Possum Creek

Day 2: Mission MetroPark

Friday, May 14.

Germantown MetroPark proved a bit difficult to find. So after motoring along lovely, field-bordered, straight, flat roads for a futile half hour, I stopped at a cemetery office to ask a native. The native said he'd never heard of Germantown MetroPark. A woman in another office called out helpfully, "It's probably in Germantown."

They suggested I go to Possum Creek MetroPark , which was just up the road a piece, instead.

Possum Creek rates higher than Carriage Hill in my book. It's more interesting. There are preserved 1800s farms everywhere. You can't throw a stone around here without hitting one. Possum Creek, however, has an intriguing story. (Speaking of intriguing, I need to find out what the heck "Fifth Third" is. There's "Fifth Third" everything here, including a Fifth Third Bank.)

It seems that back around the turn of the last century, a Dayton couple surnamed Hodapp became parents to a baby boy they inexplicably (so far -- I intend to find out why) saddled with the name Null. Null's best friend from babyhood on forward was a fellow named Ralph Clemons. They had lots of boyhood adventures together, then enlisted in the Army and served together in World War I. Null survived the war, but Ralph was killed in the Argonne Forest -- get this -- one hour before the Armistice was signed.

Null was devastated. He never really got over the loss of his boon companion. He eventually became a judge in these parts, saved his money and began buying land. When he had some 200 acres, he turned the tract into a park, which he named "Argonne Forest Park" in honor of his unit, his friend Ralph, and the Armistice. Through the 1930s & '40s, people played ball, danced, swam, picnicked and even rented cabins there.

As you walk through the "Argonne Forest" today, you can see remnants of the park Null developed. It's reverted to woods, but Null's story gave me plenty to ponder as I traipsed past the rusted carcasses of the four streetcars he'd put to various uses, and the cracked cement dance floor, and the bridges built from stone. I'd like to know more about the guy. It's a touching story.

Today's park is 556 acres and includes a 100-acre farm with barnyard animals and activities for kids and families. I didn't make it over there. Mainly I just walked the trails and wondered if I would be able to remember Null Hodapp's name when I sat down to write this.

Here's something funny: After I picked up Rex & Kayti at the hamfest, I told them about not finding the Germantown park and stopping at the cemetery, etc. etc. As we drove back to the motel, Kayti saw a sign by the side of the road. "Is Natl Cemetery the one you stopped at today, Mom?" she asked. I'm like, Nattle Cemetery? Huh? Then I laugh. "Kayti, it's NATIONAL Cemetery. Natl is just an abbreviation."

Too funny. Kids are just so naturally hilarious!