Ramona: Memorial Day observed
By JESSICA GILBERT
Ramona correspondent
(785) 965-2621
Abundant with memories, Memorial Weekend in Ramona was one of those experiences "where you just had to be there" to appreciate the abundance of it all. Our population nearly tripled as guests from all over the country converged for memorial services, family and high school reunions, graduations, and other memorable life events.
I've been sitting in front of my computer for nearly an hour, staring at the pile of notes stacked on my desk — where to begin? These notes, rapidly scrawled on computer paper, the back of the alumni reunion program, a tablet that somebody loaned me that has the inscription "With God all things are possible," (which gives me hope that with some divine assistance, I might indeed get a column written today). Each hold a key to stories and memories that are puzzle pieces of the past.
For my sister and I, the big weekend started with guests arriving at our bed and breakfast. When descendants of the Godfrey and Melinda Bernhardt family came to the area for their family reunion, three sisters decided to stay at our B&B just to experience the Ramona of their childhood, when they'd come visit their grandparents who resided here.
When I walked into Cousin's Corner to deliver groceries and found the sisters — Jolinda Hilburn, Daphne Martin, and Anita Atchison — heading for the house basement I was immediately curious. Was there a tornado warning that I didn't know about? Certainly the basement wasn't the most stunning part of the house. Good thing I swept out some of the cobwebs the day before.
"Oh, we just had to check it out because this house reminds us so much of our grandma's house," they chimed in unison. And to hear their laughter, you'd think they were little girls again.
On Sunday morning I heard their stories as I make pancakes for breakfast. "I remember Grandma getting up and cooking breakfast," said Pat, Jolinda's husband, and smiles erupted around the table as the sisters interjected important details.
"Wasn't it around four in the morning?" said one. "Seemed like it!" said another. "She'd rattle pots and pans," continued Pat, "as though to say 'I'm up, why aren't you?'" And everyone laughed in remembering.
At our other guest house, Jake's Place, a California family secretly arrived in town to surprise Jaimie Plank, who was graduating from Bethel College last Sunday.
Jaimie's sister, Coleen Ashley, orchestrated the surprise, bringing along her husband and her mother, Marcella Meyer. "I wondered if something wasn't up," said Jaimie, "when my mom wouldn't commit one way or the other about coming to my graduation. That wasn't like her."
Jaimie went to work two days after graduation. She's a social worker for Child Protection Services in Junction City.
"We're still here!" Saturday evening was the 67th alumni reunion for Ramona Rural High School. This reunion is a unique one, since there are never any additional graduates joining the party. When the school closed in 1958 to consolidate at Centre, that was the end of graduating classes from Ramona High.
Since the reunion is held only every three years, the group experiences quite a few losses between one reunion and another. "No one's livin' on these two pages," Hank Schubert was heard to exclaim as he reviewed the Alumni Directory.
"We lost seven people since last reunion," said Jim Socolofsky, president of the alumni association. But despite the losses, there was still a group of over 95 who gathered to celebrate their high school experiences in Ramona. There were even guests who weren't graduates — like BJ Riddle and his wife, Phyllis, from Texas — who nevertheless came along to enjoy the event with a parent, aunt, or uncle.
The oldest living graduates of Ramona High School happen to be sisters and both were at the reunion dinner — Irma Danitschek Kohls and Reneta Danitschek Johnson, both of Herington. Both graduated in 1927.
"Graduating with my younger sister makes it sound like I failed a year," said Irma, "but actually my dad was the teacher and whatever I did, my little sister, Reneta, had to do too, so we started school together the same year."
"We were wild in high school," laughed Miriam Bura Riddle, Class of 45, as she, Joyce, and Betty posed for a picture.
"Who's 'we'?" I asked. "Oh, me, my sister Esther, Joyce (Anderson-White), Lela (Kahns-Denton), Edwina (Benhardt-Wendt), and Betty (Weber-Stenzel)," she replied.
"They ran Wally Walker to death," teased Hank Schubert, who was listening as the gals swapped stories. "Wally would take us places in his car," admitted Miriam. "His folks ran the filling station in Hope so he had access to gasoline, and he'd drive us wherever we needed to go." Delores Utech Siggs, Class of '53, traveled from Goddard to attend. "I was out mowing the farm earlier today," said Delores. She and her husband Ernie were spiffing up the Utech farmstead west of Ramona, in preparation for the June 2nd family reunion.
"We made our little sister, Grace, clean the old outhouse," said Delores. "It's so clean you could take a white glove to it," chimed in Ernie. The Utech outhouse is quite an edifice — it has three seats, one is lower than the others, just for the youngsters.
After the graduates, family, and friends had a delicious meal catered by Barb's Restaurant in Herington, the group conducted their business meeting and elected new officers. Pat and I were honored to have a few minutes on the program to tell the graduates about the "goings on" in Ramona, giving folks a chance to subscribe to the town newsletter and inviting their stories.
"We're also here to represent our parents, Laurel and Martha Schubert Ehrhardt, who graduated from the Class of 1934, but couldn't attend the reunion," said Pat.
One of the official actions taken during the business meeting was approving hiring Pat and I to help orchestrate the next high school reunion in 2005. We're honored to be assisting these new officers who were elected that evening: Mervin Deines of Ramona, president; Pastor Eugene Hicks of Herington, vice president; Anna Mae Stika of Tampa, secretary-treasurer; and Mildred Sader Rowe of Herington, assistant secretary-treasurer.
"We presented the idea of having Pat and Jess help with the next reunion because the burden for all the arrangements and details year after year rests on folks who live in the area," explained Jim Socolofsky. "As we all get older and busier, we realized we could use some help."
Entertainment for the reunion was provided by the Rev. Charles Norman of Herington. He focused his remarks on the idea that it isn't what we accumulate in life that counts, but the dignity of how we live our lives. He challenged everyone to still nurture their dreams, no matter what their age.
And a couple brave souls at our table — Hank Schubert and Warren Fike — attempted to sing the school song. No class song from Kansas would be complete without reference to weather. "Through all kinds of weather, we will jog along together, true and faithful may we ever be."
Not many of the graduates are jogging these days, but it doesn't really matter because the "true and faithful" is the most important part and they'll be doing that as long as they live!
"Memorial Memories Memorial Day" is one of my favorite events in Ramona because so many folks invest in it, year after year. Some folks even made a pilgrimage out of it, walking down the road toward Lewis Cemetery, instead of driving.
Brilliant blue skies, the wind flapping the flag, folks sitting and standing amongst the gravestones — all this was a backdrop for the color guard from the 184th Bomb War Honor Guard of the Kansas Air National Guard.
The Bernhardt family was responsible for creating this year's memorable service. Seven of the original 11 siblings of Godfrey G. and Melinda Bernhardt are alive and all were present at Lewis Cemetery last Monday.
John Bernhardt of Wichita wove together musical tributes by David Bernhardt of McPherson (son of David C. Bernhardt), and another musical tribute, "God Bless the U.S.A.," filled the morning air as John's wife, Lee, inspired us all to want to sing along to "I'm proud to be an American," familiar lyrics, since Lee Greenwood's song has become so prominent since 9-11.
"Today, I'm a veteran," she quipped, as she sat in a wheelchair with her leg in a caste. "Four weeks ago I broke my ankle, but I was determined to continue with our commitment to do the service in Ramona," she said.
Owen, another Bernhardt brother, who made his career in the U.S. Air Force, addressed the assembled crowd, beginning with a brief history of Memorial Day.
Owen commented about the large crowd gathered at Lewis Cemetery to honor veterans. "There's probably three times the population of Ramona standing here today," he said. And he compared this impressive crowd with the rather meager crowds that gather in Washington, D.C., despite the millions who live there.
"So why do we celebrate this holiday?" Owen asked. "Because sacrifice is meaningless without remembrance."
He spoke eloquently about those who fought for freedom, despite differences of religion, race, background, beliefs and philosophies. "What cemented us all together, was one thing — love of country," said Owen.
When the service closed, folks adjourned to the Ramona Park for the annual picnic. As if right on cue, a B1 bomber came ripping through the still noon air, making all of us stop dead still, as we each tried to determine the source of the rumble. The massive bomber darkened the sky overhead as it shadowed the sunlight, and we knew that the impressive "fly by," arranged by John Bernhardt, had arrived.
Streets were jammed with cars, the lawn clustered with clumps of tables and lawn chairs, and the scent of fried chicken filled the air. "We figured there were probably close to 200 people, given the plate count," said Donita Ryff, president of the Ramona Improvement Committee that orchestrates this annual event.
The committee, formerly known as the Ramona Centennial Committee, is comprised of Donita Ryff, Warren Fike, Orvell Brunner, Barbara Hanschu, and Betty Ohm, who all recruited family and friends to help serve the large crowd.
It was great seeing Donita back in Ramona again. She's been missed this last year while she was in Colby going to school. She's working now in Salina on her internship at Salina Physical therapy for five weeks and then to Penn Campus Rehab. "I'll be finished in August," reports Donita, and she'll have her degree as a physical therapist's assistant.
Nobody went away from this picnic hungry — some of us went through line twice. While folks nibbled and sampled, I got to hear more stories from visiting guests.
Although I met several Bernhardt brothers, I hadn't met the oldest living brother — Daryl, from Albuquerque, N.M. "Put up your right hand and swear to tell the whole truth," teased John when he introduced Daryl to me.
Daryl lived in Ramona until 1951 when he left at 19 to enter the service. He, like Owen, made the military his career.
"The biggest activity of Ramona came once a year," said Daryl, who eagerly agreed to tell me stories from his youth. The event he refers to is Halloween! "We had a principal, Mr. Dresher, that became the brunt of many jokes and pranks," confessed Daryl.
Now, Mr. Dresher lived in the house on B street where Harry Cheever now lives. "The principal had an outhouse," Daryl continued, "and we boys loved moving it — thereby causing Mr. Dresher to have a couple of close calls," and nearly fall into the outhouse pit as he wandered out at night to go to the bathroom.
"Did you ever get caught for these pranks?" I asked. "I was the instigator of the pranks, not a participant," confessed Daryl. "And if the principal did find out, we never had to pay the price!"
Dirt gamblers for years — my sister and I have conspired with our aunt Gertie Schubert, to create a little museum in Ramona. After all, Gertie's house has become a museum in itself, with all the artifacts she's collected over the years.
But, where to house the collections? Well, that problem was solved recently when the Tampa State Bank offered to give the bank to Pat and me. We've had our office in the bank for two years and after the bank closed, Chris Costello proposed the idea of us taking over the building. "We know you girls will do good things for Ramona with the building," said Chris, Tampa State Bank president.
We've affectionately called the museum portion of our office, "The Dirt Gambler Museum." This name springs from a collection of local stories we've been compiling.
Several years ago, Myron Bentz grinned and said, "You've got to be a bit of a gambler to enjoy farming," and we walked away saying to each other, "That's it! A great name for a book about the people who've lived in the area."
The museum was open on Memorial Day afternoon and what fun to see the bank filled with folks pointing at pictures, laughing, and telling stories. By the old bank safe, a brisk discussion was taking place about the number of times the bank had been robbed.
By the Ramona High School pictures, Loren Brunner was telling his grandson Nolan stories from his youth. In the back room of the bank we installed a school display — basically we dismantled our Aunt Gertie's "School Corner" from her house. Clumps of folks huddled around old class photographs labeling the mass of unknown faces.
Glenn Bernhardt's son Will brought his mom and aunt to the museum. Glenn, nicknamed "Curly," was the last barber in Ramona. "Every Friday, whether I needed it or not," recalled Will, "I had to leave straight from school and go get a hair cut."
"I miss the good old days," said Rachel Bernhardt Lais when she looked at the displays. "What made them good?" I queried. "Surely you don't miss washing clothes by hand or having no refrigerator?"
Rachel was silent for a moment; I could tell she was sorting through her memories. "I miss how people associated more back then. Everybody came into town on Saturday night to do their trading, and they'd get together and visit. That's what I miss."
I remembered that a couple of days later when I was out mowing lawns and Betty Ohm and her dog Millie were out for a walk. I almost kept mowing, because I had two more lawns to mow before dark. I nearly settled for a wave, instead of honestly connecting, then I remembered Rachel's comment.
I stopped the mower and took time for a chat. I found out that Betty started her training this last week to be the relief postmaster in Ramona. "I decided to take the job because ever since we sold the cafe, I've missed seeing people. I used to know everybody's name in town, and I knew what was all going on." Indeed, Betty's cafe was here in Ramona so long that we thought of it as Ramona's "living room."
Now that we have no restaurants open in town, the post office is the official and regular gathering place of Ramona citizens. Once more, Betty's familiar face will be seen.
And that's the news from Ramona where, once everybody went home, a traffic jam was two parked cars and a dog in the street.
