and he was born in 1882 in Tennessee. They were married in 1922. Joe was 40. Loucille was 18. As far as I know, they had no children. Joe was a laborer.

She would talk about Joe, not so much of him but of his things. Like the scissors were Joe's, or that she went to visit Joe's stone in Chalmers, Indiana. I was a child and that she was a widow had no bearing on anything I could relate with. She seemed happy; that's all that mattered.

She had four trees in her yard. She had a glorious weeping willow tree. And then she had three fruit trees: cherry, apple, and pear. She would let me pick as much fruit as I wanted, and I would take it home, and pretend to serve it in my pretend kitchen that was in my playroom in our walk-out basement. You would think that my favorite fruits are cherries, pears, and apples. Alas, they are not.

On one side of the parsonage where we lived, we had a gully where wild pokeweed grew. This might be one of the reasons I absolutely love pokeweed and upset my first husband when I planted some in our yard. I don't really know if this is Loucille's doing or not, but she would harvest our pokeweed and cook it up. This fascinated me as a child, but as an adult, I am not at all surprised that she would have been able to make a tasty treat from a so-called weed growing wild in our yard.

Pokeweed
Courtesy Pixabay

Loucille was patient, loving, kind, and compassionate, everything I Cor. 13 tells us to be. I don't remember her ever being upset with me, but she did lose patience with me once that I remember. Here's the story:

When I was in middle school - or Jr. High as it was called then in Monticello - we were required to take Physical Education (PE). I hated everything that had anything to do with PE. Firstly, we had to dress out in little blue one-piece outfits. I was overweight by this time, had a terrible opinion of myself and my body, and this little blue outfit did nothing to help my self-esteem. The worst part, though, was at the end. All of us girls had to strip down to nothing, parade in front of the PE teacher and her assistant to get to the shower, where we were all supposed to wash ourselves, parade back to the dressing area, still naked, wrapped in a towel, and get dressed in an area that felt no bigger than one square foot. It was ridiculous.

I asked about it once, because I felt it was wrong. I was told, to my consternation, that this was perfectly normal behavior between girls and women. Take that in for a second...

And so, I tried an experiment, and while Loucille was in the bathroom, I barged in. She very politely and kindly asked me to give her privacy. Such were the contradictions of my childhood. Needless to say, I haven't barged in on anyone else ever since.

Who doesn't love fried chicken? And Loucille made the best. I remember one time, sharing a meal with her in her kitchen - what a gift - I asked her if I could use my hands to eat. I'm not sure if it was chicken or if it were something else, but I remember her answer loudly and clearly, and still use the phrase to this day. She replied, "There's nobody here but us chickens." <3

Loucille didn't drive, but she worked at Bryan's Manufacturing, and some kind soul picked her up and brought her home every day after her shift. Bryan's Manufacturing was a big employer in Monticello, and I have no idea what was made there. She had retired by the time we left in 1977, but I'll never shake off the guilt of all those we left behind to search for that shiny star we thought we'd find in Evansville. Not that I didn't find shiny stars, because I did, but we left so abruptly. I don't even remember saying good-bye to her.

One last memory of Loucille is that when she came to see us, which was often, she would open our back screen door ever so slightly and say "Yoo-hoo!" We practically lived in our walk-out basement, and so she knew which door to open and say "Yoo-hoo!"

Loucille later moved to Logansport, I believe, to a niece's home. But I'm not sure. I'm just trying to remember what my parents told me years ago. Loucille died in 2000 at the age of 96.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Building the Church Building in Monticello, IN

Growing Up with a Preacher Man 

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Building the Church Building
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

When we lived in Monticello, I took a lot of pictures. When I first got married, I entrusted those photographs to my parents, who had a much bigger space than I had in my tiny apartment. My pictures ended up in a box with a bunch of other pictures kept in my mother's bottom dresser drawer. I didn't take the pictures to my home when I bought a house, because I thought they were safe in that bottom drawer. They weren't. They're gone now. All gone. I have no idea where they are, and it is a regret. Because one, they were my pictures but two, I should have retrieved them years ago, and I just didn't do it. And now I'm trying to blog about my father's life and have very few pictures to jog my memory.

We moved to Monticello in 1963 and the cornerstone of the church states it was built in 1966, so my father wasted no time in his mission. The church hired an architect to design the church, but it was built largely from sweat equity from the members and by my father. It was a beautiful space, and we were very proud of it, rightly so. The only thing is that they didn't put in air conditioning, because in 1966, it wasn't as hot as it is now. The church had a "whole house" fan and we also had one in our house, next door to the church. During the summer, we would open all the windows and let the whole-house fan run, and it was just fine.

As an aside, it was pretty dark back there, living off the road like we did. So dad put up a dusk-to-dawn light that was visible from the piano room window. That light gave me such comfort. Click on photos to enlarge

The church building itself was beautiful red brick with stained glass windows. The wooden arches in the sanctuary were gorgeous, and the fellowship hall was fitted with portable wall dividers so that it could be converted into Sunday school classrooms. A switch on the wall rang a bell that let everyone know when Sunday school was over. Howard Shine was the ringer of that bell every Sunday without fail. The only thing were those ball lights in the sanctuary. I had nightmares over those things!

The Fellowship Hall
with its dividers

I felt so at home in that building. Not only was my house my home, but the church building was an extension of that home. I remember playing a new Partridge Family album nonstop in the foyer one winter day, when school was out for Christmas. The information booklets that most churches keep for their parishioners to buy/borrow was also on a table inside that foyer. "Good News for Modern Man" and "My Heart, Christ's Home," were two examples.

My father valued privacy/modesty almost above all else, and so the restrooms had a barrier in the hallway to shield their entrance. This was his invention. He had the restrooms put in as far away from the sanctuary as possible, and the nursery was also across from these restrooms. Everything about that building was perfect and perfectly placed. Even though small, we had plenty of room for every activity.

The building always welcomed me and was never judgmental, even when my weight started to creep up, and I started to get bullied at school. I was bullied at the school, but not at the church. As a child, I didn't understand the link between weight and food, and our house was filled with chocolate cereal, donuts, chips, and other unhealthy foods. Additionally, I needed my teeth fixed, which never happened, and I still have trouble pronouncing "s" (even though I had my two front teeth fixed after my first marriage, but they could use a bit more help.) I had to take remedial speech in grade school when what I really needed was just my teeth fixed.

Under my father's ministry and guidance, that building became a home for many of us, though, not just me. And it was BUSY. Many activities went on inside and outside that church building, and we all felt like a family, because we were!

My father certainly had a win with this church. In his later life, he wished he would have stayed in Monticello and retired from there. This would have been good for my mom as well. But we had a wonderful 14 years here and I'll take it!

Pictures are from the Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Our Arrival at Monticello, IN - 1963

Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Our Arrival at Monticello, IN - 1963
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

My first memory, whether planted or real, was on moving day, 1963. I was 2 years old. The memory I have is clutching my black velvet purse and probably my doll, Billy, who had apparently been given to me as a gift. Billy was a Madame Alexander knock-off, and she was my best friend. I was closer to that doll than to anyone else. In this memory, I was walking on a sidewalk, heading toward our car. We didn't have car seats in 1963 or seatbelts in the back seat. I made it out alive, though.

The second memory, whether planted or real, is that of Bill and Ruth Kretchmar showing us around the house we were going to move into. It was located on Beach Drive in Monticello, Indiana.  My father had taken the position there as pastor for the American Baptist Church in this small resort town. The church had been started about five years prior, and they were meeting in a store front on the east side of Monticello. My father's mission, and he accepted it, was to build a church there on Beach Drive that would become The First American Baptist Church of Monticello.

I don't remember anything else after that until they were ready to begin preparations for building the church. The first project was moving our house back from the street to make room for the church and its parking lot. My only memory was of Moving Day. This was in 1965. I was 4 years old. I was crying - bawling - looking for perhaps my mother. I don't know what was wrong, but I'm sure I was clutching Billy. It might have been Mr. Mann who found me. Someone who wasn't my mother calmed me that day. Click on photos to enlarge

Moving that house was genius. My father was very good at building things. He and the church members built a basement that the house would stand on. This made our house huge. One of the additional rooms added - that would eventually become my bedroom when I got older - was big enough for a bed, desk, chest of drawers, dresser, perfume table, cedar chest, and a rocking chair. Even with all that, there was still plenty of room for me to sit on the floor and play cards - an activity that got me through the stress of being "Rev. Howard's daughter". But... I'm getting ahead of myself here!

After moving day, our house also had enough room for a playroom for me and a huge bedroom for my brother. We had a shower room and laundry room in the basement. We also had a living room in the basement with dark wood paneling. In the evenings, when the sun was setting and the wind was blowing through our many trees, it would shine into the window, casting moving shadows onto the wood paneling. To make things even better, someone had put a plastic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the sill.

Mom sitting in our green chair in the downstairs living room
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

The rest of the walk-out basement contained a huge kitchen and dining room with cabinets all around. And a pantry! Upstairs were three bedrooms, a piano room for me, a full bathroom, my mother's beauty shop and a formal living room. I always remembered that this house was one of those with two front doors. The first front door allowed visitors into the formal living room without letting them into the rest of the house. So the house could be a mess, except for the formal living room, and visitors would never know it was a mess! But our house was never a mess. My mother kept it tidy and clean, almost obsessively so. As for the memory of the two front doors, it is a false memory. Clearly the pictures above show just one front door.

We also had a large attic that had a real walkable floor - probably installed by my handyman father. And it was tall enough to stand in. This was my dad's space that he called his "study". He kept all his books there and, looking back, all his mess. I have been told that men like to have all their stuff out where they can see it. In this space, my father could have all his stuff out. His papers, his booklets, his books, his brochures, and his pictures. A plus for me, there was a small roof outside the attic where I could sunbathe and no one could see me. I don't remember if my mother ever went up to the attic to clean or otherwise, but I don't think she did.

My mom in the back of our big house
Notice the windows above in the attic
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

We lived on 7 acres of land PLUS behind the home was a large, wooded area and behind that, the old, huge Monticello City Cemetery. It was heaven living on that property. I would spend most of my time in the woods and in that cemetery. It is probably why I became a genealogist. I would walk through the cemetery and study the stones and wonder what their stories were. I still do that today.

I lived in Monticello with my family for 14 years and enjoyed all the pleasures of living in a resort town that featured twin lakes - Lake Shafer and Lake Freeman. It was here that I experienced so much pain and suffering, joy and sorrow, fun and happiness. My experiences here, growing up as a preacher's kid, gave shape to my entire life. That life in the end is very happy and satisfying and fun. But it took a while to get there.

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