My Surprise, Only Four, and Radio was Rapid

My Surprise, Only Four and Radio Was Rapid

January 1, 1966

Written by Charles Collett

Submitted by: Robert Kingrey

My surprise phone call on News Year’s Eve was from my long time friend Tom Hudson, who says he is on the mend slowly. Tom has been under the care of doctor’s and nurse’s for a long time and more recently his vision has kept him shut in. I first knew Tom when he was a student at Notre Dame and played baseball during summer vacation with the Ironton Nailers.

At the time of WWI he and the late Charles Wagner of Hanging Rock were the Ironton-Russell Motors at Second and Adams Streets, the first Chevrolet agency in town. Tom gave the good-looking bachelor girls a thrill ride in his speed roadster, a Jordan Playboy. Not one ever said “yes” and he’s still a bachelor. During WWII Tom kept Ironton cool as manager of the Crystal Ice Company. A more converted fan of idols of football is hard to find. He has been a subscriber of the South Bend daily newspaper since before Knute Rockne was coach, just so he could keep the boys at the Elks Club informed about the Four Horsemen and their successors.

Only Four

Old big Etna Furnace blew her last cast of pig iron May 1924 and four citizens who were working there at that time often met on Third at Park Avenue, while taking their daily hike. Art Anson, Bill Hunt, Joe Baker and Tom Sanders. George Mittendorf was a member of the office staff.

Radio Was Rapid

The closing of the Leggett Store leaves an old friend without employment after 15 years as a saleslady. Ann Linville’s first job was a linotype apprentice at the old Ironton News Office in 1922. She was quick to learn but was later transferred to proof reading. On Christmas 1922 her family got their first radio.

Anna was all enthused over hearing voices from KDKA, Pittsburgh. ” It was wonderful last night,” said Anna one morning when she reported for work. “We were listening to a man talking in Chicago and he said when the gong sounds it will be 9 o’clock, and we all looked at our clock and, by George, it was exactly 9 o’clock here in Ironton when he said it.”