Happy birthday, Henry Shoemaker
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I know I write about Henry Shoemaker a lot. I mean, a LOT. Pick up any random three of my columns, and you'll probably see Shoemaker's name mentioned at least six times. He's one of my favorite topics. And, to give the readers credit, nobody has really complained about the frequency. And there are times I feel I'm justified.
Like now, for instance. Feb. 24 is Henry Wharton Shoemaker's birthday.
Henry Shoemaker was a Wayne Township writer, folklorist and ambassador who was born on Feb. 24, 1880. He wrote down many of our local legends, and he was somewhat controversial.
Most of the time, when you bring up Shoemaker, the question of his accuracy comes up. There's been a lot of debate about whether he wrote down real folklore, or just made the stories up. I've advocated that he wrote them down as told to him, and perhaps his sources fictionalized the stories, but I'm not going to rehash that here. Instead, I wanted to address some of the other, non-folklore related things he did.
Shoemaker was an ambassador, heavily involved in politics. He helped out in the World Wars. He was an environmentalist -- Shoemaker was deeply concerned with environmental causes, which was even more impressive considering that it was the early 1900s, and people were still routinely dumping garbage all over the place then. A few of his stories even reflect his environmental views, such as "The Animist Churchwomen of Black Snake Mills." (Don't ask!)
He was kind to the local children. I once interviewed a man who'd grown up down the street from Shoemaker's home. He and his friends had to pass by on the way home from school. Well aware that if Shoemaker saw them walking past, he'd invite them in to see his collections of artifacts, the boys would all walk really slowly past the house to maximize the chances of that happening.
And Shoemaker was a dog person. I've always loved that about him. Half the photos you see of him have him posing with a dog. Probably these were his own pets, but even if he just borrowed one to pose for the photo, that's still pretty impressive. I'm a dog lover myself, and I've always liked how Shoemaker did that.
Shoemaker was such a dog person that he even ran an obit for one of his dogs. In France, he'd gotten a dog he'd named Lew Perkins. Perkins had actually been in the war, and Shoemaker adopted him. When Lew Perkins died at age 15, Shoemaker ran an obituary in one of his newspapers, which I feel was a nice gesture.
"Lew Perkins, the German police dog, owned by Col. H.W. Shoemaker, died on Saturday," the piece read. "The dog was buried in Shoemaker Park, so that the Boy Scouts could visit the grave and pay tribute to a real friend, as this noble friend had become to them during their sojourns at Camp Shoemaker."
I have in my possession a postcard from August of 1915, sent from Connecticut by Henry Shoemaker. On the front, it has a picture of Shoemaker's Connecticut estate, and on the back it's addressed to Nick Montarsi, who seems to have worked for Shoemaker.
It says, "The girls tell me that Paul, the dog, has gone to Avis. Won't you please go after him, as I liked him very much."
Now, take note: Henry Wharton Shoemaker was an important, wealthy man. He had parks and places named after him, and at least one other house in another state, and he owned his own newspapers. And yet, he still cared enough to reach out and make sure his pet was cared for.
Let's face it. In this county, there will always be a fight about Henry Shoemaker. But I feel he was a good guy. And having a dog in the fight is not nearly as nice as having a dog in your life... and Shoemaker understood that. Happy birthday, Henry.
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Lou Bernard is a Lock Haven resident with a keen interest in the history of this area. He is adult services coordinator at Ross Library and may be reached at loulhpa@gmail.com or 570-660-4463.