The Times-Mail from Bedford, Indiana • 5

A-5 The Times-Mail, Bedford, Indiana, Thursday, June 22, 1989 Orangeville store like step back in time By Wanda G. Williams Times-Mail Staff Writer ORANGEVILLE A visit to the Orangeville General Store is like stepping back in time to the days when mom and pop stores were the center of community activity. Its weathered sign leans against the front of the building awaiting repairs and a new coat of paint and lettering. Inside, shelves that years ago were filled with merchandise now hold more crafts, collectibles and antiques than groceries. A black and white cat that has run of the store, curls up next to the bread on the metal rack in front of the counter.

After a nap, he yawns widely, then strolls off like a night watchman making his rounds. His cushioned feet carry him silently between the counters and shelving units. Hes a good mouser, so we dont have to worry about any mice in the store, but he wants to take the dead mice and deposit them in my sons bed, said Warnetta Faulconer, with a laugh. Warnetta is the daughter of the late Warren Hughes, who bought the store more than a half century ago, in 1938. The little store and the residence behind it were built in 1925 by John Campbell, who had owned a store that burned at Orangeville.

Warnetta and her husband, Lyman, a former electrician in Indianapolis, came back to Orangeville in 1978 after her father suffered a stroke and was unable to take care of himself and the store. We have been here ever since. We thought it would be a year, but Mother died in 1981 and Dad died in 1983, and we just stayed on, she said. We all lived here together. When we came here, our son, Kyle was 12 years old.

Hes still at home, off and on, when he is not away doing cable work. Lyman Faulconer keeps busy in John Lambs shop sawing and sanding the wood pieces for a variety of wood crafts offered for sale in the store under the name of Lost River Crafts. In addition to the popular geese, the managerie includes puppies and even a unicorn. Homecrafted dolls and crocheted items on consignment also occupy the craft section in the center of the store that features work of about a half dozen area craftsmen. Warnettas antique dishes that she is offering for sale occupy a shelf behind the main counter, where she parks her walker and sits on a stool.

Crippled from a birth defect and arthritis, she sits and figures patrons bills with a pencil and paper the same as it was done when the store first opened years ago. High on a shelf in one corner of the store are other antiques and collectibles that could have been found around the house 50 to 100 years ago. They are not for sale, but serve as conversation pieces. Built in 1915, the store has a poured basement and shows additions that came later. We sell more cigarettes, pop and ice cream than anything else, said Lyman.

We keep bread, milk and bologna, said Warnetta, and a little bit of canned food so when some- Tim-Mail photoi by Wanda C. William Warnetta Faulconer (right) figures the tab for her customer, Pauline White, as husband Lyman Faulconer listens to Pauline explain how she broke her toe. The old store has pressed tin walls and ceiling. body forgets something at the supermarket in town, they wont have to drive back over a lot of hills, through a lot of hollers, and around a lot of curves. She explained that Orangeville is about equal distance, seven miles, from Orleans, Paoli, and West Baden.

Orangeville draws tourists who come to see the mysterious Rise of Lost River, within a short distance of the store. The river sinks beneath the surface of the earth between Orleans and Paoli, some seven miles east, and does not reappear until it comes out from under a bluff in the center of Orangeville. Tourists discovering their vehicles gas tanks running low used to be able to fill up at the Orangeville Store, until environmental safety inspectors said the gas tank would require the Faulconers to pay $1 million in Lyman Falconer steps off the porch of the Orangeville General Store, a stopping place for residents who forgot to buy something town, or for visitors to the mysterious Rise of Lost River a few feet away. in Ann Landers Other woman wonders why women fight for V2 a man Dear Ann Landers: you have printed several letters over the years by and about the Other Woman. I have been in both situations and am an expert on the subject.

Please consider the possibility that there are at least two sides to every story. First, the Other Woman often tells herself that the wife is a total witch, that she is crazy, mean, alcoholic and impossible to live with. It may be true that she is all of the above, but perhaps her husband had something to do with her witchiness, craziness, meanness and alcoholism. Ill bet a front tooth that the woman wasnt like that when he married her. Second, consider the possibility that the Other Woman might just like things the way they are.

She has her freedom and her own space. Deep down she knows it would be murder to live with her lover day in and day out, picking up his wet bath towels and keeping his wardrobe in shape. In her goofier moments she may fantasize that it would be nice to be his wife, but when she takes a good, long look at the guy, she has to admit that she doesnt want him on a full-time basis. And please dont waste any time feeling sorry for the wife. About 99 times out of 100 she knows whats going on.

There are dozens of tell-tale signs. A wife would have to be an imbecile not to know. It is easier to look the other way and keep her mouth shut, especially if she has 20 or more years invested in the marriage. As for the man, he almost always likes it both ways. He wants a respectable image, a cozy family setting and the easy, comfortable presence of the woman he started with at the beginning.

For those moments when hed like to feel younger, sexier and more playful, theres the Other Woman, powdered, perfumed and waiting. The only thing I cant figure out is why both of these women feel they are worth only half of this phoney-baloney Romeo Thats the stumper. Baffled in Glenview. 111. Dear Baff: Beats me, buttercup.

Any answers out there? Dear Ann Landers: A while back a reader asked your opinion of a an airhead funeral director who went on and on to a bereaved family about how difficult it was to prepare a loved ones body for viewing because he was in such terrible shape. You landed hard on the idiot and he deserved it. I am involved with several professional organizations, including the National Funeral Di rectors Association, and can truthfully say that there are only a few I would not trust to deal with members of my own family. Our profession has its bad apples, like any other, but families better than what your 'correspondent got. I was embarrassed when I read that letter, 'and Im sure thousands of other 'funeral directors shared that embarrassment.

C.A.J., Greensboro, N.C. Dear Greensboro: You have a very caring brotherhood. The mail was extremely heavy, and everyone who wrote echoed your disgust. Thanks to all of you. Dear Ann Landers: Have you ever heard of a major corpora writing customers who have been hit by a flood to offer them more time to pay their bills? Well, the Chevron Company sent us just such a letter.

We couldnt believe it. Since you like to salute goodness wherever you find it, how about a word for Chev ron? Bowling Green, Ky. Dear Bowling: lets hear it for A big company with a big heart. Do you have questions about Sex, but no one you can talk to? Ann Landers booklet Sex and the Teenager is frank and to the point. Send a self-addressed, long, business-size envelope and a Check or money order for $3.65 (this includes postage and han dling) to: Teen, c0 Ann Landers, P.O.

Box 11562, Chicago, 111. 60611-0552. (In Canada send $4.45.) Timcreator Syndicate She remembers the Orangeville Store as a gathering place for the community when she was a young girl. People of the community would come to the store to listen to the radio, especially the broadcasts of the fights. Some of those listeners were Lloyd Brown, Gilbert Knight, and Clyde, Bill and Dick Stalker, she recalled.

Among the tales told about the old store include one of a hold-up that allegedly occurred when Manson Stalker operated the business. Dad never believed the tale about a horse, wagon and driver going off into the rise of Lost River years ago, said Warnetta. She noted, however, that the rise was the scene of a womans death, ruled suicide, a few years ago. Gathering dust on the top shelf of the store, items on display include a stone jug, butter churn, tobacco cutter, bottle capper, old meat saw, tack hammer, flat iron, rotary beater for a churn, corn knife, apple corer, peach peeler, lantern, horse clippers, curry comb, and an old kerosene lamp. A hand-crank type telephone stUl hangs on the wall nearby.

Bread shelves now hold sugar, crackers, bread, craft items and a black and white cat that Falconers say is a good mouser. Charles Ragsdale recalls Orangeville as busy place made the letters1 of wood to go on the sign, which was constructed by their oldest son, Keith, and his wife, Debra, from Palm Bay, Fla. Also married to a girl named Debra, the Faulkoners son, Kevin lives in Indianapolis. Since both girls have the same name, it makes it interesting. We usually say Debbie No.

1 and Debbie No. 2, said Warnetta. Noting that they have three grandsons, Warnetta laughed and said, We cant get a girl in this family to save my soul. Kevin, a carpenter, lives in the same house Lyman and Warnetta lived in at Indianapolis before coming to Orangeville. When we go see him, it is like going home, said Warnetta with a wistful smile.

She said Kevin would like to live in Orange County. The grandchildren love to come to their grandparents house so they can get free pop, ice cream and bubble gum from the old store. A graduate of Orleans High School with the class of 1944, Warnetta attended Oakland City College three years with plans to become a social worker. Water from up north by Spring Mill Park follows what is called the gulf, comes up and goes back down. The engineers were sure thats part of what comes up at Orangeville, said Ragsdale.

Charlies coffee drinking buddy, Wayne Freed, sitting in the booth with him at Herles Cafe in Orleans, chimed in, If we knew what we were sitting on here in Orleans, everybody would move out. There are sink holes honeycombing this area. Charlie continued, Old man John Campbell, who owned the Orangeville store and the mill, used to tell about the rise at Orangeville. Hed say, Its a mighty spring, flowing one and a half million gallons every 24 hours. He had picture postcards made.

It drew a lot of people from the hotels at French Lick and West Baden. His store and big two-story mill that made flour and corn-meal were nearby. I remember going to the store and the mill with my dad when I was a boy. My brother, Luther, worked for Campbell, driving a truck and hauling 25-pound sacks of flour to the stores. I think they called it the Rise of Lost River Flour.

We went to the store on Saturday night and took eggs to trade for groceries. We had about 100 hens and it was my job to gather insurance. We decided not to have it filled up again. I know it doesnt leak because it is only 15 feet away from our well, and there is no oil in it, said Faulconer. Steady customers such as Pauline White, who lives nearby, like to stop by and pick up a few items in the store and share the latest news.

Pauline is currently recupering from a fall in which she twisted an ankle and broke a big toe. Shelves that are not needed for the small amount of grocery items or crafts are utilized by the Faulconers to store their home canned foods such as green beans and other things from their adjoining living quarters, where they have little storage space. The walls and ceiling of the store are covered with a decorative tin in two different patterns. I painted that once. Thats a job, said Lyman.

Records show the store is built on Lot 1 in Orangeville. The abstract does not show the first owner of the land, said Warnetta. The sign on the front of the building says, Orangeville This and That General Store. Lyman they never got it out. One thing that makes me doubt the story is because the water at the rise is only about eight feet deep.

He continued, Really, according to the Corps of Engineers die test, it is not the actual rise of Lost River. They put dye in sinkholes east of Orleans where the water sinks and it came up on the Ben Allen property, not at Orangeville, he said. Carl Gromer owns the farm now. It is about a half-mile from Orangeville. The engineers were positive that was the rise, not Orangeville.

TimevMail photo by Wanda C. William Ragsdale, talk about old times in coffee at Herle in Orleans. the eggs. There was always one old hen that pecked me when I tried to get the eggs. Some of my best memories are going over to the Orangeville store and loafing when I was not working.

All the neighbors would come in and tell big stories. My father-in-law, Manson Mack Stalker, ran the store after Campbell sold out. I remember when a bunch of guys robbed the store. They were caught up around Beanblossom because the mail carrier, John Elrod, saw their car parked and took down the license number. The only thing the safe had in it was papers and things.

Stalker had bought just the store stock, not the building. The robbers wanted the combination to the safe, but Stalker didnt know the combination. One of the robbers asked Stalker, If I hit you on the head with this gun will you remember the combination? He replied, No, I dont have it Charlie, a farmer most of his life, lived in Idaho four years, 1974-78, but he decided he liked to visit there more than he liked to live there. His wife, Ethel, died two years ago. He has a daughter, Chloe Pemberton, Orleans; three grandchildren and five groceries.

We always got our groceries there, because my dad never had a car and it took too long to drive a wagon to Orleans. That was a days round trip by wagon, he said. My dad farmed and hauled logs. I was one of 11 children and am one of four still living, said Charlie. Turning his attention to the rise of Lost River in Orangeville, Ragsdale said, I never believed the tale about a wagon and driver disappearing in it, along with the team of horses pulling it.

They claimed it went out of sight and Wayne Freed (left) and Charles Orangeville while they sip their By Wanda G. Williams Times-Mail Staff Writer ORLEANS Although he lived in Orange County only part of his childhood years, Charles Ragsdale, 80, knows a lot of folklore about the area, especially Orangeville. He remembers the old store John Campbell operated in Orangeville until it burned in 1936. The store stood where Charlies brother, Luther Ragsdale, later lived. I moved to Orangeville when I was only six months old and lived there until I was eight.

We moved to Illinois, then back to Orange County, and lived in a number of different places near Orangeville, said Ragsdale. Orangeville used to be a busy place. It had Orangeville Flour Mill that ground wheat into flour, and corn into meal. It had a blacksmith shop, operated by Jim Scarlett, and a telephone exchange. It had a millinery shop that sold hats, the Odd Fellows Hall, and a doctor.

Doctor Henry Ritter brought my brother into the world, went home and shot himself, or got shot. He was found by his wife or one of his kids. My mother named my brother, John Henry Ragsdale, after him. People did their tradin at the Orangeville Store. We would take the ggs in and trade them for i.