“True, Rover never went to church, but this made no difference with Bobby. Nor did Rover ever question Bobby’s creed or religion. No, Rover was only a dog, a faithful, trusting dog. There were no conditions to his love for Bobby; he was just a devoted pal, happy and contented with his little master and always ready and willing, if need be, to lay down his life for him."

We checked Bacall out of the hospital and took her to a specialist who gave her an endoscopy. Something was found in her stomach, a biopsy was taken and we’d find out the results in roughly 72 hours. We were told it could be one of three diagnoses, which I called good, bad and ugly. For three days we waited and prayed. On one of Bacall’s walks, Helen and I both sat down to pet her and we cried, and Bacall wagged her tailed and lovingly kissed away our tears.

Ladies and gentlemen, as I stroll through the old Barnes Cemetery in Fairview, Ohio on this unseasonably warm late September evening, I gaze idly into the distance. As a light breeze blows, I see trees of green beginning to show early signs of autumn hues and soybean fields that are nearly ready for harvest. It makes me feel a bit funereal as I realize that summertime – my favorite season – has reached its ineluctable finale this year

Ladies and gentlemen, as the sun sinks in the western sky and I listen to sound of the train chugging along the tracks in the year of our Lord 1874, I realize my colloquy with Dr. Diocletian Lewis with respect to the Temperance Movement, like the sun of the day, is also reaching its ineluctable finale.

Ladies and gentlemen, as we chatted with Dr. Diocletian Lewis last week, he talked about how a temperance meeting on a cold December night in Hillsboro, fueled a fire that began to sweep through the state in year of our Lord 1874.

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s continue our chat with Dr. Diocletian Lewis, who attended Harvard Medical School and is considered to be the “Father of Physical Education” in public schools in the United States, as well as a shining apostle in the Temperance Crusade.

Ladies and gentlemen, now that Dr. Diocletian Lewis, ex-saloonkeeper John Calvin Van Pelt and the temperance troupe have finished a stop in Springfield, Ohio and have boarded the train to head on to Dayton, we can continue our conversation with the good doctor.

Ladies and gentlemen, as ex-saloon keeper John Calvin Van Pelt and Dr. Diocletian “Dio” Lewis board the temperance train and get set to leave Xenia, let’s take a seat next to the good doctor as the whistle blows and the train slowly leaves the depot.

Mrs. Sams’ name was Charlotte Dunlop Wever Sams, and if the name Wever rings a bell, her parents were Caspar Willis Wever and Jane Catharine Dunlop Wever. And if the name Caspar rings a bell, Charlotte’s older sister, Catharine Willis Wever, married William Oliver Collins and their first-born was Caspar Wever Collins.

Ladies and gentlemen, since we’ve spent some time as of late visiting the year of our Lord 1874, let’s take a few moments to observe the Fourth of July with Mother Thompson, Sarah McDowell, the Rev. Dr. William Jasper McSurely, John Calvin Van Pelt, the local temperance crusaders and others around Highland County.

Ladies and gentlemen, Monday, May 30, 2016 is Memorial Day, a day which was also observed on Monday, May 30 in the year of our Lord 1881. Before we pause to remember those who served and sacrificed this coming Monday, let’s take a step back in time to see how Memorial Day, then called Decoration Day, was observed in Hillsboro 135 years ago.

Ladies and gentlemen, as we left the year of our Lord 1874 last week, former New Vienna saloon owner John Calvin Van Pelt was in Hillsboro meeting with local temperance crusaders like Eliza Jane Trimble Thompson and many others.

Temperance crusader Eliza Jane Trimble Thompson meets John Calvin Van Pelt, the ex-saloon keeper who had previously been known as "the wickedest man in Ohio," on a cold, winter's morn in Hillsboro back in 1874.

Around noon on a sunny day in the year of our Lord 1874, bells were ringing in the town of New Vienna. Local saloon keeper John Calvin Van Pelt, who had earned the sobriquet of the “wickedest man in Ohio,” had announced to the New Vienna temperance crusaders that he had made a decision regarding his establishment, the Dead Fall Saloon, and would reveal his resolution that afternoon.

People closed up their places of business and rushed from all part of the town toward John Calvin Van Pelt's depot. An immense crowd of men and women assembled before the scene of so many prayers and songs. Each looked at the other, and wondered what was going to happen next.