Just Yesterday

I never met Chuck Berry but, like all kids from the Fifties and Sixties, I knew him through his hit songs.
His music was brought to mind after hearing that Berry died at the age of 90 in his Missouri home. His funeral is planned for April 9 in St. Louis.

A few years ago, I went to his home, although uninvited but not looking for an autograph or photo op. I happened to be in Missouri on a research mission and a local historian was showing me some of the historical sights of the area around Wentzville in St. Charles County.

“Want to see where Chuck Berry lives?”

I didn’t even know he was still alive, I mean he was kind of old when I was a kid, but I said, “sure.”

We drove way out in the country and stopped in sight of a sprawling brick ranch house with a long wrought-iron fence with wide brick posts. The front gate was closed although there was no sign of guards.
“I think he’s about 85 or so and doesn’t get out much anymore,” my guide said.

I supposed that at one time he had enough money to hire a crew of gardeners and grounds keepers, but obviously not for some time. The place looked okay from a distance, but a closer view showed the grounds needed tending and the fence required some repair.

  “This was some place in its time,” he said. “Parties all the time and that’s how he got into so much trouble. Kids from the town would come out, underage girls especially, and that caused bad feelings from their folks.”

He said some of it was due to the fact that Berry was black and the local kids were white, but it also was a fact that he was a man in his thirties entertaining teenagers.

Of course, his music was aimed at underage kids for the most part.

When I first heard Chuck Berry songs—“Johnny B. Goode,” and “Sweet Little Sixteen”—no one thought he was as old as he was. It would have been kind of creepy for a 32-year-old to have the hots for a girl on her 16th birthday.

He also delved farther into the creepy world with upbeat love songs about “Carol,” Beautiful Delilah,” and “Little Marie.”

His attraction for young girls caused him even more problems. During that time, Berry had bought a nightclub in nearby St. Louis and was quite successful until he was arrested for transporting a 14-year-old girl across state lines for immoral purposes, supposedly to work in his club. Regardless of his reason, he was sent to prison under the Mann Act.

After several appeals, he eventually served 18 months in prison.

He tried over the years to endear himself to the townspeople in Wentzville by buying and distributing bicycles to underprivileged kids each Christmas, although it often was met with skepticism, according to my guide.

Still, he was known and liked around the world and had many songs in the top 40 with a few going all the way to the top on the R&B charts. His humorous songs, too, were memorable, such as his Christmas hit “Run Run Rudolph” and familiar teen anthem of “No Particular Place To Go,” not to mention his curious offering in 1972 of “My Ding-A-Ling.”

He was an inspiration to many other performers including The Beatles who had a big hit with Berry’s smash hit “Roll Over Beethoven.” I’m sure his homecoming tune of “Back in the U.S.A.” when he returned from his British concerts suggested The Beatles’ “Back in the USSR.”

Berry’s first hit of note was “Maybellene” in 1955 which foreshadowed his 1964 offering of “Nadine (Is That You?).”

His body of work, which garnered him the nickname “The Godfather of Rock and Roll,” also was his ticket into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, being in the first class ever enshrined in 1986.

Despite his personal shortcomings, Berry was a true pioneer in R&B and Rock-n-Roll compositions, plus he did offer a stage presence that was polished enough to cross over onto the big screen in which he appeared in several rock movies.

And who could possibly not recall his appearances without commenting on his famous “duck walk” in which he skipped across the stage, back and forth, playing the guitar while more-or-less throwing his knees out of whack. He also incorporated the splits while gyrating in the middle of one of his big hits. Those were things he had to do in every performance or the fans would have felt cheated.

In short, to paraphrase his song: He could play a guitar just like ringing a bell—Go, Chuckie, Go.

Over the years we have found all sort of interesting life stories of local residents, although sadly the public only learns of their feats in an obituary notice.

That was the case of West Bay City resident Louis Reip, who was most likely the oldest man in the Saginaw Bay region at 105 years, who passed away May 3, 1903. We mark the 113th anniversary of his passing.

As a centenarian, Reip may have had any number of life stories and adventures to tell, but the one that might be the most interesting was as a teenage soldier he fought against French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte at the Battle of Waterloo.

And he carried the scars to prove it.

Reip was born in Blessberg, located in Thuringia and part of the Kingdom of Prussia, on April 5, 1798. At 17, he joined the army just as Napoleon was moving his army east to fight the coalition of England and Prussia and other allies.

He was assigned to a fighting division under Field Marshal Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher and saw combat first at the Battle of Ligny on June 16, 1815 and two days later at the decisive Battle of Waterloo. It was there Reip suffered a severe wound to his right hand by a French saber, which rendered his hand nearly useless for the rest of his life.

Still, Reip stayed in the army for six years, also fighting with the division in Denmark. During a battle there, he musket ball struck him in the left leg and he was stranded on the field for nearly 12 hours among his fallen comrades. In fact, he was found alive by a crew sent out to bury the dead soldiers and was taken back to his unit for medical care.

He was married in 1842 and in 1852 moved his family to Canada where he worked as a shoemaker for many years. He relocated to West Bay City in 1887, most likely because two of his sons and a daughter lived here. He resided with his daughter’s family at 207 S. Park St. (S. Warner St.) and later with son Charles’ family at 315 S. Catherine St.

According to a news account, “Mr. Reip, who was a familiar figure on the streets, was up and out of doors Saturday, but was not feeling well, having suffered from two or three congestive chills.” He passed away in his bed later that night.

While his wife had passed away years earlier, Reip was survived by sons John Reip, of Flint; Charles and Henry Reip, of West Bay City; and Mrs. James Cass, of West Bay City; and Mrs. Murphy, of Chicago.

A funeral mass was held in St. Mary’s Catholic Church with burial in St. Patrick Cemetery.

(This column includes corrected information from its earlier publication on construction of the ships.)

Fire was the ever-present fear for those who owned or worked in the scores of sawmills up and down the Saginaw River in the 19th century.

With thousands of machines and saw blades whirling and whining, any spark could ignite the tons of sawdust that accumulated in mountainous stacks. Some fires became major disasters as the one in 1892 that engulfed nearly 50 square blocks of the South End killing one resident and leaving hundreds of families homeless.

Each month, it seemed, fires big and small tasked the fire departments on both sides of the river to their limits, and it was with extreme bravery that the firemen were able to limit the damage and loss of life.

Besides the lumber industry, West Bay City, the community opposite its big brother on the east side of the river, was home to the largest shipbuilding operations in Michigan. Between the two major shipbuilders, Wheeler and Davidson, most of the best and larges Great Lakes ore and freight carriers plying the waters were constructed here.

Tons of lumber were needed to construct the ship’s superstructure and interior, from pilot house on down to the sub-decks and frame. Davidson’s yard produced some of the largest wooden ships ever built on the Great Lakes.

To plane and cut the lumber to size required a major supply of raw-cut wood, sawyers, and planing mill operators. So the possibility of fire also was a danger in the shipyards.

One hundred twenty years ago this month, the Davidson shipyard could have disappeared in smoke and flames except for the extraordinary efforts of local firefighters.

Shortly after noon on April 21, 1896 flames ignited near one of the kilns being operated to treat the wood ribs and quickly spread, engulfing two kilns and then the planing mill itself. According to news accounts, a general fire alarm was sounded and three West Bay City fire companies responded.

Two of the hose companies arrived first to put water on the growing conflagration with the other minutes later, and then two more companies from Bay City responded to assist.

One of the ships under construction, a schooner identified only as “No. 73” had been due for launching and stood on the stocks within 30 feet of the burning mill. The framework of the 285-foot keel caught fire, but firefighters quickly doused the flames limiting the damage.

Officials said the repairs could be made including scraping of the hull and the delayed launch would take place.

An investigation was ordered to determine the exact cause of the fire. Damages were sizeable, estimated to be $20,000.

Shipbuilding had been one of Bay City’s most lucrative industries next to the lumbering business, and local residents certainly have heard the names Davidson, Wheeler, and Defoe.

While these were major local shipbuilding magnates, another name of a pioneer some might not recognize is George F. Williams.

According to an 1893 biographical sketch in a book on the history of Saginaw and Bay Counties, Williams was an accomplished shipbuilder, having worked in all phases of the construction process in the Buffalo, N.Y. area. He was born on Sept. 27, 1835, the son of a cooper in Cazenovia, N.Y., Williams received his education in Rochester.

He first worked as a ship carpenter, hiring on a crew in 1851 in Buffalo. He worked his way up over the following 15 years to assistant superintendent of the Union Dry Docks, a firm that had flourished from the days of the War of 1812.

In 1886, Williams relocated to West Bay City, the local shipbuilding center, and became a partner of F. W. Wheeler who had a large shipbuilding concern northeast of the railroad yards in the West Bay City “Banks” district.

He also convinced Wheeler to expand his business but to gain more contracts capital had to be raised, so he urged a stock company be formed. That occurred in 1888 with Wheeler as president, and Williams as vice-president and superintendent of the yards. Other officers were F. L. Gilbert, secretary, and John R. Goodfellow, treasurer.

The restructuring meant Williams was in charge of actually constructing the ships, ordering materials, hiring construction crews, and overseeing the projects to the finished product, while Wheeler was the lead businessman, meeting with potential customers including government agencies, securing and signing contracts, designing specifications, and arranging the delivery of the ships.

The normal number of men employed in the Wheeler yards was 500 to 600, making it one of the larger employers in the Bay Cities, but during peak construction work, the number doubled to as many as 1,200.

Williams also established the company’s large dry-dock facility, allowing the firm to repair river and Great Lake vessels, large and small, further increasing the company’s bottom line. The firm secured numerous government contracts such as one in 1892 in which four light ships were constructed.

That same year, the company built a large wooden freighter and several steamers.

It was the driving force of Williams prolonging the life of the shipbuilding company for more than decade after joining the partnership.

He was married to Jane Tripp, of Rochester, N.Y. in 1863, and they had one son, George Jr. who later went to work for his father in Wheeler’s steel department.

They resided in a comfortable home at 211 King St. in West Bay City, and were members of the Presbyterian Church. Williams also was a member of the DeMolay Lodge 498, F. & A. M. of Buffalo.

Mrs. Williams died in 1901, while he survived her until 1908. They are buried in Brookside Cemetery in Watertown, N.Y.