Sulfur Springs & St. Joseph's Retreat in Dearborn

Note: This letter was written in response to Katherine's request for Dorotha's memories of growing up in Dearborn. It is addressed to Katherine throughout. It is excerpted.

Dorotha remembers the Village of Dearborn in the early 1900's:

North of Dearborn on Military Avenue there was a sulfur spring near the River Rouge which erupted coninually with the most gosh awful smelling sufur water. Folks from Detroit would take the interurban street car out to fill bottles of the stuff -- for medicinal purposes I guess.

West of Dearborn on Michigan Avenue was St. Joseph's Retreat run by Sister Borgia. We loved her and she didn't seem to mind how many times we would walk up with some friend to show what the Retreat was like. The reason we had such an "in" I think was because of grandfather's connection with her. [Grandfather was Elba Howe of what is today Howe-Peterson Funeral Home] When anyone passed on, she would call grandfather, being the only undertaker (now mortician) in town regarding arrangements and such. Each Christmas Sister Borgia would send down to us the biggest most beautifully beribboned box of candy I ever saw.

The Retreat was sort of an AA I think because some would come out there with a drinking problem, as well as those border-lined depressed persons. I remember one good looking fellow coming to the screen door one hot summer afternoon asking if we minded his playing our piano. He played some of Faust Opera and left after mother gave him some lemonade. No one seemed to be afraid in those days. Mother said one time she thought our house must be marked in some way because so many tramps stopped at the back door for food.

Further west were the towns of Inkster and Wayne. The latter place was where mother had to take us on the interurban to the dentist. They didn't have the painless techniques they have now. Enough said.

East of our home on the corner of Michigan Avenue and Howe Street, you walked on planked sidewalks toward town, passing the old Schloss homestead on the corner of Military Avenue and Michigan Avenue. As I remember Mr. Schloss had a large department store further on in town. Later on, Mr. MGreachy, the banker, live there and I remember hearing one day he couldn't locate his little son only to find he was right under his avoirdupois stomach.

Center of town there was the usual meat market where the butcher always gave away the livers and soup bones and always gave us a wiener to eat when we purchased meat. then there was Lapham's Hall, a block off Michigan Avenue where the big boys like your Uncle Harry, your father Edwin, my brother Richard, Charlie Lathers (who later played baseball with the Detroit Tigers) and others played basketball on Saturday nights. We would stand up around the narrow balcony to watch. In this day and age it would be condemned as unsafe because it was far from the legal size and every time the boys would run up against the wall with a bang, the old building would shake and groan. We thought it was hilarious.

That was where the dances were also held. A little further on was the Wagner Hotel run by a Mr. Schultz (I think), a lovely wife and two beautiful daughters. I remember grandfather Elba telling about a dinner Mr. Schultz gave for a favored few after being questioned about wine, saying he could give a dinner with a different wine for each course and no one would feel the effects. And he did, but I question the effects part.

South of Dearborn on a hill was the Snow home. I will never forget those pleasant memories. Your grandmother and my mother were the best of friends. The Snows had a cow, which we didn't, and your grandmother woud invite mother, my sister Arline and I up for eggnogs. Mother would hitch old Doll, our horse, and away we would go. They were delicious.