My Valley
Other people who populated "My Valley" to be looked on as "Characters" include Dick Hall, Irishman cobbler whose little 9x12 shop, stuck up on a rock close beside the turnpike leading up the West Hill out of the Valley, not only served to hold a cobbler's bench and various other equipment of a shoemaker's trade, but, because Dick was a genial fellow, it furnished a place for all the Valley sitters who came to discuss current politics and the state of the nation generally. Here were nourished Dick's own special pets, some ten or twelve canary birds who hatched their eggs and reared their young despite the thick haze of tobacco smoke, the odor of old clothing and unwashed bodies, all lending a none-too-clean atmosphere. But the canaries continued to thrive, singing their songs and rearing their young, for Dick was a breeder as well as an admirer. He was a good hand with flowers too and had a tiny flower garden right beside his door. Dick was a bachelor and slept beside his leathers and his birds but ate his meals with one of the neighboring families.
At the opposite end of "My
Valley" lived John Daudt, another character, cobbler and shoemaker. John really
constructed boots and shoes. As his name indicates, he was a German, had learned his trade
in the old country and looked the part. He was of an artistic nature and took great pride
in his work. Regular customers had their own special lasts. I remember Uncle Howard's had
several layers of leather nailed on top of the instep to stimulate his own high arch of
which he was very proud
No loiterers lingered around here; "strictly business" was John's slogan. This shop was a real place of business and he himself hammered away from morning to night intent on making every minute count. Every penny was saved and supposedly stored away in a stout bag guarded by Mrs. Daudt who came out of the kitchen to make change for those who insisted on paying their bills. She, like her husband, was a hard worker. Flowers were her hobby and the little yard in front was cram-jammed with all kinds and varieties. She must have had a green thumb for all kinds thrived under her ministrations. They had once a large family but an accident happened, carrying away several by drowning in the mill pond back of the house. This happened before my time and I remember only two, Lizzie who married Jim Ramsay and Fred who was of a musical bent. He played a violin and teamed up with Tommy Nolan from the Tannery Valley who really was a good player although like Fred, a "natural". Tommy had composed his own variations to the "Mocking Bird" and if pressed would sometimes consent to render this music to a small and appreciative audience.
There was a realistic sign over Daudt's shop door which was probably brought from the old country and it indicated to the public that John Daudt was a boot and shoemaker.
Many years later long after the Daudts were both dead and gone I was privileged to hear Wagner's Meistersingers and when the curtain rose on Hans Sach's cobbler's shop I'm blessed if I didn't behold a replica of John Daudt's sign before my very eyes and Hans himself looked as much like John, to my amazement, as tho' they were doubles of each other.
Mrs. Daudt loved to give away her flowers to callers and chat about family affairs. "That John Daudt" she would say, "he is so pecurious" (penurious). I doubt if he were any more so than she.
Griff Heddy was another man often seen around the Valley although he lived up the hill to the west. His main business seemed to be fishing for minnows which he sold to the White Lake boarders for bait. He could often be seen trudging along the road, body half bent carrying a small net and a pail for keeping bait alive until wanted. He had a sharp nose and no teeth, so his nose and chin often seemed in close proximity. The boys used to tease him unmercifully just to hear his sharp answers in retort to their mean remarks. "Griff" they would say, "When your nose and chin meet that'll be the end of you. Yes sir! That means we will have to come to your funeral."
He was engaged as sexton at the Methodist church. Aunt Melissa Brundage who lived in her vine-clad cottage opposite used sometimes to be late at the service. "Yes," Griff would snort, "If Meliss' lived in a corner of the church, she'd be late." This was hardly true for I have often seen Aunt 'Lissa and Aunt Charlotte Kerr, sisters, spending the few minutes before church began, sitting in a corner pew, heads together nodding and whispering exchanging family news, having a jolly time with each other.
When Griff's wife died, Mrs. Miller who kept the toll gate with her invalid daughter offered the old weary man a home for what chores he could do for them, Mrs. Miller herself being well on in life. When he came out to open the gate, the boys enroute to school would politely say "Good morning Mr. Miller."
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