Bruce Fette

David Bucholz,

I was thinking of trying your egret picture as wallpaper. It is slightly too pixelated in the version copied from the message forum. When I clicked your name to send you an email it went to your page and I saw that you also have ballerina pictures. I currently have a famous Degas ballerina for the wallpaper on my MAC. So I am wondering if I can see some of your ballerina photos, and if I can get a high res photo of the egret with his wings spread to try as wallpaper on my main machine?

Thanks in advance,

Bruce

brucefette@yahoo.com

Stephen (Steve) Dixon

Dave, Phil, Jean & Gene:

I have read all your posts in re gender-maturation with great interest. Hardly surprising to find lots of smart thinking from this group.

I became a dad about as early as anybody in this class, I'll bet. My oldest, Tiffany was born the day of my last final exam in college. Good thing, too! I'm not sure I was totally ready for that final. On my take-home makeup exam, however, I cemented the last A of my college career.

Shortly before I turned 23, we had another daughter (non-secular version of the "Irish twins" concept). When Carol was four and Tiffany five, respectively, I became a single dad. Male heads-of-household (with a surviving ex-spouse) were so rare in the U.S. in 1974 that they didn't even register statistically.

Our journey was an unusual one. I attended a lot of "Mother's Meetings," like the one for prospective members of the local girl scout troop. I had a tremendous amount of help from my parents and we managed to raise two bright, successful and pretty much universally loved girls/women. Honesty compels me to admit that they probably raised me as much as I raised them. I learned so much from them, from their friends, from their wonderful hearts and surprising brains. Still do.

I wouldn't want to be in the girl-raising business today. I have a granddaughter who just turned 16. She will be headed off to college two years from now. Scares the hell out of me.

Philip Spiess

Wow, so much on which to meditate:

Dale:  Given your current vocation, you've undoubtedly fulfilled our school motto, "Sursum ad Summum!" --  "Rise to the Highest!" (How high are you?)

Dave:  Let me say at once that my wife was the math/computer major and I was the English major/aesthete.  She is our business/financial manager  (and, yes, she will admit that in high school she was the "tom-boy" who liked sports and beat up on stupid guys -- just to clear the decks, she's never beaten up on me, but then I'm not a stupid guy).  We both agree that boys and girls can go their own way -- whatever way that is -- and the hell with the rest of the world!  She didn't like Girl Scouts because at that time (in the 1960s) they did "girly" things; she would rather have done Boy Scout things, hiking and camping, and so on (which we've done, with our son and otherwise -- see the pictures on my Profile of our hikes into the mountains).  BUT -- there's no reason why you can't, on occasion, tell your girls that they look pretty -- or that they are smart -- or whatever is an appropriate compliment for where they are at that moment in their lives.  At 8th Grade graduation at the school where I used to teach, I would say to the 8th Grade boys, who were perhaps wearing a suit and tie (and boutonniere) for the first time in their lives (I was the designated teacher to show them how to tie a tie), "My, don't you clean up nicely!" -- a semi-comic way of complimenting them on how handsome they looked (they were always self-conscious).

Gene:  It certainly sounds that you did well by your daughters.

Stephen:  Although you preceded me, and undoubtedly faced a greater challenge, I was working on my Ph. D. when my son was born, and my wife's job (we agreed) took precedence over mine, so I was the "at home Dad," raising my son.  Between taking him to "Mother's Day Out" day care at a Methodist church and being the sole father in the neighborhood playgroup of five kids, I felt a little awkward, but was determined to hold my own.  My son and I are close (he was born on my birthday, and is at least the fourth Philip Spiess in our family).  He had just been born when I was taking my qualifying exams for my Ph. D. at Drew University, five hours north of Washington, D. C., in Madison, New Jersey.  They were four four-hour exams (luckily split into two sessions), and, as I began and looked at the first one, I thought, "Holy shit!  I don't know this stuff -- it makes no sense!"  But I also thought, "I've driven five hours north to take this exam; my baby is waiting for me at home" -- and I just started writing.  I'm not bragging but simply telling the end of the story when I say that I passed my exams with honors.  It was thinking of my baby boy at home that goosed me onwards.  So I congratulate you on your raising of your girls -- you did well!

Philip Spiess

And now to open a new line of inquiry, and to return to youthful memories:

Does anyone remember the ballroom of the Alms Hotel, on Victory Parkway?  (Does anyone remember the Alms Hotel at all?)  There may have been two ballrooms, but the one to which I refer was a dance hall, off of the back of the hotel; as I recall, it was an octagonal room, and the feature which I am addressing here was that it was an elastic dance floor, one which gave easily (as in nearly bouncing up and down) to the rhythms of the dancers.  It was, to be specific, mounted on winches, which could be loosened or tightened, depending on the number of dancers on the floor.  Unbelievable?  Yes -- and yet my memory says that I have seen one other such dance floor elsewhere -- could it have been in England, or was it at the Hotel Coronado in California, just south of San Diego? 

Bruce Fette

Phil,

I think I remember going there to dances, but without a photo, I am not completely certain. I do not remember the dance floor being special, or octagonal. Perhaps it was the other ballroom?  I didnt find a photo of the building on the web.

Bruce

Margery Erhardt (Schrader)

Phil,
Yes, several of us will remember The Alms Hotel as we attended Madame Federova's (Madame Fifi) Ballroom Dancing classes from the 5^th through 8^th grade I believe. The classes were held in the ballroom and it was lovely as was the girl’s powder room where girls would try to crawl out the window. Happy memories!

You also mention Hotel Coronado - one my my favs!!!!

Steven Levinson

Hot Damn, Margery, you and I attended Mme. Fifi's dance classes "together"!  My great-great Aunt Stella lived in the Hotel Alms until she died in the latish 1950s.

David Buchholz

I, too, attended Mme Fifi Fedarova's dance classes, and Stephen, if memory serves me reasonably well, Susan Hines did, too.  I remember those Friday night classes with such a distaste, possibly because I was in a carpool with a number of Pleasant Ridge kids, and I remember that a couple of girls would argue before they got into the car, and the loser had to sit next to me. :{ 

It was also intimidating in that not only was I of diminutive stature, but girls in the fifth-eighth grades had grown taller faster, so trying to do the box step while staring straight into some preteen's belly button was not my favorite way to spend Friday night. (Margery, how tall were you in 1959?)

I do remember that Mme Federova taught us how to introduce ourselves to others, and Johnny Schmitt went up to her and introduced himself as "Spaghetti Jones."  She wasn't nearly as amused as I was.  

David Buchholz

And to return to the subject of girls...yes, Gene, Stephen, you've done a wonderful job of raising daughters.  I have one, too and am very proud of her.  At the age of 38 she has worked or lived in over 60 countries, has a Master's degree in Human Rights and Social Change, and spent most of the last decade teaching Nepali villagers about their rights, even once rescuing a young Nepali girl who had been kidnapped by the Maoists.  She has a daughter that at the age of three (one that I was referring to) who has much of her mother's personality,  and I have no reason to think that she won't turn out a lot like her mom...

Jonathan Marks

Phil--

As I recall, we had Summer Opera rehearsals in the ballroom you remember.

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

Although the building is still in the same location, over the years The Alms has become housing for the poor and notorious for criminal activity and fires.  

I found this article about it on the web:

Stephen (Steve) Dixon

Dave,

Wow! Your daughter has done some incredible things. Obviously smart, caring and very brave. I think if we can just get out of young girls' way, with all the things that they supposedly "can't" do, they will remake the world.

Your granddaughter is an exceptionally beautiful girl. And I think I detect her mother's spunk, undiluted.

Margery Erhardt (Schrader)

Dave and Steve….

Mme. Fifi's dance class was typical of those types of “coming of age” experiences. More boys from WHHS attended than girls. There were only about 3 attending from College Hill (and one attended CPS) as most of the girls attending came from the private schools. It was not easy to get an invitation, at least for girls. Both my sons attended a similar “dance class” in Dallas. Were they happy? Absolutely not…but once the first class met they found a lot of friends who were attending too. Just not part of the boys’ world but my boys were appreciative later on.

Dave – your question about height - I was your typical taller girl at that age. My height was really average until recently and now I appear short when standing with other “younger women” but tall with those my age! Yes, gals get taller earlier than the guys but then “women” become shorter earlier than men. I guess that means we are definitely equal in the end! Oh and, Dave, that has to be the all time cutest pic of your darling little girl. Just so precious!

Steven Levinson

Dave:  "Good evening, Madame Federova.  My name is _________."

Margery:  David Ransohoff, Mike Hunting, I and others got our start at Mme Fifi's from private Lotspeich School.  Most of our class there attended.

Sandy Steele (Bauman)

The Alms Hotel is definitely not the place where we attended dance lessons. I supervise a reading specialist at Douglass Elementary a block from the Alms. Many of the students live there, and many come to school covered in bed bug bites. The nurse at school tells me all the walls at the Alms are infested.

Philip Spiess

Well!  I'm astounded at the response to my post on the Hotel Alms!  Among other things, I'm surprised that it's still standing; I thought it had been torn down.  Also, I'm intrigued by the number of WHHS students who attended Madame Federova's dance classes; those of us who were not invited invariably attended George Gallus's dance classes -- I learned all ballroom dancing, including the cha-cha, there (my best partner was my sister; we danced the Polka in the streets of Innsbruck, Austria, in 1964 on St. John's Eve -- the mid-summer solstice).  In 1973 (or thereabouts) I was attending a society wedding in White Plains, New York, and was stunned when an elderly lady suddenly said to me, "You're from Cincinnati, Ohio, aren't you?"  "Uh, yes," I said, questioningly; "How do you know?"  "Well," she said, "You dance marvelously; all Cincinnatians do!"  Madame Federova?  George Gallus?  Who knew?

So, next hotel:  memories of the Hotel Sinton?  (I own a doorknocker from one of its rooms, and used to attend stamp collectors' conventions there with Don Dahmann.)  Memories of the Hotel Gibson?  As a teenager, I attended several wedding receptions there; the one I particularly remember featured cold shrimp and champagne -- which I still adore -- how I was able to quaff champagne as a teenager I don't know, but I insisted on having both at my own wedding reception in 1978.  (My wife's cousin, amother Philip in the family, who himself was a teenager at the time of our wedding reception, was told by his mother that he could have "one glass of champagne."  When he mentioned this to my father -- a wag from whom I obviously got my jolly genes -- my father said to him, "Okay, you go up to your father and you say, 'May I have my glass of champagne now?'  He'll say 'Yes,' and you'll have it.  Then later you go up to your mother and say, 'May I have my glass of champagne now?' and she'll say 'Yes,' and you'll have it.  Then, much later, you go up to your Auntie Mimi and say, 'May I have my glass of champagne now?' and she'll say, 'Well, okay; better earlier than never!'  And you'll have it, and so on.")  Needless to say, the kid was blotto at the end of our reception -- he had several more aunts and uncles attending (we had left on our honeymoon for Martha's Vineyard -- where I got blotto on Scotch, but that's another story).

Michael Hunting

Ah, yes. Madam Federova. All I remember is the boys were on one side of the room and the girls on the other.

Did anyone also do Junior Squares? It was in the Pepsi Bottling plant off Reading Road.

Finally, how about the interview last night on 60 Minutes with James Levine (WHHS Class of 1961). What a talent.

Gail Weintraub (Stern)

Time to jump in about the Sunday dance classes taken by many of our Jewish classmates. It was not fancy, for sure. The instructor was P. B. Myrick and the classes were held at the VFW Hall in Bond Hill at Reading Road and California Avenue. We certainly didn't wear gloves. We knew that our dance steps were not going to lead to a Cotillion or a similar society coming out event. The focus was on jitterbug, cha-cha and the box slow dance box step. These were the dances that we needed to learn for Bar Mitzvah party dance competitions and JCC dances. Oy. 

According to Rick Steiner, at our first class, our instructor, P. B., danced with a glass of water on his head. My recollection was that he always picked dance partners who were "well developed". Long after we graduated from high school, we heard that he had been charged and convicted for some sort of sexual activity. Pedophile? OR? Fact/fiction? Can any classmates comment on this?

Despite this rather shady character, we learned a lot of great dance steps. We can still stroll, twist and jitterbug. And, many of us continue to have a lot of fun executing the steps we learned "back in the day".

Rick Steiner

Ah...PB

He did teach us to dance,  and as a matter of fact, during lunchtime at North Avondale elementary, we often danced in the gym.  Jitterbug(never the lindy) and boxstep, with an occasional one two cha cha cha thrown in.  

Steven Levinson

Phil:  Don't forget the Gibson Hotel (home of the Gibson Girls and the Gibson cocktail).  My late mother-in-law, Mildred Gehler, liberated two steel luggage racks from the place just before it was demolished.   Years later, Lynn and I painted them enamel white and had glass cut to fit the tops; they've been in our living room ever since as side tables.  They look great.

Steven Levinson

Mike:  Do you remember Tommy Levine (Jimmy's younger brother) from Lotspeich?  He was a year ahead of us and was my nemesis when we were in the second grade with Katherine Van Arsdale.  He terrorized me on the Clifton bus the entire year.  We ran into him probably twenty years later.  He was waiting tables at a restaurant on Price Hill and had apparently turned into a very nice guy.

Sandy Steele (Bauman)

When my husband and I were dating, his family would take the entire family to a restaurant called The Yeatman's Cove, once a year. I think it was in the old Sinton hotel.

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

The Sheraton Gibson was where I saw JFK. He was campaigning in Cincinnati and I was one of the "Kennedy Girls" who lined the walkway wherever he went. We wore plastic "straw" hats and sashes. It was a proud moment, indelibly seared into my memory. 

On the west side of the Gibson, was Wiggins restaurant. I have another  memory, not so clear, of walking back to my office at Seventh & Sycamore from a Christmas lunch HOUR with some coworkers.  I managed to get back to my desk by 3:30 (work let out at 4:45). Our supervisor, who told us she would ok our being late back from lunch, was WASTED. We left her sitting on a curb in front of St. Xavier Church. She never got back to the office, and we never saw her again. 

Margery Erhardt (Schrader)

Sandy - Mme. Federova's (not sure if spelling is correct) Dance Classes are different from the other dance class Phil mentioned and the one you attended. And the hotel back then was not like it is today as Ann pointed out.

Mike - Junior Squares at the Pepsi Bottling Plant - YES...remember it well.  Door prizes were silver dollars.  I always went home with one after each dance and don't believe I have won anything since! :)

Philip Spiess

I, too, was in Junior Squares at the bottling plant; it's left an indelible mark on my memory:  "Now Alaman [sp.?] left with the old left hand, / Then meet your partner in a right-and-left Grand: / Hand over hand with the dear little thing; / Now meet your partner and, two by two, / You get along home like you oughter do!" / "Now dig for the oyster, / Dig, dig, dig! / And dive for the clam, / Dive, dive, dive -- / Now ladies swing out and gents swing in / And form that Texas Star ag'in!"  (This stuff goes through my memory over and over when I'm having nightmares -- sort of like the lesser songs of Gilbert & Sullivan.)

(Steve:  I did mention the Hotel Gibson -- but I don't think it was where the Gibson cocktail was invented, if that's what you were implying.  The tradition is that, because of the cocktail's two cocktail onions, it was named after Charles Dana Gibson's "Gibson Girl" drawings, the onions representing their nipples -- such is the naming of drinks!  The "Gibson Girls" you mention at Cincinnati's Hotel Gibson were, I'm guessing, waitresses or entertainers?)

Sandy:  There was the restaurant, "Yeatman's Cove" (named for where the first New Jersey settlers landed -- Fort Washington was built later not too far above it -- to found "Losantiville," i.e., Cincinnati, at the foot of Deer Creek, a spot on the Ohio River bank approximately where Gilbert Avenue would end if extended to the river; Gilbert Avenue, if memory serves, was built over Deer Creek, which was polluted by blood from the slaughter houses and refuse from the shoe factories).  If, as I recall, the restaurant's location was on the southeast corner of Fourth and Vine [?], it would have been, I think, in the basement of the Hotel Sinton (named after David Sinton, who lived at one time in what's now the Taft Museum -- Laura Pease, help me out here), but I seem to recall it in the basement of the building that succeeded the Sinton on that site, the 5th/3rd Bank [maybe?].

Ann:  Wiggins Restaurant, yes!  Squeezed in next to the Albee Theater, was it?  And there was a B/G restaurant also in that block, toward the Vine Street end; it had absolutely the best mayonnaise in town on its sandwiches.  Quite different from the equally good mayonnaise in the coleslaw at the old Central Oyster House on the north side of 5th Street, just east of Fountain and Government Squares.  (I was not a mayonnaise enthusiast in those days, but I loved it in those two places.)  The Central Oyster House was one of my favorite restaurants downtown -- long and narrow, sawdust on the floors, stamped-tin ceilings, crusty waiters in long white aprons who had been there forever, oyster stew being "brewed" in pots in the front window -- the Grand Central Station Oyster Bar in New York had nothing on this place!  Unfortunately, when it was forced to move during urban renewal from 5th Street to Main Street below Fourth (across from the Cincinnati Gas & Electric Co.), it updated its decor and menu -- and closed within a few years.

Reminiscing about downtown restaurants:  When Don Dahmann and I would go downtown to Ralph Hoffmann's philatelic shop or Acres of Books, we would often eat lunch at the old Mary Lee's Tearoom in the Arcade under Carew Tower (best egg salad sandwiches and Welsh Rarebit in town) or the Temple Delicatessen across from Shillito's (best leberwurst sandwiches and Kreplach soup in town).  However, when I was in college and home for the summer, I'd invariably take visiting fellow students across the river to Newport to the beer garden atop the roof of Wiedemann's Brewery -- I was often also there with Jeff Rosen -- where we'd be serenaded by the dulcet strains of the Delta Queen's calliope, which sounded as if it were coming up Monmouth Avenue.  Or I'd take them to historic Mecklenberg's Beer Garden in Corryville, where we'd lounge while consuming beef rouladen with potato pancakes and quaffing cold beer in the summer heat under the grape arbors and colored lights, like my German ancestors of yore.  (Unfortunately, all too soon after that, Mecklenberg's was bought out by a group of hippies who, going against all tradition, dropped the beef and beer, introducing Asian cuisine, vegetarian dishes, and mineral water!)  I think (hope!) that, too, soon closed.

But Ann, to get back to your supervisor:  Did no one ever inquire about what happened to her, left at the curb?  (Or was she that kind of supervisor, that no one ever cared?)  Did St. Xavier's Church make her join a convent?  ("Get thee to a nunnery!")  Was she locked up in the Cincinnati Workhouse in Camp Washington?  (What a Dickensian title and place!)  Was she sold to Haffner's Eagle Tannery just down the street from the Workhouse and turned into glue?  Did she become a Gibson Girl and join the Cincinnati Bar Association?  Did no one ever really know?  (Wow!)