Meet the Roberts Family
It's marked as one of the first houses in that area of Venice, built much before their time there.
Later, in 1962, they relocated to their current residence in Ross Manor, also known as Treeland, situated at the intersection of Cypress Lane and Birch Drive.
I remembered them from when I was a kid, as an elderly couple living where they do now, so I just casually knocked. Jo Ann answered the door with a curious, but not standoffish look. She stands about 4 feet tall and weighs maybe 100 pounds. Her glasses fit snugly around her nose, and the beads on her glasses strap matched her colorful dress shirt. I explained my purpose and asked if they minded if I interviewed them. Jo Ann unhesitatingly nudged the screen door open and said, "Come on in!"
Originally hailing from Springfield Township, located east of Brookville IN, she was raised with mostly boys and worked on the farm beside them.
John, remarkably alert at his old age, shared that he grew up on a farm in Lawrenceburg, Indiana. One notable challenge he faces is his hearing loss. Pointing at his right ear, he mentioned, "I have one hearing aid left in there, but it echoes for some people." Despite his hearing problem, I found myself practically yelling to communicate with him. I wondered if my voice was echoing, but he reassured me that it wasn't.
I was truly amazed by John's vitality, even at over 100 years old. He expressed feeling like he could live another hundred years! With wide eyes, a straight posture, a deep voice, and a splendid appearance in his fancy toupee, he exuded wisdom and energy.
As he recounted his upbringing, Jo Ann attempted to interject and correct him, but her soft-spoken voice went unheard. Frustrated, she persisted until, with a hint of exasperation, she exclaimed, "Dad!!", capturing his attention and he immediately stopped talking.
Taking the lead, Jo Ann proudly narrated John's tales, occasionally slipping in subtle hints about herself but predominantly focusing on her husband's stories. She particularly emphasized John's impeccable style, noting three times his habit of rolling up his sleeves, as she pretended to roll up her sleeves each time, a detail that had charmed her in those days.
Jo Ann fondly reminisced about the first time she and John crossed paths. She recounted how they initially met in Whitcomb, Indiana, during a time when Saturday nights were bustling in town. She and her sister were strolling down the road when John and one of his friends pulled over and offered them a ride. Jo Ann chuckled as she described John's friend as "you know, he was kinda" raising her hand to the side of her mouth as if she was telling a secret, she bashfully continued explaining "geeky" as she smiled.
She admitted that both she and her sister were interested in John, with her sister perhaps harboring a secretive everlasting attraction. Despite the initial encounter, although they stuck around and chatted for a while, they didn't join the gentlemen in their car.
However, fate had other plans, and they later crossed paths again at a dance hall in Cedar Grove, Indiana. Jo Ann smiled as she recalled the moment, noting that while John was a sharp guy, he didn't dance. When I asked her if their second meeting was a coincidence, she simply replied, "it just happened."
Their marital journey brought them five children, but tragically, only one son survived. One child passed away at birth, and three others succumbed as toddlers due to complications related to incompatible blood types between John and Jo Ann. Their surviving son, Allen, seems to be following in his father's footsteps, healthy and now in his 70s.
During my interview with his parents, he coincidentally stopped by to do a routine checkup on them. He likely noticed my unfamiliar roofing truck parked in their driveway, which might have prompted his visit. As he walked in, I was seated on the floor in the center of his parents, who were both in rocking chairs in front of me. I looked up, smiled, and jokingly said, "Hey, I'm here trying to sell them a metal roof!" He immediately gave me a stern look and waved his finger to decline, saying "No!" in a firm tone.
I quickly clarified the joke, and it turned out he was quite a history buff. He sat down and joined the conversation, although I suspected he was mostly supervising the interview for his elderly parents. However, before he knew it, he was just as engrossed in the discussion as they were!
As Allen reminisced about his childhood, I discreetly listened, knowing his mom had already shared much of his history with me before his arrival. He mentioned being the first graduate of the second Ross High School in 1970, now serving as the middle school. His senior class only spent half the year at the newly built high school; the rest was at the original Ross High School, now the intermediate school. Allen attended grades 1 through 12 there, except for the fourth grade when he temporarily attended Morgan Township due to overcrowding during the first high school's renovations. Jo Ann worked as a 'room-mother' during Allen's schooling years.
In her role as a 'room-mother', Jo Ann assisted the teacher and kept an eye on the kids from the back of the classroom. She also rode the school bus to monitor the children during transit. She said when Allen got onto the bus in the mornings, she did also. Meanwhile, John dedicated himself to his work.
Additionally, Jo Ann briefly worked as a part-time waitress at the Venice Pavilion. She recalled the 1957 tanker crash that occurred in front of the Pavilion, just a quarter mile from their former residence with the big red barn.
In the chaotic aftermath of the crash, Paul Fiehrer, the owner of the Pavilion, took swift action, bustling around the crowd to offer jobs to those in need. Jo Ann seized this opportunity and accepted his offer.
Both Jo Ann and Allen became aware of the crash due to the billowing black smoke visible in town. They mentioned that they, along with their neighbors, appeared in some of the photos featured in the newspaper articles covering the 1957 tanker crash. They were standing alongside what was then Zehenni Drug Store.
After Jo Ann secured a job at the Venice Pavilion, Allen often accompanied her, spending time at the restaurant until her shift ended. He mentioned that not much out of the ordinary occurred during their time there, though he admitted to never venturing into the other sections of the Pavilion.
They also vividly recalled the 1959 flood, which surged up to the intersection near the Venice Pavilion. Fortunately, their house remained unaffected by the floodwaters due to the hill behind it.
In 1962, they made the move to Treeland, becoming one of the pioneering families in the neighborhood. The house, constructed two years prior by local builder Clyde Morris of School Road, stood in front of a vast cornfield at the time. Today, behind their home, houses stretch for a third of a mile. John noted that the gravel in the area ran deep—around 200 feet—and speculated that if their house wasn't built there, the location might have become Watson's gravel pit.
John and Jo Ann didn't often participate in casual town events, but John leaned in, his elbows resting on his long legs, and cheerfully mentioned, "but I did love the sweet corn festivals!"
On the other hand, Allen frequented Meadowbrook Pool, recalling Sundays when you could swim all day for just twenty cents per person. He mentioned how the YMCA promoted the program for less fortunate kids.
At 100 years old, John still holds a valid driver's license, although he chooses not to drive anymore, he told me with certainty "I could if I wanted to".
Jo Ann stopped driving three or four years ago.
He also battled skin cancer 17 years ago, claiming to have defeated it with "buttermilk and garlic". He advised me to start this regimen at age 70 for a chance at longevity.
With a nod of contentment, he added, "Do that, and you'll grow old like me."
Allen tries to follow his Dads advice but admitted he couldn't stomach the buttermilk.
Despite never serving in any wars, John had aspirations of becoming a pilot fighter, but he was held back by his poor eyesight.
He smiled and told me with his deep voice " the recruiter seen my eye exam and said there's no way I could be a pilot!".
He eventually underwent cataract surgery, claiming he can now see like a hawk.
His two older brothers served in World War II.
John also experienced a heart attack some time ago. David Young from the funeral home coincidentally stopped by to check on him and mistook John's condition for exercising, believing he was doing push-ups on the ground. Reflecting on the incident, he mentioned, "Dave didn't think I was gonna make it that time." However, John overcame the odds after undergoing triple bypass heart surgery.
More recently, John has been battling tremendous body pain. He likened it to the type of trees surrounding his house, comparing it to allergies caused by flowers and plants, pointing to the trees in his front yard as the source of his discomfort. He showed me through the window, the cuts he made around every tree trunk to kill them, explaining that this had alleviated 50% of his pain. I could only imagine John, at 100 years old, wielding his chainsaw just months ago to cut into every tree in his yard.
Although John and Jo Ann didn't venture out into town often, they did travel around the world for a while.
When I asked them if they were satisfied with how they had lived their lives and what they had accomplished, they both responded with a resounding yes. I thoroughly enjoyed conversing with them; it felt like chatting with my own grandparents. Jo Ann expressed that it made for a pleasant evening, her warmth and memorable demeanor shining through. John, in particular, amused me with his sharpness and awareness, defying his age of over 100 years. If he had told me he was 70, I would have believed him without hesitation.
I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to the Roberts family for generously sharing their knowledge and memories of life in this small town.
Here's to another hundred years!
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