This story begins with an anecdote and includes a cautionary tale.
First the anecdote: when Richard Herrington (1935-2005) got into trouble as a little boy he would run to his Great Aunt Lolly who lived with his family. Aunt Lolly would brandish her cane at Dick’s mother or father and declare “Don’t you touch this little angel,” regardless of whatever mischief the “little angel” had gotten into. Every child should have such a champion.
“Aunt Lolly” was Laura Althea Marsh. Born in Akron, Ohio in 1872 she was the youngest daughter, and the second youngest child of John Marten Marsh and Laura Althea Klapp. The family moved to Cleveland when Lolly was a young child and she lived there the rest of her life. Lolly attended Walnut School in the Miles Park neighborhood of Cleveland, and while I have not found the records for her high school years, she would probably have attended Central High School on E. 55th street, since there was no high school in her neighborhood until 1894.
Aunt Lolly never married; she was a “working girl” of the late 1890s and early 1900s. I discovered her workplace because of a cache of post cards sent to her “care of” W.A Quinby's in the early 1900s. Quinby’s occupied an impressive building on Euclid Avenue where they sold material, notions, and Butterick sewing patterns.
Here's the cautionary tale: somewhere in the vast array of family photos that I have been planning to sort, scan, and file, are fabulous photographs of Aunt Lolly and her friends in Gibson Girl hair and fashions working at Quinby’s and taking a break in the park on Public Square. I put them “somewhere safe” and cannot find them!!! So, please, learn from my mistake and scan those precious, one-of-a-kind heirloom photos!!!
Now back to our story. I never knew Aunt Lolly, she was my great-grandma’s sister, and they both passed away before I was born, but from the few letters and postcards I am able to catch a glimpse of her personality. She loved to travel, and to take photographs. Besides protecting her young grand nephew from the wrath of his parents, she wrote encouraging and humorous letters to her various nephews who were serving overseas in the military, including one to a nephew in France in 1918 warning him not to “flirt too much with the French girls.” Like many other women of her time and position she was involved in club and church activities, serving as secretary or committee member for various organizations.
Aunt Lolly lived in a time when most women aspired to be wives and mothers; she was neither, but all the evidence points to a life well lived. She was an intelligent, witty and strong woman who had a large group of friends, siblings, nieces and nephews who loved her. She lived her last years at the home of her nephew Fred (the father of the young Dick Herrington) and his family on Laumer Avenue in the neighborhood where she had lived her whole life, dying in 1942. She was buried near her parents at Lakeview Cemetery, but unfortunately with no tombstone. Since she left no direct descendants to honor her memory, I am happy to perform that task. In fact it is not a task at all, but a privilege to pay tribute to this special woman.