The Villager Newspaper Online Your Community News – Cleveland's Westshore
by George Serb
The most memorable people I ever know were Fred Tuttle and his wife “Grannie.”
Our family lived on the east side of north Parkside Drive, and the Tuttles lived in the first house on the north side of Lake Road, east of Parkside, so our back yards joined. We followed a well-beaten path in between – winter or summer.
“Grandpa” Tuttle was from a family of early settlers in North Dover (Bay Village). He was a veteran of the Civil War and held brother Bob and myself spellbound with his vivid war stories. Of course, he told them over and over, and each time they were more interesting.
I was about ten and Bob seven, while Mom Serb was in the living room visiting with Granny. In the winter we did the chores. It took both of us to carry a bucket of coal from the woodshed into the house. Every so often “Grandpa” gave us each a nickel – good money in those days when it would buy a candy bar, bottle of pop or an ice cream cone.
One of the impressive war stories he told about was shaking hands with President Abraham Lincoln. Every time he met us at the door, he would extend his hand and say “Shake the hand that shook the hand of Abraham Lincoln”.
We did know something about President Lincoln. He was responsible for a no school holiday on his birthday, February 12th. Fred’s son, Ben and daughter, Flora Tuttle Renfrew, claimed that he really did meet the President at Gettysburg, being 15 or 16 years old at the time. Mr. Tuttle’s name is on the wall inside the Soldiers and Sailors Monument on Cleveland’s Public Square.
Back in the 1920’s neighborly visits were commonplace. We didn’t have radios or TV’s for entertainment, only wind up Victorolas (talking machines) and a few people had pianos. Granny Tuttle had one, and on summer days when the windows were open, she would play and sing, at the top of her lungs, Civil War songs. Two of which I remember are “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” and “Tenting Tonight on the Old Camp Grounds”. We knew that they must have had an argument. This was her way of letting off steam. Fred would retreat to his woodshed to meditate and their pet parrot would utter “Poor Fred, Poor Fred” every time this happened.
Grandpa Tuttle would often warn us, “When you boys grow up, you will be in a terrible war against the Japanese”. Unbelievable back then. Fred’s uncanny prediction came true. Bob and I both served in W.W.II.
(Ed. Note: This George Serb column first appeared in The Villager Newspaper September 19, 1996).
