Memory Lane: Returning to the Mother Thompson Home
Lead Summary
By
Steve Roush-
Ladies and gentlemen, last week I was standing on the hallowed grounds of a very familiar place on Willow Street in Hillsboro, camera in hand, capturing a moment in time.
Many years ago, Willow Street was a haunt I frequented often as one of my high school friends lived across the street from the Mother Thompson Home. Those were memorable days and nights as my buddies and I played cards and video games, watched ballgames and played touch football in the street from time to time with the Mother Thompson Home looming in the background.
On this cloudy day, I aim the camera and focus the lens on the historic 133 Willow Street abode, or what is left of the venerable edifice. I snap a photo, then another and another and another. Suddenly, the clouds give way to rays of sunshine as I photograph what once was considered a point of pride in this town.
The roof of the original structure is gone, as are a couple of the chimneys and the front porch. The front door is open, and the sun shines on what was once a majestic staircase in the Mother Thompson Home.
It’s sad to see a landmark of nearly two centuries being erased from existence – but there comes a day and time where there’s a point of no return, and it safe to say the Mother Thompson Home, also referred to as the Governor Trimble House, has unfortunately reached and crossed that proverbial line.
As I return home, I retrieve an old commemorative Hillsboro plate I’ve had for years and see the three historic buildings displayed – the Highland County Courthouse (when it still had all those chimneys), the Samuel Scott House (when it was still a public library) and Mother Thompson’s Home (when it still had a roof).
No Bell’s Opera House, no Hillsboro High School (the one that was torn down several years ago), no Colony Theater (which is expected to go the way of old HHS and the Mother Thompson Home in the near future), no C.S. Bell Mansion, no Highland House, no Presbyterian, Methodist or St. Mary’s Episcopal churches … well, you get the idea.
But I understand why the Mother Thompson Home was featured on that plate instead of the other aforementioned historic places. After all, when you drive into town on the major highways and byways, you’re greeted by the sign “Hillsboro: Home of Eliza Jane Thompson – Early Temperance Crusader.”
As I hold the plate, I close my eyes and think of Mother Thompson, who was born in 1816 and passed away in 1905. When I open my eyes, it’s as if I’m in a different realm or era, peaceful and serene.
The Mother Thompson Home is in front of me, standing in its former glory. As I approach the place, I see a lady sitting on the porch on a warm and sunny day.
“Mother Thompson, is that you?” I ask.
“No,” is the reply. “Mother Thompson is my mother. She is inside, praying.”
“She is quite an amazing woman,” I say, sitting down in a chair beside her. “A real pillar of Hillsboro. I have written about her and the temperance crusaders quite a bit in the past.”
“Ah, yes,” she says. “Years have passed since she led the heroic temperance band forward that bleak winter morning in Hillsboro, Dec. 23, 1873, and broke the snow and ice, not only of weather, but also public opinion, and inaugurated the Ohio Woman’s Crusade – ‘That pleading voice rose calm and sweet, from woman’s earnest tongue, and riot turned her scowling glance, awed from her tranquil countenance.’
“The ‘sober after-thought’ of this great movement had crystallized into the ‘Woman’s Christian Temperance Union,’ and Mother’s temperance work now was the presidency of the Hillsboro Union, attending national and state conventions, a correspondence in all parts of our own and other countries with the temperance workers and the highest work her prayers for the cause and the laborers.”
“Mother Thompson has had quite a long and remarkable life,” I say.
“Neither my mother’s face, manner, nor disposition had changed much to me with the flight of years,” she replies with a smile.
“My earliest recollection of her was that she was very cheerful, and I thought beautiful. She had, to me, a poetic face – such soft brown eyes and lovely curls. I remember once, when I was a young girl away from home, and I suspect homesick, I purchased a beautiful jewel and searched in vain for the ‘gold-stone’ that looked like my mother’s eyes, which the jeweler failed to find to my satisfaction.
“My sketch is only a brief recital of a few incidents of a remarkable descent of life. Mother would shrink from allowing the world to know her best attributes and most unselfish acts, but when her ‘works follow her,’ many appreciative pens will call her blessed.”
Let’s pause for now, and we’ll continue next week.
Steve Roush is a vice president of an international media company and a columnist and contributing writer for The Highland County Press.
Many years ago, Willow Street was a haunt I frequented often as one of my high school friends lived across the street from the Mother Thompson Home. Those were memorable days and nights as my buddies and I played cards and video games, watched ballgames and played touch football in the street from time to time with the Mother Thompson Home looming in the background.
On this cloudy day, I aim the camera and focus the lens on the historic 133 Willow Street abode, or what is left of the venerable edifice. I snap a photo, then another and another and another. Suddenly, the clouds give way to rays of sunshine as I photograph what once was considered a point of pride in this town.
The roof of the original structure is gone, as are a couple of the chimneys and the front porch. The front door is open, and the sun shines on what was once a majestic staircase in the Mother Thompson Home.
It’s sad to see a landmark of nearly two centuries being erased from existence – but there comes a day and time where there’s a point of no return, and it safe to say the Mother Thompson Home, also referred to as the Governor Trimble House, has unfortunately reached and crossed that proverbial line.
As I return home, I retrieve an old commemorative Hillsboro plate I’ve had for years and see the three historic buildings displayed – the Highland County Courthouse (when it still had all those chimneys), the Samuel Scott House (when it was still a public library) and Mother Thompson’s Home (when it still had a roof).
No Bell’s Opera House, no Hillsboro High School (the one that was torn down several years ago), no Colony Theater (which is expected to go the way of old HHS and the Mother Thompson Home in the near future), no C.S. Bell Mansion, no Highland House, no Presbyterian, Methodist or St. Mary’s Episcopal churches … well, you get the idea.
But I understand why the Mother Thompson Home was featured on that plate instead of the other aforementioned historic places. After all, when you drive into town on the major highways and byways, you’re greeted by the sign “Hillsboro: Home of Eliza Jane Thompson – Early Temperance Crusader.”
As I hold the plate, I close my eyes and think of Mother Thompson, who was born in 1816 and passed away in 1905. When I open my eyes, it’s as if I’m in a different realm or era, peaceful and serene.
The Mother Thompson Home is in front of me, standing in its former glory. As I approach the place, I see a lady sitting on the porch on a warm and sunny day.
“Mother Thompson, is that you?” I ask.
“No,” is the reply. “Mother Thompson is my mother. She is inside, praying.”
“She is quite an amazing woman,” I say, sitting down in a chair beside her. “A real pillar of Hillsboro. I have written about her and the temperance crusaders quite a bit in the past.”
“Ah, yes,” she says. “Years have passed since she led the heroic temperance band forward that bleak winter morning in Hillsboro, Dec. 23, 1873, and broke the snow and ice, not only of weather, but also public opinion, and inaugurated the Ohio Woman’s Crusade – ‘That pleading voice rose calm and sweet, from woman’s earnest tongue, and riot turned her scowling glance, awed from her tranquil countenance.’
“The ‘sober after-thought’ of this great movement had crystallized into the ‘Woman’s Christian Temperance Union,’ and Mother’s temperance work now was the presidency of the Hillsboro Union, attending national and state conventions, a correspondence in all parts of our own and other countries with the temperance workers and the highest work her prayers for the cause and the laborers.”
“Mother Thompson has had quite a long and remarkable life,” I say.
“Neither my mother’s face, manner, nor disposition had changed much to me with the flight of years,” she replies with a smile.
“My earliest recollection of her was that she was very cheerful, and I thought beautiful. She had, to me, a poetic face – such soft brown eyes and lovely curls. I remember once, when I was a young girl away from home, and I suspect homesick, I purchased a beautiful jewel and searched in vain for the ‘gold-stone’ that looked like my mother’s eyes, which the jeweler failed to find to my satisfaction.
“My sketch is only a brief recital of a few incidents of a remarkable descent of life. Mother would shrink from allowing the world to know her best attributes and most unselfish acts, but when her ‘works follow her,’ many appreciative pens will call her blessed.”
Let’s pause for now, and we’ll continue next week.
Steve Roush is a vice president of an international media company and a columnist and contributing writer for The Highland County Press.