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At first, after you died I girded myself for the arrival of the mailman – sympathy cards, notifications in your name, even the ones from the monuments people wanting us to purchase you a headstone- at least they recognized your family should have a say. As the months disappeared into years pretty much the only mail for you would be the yearly invite to a “four-wheeler” event.
Last week however, Monday , found me opening your letter calling for you to submit work created between January 2015 and December 2016 for AIGA Cleveland . My breath was only sucked out of me for just a few moments and although I was in a foul mood and very touchy for the rest of the day, causing everyone around me to tread on eggshells, I managed.
Then the mailman knocked on the door three days later with a registered letter from the Cleveland Clinic – I can’t abide that conglomerate of medical management http://my.clevelandclinic.org/ This letter was from the Andrology Laboratory and Reproductive Tissue Bank.
Apparently they were updating records and it came to their attention you had passed away “our condolences” (written as an after thought) but we need to dispose of what remains of your son’s life ( my words) hereto known as the “sample” .
I was confused, incredulous , not sure what I was reading – yes I remembered you, on doctor’s advice, had banked sperm before the chemo. I had wondered weeks after your death what would happen. I didn’t do anything because since the Lombardis and the then your wife – Angela Ritchey ( now Dr. Angela Murphy- http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff/16147-angela-murphyespecially Sue Lombardi ,had made ALL the decisions as to what would be happening with you, my son and your mortal remains, with no input from his family – they would have seen to this as well. I hadn’t realized you had designated me in this instance.
And here it was -the Clinic apparently had not “disposed of ” (their term) the sample upon your death as contracted . Now, I have to make the decision to call them re maintaining the samples – should I do nothing they will commence the disposal on what would ironically be your wedding anniversary !!!!
I read and reread the letter , my gut churned, my mind ran amuck – this planet still holds your life essence and the cavalier Clinic wanted to tell me they were once again in disposal mode.
I cried ,gasped for air, memories became reality once again in the ensuing hours. Everything came rushing back – emotional incontinence, anger , disbelief, pain returned full force.
Thoughts of what could be , what should have been, pulling the plug conference in that damned hospital – stony faced Lombardis – removed from the emotions of your death – sitting at that conference table looking like they were smelling bad fish and hoping against hope I would agree to your being taken off life support. Inconvenient, if I wouldn’t agree as Sue Lombardi had already picked out the “coffin clothes”. https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/10/14/an-open-letter-mama-sue-lombardi/
I wasn’t thinking straight –
I could get legal advice about maintaining the “sample” – you see to me was more than a “sample” it was my grandchildren that would never be- the life essence of my son and yet there was hope still– surrogate mother ran through my head- what would that cost? and then the darker thoughts of what did they mean by “disposal ” did they dump your “essence of life” into medical waste, the toilet , down a sink? My mind raged , bled and remembered……
Logically I know, you had signed the contract your “sample” should be “disposed of” after your death, so I believe that is what you wanted. Even if I could find a surrogate – it would be sheer selfishness on my part to bring a child into the world when I am surely heading out of it before they would be grown and finally you had a blood cancer when the “sample of life” was taken, I couldn’t take a chance that any child born would have a chance of cancer.
I haven’t responded to the Clinic as yet- although I know I will have to but it is hard to once again have to pull that plug……….
I love you ………
The continuing pages from Oklahoma- Since there are just the last three and one quarter pages left in the group of writings found above the beam I have decided to finish up this part of the mystery – as to the pages at least 🙂 in a two part post of today and tomorrow
About a year lat(t)er the city was startled one night when it was learned that young Bob Sandford had been found dead in his automobile just two miles east of town in a lonely road known as Lovers Roost. He had been shot and a revolver was found on the seat of the car. The discovery was made about 11:30 ( ripped )
I heard about it while ( sitting) crossed out at the club. I did not see Bruce until the next morning at the office and I was reading the morning paper when he came in about 9:30. I spoke of the finding of young Sandford and Bruce said ” It is too bad and I feel mighty sorry for Tom and Bob’s mother.
I asked if he had seen the paper and he said he had not. I told him that two local young men had gone to Police Headquarters and told that they had seen a young woman get into Bob’s car about 8:30 (last ) crossed out that night just about three blocks east of the Bartmore Hotel and they drove on out that street. The police were working on that clue and had found that the girl had registered at the hotel I said her name is “Rose Flemming” and on the hotel register gives her address as D….( ripped) Ok. Delmar(?) is about the same size City torn Bartmore and is about 50 miles w(est) torn…….
Bruce said “what did you say was the girl’s name? And I repeated “Rose Flemming”
That evening about 8:30 Bruce and I met at the Club and enjoying a game of Billiards when a member of the Club came in and said ” Well the police have that girl over at the Police Station and I guess they are giving her ( torn)…He said that the Chief had told him ( torn)…. admitted she knew young Sandford, but so far re( fused?) to talk. He said the Chief expected a confession before midnight. Bruce looked at his watch and said ” Judge you will have to excuse me for I just happened to remember I have some business to attend to” I thought nothing of it at the time and latter went home.
The next morning while at the breakfast table a reporter from “the Times’ phoned and asked if it was true that Hartwell and Barton would defend “Rose Flemming” I laughed and told him No. Why we never have taken any criminal cases of that kind. The reporter said well that is the report from Police Headquarters and we tried to get in touch with Mr. Barton but (torn..) not get him. I hung up at once and (torn)…the office and Bruce was waiting for me I could see at once something had (torn)……….
ED NOTE: The only Delmar OK I could find was an amusement park in Oklahoma City https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delmar_Gardens ( and that might play a part later on)
However I did find a Rose Flemming of Oklahoma for that time period and beyond…..
Rose of the Cuimarron
met and became involved romantically with George “Bittercreek” Newcomb around 1893. The gang that Newcomb ran with worshipped her due to her good looks and her calm and kind demeanor, and were fiercely defensive of her, spawning her loyalty to them.
She was completely infatuated with Newcomb and began supporting Newcomb’s outlaw life by venturing into town for supplies, as he was a wanted man and could not. Newcomb by that time was riding with the Wild Bunch gang led by famous outlaw Bill Doolin. Her brothers, however, had left the outlaw life and had become well-known Bounty Hunters, calling themselves the Dunn Brothers.
On September 1, 1893, the gang was cornered in Ingalls by a posse of U.S. Marshals, in what became known as the Battle of Ingalls, resulting in an intense shootout. A western legend has it that Newcomb was badly wounded, and while he lay in the street, Rose Dunn is alleged to have run from the “Pierce Hotel” to his location with two belts of ammunition and a Winchester rifle. She fired the rifle at the Marshals while Newcomb reloaded his revolvers, and Newcomb was able to escape. However, that account has never been verified, and was never mentioned by the US Marshal official report, which indicated that Newcomb at best fired two shots then fled.
Three Deputy Marshals were killed during the shootout. Newcomb and Charley Pierce were wounded but escaped. Gang member “Arkansas Tom” Jones was slightly wounded and captured by Deputy Marshal Jim Masterson. Together with Newcomb and other members of the gang, Rose Dunn hid out for at least two months nursing the remaining gang members back to health.
and that Rose Flemming definitely makes interesting reading although it is doubtful that Rose (Dunn) Flemming was Clara’s mother imho …and so it continues
We left the Oklahoma pages with some answers – yes there was an oil boom in 1904 the probable location of the “town of Bartmore” but very little else and the town of Bartlesville? But we are not any closer. I cannot find Hartwell and Barton- nor Bruce Barton – so back to the pages of Oklahoma
Page 4 Clara- Oklahoma
….. Martha Barton Hospital was built by and fu(lly) (torn) equipped and given to the City of Bartmore and (he) torn gave 50,00 each year for its upkeep.
Bartmore boats of two of the best surgeons in ( the ) stet and they were brought her by Bruce Ba(rton)torn. He established six public playgrounds and ( torn and missing) gave them to Bartmore.
The people wanted to put him into politics. He never would concent(sp) I know that Bruce Barton could have been Govenor of this state if he had wished to be.
The firm Hartwell and Barton had gone on for several years and while I had married and was the Daddy of two fine children, Bruce still remained a Bachelor. He had built a fine home just north of Bartmore about 2 miles from the city limits and had a fine old couple Mr. and Mrs. Sweeney look after his place. Mrs. Sweeney acting as housekeeper and Phil Sweeney overseeing the farm.
ED NOTE: Internet searches have not turned up any of these names so far
Bruce seemed to get a great deal of pleas(ure)torn out of his home. He had a wonderful ….. torn stock and spent thousands of dollars ..keeping(?) his grounds
Page 5 Clara OK
Bartmore boasts of having one of the finest ??????? ED Note- this next word has me stymied- I am literally going crossed eyed trying t decipher these pages. You decide…. I can get Aviations – Carnation -( yes there is such a thing as carnation fields ) Donations – I am thinking “aviation” you decide
fields in the United States and Bruce Barton gave every acre of land and saw that everything was built and arranged to make it one of the best and then gave it to the city.
ED NOTE – again if it was a early aviation field I can’t find anything given to Barton
http://www.airfields-freeman.com/OK/Airfields_OK_E.htm however there is a Bartlesville (city owned air strip) and it made history – no mention of a Bruce Barton though
http://www.examiner-enterprise.com/news/local-news/bartlesville-back-when-flying-history-made-locally photo the Examiner – Enterprise
I just tell you these things to give you an idea of what k(ind) of a man he was.
Tom Sandford ED NOTE could not an oilman Tom Sandford BUT there was a Sanford Oil in Bartlesville Nov 1921 ) was another man who had made lots of money in oil and his son Bob who was just returned home from Law School was one of those young fellows who had always had everything he every wanted and his father wanted Bruce and I to take him in our office for a couple of years. I was in favor of it but Bruce said No and frankly told Tom very plainly just why he objected and he said ” Tom I like Bob and want to see him succeed but just as long as you furnish your son with all the money he wants and buy him high powered cars he never will work and never will amount to a …… ( word unreadable)
Well the result was that Tom Sandford was very much offended and said as much. But Bruce was firm and said “Tom just cut off ( missing) allowance and compel him to dig for him ( self) and in latter years Bob will thank you (…….. missing)
And there we have it more of the story and yet we know so very little that checks out . One thing I have found in trying to tie names to places I have found some very interesting reading about the oil fields and also since this is being written on MLK Day the riots in Tulsa in 1921
Tulsa’s darkest hour came on June 1, 1921, when racial tensions erupted in violence against African-Americans living in an area north of downtown. Thirty-five blocks of black businesses and residences were burned down including Greenwood Ave., known as “The Black Wall Street”. Both blacks and whites were killed, although the numbers are still debated today.
and “on the rarely-mentioned 1921 onslaught, aerial bombing, and incineration of the “Black Wall Street” business district of Tulsa, Oklahoma, in 1921, by white mobs, including the KKK and government forces.”
To be continued ……….
The last 48 hours have sent me on a journey, and I am not alone, the History Mystery Squad have been delving into what little facts we can obtain on the subject of just who was Clara?
We have, I believe, solved the mystery of C.C MOORE – Vice President of the Lorain Lumber and Manufacturing Co.
My assumption as to the identity of C. C Moore – Vice President of Lorain Lumber and Manufacturing Co – 9th Street on the letter head may be that of his wife “Carrie Christine ( Friends) Moore” whom Leonard Moore married in 1895-
Carrie’s father was Charles F Friend – The information on Find a Grave has Charles F Friend as a tug boat captain and fisherman but also according to the history of Lorain County Charles F Friend was the Vice President of Lorain Lumber and Manufacturing Com organized in 1881 –
That makes sense to me, those earning their living on the lake need to have an alternative source of income during those months when all the lake gives up is ice and rough seas. The letter head definitely says C. C. Moore .
Was Lorain ahead of her time in having women in important positions? I was told that it was quite normal in that day and age , many of the wives of the ship’s captains, for instance, took over the roles of running the on shore businesses as their husbands, fathers and brothers were on the lake and needed elsewhere.
So I believe, the linkage as to lumber, the Moore of the letter head may be solved but on the other side of the page we still have Clara – what was her relationship with Lorain Lumber if any, the lumber company’s letter head used for her story?
You can see the paper mache replicas of the Moore family, including Carrie, at the Moore House on 5th street. However following the links below will take you to photos and more information:
Lisa of Lorain 365 Blog https://Lorain365.com meeting Carrie in 2014
Meeting the Moores
Mrs. Martin had been our House-keeper, sort of a nurse (for(crossed through)to me since I had been 7 years old (and I now to tell her-crossed through).
In a short time we were in Mother’s Roadster and drove to Brighton
ED NOTE: The only Brighton I could find in Ohio and in Lorain County – is Brighton Township and from Wikipedia ” Some say the community was so named on account of it being a “bright spot”, while others believe the name is a transfer from Brighton, New York, the native home of a share of the first settlers. A post office called Brighton was established in 1825, and remained in operation until 1904 The first country store at Brighton opened in around 1839.
and there had a nice lunch and then into the car again and out into the country. Finally we stopped at a beautiful woods and mother said let us get out and explore. We were soon deep into the woods and finally came to the small stream of water. A beautiful day in June and we sat under a large Oak tree and then mother started speaking of the birds, the flowers the trees and spoke of their beauty.
Then she said “Clara I am going to tell you the story of my life and dear it is such a beautiful story if it is correctly told and daughter that is why I have brought you out here today , to this beautiful place.
You are at the turning point in life and will soon step from (girl-hood?) into womanhood (and then she pointed to a bird- crossed through) Clara if you and I had come out her last winter we would have found the trees bare, the grass dead and there would have been very little signs of life, (and-crossed through) But in ………………….
So many October 3rds have come and gone in real time but not in my time . The anniversary of those last photos of you with your family before heading back to MD Anderson and Texas for the trial of SGN 35 to save your life. The head and shoulders shot taken that day – apparently used at the funeral home.
Friday , your dad, was undergoing a procedure. I was once again in a hospital- and I so hate hospitals – I gear myself to go – I put on an armor of self-protection- walk through the pitfalls of triggers – knowing where they are in those places.
I prepared myself as I drove to the appointment for the laughter of those individuals working in these places as they go about their working day, white coats and scrubs , the sound of rubber soles squeaking on polished tiles, the smells, the sights of those who lay in various positions hooked up to life sustaining fluids that drip silently into their veins, the alarms going off when they don’t , those sitting in wheelchairs and those who wait in chairs that provide no comfort, the sound of curtains being drawn around a patients bed, the calls for doctors and needs over the speakers, technicians scurrying with vials of blood in handy little carrying cases,
All routine every day happenings in any hospital but for me a minefield. I have managed in this recent bout of illness and emergency rooms with your dad. I have walked myself through each day each diagnosis, each “episode” ( meaning) “a finite period in which someone is affected by a specified illness”. A throw away word which has much more meaning to some than others.
“Oh he had an episode” during the night……………..
I took a book with me to try to read , that didn’t work , I read the words but did not comprehend , my brain too busy trying to control, block and filter out unwanted sights, sounds and thoughts. I sat and waited.
The procedure was taking longer than they had said. My mind started racing and my blocking mechanism to such thoughts kicked in to hold down the doubts and thoughts which started to form.
“CODE BLUE CATH LAB” ,
A rushing of movement, a curtain being pulled once more across the entrance to the lab corridor, people flying past yet at the same time controlled, disturbing the air where I sat, carts arriving , staff with an intense look to their faces heeding the call. Then nothing just quiet efficiency from those that remained, no more laughter a deadly seriousness entered the area like a spectre waiting to gather in all hope.
I watched the curtain across the corridor, willing it to open , waiting for your dad to reappear from the place behind – nothing and then another “Code Blue Cath Lab” call— more people going through and behind the curtain.
A nurse walked by and looked at me –
are you alright-
came the answer forced from my throat. She wasn’t to know I was no longer in St. John’s Westshore but in a waiting room all alone on a Thanksgiving Day at the Cleveland Clinic and another CODE BLUE continually ringing through the hall the Code Blue being called to your bedside.
The armor crumbled, the blocking wall fell slow motion like into so much dust, intentions to stay in the present ripped away – leaving the raw and exposed wound of a scar of grief that never fully heals. I was undone and collapsed like the wall once again in two worlds…………
Although not involved with our case, the nurse checked and it wasn’t your dad. Some other loved one was sending shock waves of terror to their family .
The nurse came back held my hand – “I couldn’t help but notice your eyes – they were so full of fear…..”
I didn’t explain that the woman she had helped and was talking to was just a mere shell – the rest of her was elsewhere still trying to breathe………..
Every time I read of accusations on facebook , social media etc I do so with a wariness. I wouldn’t have had a few years ago. In my last post
I mentioned our 11 months of hell caused by an elderly neighbor who truly believed her accusations. Before her dementia she had been a good neighbor, wanting to help with the community and did so , her talent as an artist used more than once with neighborhood events .
The family made no effort to help and so this neighbor literally took down her favorite tree, glass blocked her windows and put up fences . She was scared , frightened and alone in the fact she did not get the help she needed and that fact rippled through our lives. Due to her actions, we could not help – our attorney forbade any contact- so we had to leave her to her own terrifying nights until at last, after being found by another neighbor wandering the street in her night attire, something was finally done. The damage to our family was already done-
I wrote about that time on another blog The WoM Blog 10 years ago – I would like you to read this tale of accusation – 11 months of proving innocence- this could happen to you –and the years between have not erased the helplessness and yes anger at the family we felt.
J’Accuse- The Cost of Innocence
It is 6:00 am. in Lorain – Do you know where your attorney is?
John Paul Sartre got it right when he stated in his play – No Exit
”HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE!”
The accuser and the accusations:
A neighbor, elderly and alone (who fully believed in her accusations) and since she wasn’t a known trouble maker or on anyone’s radar was totally believable- so the complaints made to the various authorities seemed reasonable.
1. a male neighbor throwing things at her house
2. male footprints in the freshly fallen snow leading to her front door from the neighbors
3. weapons being hidden between the houses
4. a male neighbor exposing himself through the fence
5. a neighbor opening the fire hydrants on the street
6. a male neighbor pointing a gun at her through the back door
7. a male neighbor hiding in the shrubs
8. intruders in her basement
9. intruders inside her house
10. up on her roof at night
11. neighbors cutting her phone lines
So I would ask you – you are the Lorain Police Department – you are getting these calls from an elderly woman, all alone- starting in June and carrying through to May of the next year. You send patrol cars -you check – you wake people from a sound sleep at all times of the night to make sure they are home and not harassing an elderly woman.
You respond when a citizen complains, it is documented. The elderly woman tells the rest of the neighborhood what it happening to her, enlisting their aid. The “family” of the accuser calls the accused family “perverts”-among other insulting remarks.
ARE YOU FEELING SYMPATHY AND OUTRAGE FOR THIS POOR WOMAN?
The REST of the story :
1. the things being thrown -tennis balls- coming across and into her yard as the kids in a neighboring home are playing ball.
2. footprints in the snow- the mail carrier coming from one house delivering to another
3. weapons ( supposedly being hidden to hit the neighbors on the head) – fallen tree limbs from her own tree
4. THE DE -FENCE NO. 4 -in the Accusations list
Oh! and the “exposing of a male part of the anatomy through the fence (from two properties away I might add)
It was the first accusation – I remember it so well another neighbor phoned,
NB. where is your husband?
ME: He is at the store –
NB: Oh good Sally phoned to say he was putting his penis through (another neighbors fence) ( two doors away)
ME: WHAT???? Is this some sort of a joke??
NB: No she is claiming your husband is sticking his penis through a knot hole in the fence….
AND SO IT BEGAN –
The elderly lady was fixated with the knothole and the penis and called out the police on another fine summer day. I asked the officer who was a little sharp with me at first to please come and look at the fence. He reluctantly did so – I showed him the knot hole and its position in the fence and then I said
“officer if you can put your penis through that hole I will personally put the handcuffs on my husband “
A little grin did flicker across his face as he remarked ”
” No thank you ma’am I am more endowed than to fit that opening.
I then took him to the other side of the fence where we have a pond. and where in order to expose oneself you would have to lay on your side half in the water.
The officer wrote up a report which was pretty laughable- the Chronicle Telegram and their reporter saw the police report, thankfully we were spared our names in the article – Shawn Foucher wrote the article : If The Fence Don’t Fit You Have To Acquit!
5. Opening Fire Hydrants – The fire dept. was called by the accuser, and the LFD were very irate, it was in fact the Lorain Water Dept. as they had a water line burst on Oberlin Avenue. So when the Fire Dept then turned off the gushing fire hydrant the water dept. guys from the Utilities Dept came running down the street waving their arms as they were now having to deal with gushing water .
6. The gun , after three such calls and reports it turns out, when questioned further, that the “gun” was actually a “RAY GUN” and this wonderful invention (invented apparently by the accused) could make her steel back door disappear for 8 seconds at a time and she had to blink to get it back!
7. The shrub – was an over 70 foot maple tree, which not only did the accused manage to climb, in the dark – but did so in a DRESS. (ouch!)
8. The intruders (now there were two) the accused and his wife- apparently getting in through the vent in the glass block window
9. Picture this if you will. The police are called the “intruders” (we now have two again) are in the house, armed . One officer arrives, he has called for back up however there is a serious problem elsewhere other officers are tied up on another call. With caution the officer calls to the intruders to come out of the closet. Nothing, silence- weapon at the ready he throws open the door to a closet???? no one
Ma’am are you sure they went in here?
What is the matter with you ? Can’t you see them- they are hiding under that lampshade!
Call for back up was cancelled!
10. Up on the roof (raccoons and squirrels using her roof as a route from one tree to another )
11. The phone lines were cut as a truck making deliveries to More for Less caught the overhead lines and ripped them down.
NOTE – pretty funny isn’t it??? but these plausible complaints were harrowing to us at the time and terrifying to her – AND WE HAD TO PROVE EVERYDAY – EVERY COMPLAINT THAT WE WERE INNOCENT!!!!
The EFFECT😦 Due to these accusations):
1. Hundreds of dollars were spent by the accused on lawyers letters, dealing with the accusations, building higher fences . Family members of the accuser making insulting and damning remarks (rather than seeing the problem- again lawyers letters)
2. Months of harassment, being woken from a sound sleep at all hours of the night with the police at the door responding to the accusations. Not being comfortable and able to relax in your OWN home.
3. Documenting your every move for over a year. Because when someone makes an accusation that you were doing something at a certain time you better have proof that you were elsewhere and have a reliable witness.
So you keep a daily/hourly diary, where you were, who was with you, if you go to the store alone -you keep the time stamped receipt. You cannot even go into your back yard without a witness or companion. Your reputation is shot! Your life becomes about PROVING YOUR INNOCENCE every day, just because “J’Accuse”.
4. The embarrassment is bad enough but the stress takes its toll, infact this living on the accusatory knife-edge ( and people will say – hmmmm where there is smoke…..) effects you emotionally and physically you become ill. You can’t sleep, you are on the defensive, your life is turned upside down and the lives of your family, you are angry, bewildered and hurt .
YOUR HOME, YOUR SANCTUARY BECOMES A PRISON
Everyday you have to prove innocence because someone made an accusation, that on the face of it, was believable. You spend your days “explaining” and your nights waiting for the next phone call or knock on the door wanting to know what you are doing and where you have been .
It is only when you look into the “rest of the story” that you realize that as ridiculous as these accusations really were the suffering, expense and the toll on a family -wasn’t funny.
AND NOW – the hedges are grown deliberately- so the daughter and husband who had their say as I was screamed at by the “construction king ” and ironically wanting MY HELP in their “estate court case” can no longer peer into my garden- let them inspect the alley–
You see the grandfather also had issues before he passed only at that time it was another neighbor who bore the brunt of his “visions” – those ” good ” neighbors eventually moved…… So before accusations are made – and believed remember sometimes all is not so cut and dried…………………………THIS PROVING OF INNOCENCE CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE ……….