Westerville, Condit, and a Lost Dog, 1909

[From the author’s collection]

            In the days of postcards and hand written letters, correspondents often began, or ended, with a plea for more messages, more letters.  Many letters contained hints that cards and letters were too infrequent.  This was understandable, in a time when waits for replies to letters could take days or weeks.  If the writer was slow to answer, carrying on a conversation could stretch to months or even years.  Our time has grown used to split second replies over whatever electronic gizmo you use.

            So when I read the back of a card postmarked August 14, 1909 in Westerville, the message was blunt, perhaps a sign that someone had run out of patience:

Are you dead or alive? 

She goes on:

 Have not heard from you Sarah.

Then, cryptically, she goes on:

Let me know about the dog so I can come and get it

           

As for being dead or alive, the postcard offers few clues.  Signed “Marnie,” the card is addressed to a Mrs. Sarah Baughman of Condit, Ohio.  Without a last name, I had little luck finding Marnie (or possibly Mamie) in the records.  In fact, except for the fact that she was ticked off (good naturedly, I hope) and was trying to find a dog, that is about all I know of Marnie.

Her correspondent is a little easier to track.  Sarah Baughman is listed in the census of 1910 as a 41 year old woman living with her husband, Levi Baughman, a railroad “section hand.”  A section hand was an employee of the railroad who was in charge of visual inspection of a stretch of the roadbed.  Sarah, whose maiden name was Feasel, lived from 1868 to 1946.  She lived in Delaware County nearly all her life.  She moved to Knox County’s Ceneterburg near the end, to be near her son.  She is buried in the Trenton Cemetery, Sunbury.  Or Condit.[i]

I have lived in the area nearly twenty five years.  Sunbury I certainly know; my wife used to work in Sunbury.  But Condit was new to me.  Sarah Baughman’s card is clearly addressed to “Condit.”  Where in the world is, or was, Condit?

Closer to Westerville than you might think.  Following State Route 3 north, it is the first town you pass after Sunbury.  Named for L. S. Condit, the operator of a creamery, Condit had a post office until 1952.  One of the few Condit sights that Sarah Bauman would recognize today is the still-operating Presbyterian Church.  At one time, Condit boasted two school districts, North Condit and South Condit.[ii]  There were actually three communities named Condit.  One was along the CCC highway, centered at the former post office.  One was at the northwest corner of the intersection of Hartford Road and 605.  And finally, one was at railroad depot (“Condit Station”).  In an era dominated by railroads, it was not unusual to have a town with a tagged on “station” alter ego.[iii]

I’m sure that Delaware County natives could tell me more, much more, about Condit.  Like many small towns around us, Condit will be:

1.       Gobbled up and eventually be annexed by Sunbury

2.      Reincorporated and make a stand as a self-contained town

3.      Dry up and blow away

4.      Sink into the Alum Creek reservoir as a result of global warming

These futures are in roughly the order of likelihood, depending on whether you are an optimist or a pessimist.

            One thing is for sure: the history of any town, including Westerville, is also the history of its neighborhood.  And learning about your town and its neighbors sometimes hinges on something as insignificant as an uneven postmark. 

            I wonder if the dog ever made it home,

[Westerville Public Library]

Alan Borer