I tell people that I was raised in a small town.  I often declare the location where I spent my youth as the reason I was happy, well-adjusted and safe.

 I was raised in Caledonia, Ohio (POP. 700) during a time when we worried about the "Russians" attacking us but not about our neighbors doing the same.  We seldom locked our doors and were safe.   Mrs. Waite sat at her window next door and let Daddy know if someone came around.  She also let Mother know what we boys were up to when were out of her sight.  We weren't offended or bothered by Mrs. Waite.  We were glad that she took an interest in our welfare.  She always remembered us when she made that wonderful homemade candy - large chocolate drops on wax paper with the bottoms flat and spread out like a dust ruffle.

"Mamie" Coldren lived at the end of the block in an old two-story farmhouse at the end of a long sidewalk.  This house was on the edge of town and had a barn and large spreading oaks trees in front.  I remember that every Halloween, Mamie would be so excited that we stopped by for Tricks or Treats.  That was really a misnomer because there weren't any "tricks" to speak of.  Few kids ever made that long dark walk up to Mamie's door because it was pretty scary for a dark night that might produce a few ghosts.  As a result, Mamie always had a surplus of candy the next day.  She would always call or stop by that morning with a basketful for the Layman kids. 

Vivian Hanes lived next door.  One time when I took sick at school, it was Vivian who took care of me until Daddy came home.  If Vivian hadn't been there, some other neighbor would have done the same. 

Bob and Kathryn Landis lived just down the street.  Bob was pretty quiet, especially when compared to Kathryn.  She was a happy lady who always kept a watch on the neighborhood.  She would probably qualify as the local "gossip".  We used to joke that Kathryn knew that a local teenager was pregnant before the teenager even knew.  I remember the summer that she became quickly aware that my older brother decided to start smoking.  I think that her watchful eye helped to prevent him from continuing the habit and probably helped us all from doing lots of things that we may have wanted to try. 

One Saturday evening, our old black & white television started smoking and sparking.  Mother and Daddy quickly carried it to the front yard and called the local fire department.  It wasn't long before the siren down the street started screaming to the concerned citizens that one of their own needed help.  I sat outside in the elm trees with my brothers to watch and listen as neighbors raced to the fire station on foot or by car to pick up equipment and respond.  The television was a total loss but the fire did not spread to the nearby drapes so the house was not damaged.

It had only been a black & white TV with poor reception of three channels but it was now gone.  It wouldn't be immediately replaced.  There were five kids in the family and though we were never hungry or without clothes, there wasn't a lot of extra money.  It looked like we would not be watching TV for some time.  I was wrong.  Bob and Kathryn invited us to their home for an evening of watching  their new color television.  This was my first glimpse at the miraculous invention.  Most of the shows weren't even broadcast in color but we didn't care.  I don't recall what shows we watched, nor does that even matter.  What I do remember is how our neighbors took care of us in a time of need.

Old "Dutch" Detwiller always had a friendly word for the Layman boys.  We'd spend countless hours in the three Chinese elm trees to the South side of our house.  Dutch  jokingly  insisted that they were "sassafras" elms.  This always brought giggles from us.  Dutch had a son named Johnny.   I always had an interest in hunting and trapping and when I was about fourteen years old, Johnny made me his partner and we ran trap lines.  He taught me how to locate active "runs" and paths. He taught me how to set traps for quick kills and how to skin the muskrats. We got up in the early morning hours and drove out to check the traps together.  Johnny was there, laughing,  when I scooped about a gallon of ice cold water in the back of my hip boots while setting a trap.    He also took me rabbit hunting with his old cranky beagle on a brisk winter morning.  I can still remember the chilling sound of the beagle's cry and how the barren trees and light snow looked that morning.

Ralph Reed was the local barber as well as being a volunteer firefighter.  In later years, he also worked as a full-time firefighter in a neighboring city.  Ralph and his wife, Rita, had six kids.  I would sometimes babysit for the Reed kids to earn a little spending money.  Like in many small towns, the barbershop was a meeting spot.  Ralph always had the latest selection of Sports Afield, Argosy and Outdoor Life.  Ralph also always had a kind heart and good ear.  I'd often walk to the post office for the mail and end up spending hours at the barbershop just listening to Ralph and his customers and reading the magazines.  This wasn't a customer benefit.  Mother usually cut my hair because it was too expensive to pay for four boys' haircuts every month.  Ralph's motivation was purely his friendliness. 

Mike Landis, one of Bob and Kathryn's boys, also cut hair and worked as a firefighter.  Like Ralph, Mike was also a volunteer firefighter in Caledonia.  Mike also took the time to talk with and listen to an inquisitive youngster like me.

One year, Tommy and Sally Tomlin, took the Layman boys to Columbus for an adventure previously unknown.  This was an amusement park complete with dodge cars and ferris wheels.  Tommy's company had a company picnic and I'm sure that Tommy and Sally realized there was no money for such things in the Layman household.  We weren't particularly close to the Tomlin's but we were neighbors.  That was enough. 

Rhea Cochran lived next door to the Tomlin's.  She was the local librarian and we also spent many hours together in the small, one room Carnegie library.  Mrs. Cochran appeared outwardly stern but was a very kind woman who always seemed happy when I walked into the library.  I must have read every Life magazine there as well as books on whatever topic I favored at the time. 

Ed and Anne Rensi also lived in Caledonia.  Ed managed a McDonald's Restaurant in nearby Marion.  Ed was a nut for fishing and often took me with him.  He taught me how to shoot a pistol and even introduced me to anchovies on pizza.  (Something that I will never learn to like!)   Ed and Anne treated me like family and even took me on vacation with them.  Their daughter, Marcy, was like a little sister - even to the point of aggravating me on purpose.  It was a very sad day when they moved away from our little town but they had left their influence on me.

My parents divorced when I was about 14 years old.  Daddy was gone from the picture and seldom came around any more.  I still wasn't missing positive role models.  My neighbors were still there. 

William Cody "Skip" Hartman also took an interest in me and taught me how shoot a bow and more importantly when to shoot.  Skip's grandfather was a friend of "Buffalo Bill".  Thus the unique name.  One day, his son (Skippy, of course) and I sighted a .22 rifle in on a black bird about one hundred yards away.  It was a real challenge for open sights but the trigger was pulled and the quarry killed.  Upon close inspection, we learned that the "black bird" had actually been a rabbit - then out of season.  Skip took this opportunity to load us up with his 30-30 rifle and head to the range.  He stressed to us the importance of properly identifying our targets and being sure of what was behind them.  He then "let" us shoot the 30-30.  This was my first opportunity to shoot a high-powered rifle and something that I will never forget.  That rifle punished me more than any beating could ever do. Lesson learned!

Mother has told me how much she appreciated the time that "Gene" Reese spent with me.  We shared Sunday morning fox hunts in the snow and some of the best squirrel hunting available.  We'd be in Jay Lyon's woods before dawn, armed with single shot .22 rifles.  The secret was to lean against a big old oak tree and doze off for awhile.  Waking up after a short nap, we'd findthe sun had risen and the squirrels were active.  We'd only hunt the woods once or twice each season, to insure that there were squirrels enough for years to come.

I met Dick Cooper when I was 15 and he was about 23.  Sharing my interest in the outdoors, we quickly  became hunting and shooting partners.  Dick taught me about trapshooting and hunting but also introduced me to politics.  We were nearly inseparable for the next few years until I had to move away from Caledonia.  I was 17 years old. 

For years, I have often thought of how much I missed  Caledonia.  In my  work as a police officer, I have seen the negatives of life.  I see drugs running rampant in society.  I see children with no direction and no hope.  I see violence and disrespect. People seem to care only for themselves and not for each other.