The Power of the Ring - Alternatively - Preventing Arthritis

The Power of the Ring

Alternatively – Preventing Arthritis

 Before my mother passed away she told me the only finger she did not have arthritis in was her ring finger.  Upon telling this story to an apothecary friend, she said gold is used for arthritis.  The only problem was my mother’s rings were platinum, so I don’t know if it is the metal or simply the wearing of a ring that makes a difference.   The only I do know is everyone over the age of 70, I have mentioned it has agreed. 

In high school I broke my little finger and around the age of 40 it started becoming arthritic. Based on my mother’s advice, I purchased a simple gold ring with a running theme.   My wife didn’t like the idea of my wearing a pinky ring, but I said it was to help with arthritis.

As soon as I began wearing the ring, my finger began burning.  I didn’t know what was happening but I knew something was happening.  After wearing the ring for a few months, the ring was too big as my finger had gone down in size.  I took it to a jeweler and this is where the story gets more interesting.

I told the female jeweler who was about 50, what my mother had said.  I further explained it was working for me and it now needed to be downsized.   She had never heard this before and I suggested she ask her mother.  She mentioned her grandmother was still alive and it was suggested she ask her grandmother. 

A few days later when she saw me walking into in the store, she was white and acted as if she had seen a ghost.  My thought was the provided information surprised her.  She told me she had spoken to her grandmother and her grandmother had agreed, the only finger which was not arthritic was her ring finger!  The woman further explained, she had worked in the jewelry store for 30 years and had never heard this before.  Something tells me she will repeat this story to many, if not most of her clients. 

I don’t know what it is that prevents or heals arthritis by wearing a ring, but I believe any senior citizen who reads this story will agree.   It’s hoped that individuals who may have severely arthritic fingers, that this may help them reduce their arthritis.  Even preferably, there is further hope a scientific teacher or researcher may study this phenomenon to help understand why it can assist. 

There is one downside to this information.  When my wife heard the above power of a ring, she smiled and waved her fingers in front of me and said, “I need ten rings….” 

Enjoy…

 

White’s Two Minute Villa and the invention of chewing gum

This was written by my grandmother in about 1950.  its a great story about William J. White who invented modern day chewing gum.  This story provides a great insight to the parties at White's Two Minute Villa.  It was so named as Mr. White wanted to race a horse that could run a mile under two minutes.  He was able to accomplish this but that's another story. 

 At the turn of the last century, White’s Yucatan Gum, wrapped in pink paper which was encircled by a narrow yellow band, was one of the few chewing gums on the market.

It is a generally accepted fact that W.J. White made the first gum in his own home from his own formula, and that Mrs. White sold it from door to door using a little hand pulled cart to carry her stock of gum. 

This could have been true for only a short time as before 1890, the White were enormously wealthy people.  In fact, Mr. White was spoken of as “Millionaire White” as often as “Chewing Gum White”

Those of us who remember Rockport, Ohio at about 1900 (especially that part of Rockport where Wooster Road crosses Lorain Road and winds down into the Metropolitan Park) will remember White’s Two Minute Villas at the top of Wooster Road hill, and White’s Stock Farm at the foot of the hill. 

Mr. White, like many wealthy men, had become interested in thoroughbred horses, especially race horses.  (He named his villa, “White’s Two Minute Villa” as he wanted to his horses to run a mile under 2 minutes – he would later have a horse succeed at this)  It was on his farm which is now part of the Metropolitan Park, that he bred, raised, and trained his race horses.  One of his most famous race horses was “Star Pointer” and is buried somewhere in what is now the golf course.  The race track, where his trainers worked the horses, is now part of the golf course.  And the old, red brick building near the entrance to the golf course was, I believe, Star Pointer’s stable.  My grandfather’s farm adjoined White’s Stock Farm, and as very little children, we used to watch the horses working out on the race track, from the part of our farm which overlooked the valley. 

The very early years of my life were closely tied to the White’s Stock Farm and White’s Two Minute Villas.  About 1890 a young man (my father) had come from his home on a farm in southern Ohio (New Philadelphia area – his grandfather Mr. Kneisley had earlier founded New Philadelphia)  to manage White’s Tow Minute Villa.  (His brother in law was manager of the Stock Farm and was in sending for Papa.)

Papa met and married a young woman of the community (my mother) and they lived with her parents on a nearby farm where my two sisters, my brother and I were born.

The Villa was a private inn run solely as a place where the Whites could bring and entertain their friends.  It was a rambling wooden structure, the first floor encircled by a wide porch.  There were bedrooms upstairs, and on the first floor, a parlor, dining room and kitchen.   A gramophone with its horn shaped like a morning glory was the outstanding furnishing in the parlor as far as I was concerned.  It stood on a stand near the entrance to the dining room,  and Eli (who was in charge of the dinning room ) spent a great deal of the time holding me up to peer into the horn to find the voice.  How well I remember Eli!  Standing just inside the wide entrance to the dining room, immaculate in the white coat during the day.  Straight and proud in a perfectly tailored black coat for the evening meal, his flashing smile and eep bow welcomed every guest. 

The Villa was known for its service, and its excellent food – its baked whitefish, its steaks, and fried chicken.  Bthe the clambakes in the late summer and early fall were worth coming to.  And come people did!

This was, of course, in the dirt road era before the automobile so Mr. White’s guests were brought to the clambakes in conveyances we call “Tally-Hos”.  These were topless rigs, or carriages with rows of seats along the sides, each carriage having room for eight or ten gaily dressed ladies and men.  Every lady was a Gibson Girl picture in her lace-trimmed dress, huge puffed sleeves, lace-trimmed hat atop a pompadour, and, crowning touch, a lace-trimmed parasol which matched her hat and dress.  The carriages were horse drawn,  and driven by a liveried driver beside whom sat another man in matching livery.  The second man carried a horn on which he blew at intervals.  The sound of the horn never failed to bring us children running to stand wide-eyed at the fence beside the road until the carriages were out of sight around the corner.

Then it was time for us to go into the house to be buttoned into our good dresses so we, too, could go to the clambake.  Later, if we could keep our eyes open, we stayed to watch the dancing and listen to the music of the Andy Braggs’ Band.  No clambake at the Villa was complete unless Any Braggs furnished the music.

These are the gay remembrances of day a half a century ago.  Sometime about 1904 or 1905, Mr. White disposed of both the Farm and the Villa.  His interests were now confined almost entirely to the East.  The Villa became a public road house – both an eye sore and an ear sore to the people of the community.  It burned to the ground a few years later and was never rebuilt. 

Papa’s connection with the Villa stopped when Mr. White sold it.  But I have two very tangible reminders of those gay, long ago days hanging on my wall in my dining room.  There are two very beautiful china plates given to Papa by Miss Josephine, buyer of china and glass ware for the Bowman Company in Cleveland, when he was the manager of White’s Two Minute Villas in old Rockport, Ohio..

The Mentor & Mistress - the story of Daisy Jenks

The Mentor and Mistress

(Alternatively the story of Daisy Jenks)

Recently during lunch at the Union Club, a friend asked me about one of Cleveland’s most influential families; the Van Sweringens.  Without a thought, I said “it’s hard to understand the Vans without first understanding their Mentor and Mistress”.  He was surprised and asked, ‘for both’?  I responded in the affirmative and said she was also married to Ben.  Her name was Louise “Daisy” Davidson Jenks and her story is as important to Cleveland’s history as anyone who has ever lived in Cleveland.  Unfortunately there are few in Cleveland who know of her and most think of her in a poor light.  Hopefully this small piece will shed some light on the importance and influence of this woman and her husband.

Her husband was Ben Jenks and he was quiet and was tall and thin.  Ben was always sure not to eat or drink too much, as the rest of his family were overweight and he didn’t want to become so.  He initially had lumber yard and a development corporation, but went on to law school.  He was old friends with the Vans and became their attorney.

Daisy Davidson became his wife and was the more outgoing of the two.  She was eleven years younger than Ben.  She was a red head and a bright woman who Herbert Harwood described her in his book Invisible Giants,  as a woman who “…had a mind of her own”.   She was not thin however not overly large and was said to have ‘made the most of her looks’.    She was reported to be a red head and when I inquired about this, the response from one of her friends, was ‘it was from a bottle’. 

Daisy and her husband Ben had a land development company and helped the Vans get into development. If you know the history of the Vans Sweringens, you know they built many of Cleveland’s private schools, churches, country clubs and downtown landmarks.   They also laid out many of greater Cleveland’s streets and neighborhoods.  They also remodeled the Greenbrier in West Virginia and it still shows their influence.  However their fortunes did not take off until they began buying railroads.  This was the heyday of railroads and if someone had the brains to run them, they could be a success.  By some accounts they were the largest railroad owners in the country.  It’s been said this was under the tutoring of Daisy and her husband Ben.  As a friend of theirs once stated, “The Jenks were the brains behind the Van’s”. 

Their railroad company was a large company and based in Cleveland.  A descendent of one of the senior executives of the Vanesse Company retold the story that on more than one occasion executives from the company were required to attend a company function.  The entertainment of the evening at the Vaness company function was Daisy dancing.  While most of the executives in attendance were embarrassed or annoyed by the display, the Vans were seated in the front row.

Daisy and her husband Ben initially lived on Lee Rd.   When the Van’s moved to Hunting Valley they moved there.  Many Clevelanders know the Van Sweringens lived in Hunting Valley and on Daisy Hill.  However few realize it was name for Daisy Jenks.  Evidence of this can be found as there is a tunnel between the Jenk’s home and the Van Sweringens home.  This tunnel exists to this day.  No one can be certain what the tunnel was designed for, however according to gossip by at least one of the prominent neighbors it was said, “the one Jenk’s boy certainly resembles the Van’s”.

When it was first mentioned I was writing about Daisy, my friend who knew Daisy, informed me she was wild.  When it was inquired as to why, the response was she had a large nude in her bathroom.  When it commented this was pretty wild, she said I didn’t understand.  When questioned why, the response was the nude painting was of herself.  One can only image what individuals thought of this in the 1920’s and 1930’s. 

During a recent dinner party the above story was told and a woman at the table grew quiet and looked down.  I challenged her and said ‘you know someone who has  this’  She agreed she did.  When I questioned why she did this, the response was simply her friend felt she would never look this good again and wanted to preserve the way she looked.  These are some confident women. 

After the Van’s had passed away and the Jenks down sided they moved to the Moreland Courts apartments.  My aunt visited her there and said the apartment was as big as a house and rather  lavish.  My aunt grew visiting with the Van Sweringen and Daisy’s at their homes and apartments.  Later in life, my aunt’s father would visit Daisy in Arizona.  Daisy had moved there due to her arthritis and because her children lived there.  It’s uncertain if she is buried there or in the Cleveland area.    

There is another story which needs to be mentioned.  There was another Hunting Valley neighbor of the Vans and the Jenks, who was just starting out in building his own vast fortune.  He and his wife were religious individuals and didn’t approve of the Vans’ and the Jenks’ behavior.  During their long lives whenever they had a female dog they always named her ‘Daisy’. 

Many feel Daisy came from a simple or less to do family.  This is not the case as she came from a good family named Davidson and her brother had tremendous success in gold mining in Johannesburg, South Africa.  Her brother would often come back to Cleveland to visit.  A friend who met him, said he was a large man who was ‘filthy rich’. 

Another friend of mine attended medical school in Johannesburg and I asked if there were Davidson’s in Johannesburg.  He said there was a rather prominent family in Johannesburg name Davidson.  I asked if they were still in gold mining and he said they were.  Needless to say he was rather surprised to find they were originally from Cleveland.    

Whatever you might think of Daisy’s personal life, please don’t judge her too harsh.  The influence she had over the Van’s and therefore the shape and building of Cleveland and the surrounding areas was tremendous.  Its a shame more appreciation isn’t given for everything the Van Sweringen’s built and created for the Cleveland area and I hope one day more recognition will be given to these two brothers.  If this is the case, we can only hope some recognition goes to Daisy and her husband for all the assistance they gave to Mantis and Oris. 

Running Hazards

Every long distance runner faces the hazards of cars, animals, weather, terrain and such, however I wondered how many other runners have had trouble with the… police.  Specifically, I am referring to being pulled over for running.  As much as I would like to say it was for speeding, we all know for a 40 something year old running, this is simply not the case.  The cause of our offense was not running in a single file.  While the reasoning behind these laws is understandable, their enforcement leaves something to be desired.  In our case, each of our offenses were either on a 2 or 4 lane road and early on Sunday mornings.  On this stretch of road we were pulled over three times. Each with an interesting story of their own.

Police Encounter Number One

The first time was warm Sunday morning and toward the end of a 14 mile run and on the 4 lane section of road.  As we are cold weather runners, warm weather is particularly hard on us.  Near the end, an older policeman (I believe he was a sergeant) turned on his lights.  Being the only male in the group and the son of a politician, I agreed to speak with him. 

He began easy enough and stated, “There is a law which requires you to be single file” 

I responded “Yes Sir”, and before I tell what I said next, a little background is necessary.

We are fortunate that our town, has 5 roads which intersect the metroparks.  At the time,  there was no sidewalks on any of them.  I had been lobbying the city council for some time to add sidewalks to easily travel the one mile distance to the metroparks.  I would see families driving with their bikes on bike racks to the park to go riding. 

For this reason, my answer was something similar to, “Yes Sir, I understand, but it would be nice if we had some sidewalks”

I am a nice guy but what he said next really put me into orbit.

In the most sarcastic voice imaginable, he stated, “Well we don’t have any, do we?”

As I mentioned, I am nice guy but when he said this I had had enough and after 14 miles of hot weather running, I wasn’t in the mood to put up with smart-aleck remarks.   

So I retorted, “Put some in!!!”  

I waited to a response and while I knew he wanted to say something, there was no response forthcoming.  What I did see was an officer that was moving in his seat, face turning red, and hands gripping the wheel tighter.  He was upset and I believe he was particularly upset as he couldn’t respond to me. So I rejoined my group and we started off.  We were in single file with the middle runner being a little out so as not to trip each other. 

He again pulled up next to us and screamed “I said single file!!!”

“We are” I yelled back.

Shortly we arrived at an intersection and as we were turning east, the light was green and we proceeded.  Our friend from the police was stopped by the perpendicular red light and thought we had crossed through the red light and again turned on his flashers.  We simply ran on and he shortly realized his mistake. 

Now I have the most respect for police officers and appreciate every day the job they do.  That day I simply crossed the line after being a little tired.  I have re-told this story many times and once a friend asked why after being such as smart-ass, I hadn’t been arrested.  After a minute of thought I simply shrugged my shoulders and said, “Probably the only reason I wasn’t arrested is that I smelled too bad and the he didn’t want me in his car”.

Police encounter Number 2:

This was on another Sunday morning run out to the metro parks.  Sure enough a policeman pulled up and this time spoke politely to please run in a single file. Fortunately it was a different police officer and we agreed and kept running. 

 I need to mention, as we are each professionals and parents as soon as any car is in the area we do run single file.  I felt we were being harassed and knew this second occurrence would not be the end of it.  I contacted a couple of media outlets and a few had interest in a story. 

I also checked the city ordnances to make sure there is an ordnance requiring runners to run single file.  Much to my chagrin there is such an ordnance in our town.  To go further I had an attorney friend look into Ohio statutes and found in Ohio runners can not run on interstates and some other information.  Runners in many states don’t have too many rights. 

I had done my home work and the next time I would be ready.  I wanted a ticket. 

Police Encounter Number 3:

This was started innocent enough and on our way to the metro parks, a green pickup truck, slowed down moved toward us.  She moved close to us, so close that she crossed the white line on the side of the road and forced us into the gravel and grass off the edge of the road. When she was right next to us, she sped up.  As this normally happens when there is another car on the other side of the road, I assumed there was car in the other lane and she was simply moving over to be safe from the other vehicle.  I turned to look and unbelievably, there was no other cars on the road.  It seemed that this driver didn’t like runners.

So in my ornery way, I turned around and let her know she was number 1, in a most ungentlemanly way.  The other runners and I ran on talking about how dangerous cars and trucks are to runners. 

Sure enough a mile or two down the road, we get pulled over by a police officer who had his lights flashing and the officer was upset.  He said we weren’t single file and I started to argue.  The officer was argumentative and upset so I knew this wasn’t just about us not running single file, so I asked, “Sir what is this about?”

To which he responded “You flipped off my wife….” 

At this point I couldn’t help but to laugh, which didn’t help matters.  And he yelled, “do you want a ticket?”

As I had already alerted the media, I responded, “Yes”. 

This threw him off and he asked for some id.  I obviously didn’t have any. 

The other runners started lobbying for me not to get a ticket.  I had not forewarned them that I wanted one.  He agreed to let me go.   Not before he started trying to get us riled up by talking about sensitive issues in our town.  We ran on.

While I stated we have been pulled over 3 times, this is not the end of the story.  As I mentioned my father was Mayor and I know the Mayor of our town and was going to call him and complain.  However I thought it was better to start with the Police Chief.  So I called him.

He kept me on hold for about 10 minutes (thank goodness for speaker phones) and finally picked up.

We talked for a while and as he used to be a runner it was a pretty light hearted conversation.  I let him know we didn’t like being pulled over and he stated there had been complaints by doctors, attorneys and other professionals that we were slowing down traffic.  I didn’t challenge him on this but as we run with doctors, attorneys and other professional, and know most are rather accommodating to a 3 to 5 second delay which might be caused by runners. 

I told him I understood that we sometimes might slow down traffic and we do the best we can to avoid that.  But then I asked about those drivers which intentionally slow down and swerve toward the runners. 

In his biggest voice he said, “I want to know about those individuals”

A small smile came over me and I asked, “are you sure?”

He responded, “Yes !!!”

“Okay… there is a woman that works in the police department (I found this out after later) and she drives a green pick up truck and she is married to officer XX.”   There was a pause

 “There is no officer XX”, he responded,

I asked him to check again.

He then said “Oh”, followed by another pregnant pause. 

He quickly ended the phone call and I knew Sunday was going to be an interesting run.

Sure enough on the 1 mile of road to the metro parks, we had 4 police officers pass us and stare at us, but to their credit, none pulled us over.  It’s been four years of running since that phone call and I can happily report, we have not been pulled over since. 

I guess the moral of the story is, if you’re feeling harassed by the police, other drivers or any group or individuals; stand up for your rights and keep your fingers crossed…  Runners have a right to the road when there are no sidewalks or bikepaths.

Good luck and be safe in your running….