Joseph Zott (Jr.) has been requesting me, for a long time, to record stories of my life. I felt it would be a difficult and time-consuming task, and a challenge in my old age. As you get old, your memory isn’t as good as when you are younger. Makes remembering events in your life difficult and lost in the past. And you have the ever-present thought this is going to take a lot of time and effort. So why waste all the time and effort it will take to create the story.
I don’t know why, but I decided to do it. Maybe the fact I discovered that a lot of information was going to be lost when I die. The frustration that Jerry and I felt, while trying to find more about our past as we presently do in genealogy is one of the reasons. If I would do the family history, even if incomplete and error ridden as it might be, it would give some good history, and maybe some new ideas for research. And, the present generation would not cuss me for not writing at least a story to help them start to do research.
Especially for Joan, she asked me several times to put dates on pictures taken and locations etc. No, I rarely did. Recently while looking for information and people and their photographs I realized I could not remember very many names etc. She was right and is probably gloating in heaven saying I told you. So, for her I am going to write a family history so some of our history is available for present and future family, AND I ask you to date your pictures and start your own family history including with dates of important events.
Actually, writing is time consuming, and difficult. Some of the facts listed maybe incorrect. I apologize. I am trying to give true factual stories. It may be too late Joe, Jr. but I hope you get some useful stories.
I was named Joseph Anthony Zott. My Father was Milton William Zott, son of Joseph Zott from Alsace Lorraine and Anna Schleicher probably from Macomb County, and my Mother, Marion Corine Rinke, from Macomb County and the daughter of Joseph Rinke and Elizabeth Gill from Macomb County.
I was born in Centerline, Michigan, in the house at Weigand and Lawrence St. Weigand ran east — west and Lawrence ran north— south. Gravel roads. West of Lawrence was farm land for about ½ mile. The railroad track between Detroit and Northern Mich. was located along the western edge. During WWII, trains carried army tanks made at the Tank Arsenal, about 2 miles north of Centerline, and were sent south to Detroit and then to the U. S. Army. The City of Centerline extended east of the rail road tracks for almost 1 ½ miles. I was born in the house June 4, 1928. Yes, a Doctor was there.
My sister was born in the same house on Dec 8, 1931, about 3 1/2 years later. Again, a Doctor was in attendance. My sister was named Mary Jane. Sometime after this, my Mother wanted me to know my sister. So, she set me on a chair or couch, put a blanket over my legs and she and I held my sister on my lap and my Mother told me about my sister and wanted me to love her and look after her. It has been many years and lots of things have happened but I remember what my Mother wanted from me. I loved my sister and tried looking after her including her last breaths when she died.
The house was one story, basement, and attic. I believe there was a pull-down stairway to the attic. The gas fired furnace was in the basement and discharged hot air through a holed floor panel in center of the house first floor. Naturally I ran across the panel and badly burned the bottoms of my feet. Only once!! (Painful, I still remember.)
We got water from what I believe was an electric pump on a neighbor’s lot. I think the water pump and storage was heated by a gas fired heater to keep from freezing in winter weather. One of the exciting things was the fire. When the neighbor’s water pump and shelter burned up one dark evening, it was real exciting to a small boy living 3 houses away. I’ve got a gut feeling this lead to our connection to the City water supply.
We did have electricity. The house furnace was gas fired. We had a gas fired water heater. My mother would go down and ignite it with a match any time she needed hot water. Years later, when she would use hot water from our modern gas fired water heater, she would make comments how wonderful it was she didn’t have to go down to light the water heater. The clothes washers and driers also made her happy along with the electric stove, and house heating.
I don’t remember my exact age when I lived in this house. But I do remember experiences and events. Essentially, I lived in this house from 1928 until June 1938, except for time in Arizona. My mother was not very healthy and could not do many jobs. I would scrub the floor, hand her the cloth to refresh or wring it out, and then used it on the floor. I also used the scrub brush on the floor.
When I was very young, I had a Buck Rogers “ray” gun. (Or was it Flash Gordon?) One day I was playing guns by myself. My father was sleeping. I got very enthusiastic and loud, I woke up my father. He thought there was a real “problem.” Really was upset. That was essentially the last time I ever played with that gun again.
One event was that it was discovered that I was subject to kidnaping. My grandfather was considered to have money and they planned to kidnap me and my grandfather was to pay. That was when my father bought a revolver. I was told to be careful and stay away from people I didn’t know. One day a car stopped in front of the house and they rolled down a window and tried to call me over for directions. I wouldn’t move in that direction. I was about 10 feet away from car. Don’t remember what motivated me but after some discussion I got concerned and took off to house, quickly. On another occasion they wanted me to deliver magazines to people on street, and left me with a delivery bag full. My Dad discovered and that was end of my delivery experience.
To help protect the family, my Father got us a dog. He was big. Standing by the kitchen table he could put his head on the table. I believe it was a “Chow”. We didn’t become friends. When I tried to play with him he would knock me down and grab my pants leg and drag me across the yard.
I have a feeling the dog got free from the yard on occasion. I know my Dad stretched a wire from the back porch to the garage and put a collar on the dog and connected the dog collar to the wire with a chain. The entire back yard became his kingdom. The house had a weather protected back porch. The door to the house on one side and a door to the porch steps on another side. The porch provided weather protection to the dog. The name Pete keeps popping up and I have a feeling that was the dog’s name.
There were illnesses back then that were contagious. They put a label on our house and my other ran out of food. I remember my Uncle George rapped on porch door one evening with food for us. He wouldn’t bring cooked food up porch steps to my Mother. If I remember correctly, it was supper. She had a hold of dog and I remember my Uncle refusing to come up. Our dog was probably growling a little. With her holding the dog she couldn’t pick up food. My Uncle feared the dog but finally set food just inside the porch door and left. I don’t remember how my Mother handled the dog and food but she had me help. I can remember her giving me directions to help, but don’t remember the directions. Don’t remember why my Father wasn’t available or why we ran short of food. We survived.
My Mother was of slight build but she did handle the dog I think. This is when I learned the dog’s feeder was the dog’s best friend. I believe that she got the dog to obey and protect her because she was his source of food. No person would bother her, or even come close. They were afraid of the dog.
Anyway, our house was the last on the block and the street. Beyond the street was farm land. Our lot was indicated with an old wire fence. When people walked past our lot with fence, they mostly walked on the other side of the street. When I ask my parents “why “, I was informed they were afraid of the dog. I will admit that the dog had bent over the edge of the fence in spots where it leaped at the fence trying to get at people who probably teased the dog. Kidnapping threat passed.
Pete seemed to have become too large for city life and my Grandparents had relatives living in Canada on a farm. They were happy to get him. They had lots of stories about him. Once they had to go away for a few days. They had put a steel pipe in ground and attached Pete’s chain. Pete wanted to go inside the house. He pulled the chain-anchor pipe out of the ground. Went to the house and chewed the area around the door handle and lock until he could get in. When they returned several days later he was inside the house waiting for them. House condition never revealed. Shortly later, Pete was “put down.” This occurred while we lived in Arizona.
Where my little sister was involved, I know we played some together as she got older. I was afraid that I might accidentally hurt her. One day when outside, my mother told me to look after her. Remember, I was a young boy. We were outside. Trying to figure out something to entertain her was a problem. How about something I would enjoy. Surely, she would enjoy it too. There were some puddles on the sidewalk. So, I carefully lead her to several puddles to splash. Naturally I held her hand and stayed in the puddle free area. Oh well, another well-conceived plan bit the dust.
My Mother’s health was bad. My Father’s brother, Uncle Nelson and family, raised Mary Jane for a time while she was a baby, I don’t know when and for how long she was there. I don’t know if this had any effect on my relationship with her as a result. It could have been for a couple years.
As a result, I don’t remember having many childhood experiences with my Sister. When I try to remember I can’t remember anything specific.
We had a telephone; you have seen pictures, upright with hearing device hanging on side of stand. My Uncle George called once and gave me a hard time teasing me or something but I ended up afraid to talk on the phone. It took several years before I overcame that fear.
My Zott grandparents had a bowling alley, bar, and restaurant at 25325 Van Dyke, directly across the street from St. Clements Church. At times they also sold ice cream.
My Rinke grandparents had an auto sales and repair store and a hardware store with gasoline pump outside on side of building facing Van Dyke, just north of the church. My Mother had worked at the store and filling cars with gasoline when she was younger. The pump was the glass top style.
In 1933, my Mother tried to impress me that visiting my Grandpa Zott was important since he was dying. It would be my only chance to see him. So I was taken to my Grandparent’s apartment over a retail store located on Van Dyke. I walked over to Grandpa and stared at him and tried to look at him and memorize what he looked like. It didn’t work. I only stayed a shirt time. Remembrance of his face was only for a few days.
He died and made my Father promise to look after his mother. My father now had to work long hours to keep the bar etc. business existing. As I looked back at my family life, that “promise” destroyed my Father’s and Mother’s personal life, and almost destroyed our Family life.
I can remember some events but I have difficulty remembering the year. For example, while living on Weigand, in the back of house area, there was our garage, alley, and neighbor garage, and then his –house. I was given orders from Mother to carry something to put in trash pile in alley. Being lazy, I decided there was an easier way. I could throw in an arc the trash over the garage onto the trash pile. First trial, and shortly later, there was a “crash” heard from garage area. Investigation revealed hole in garage window of neighbor. This plan was not well conceived.
As I got older, I started school, St. Clement Grade School, First Grade. I would walk down Weigand, cross Van Dyke, a concrete State Highway and Main Street in Centerline; go to Church, and after mass, then to school. After class, cross Van Dyke, and returned home. Now, when I think of being 6 and crossing that Highway, M-53, I realize that traffic now is different from those days. Also, years later the three-story wood school with brick exterior was considered a fire hazard and as such was a hazard for the children. We had loads of fire drills during the school year. Grades 1 thru 4 were on first floor, 5 through 8 were on second floor, and high school and auditorium was on the third floor. There were 3 stairways. Drills were done with one stairway blocked. When the alarm sounded and you left the class room, you didn’t know which stairway was to be used. There were people stationed to point the way to go. During one time when the school was closed we had a lightning storm. A bolt hit the chimney and removed a length of brick. I was standing on my porch a couple hundred feet away. I couldn’t get excited because it was over within seconds.
The second school year I had troubles. Being one of the tall kids, my seat was in the back of the class room. I couldn’t see what was on the front chalk board and complained. Finally, my mother heard me and took me to the eye doctor. Yeah, couldn’t see worth a damn. The eye doctor’s office was up several stories in downtown Detroit, and when I got my new glasses he told me to look out the window. I exclaimed there are cars down there. I couldn’t believe it. When I went to church, the candles were unbelievable beautiful. I was shocked to see the space between the bricks in a house. For some reason I was in my grandmother’s house when I first saw the bricks and spaces. I was in a new world.
Sometimes when I think about it I can still remember my feelings. I was introduced to a whole new world/life.
With my Father working longer hours etc., my Mother would get lonely. She and I would talk and she spent more time at her Mother’s. My Great Grandmother was getting old. Mother and I discussed the problems in Mexico of the Catholics persecution. After I became worried, my Mother tried to put me at ease and said don’t worry about it, we live hundreds of miles from there.
Mr. Grandmother Rinke made a great tasting coffee cake, usually for the weekend. She made several and the families would come and pick up their coffee cake.
Don’t remember the year. It was near Christmas time. While visiting Grandma Rinke; I got a fever, BAD! Doctor called. I had spinal meningitis. My parents hauled me immediately to Harper Hospital in Detroit. Eventually I healed enough to return home. Warned me I would be physically weak, I would lose strength. It was true. It would affect me the rest of my life.
Mother had breathing problems. Doctor said she should be taken to Arizona that would help her breathing especially in cold weather. So when I was 9, we packed up the family of 4 and drove down to Tucson, Arizona. Located a house to rent and settled down.
It was a long tiring drive. Mother being Mother made me keep a log of things I had seen, and places I had visited. When the trip was finished I had to rewrite the notes into a report format that when finished, my Mother packaged and sent to the nun who had taught me that year at St. Clements for the class to read or hear about. Famous highway 66 was used for most of the way.
While the view was fantastic at times, all I remember was many “great” views—scenery etc. Unfortunately, I remember that I saw them but can’t recall the views. We ended up in Tucson. A house was found and the Parish was Ste. Peter & Paul. They had a grade school close enough to walk to and my Mother signed up Mary Jane and myself. She was in first grade and I was in fourth grade.
Mary Jane had not made her first communion. This was happily accomplished. Later we both celebrated our confirmations. Only difficulty was getting a person personally known as a Catholic to stand-up. Mother got a new personal friend for Mary Jane and I selected the Family Doctor. He had a son named Jerome and he was slightly older than I. Jerome and I became friends. The Doctor agreed to stand up. I liked the name “Jerry” which Jerome sometimes used. It is the basis of our Jerome’s naming.
Our family became friendly with a Priest at a nearby Catholic Church on an Indian Reservation. Mary Jane became a favorite with the Franciscan priests. Mother loved the Indiana Reservation Church etc. Sorry, not sure of name. San Xavier Indian Reservation keeps popping up in my brain, could have been the name. Mary Jane had a special dress (see pictures) and the family frequently spent time there. After we returned home to Michigan we had many artifacts etc. brought back from there.
On one side of our house, in the next door vacant lot, there were piles of adobe. Adobe was the primary construction material in Arizona. Adobe, mixture of mud, dirt, and straw was placed in forms to give the finished product a square brick shape. The adobe was formed into walls etc. The surface covered with a coating to -- protect the adobe from water. Between the stored piles were snake holes where the rattle snakes dug a hole in dirt for protection etc. Let’s say, I was careful outside. Meaning my eyes spent more looking down then up.
During the fall season we could hear roars of crowds of people. Was told this was football spectators at the local university. We got special student tickets once and my Father took me to a night game. I was completely lost and thanked my Dad and agree it was beyond me. When Rachel Leibrecht and Tom had their marriage blessed in recent years, I was invited, went, and discovered where I had lived many years ago. The Church and School was “St. Peter & Paul. The University nearby was Univ. of Tucson. Guess it is a small world. We never discussed football and I understood nothing of the game.
For Christmas, Grandma Zott flew down in a DC-3 for a visit. It was considered quite the thing. Loads of Zott family and friends were impressed. Believe it require two day each way, or was it 3? I was slightly impressed. But I knew very little of airplanes. Got lots of gifts for Christmas but can’t remember much. I think one was a compass. My Dad was being fancy with my gift, he had it on a table moving it around, playing with it. I could be cool too so I went near him and ignored gift. The compass got knocked off the table onto the floor and result—broken. I shed a few tears about that.
It seems my Grandmother had a characteristic or trait or urge??? Like my Mother. They both liked to travel and see things. So for Xmas vacation we traveled to Los Angeles area to see Hollywood, Huntington Woods, etc. Saw lots of things including the big buildings where the movies were made. For some reason I remember that some sightseeing was done in the evening. Grandma flew home to Michigan in the DC-3.
My Mother and I still talked. We discussed the stories of religious persecution. Commented on that the “long distance” from us was a lot closer. We got a different personal view then the newspaper article.
In February, we got the sad news my great grandmother Gill died. She was 91. I can still visualize her sitting in a chair looking out of my Grandmother’s house window looking at traffic on Van Dyke and at the Rinke Auto and Appliance store businesses.
My Father had a hard time finding a job. We lived on a tight budget. My Father had jobs as a waiter and bar tender from time to time. If he had any others I was not aware of them. Living in Tucson was depressing for my Mother and Father. There were many times they wished they were home in Michigan.
The doctor gave my Mother directions to get more sunlight. So she was sitting outside in back of the house and began to feel a little woozy and very hot! She went into the house and got a thermometer and brought it outside. Discovered it was over 110 degrees in the shade. She made a few disparaging remarks, said it is too hot and she wanted to go home, back to Michigan. May be off a little in time but I think we were on the way home in less than a week.
I again I was to record the trip. Not any enthusiasm on my part. I don’t know if I did or not.
I got home in time—the next day I was 10 years old. A good reminder of part of my life and experiences and a good key “Birthday event” to help remember.
Finishing the fourth grade of school, turning 10 years old, leaving Arizona, seemed like a big group of easily remembered events and an important point in my life so my mind latched on to the facts and date and it has been a big point in helping recalling my life.
My Great Grand Mother Gill had died and my Uncles were worried about their mother living alone, so the typical family strategy was executed and my Mother was informed our family would move in with her. My Grand Mother Rinke bed room was moved up stairs adjacent to mine, Mary Jane moved to Great Grandmothers (first floor) room, and my Folks had the big bedroom on the first floor. The house was built on Rinke land, auto facilities and appliance sales site.
Naturally my Father's family had their strategy. My father would work in his mother business. Actually, slave would have been a better description. My mother had to do the book work. A more complex and bigger job then you imagine. Oh yes, what about our house? It had been rented out while we were gone. With us back it was rented until it sold.
As I review my thoughts and events at this time, you may wonder at the depth and width and how could I reach such maturity. My Mother and I had lots of talks on general things etc. and I would help her thinking and she would help me. We helped each other learn and grow. She had no friends to talk to or have discussions with. She knew very few people and my father was very busy in his mother's business. And I knew very few people.
One evening we were coming home in my father's car listening to the radio. The people on the radio were excited, and yelling. I asked my parents about what we were listening. My Mother said we were listening to the "War of the Worlds". Sounded scary! Both my mother and my father kept telling me it was a story. It was a great story. People were running outside and yelling. Story seemed very realistic. Finally, they found out the truth and by then the story on the radio was over. Years later I realize this story upset and scared a lot of people.
My Mother registered my sister and I at St. Clement School for the fall. The School was across the street from where we lived. House was on Church Street. School was a brick 3 story building.
The County or State decided that there were too many streets that had two names. A name was given a street when created and when the street was extended, a new name was given to the extension. So, you have a street with two names. Very confusing to drivers and people looking for specific addresses. Sacramento has this problem. So, some of the streets in Center Line were renamed. They counted the number of houses and buildings and the name went to the street that had greatest count, the section of street left over got a new name. So, our section of Church Street became Engleman. I believe this name was one of major land developer in area. Street Numbers were also changed. It was 53 (?) or 57(?) Church and became 8047 Engleman. House where we lived has been torn down since late 1990’s is my guess. This was part of Rinke land was used for Hardware Store (Later Appliance Store), Auto Sales and Repair Shop and parking. St. Clement Church was across the street. The Original St. Clement Church was built in 1880. St. Clement School was a brick Parish school three stories high and composed of grades 1 thru 12.
The house was eventually 8047 Engleman. Next door, about 25 feet away, was my cousin’s house. The path between their house and the businesses was along the north wall of the house I was living in. Sounds odd but it was true. With warm weather our outside door was open and the cousin’s family could hear everything in our house. Since my cousins Grandmother was living with us they frequently stopped to say something. Not a very private life. Their family consisted of Uncle Norbert, Aunt Cecile and children. Roland was about 1 year older than me, Roger about 1 year younger, Richard, about my sister’s age, then Joseph, Doris, and Ann.
As for school, yes, I finally passed the grade school section. Mother and I had been discussing High School for some time. The Sisters were having her over for the usual yearly report of my not being a good student. There were three school possibilities. Busch High School, the public-school unit, University of Detroit High School, many years later Jeff attended, and De La Salle, a college prep, Christian Brothers High School. Having heard “College” many years from my Mother, I wasn’t surprised she didn’t consider Busch. But she did. Either I improved my studies etc., or it would be Busch. While U of D High was a problem to reach, my cousin Roland was attending De La Salle, and he drove to school and I could ride with him for free. I improved my studies etc. I was enrolled at De La Salle. Not a difficult decision.
About this time, one morning while I was at breakfast, my dad said “let’s go”. This was unusual. I couldn’t ever remember him eating breakfast. So, I left with him, we got into the car and started off. Curious, I asked where are we going? After a pause he said something. Don’t remember what the words were but I knew we were going to the City Hall to get me a driver license. We filled out the forms, I think I did a written test, and took a police man for a ride. When we returned he said I passed and we went inside and I got my Driver’s License. Great day. Was my birthday. I was 14 years old that day.
I became the chauffer. I got to drive my mother to the doctor, etc., take my grandmother Zott to where she wanted to go, etc. etc. Go out to the Rinke farm and get eggs. As I write this, I begin to remember some of these tasks. Keeping the car fueled was also a responsible task. My father was never happy if he wanted to use the car and the vehicle was low on fuel.
I also had to dig out the car when it got stuck in the mud. Learned fast and this was not a common problem. Naturally, car washing and cleaning was also a task. Rarely got stuck in snow. Learned fast. My grandmother Zott had relatives in Michigan and I got the chance to drive her to visit her relatives. One time the relatives were near Alpina Michigan. The male of the family hunted deer for food. This was a hunting area and we spent the night and I slept on the living room floor. The whole trip had a great impression on me. Even the flat tire while I was driving. Cousin Tom was also along and did some of the driving. persecution
Starting school at DeLaSalle was interesting. Usual courses, Math, English, Religion, Latin. Etc. What was the challenge was transportation. Ride to and from school with Roland Rinke and a few other students. Got to school on time and left right after classes ended. However, sports, drama etc. occurred after the ride for home left.
As part of growing up, Brother George appointed me Basket Ball Manager or something. Gopher etc. would have been more correct. I was responsible for uniforms, amount of air in basket balls, scoreboard in gym, getting scores of games to local newspaper etc. The score board hung on wall in gym and a metal square about 4-6 inches with numbers on them were attached to a board. A student would change numbers as basketball game proceeded. One of my first jobs was repaint the metal squares so numbers could be better seen. The problem was getting home. From school to home was about 6+ miles. Started on Conners in Detroit that terminated at Van Dyke and 8 Mile road. Then there was a Jitney that took me to Centerline. Trouble was wait. So I started walking at 8 mile on Van Dyke and would be a block or two from my house when Jitney would pass me. This saved me fares and I got exercise. A preferred method was go to Conners at school, stick out my arm and thumb and get a ride. A lot of people picked me up and seeing me frequently gave me a ride. Bad weather also made people kind and generous.
After some years, My Dad found a 1935 Chevrolet, 4 door, and it was my transportation. Needed a new paint job so my dad said what color and he then suggested I use School Colors, Purple and Yellow. Bought paint brush and I repainted car Purple with Yellow trim. It was quite a hit at school.
For social life. A couple all girls’ high schools were nearby and there were invitations to actives at their place. Natural, met some girls there and dated them. Knew I wanted to go to college so nothing serious in relationships with girls.
Tried to make the baseball team. Only game I played we won and I got a critical hit. Don’t remember the details.
It was obvious that I was not a ball player.
I worked at bowling alley etc. From sometimes cleaning toilets, floors, setting pins, waiting on customers etc. Whatever needed I did. Hauled waste outside, fired the furnace, shoveled coal, and shoveled snow so people could get to business entrances. Whatever needed to be done. I frequently was given the task. Including filling the bar shelves from cases of beer, filling the shelves with other kind of alcohol type in bottles, getting rid of waste, cleaning rest rooms, clean the bowling alleys etc. minor repairs to pin setting machines. Taught new bowlers how to bowl. During summer months I painted etc. getting building ready for the bowling season starting in the fall. Whatever needed to be done, I was possible doer, depending on availability of others. Including going to bank to get funds for business to cash checks on customer pay day.
However, one good thing. I did a lot of bowling with no cost to me. I got to averaging just over 200 in league play when I quit because by then I was in college and had to work on school related job. Best I ever did was 9 consecutive strikes in a row after a split in the first frame.
I did just about everything, but I don’t have a list of work done.
At the end of 4 years of school, my grades were good enough that I graduated. I was at a party at someone’s house after the graduation and their mother asked me how was my mother. I told her that my mother was in the hospital and had been operated on that day. I told her my mother and I would celebrate when I got my diploma from college.