The grocery store two days before Thanksgiving typically isn’t a pleasant place. I stopped by my local grocery on the way home last night to pick up supplies for homemade fudge and some random things that I needed to piece together meals for the next couple of weeks.
It was dusk when I arrived and dark by the time I made it to the front door. You see, I’m from a small town so it isn’t uncommon to run into people you know at the store. I ended up deeply entrenched in a conversation about how to address a community need and left with a few notes jotted on the back of my grocery list so I would remember to do some research when I got home.
By the time I made it through the store and encountered acquaintances in about half the aisles, I had several bags of items and it was completely dark outside. As I pushed my cart through the automatic doors, a blast of cool air hit my face, reminding me that it won’t be long before I’ll need to start actually putting on my coat instead of letting it ride around in the car. There are people in my community who will go without decent coats and shoes this winter and I briefly wondered what resources there are for those folks right now.
I rounded the corner to find an Amish buggy just a couple of spaces down from my White Lightening. The horse snorted and sighed and I could see warm breath rise from its nostrils. These are unexpectedly pleasant sounds and sights at unexpected times.
Another buggy was entering the parking lot as I exited, making me wonder how many Amish neighbors we now have and if there are things we ought to be doing as a community to make things safer and more welcoming for them. Do they feel as welcome as I do?
As a community member, I think it’s important to participate and to be useful in whatever way you can. That could be through monetary donations, volunteerism, or just making others feel like they belong. Is there a need in your community? Maybe you have a lonely neighbor or your church has ways for you to get involved to give back. There are tons of local nonprofits, schools and other groups that badly need volunteers. Maybe you can just smile and say a kind word to strangers.
Community is what you make it. Gandhi told us to “be the change you want to see in the world.” If we all worked a little harder to contribute here and there, this world would be a much better place.
If you were an American soldier during World War II and were transported by rail, the journey could be long and the passenger cars cramped. If you were leaving home for the first time to be sent off to a training camp or to one of the coasts to ship out, odds are you were nervous, homesick and scared.
If you were fortunate enough to travel the Pennsylvania Railroad between Columbus, Ohio and Pittsburgh, your train stopped for water at the Dennison, Ohio Depot for about five minutes. That doesn’t sound like much time but it was plenty of time for volunteers in Dennison to make such an impression on the soldiers they would nickname the place Dreamsville, USA.
Today, the story of what went on here at the nation’s third largest World War II canteen is told at the Dennison Railroad Depot Museum. This is a significant landmark especially since the other two largest canteens – in North Platte, Nebraska and New York City’s Stage Door Canteen – are gone and mere memories.
On New Year’s Eve 1941, Dennison resident Mrs. Lucille Nussdorfer witnessed several trains full of soldiers stop for only a few minutes before moving down the track. She said the young men on board looked hungry and tired. She told others that something had to be done to raise the morale of the troops and to show support for the war effort. Before long she was mustering her own army of local politicians, organizations, housewives and anyone else willing to help.
And help they did.
Over four years, nearly 4,000 women volunteered to make sure that no soldier left Dennison, Ohio without feeling the gratitude and kindness they hoped would be extended to their own fathers, brothers and sons.
Every soldier received a cup of coffee, sandwich, fruit and dessert like a cupcake or cookie. Sometimes there were magazines, chocolate bars and packs of gum too. It was all free.
If the troops weren’t permitted to get off the train, volunteers would board the train to pass out food, sometimes getting stuck until they reached the next station several miles away. Yet no soldier left Dreamsville empty handed and volunteers contributed the best they could make, buy or find. Whether it was peanut butter or ham, these volunteers made sure their boys were well fed. Some received Christmas presents. Some received the addresses of pretty girls who would be their pen pals. At least one set of these pen pals were eventually married.
This museum has a lot of fine items, photos and quotes on the wall that tell the history of the Dennison Depot including the contributions of this canteen. However, there was just one thing that stopped me dead in my tracks and it is something that I will always remember as the most important item in their collection.
It’s a sandwich wrapper made of wax paper and printed with a holiday message from the Salvation Army. But it’s more than that. It’s a monument to how important these canteens were to the 1.3 million troops they entertained and fed. All told, 13 percent of American Armed Service personnel during that time passed through Dreamsville.
According to the plaque beneath this sandwich wrapper, a gentleman showed up at the museum during the 50th anniversary of World War II and donated this artifact. He was one of the troops who was given a free sandwich during a stop here. He kept the bag, carried it with him through the war and kept it for the next fifty years as a symbol of the generosity and care and respect he received during his brief visit here.
Imagine what that must have meant to him, what it must have meant to all those individuals who benefited from the amazing things that went on at this depot and in this small town. And why did all those troops get the royal treatment that can only be found in a small town? Because one woman saw sadness and hunger among young men who were serving a cause much larger than themselves and she decided to embrace another cause that was much bigger than herself.
Never underestimate the power of one person on a crusade. Never underestimate the strength of a woman with a passion for service. Never underestimate the significance of a simple sandwich bag to someone in need of compassion.
As an aside, kudos to this museum for labeling everything so clearly and for telling the stories that humanize history and leave you excited to know more. I recently visited the Ohio History Center and realized that our state’s historical society does an absolutely terrible job with this very thing. Every time I think about that, I remember the Dennison Depot for doing so much better.
After all, history is about the people – not the presence of an artifact. The story here isn’t just the sandwich wrapper. The story is about the man who saved it, who kept it safe and who wanted to bring it back for generations to know how important this place was to him. It’s about the woman who saw a need and who convinced others to follow her. It’s about the people who worked together to make something magical happen that is still inspirational these eighty years later.
Without knowing this story, it would just be an old piece of wax paper with a Salvation Army holiday greeting on it. With the story, it lends insight into a world that would otherwise be lost to time. What a difference!
I’m fortunate to work for a company that encourages community involvement among employees. Last week, my department volunteered at an organization that serves local senior citizens. Here I met two very sweet ladies who I’m still thinking about days later.
I stopped by yesterday to drop off some prizes for bingo and Christmas cards for the ladies. One of them was there, providing opportunity to sit and visit a while.
She’s 96 and still lives alone. She cleans her home, orders her own medicine and is quite proud of her independence. Her grown children help with her laundry but she shakes her head and frowns when she admits they don’t want her going to the basement anymore.
Someone else cuts the grass now. She stopped gardening two years ago but has no intention of slowing down in any other way.
When asked her secret to a long life, she said that staying active and social has kept her going. She also advised living below your means and saving as much as possible. She doesn’t have a large income but says she doesn’t have to worry.
First of all, she is the sweetest lady and I was happy to talk with her. More importantly, she seemed happy to have someone to listen. It took no effort to sit there for a few minutes and show interest in what she had to say. And yet, I walked away with a wealth of wisdom and the feeling that the conversation had made a difference to us both.
It was one of the most positive human interactions I’ve had in a long time and I’m grateful for it. Older folks have wisdom to share and can benefit from having someone to talk with. Never discount the value of a friendly conversation.
