Column #48 -September 19, 1999
 

READERS SHARE MORE FAVORITE MEMORIES OF BROWNSVILLE'S OLLIE MOSSETT
 by Glenn Tunney

        The stories keep rolling in about Ollie Mossett since the recent column I wrote about the late Brownsville pharmacist. Thomasene Florence Jackson is the granddaughter of Ollie's brother William, a longtime South Brownsville postman, and the daughter of Thomas and Louise Mossett Florence. She called last week from Detroit to thank me for writing the story and to recall how thrifty Ollie was. She said he was one of the last to agree to have a telephone installed in his home.  "If people need to talk to each other," Ollie would say, "they should not have to pay to do so." Thomasene said that Ollie had a high regard for education, and he bequeathed to each of his nieces and nephews $500 to be used for educational purposes. Thomasene, who works for Compuware Corporation, attended California State University in California, Pa. And Marygrove College in Michigan. Her sister Marlyn graduated from Central State University, majoring in music, and her cousin William Mossett III graduated from Wilberforce University. Says Thomasene, "Uncle Ollie's legacy lives on through us." 

         He lives on in the memories of many local residents, Thomasene. Walter "Sonny" Buretz of Blainesburg was a little boy with a nasty case of poison ivy, and Sonny's dad sent him to Ollie. Ollie took pity on him and took him into the back of Bulger's drug store. Bulger's was at the bottom of the old steps that led from the Inter-County Bridge down to Water Street. Brownsville Hardware was on the same site later.  Ollie mixed up a concoction and told Sonny to spread it all over his body. He made Sonny stay there for half an hour until the stuff  hardened on him. Sonny went home, trailing flakes as he walked. Sonny said his parents put up with this flaking for a while, then "I went out on the porch and jumped up and down to get it off."

        "Did it work on the poison ivy?" I asked him.

         "Yes it did," he said. "Then about two years later, I got poison ivy again." This time, Ollie told Sonny to go to Sulfur (Redstone) Creek near the Albany Tunnel and play in the mud. Sonny was happy to do as instructed and played in the red water every day for a week.  "It didn't get rid of the poison ivy, but it eased the pain," he said.  Who needs sulfa drugs when you've got Sulfur Creek nearby?
        Richard Wells, author and former resident who now lives in Mt. Morris, Michigan, e- mailed me with his memory of Ollie. "I had the distinction of working directly for Ollie Mossett," he wrote. This was when Ollie worked at Central Pharmacy at the corner of Bank and High Streets. "I hired on as stock boy, and Ollie taught me how to use twisted crepe paper to make window displays. I worked directly for Ollie because the D'Antonio brothers were too busy with other chores."  (This was after R. S. Brosius had sold the pharmacy to Charles D'Antonio, who later sold it to Bill Johnson.) Bernard Frank of Pittsburgh wrote me that he appreciated Ollie's willingness to serve as a consultant about cameras and film when Ollie worked for R. S. Brosius. "Back in those days, Brosius was the main outlet for cameras and film. I don't know if he was an expert photographer," said Bernard, "but he counseled many of us who knew very little about the subject." 

        Bill Freeman, who lives on the National Pike east of Brownsville, told me that he went to Ollie with an unusual problem. Bill had a sow with twelve nursing piglets. The sow had a bowel blockage. Bill went to see Ollie, who promptly mixed up some medicine. (How did he know the correct dosage for a pig?)  Bill took the concoction home, forced it down the sow's throat, and in ninety minutes, all was well and the sow was back up feeding her pigs. Ollie was elated when Bill called him and told him that his remedy was a success. Jean Craig Holland of Fredericktown wrote me that when she was a little girl in Brownsville Junior High School, she developed an allergy to chalk dust. Her mother took her straight to Ollie at Robinson's Drug Store. "He mixed a salve for me. I put it on at night and wore gloves to bed. It was one of his 'cures.' Would you believe I still have the empty little green jar with the label on it?" Ollie recommended mud for Sonny's poison ivy, taught Richard how to decorate display windows, mixed up salve for Jean's chalk allergy, gave Bernard advice on cameras and film, and got Bill's sow back up and running. It is no wonder that when just about anything went wrong around Brownsville, the familiar words were heard, "Let's go see Ollie." 

         In July I wrote a column about a request from former resident Donna Sedlovsky Derdel, who had either a distant memory or a long ago dream about a lion escaping from a circus near Brownsville. Donna wondered if anyone could remember such an incident. I received several calls confirming that it actually happened, and I forwarded that news to Donna. It appears, however, that I underestimated my readers. Here is what I mean. Last week's article about the 1951 truck accident featured some photographs taken by DuWayne Swoger of Brownsville. While researching that article I had visited DuWayne at his home on Shaffner Avenue. I examined his photos of the accident scene and jotted down what he remembered about that day in 1951. When our conversation about the wreck ended, DuWayne excused himself from the room momentarily. When he returned, he had a slight smile on his face as he approached the chair where I was sitting. He was carrying a large eight by ten photograph.  Without comment, he handed the photograph to me and watched my face to see my reaction.  I looked at the picture, then up at DuWayne in amazement. "Surely this can't be what I think it is?" I said. "It may well be," he smiled. Then he told me the story behind the photograph.
        In 1952, the year in which DuWayne estimates he took the picture, he was a member of the Brownsville Lions Club. As a fund-raising event that year, the Lions Club sponsored a small circus at the West Field, across the old National Pike from the entrance to Redstone Cemetery. "Chris Lochinger," DuWayne told me, "was vice president of the Brownsville Lions Club at that time." Lochinger was the managing partner of H and H Chevrolet on Brownsville's north side. It was located on the corner of Fourth Avenue and Market Street, the site later occupied by Carl Ramsey Chevrolet. Joseph W. Birkle, co-owner of Birkle and Murray Hardware (and later sole owner of Birkle Hardware) on the north side "may well have been the Lions Club 'tail- twister'," DuWayne recalled.

        Because his fellow Lions knew that DuWayne was an accomplished photographer who developed his own pictures, he served as the "unofficial" photographer for the Brownsville Lions Club. The photo he had just handed to me was one of several that he had taken for the publicity campaign touting the upcoming circus.  There are three figures in the photo he showed me. On the left side of the photo, arms folded prudently in front of him, is Joe Birkle. On the right side of the photo is Chris Lochinger. Neither man is totally at ease, because between the two men is a sign that says DANGER. Above that sign, gazing malevolently at the photographer through metal bars, is the third figure in the photo - a male lion. "Do you think this is The Lion?" I asked. DuWayne could not say that for sure. He told me that the circus for which they took this publicity photograph was one of the last, if not the final one, that was held at the West Field. That field, he said,  had been a frequent venue for small circuses that came to town, dating as far back as the Depression or earlier. I looked at the photo again.

        "There is only one lion in this picture," I mentioned. "One reader who called me thought there were two lions, one of which was captured and the other shot."
        DuWayne nodded his head. "There were two lions at that circus," he said, "in two separate cages."

        So is this "Donna's lion?" DuWayne did not know if this photograph was taken at the same circus from which the infamous escape is supposed to have occurred. But I am amazed that after writing the article about that lion escape in the early 1950's, someone has dug up a photo of a circus at West Field in that era showing the circus sponsors and its most fearsome attraction. Donna Sedlovsky Derdel, we can't be sure, but take a good look at the lion in the photo. He may well be the lion of your dreams.