100+ year-old House Still Stands on Corner

At the Golden R, Mr. Boyer, our former English teacher, asked me, “Didn’t you used to live in that house on the corner that a truck ran into?”

“Well, yes, but that happened before we lived there.” 

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We bought and moved into “that house” at 33 N. Fremont in 1968. The house was over a 100 years-old back then. It was built before they started to keep records. It was through the connections of my grandfather, John DeBoer, to the owner, Herman Schmidt that we bought it. Later we found out that he had promised to sell the house to various other people as well.

We went to the law office of Ed Wolven to sign the purchase papers, expecting to pay $4500. When we got there, we discovered that Mr. Schmidt had told the lawyer to write the papers up for $4700--$200 more than we had agreed upon. He sat there with a cagey smile on his face. What were we to do—insist on a rewrite of the paperwork and risk him walking out on the deal, or should we clench our teeth and sign the papers? We signed.

Mr. Schmidt had originally been a boarder in the house. He worked at one of Wolverine’s factories in town and walked to work. Then he became the common law husband of the owner—or so we were told. He inherited the house when she passed.

When the key was handed to us, we went to inspect more closely just what we had bought. It seems that Mr. Schmidt had climbed out of bed, packed a suitcase of clothes, taken two beer steins that he wanted, and he was gone. We were left with the sheets still on the bed and a house full of antiques. 

Later, Lyle Squires auctioned everything off for us. The proceeds helped us modernize the house. At the time of purchase, the only bathroom fixture was a toilet in the back of a closet, and the closet door had a window in it. The heat was from a space heater, and the kitchen had only cold water.

Oh yes, the bay window was a bit strange as it had just two sides that formed sort of a triangle. That was where the potato truck that Mr. Boyer was asking about had run into the house. US-131 used to run through town and turn at our corner. Apparently when the road was icy it was a difficult corner to make, and the house was run into more than once.

The stable for the horses, complete with hay loft, became our garage. Forrest Rosa helped Ron change the sliding barn door to an overhead door. With a little maneuvering we could get both cars inside. 

We lived there, at the corner of Fremont and Courtland, for seven years. Ron drove to Amway every day where he worked as a Systems Analyst—one of three who originally computerized the company. I taught writing part-time at Cornerstone University, then it was Grand Rapids Baptist College, and I was a substitute teacher at the Junior High School.

Grandma Lyndia Dunn and Mrs. Bessie Tuttle would help with babysitting Fred and Tom, along with neighbor girls, Susie Buyze, Karen Hawkins and a cousin, Vicky Johnson. At one time the girls went on strike until we (all the neighbors with young children) raised their pay to 50 cents/hour.

Neighbors were Audley & Cleo Whitetail, Forrest & Marilyn Roosa, Tom & Susie Sonke, Ken & Joanie Buyze, Luther & Barb Hawkins and the VandenHouts. Wonderful times. Wonderful memories.

Fred started kindergarten at Parkside Elementary. We let him walk to school. He would walk from our corner down to Monroe St. where there was a crossing guard. Then he’d be on his way to school. However, word reached us that he was often late. Upon checking, we discovered that he was stopping to play in the creek by the Community Cabin with Joe Kleefisch. We quickly put an end to that.

The sidewalks of Rockford were so safe, that once we let Fred and Tom go around the block with a wagon full of pumpkins to sell. As far as we could tell, they returned with more money and fewer pumpkins. It didn’t cross our minds to worry, and they loved being entrepreneurs.  

Then there was the dog show at the parking lot of IGA put on by Kennel Ration. Fred, who was all of five years-old, entered Duke, our black and tan hound. He had Duke perform his three tricks: roll over, shake hands and sit up. In the end, we weren’t sure if it was old Duker or young Freddie who swayed the judges and won the grand prize. 

Yes, life was simpler—all except for those new computers that filled an entire room at Amway. If you’d have told us then that we’d each have our own computer one day, and that they’d fit on our desks or our laps, we wouldn’t have believed you. Not even Ron, the computer guru, could see that one coming
 
And so it was in Rockford . . .