A Wife and a Home

HAVING retained his love of country rambles, Paul became a charter member of the Prairie Club of Chicago when it was organized in 1907. He credits that organization with having provided him with the opportunity to obtain both a wife and a home to his liking. In company with other members he spent his Saturday afternoons, whenever possible, hiking over the country contiguous to Chicago. He had a special fondness for the sand dunes on the Indiana shore of Lake Michigan and there he spent many days and nights renewing his strength and enjoying the outdoors.

One Saturday afternoon in mid-winter he was hiking with friends in the Beverly Hills Morgan Park district, when he chanced to see several boys coasting down a hill. The scene reminded him so vividly of his boyhood days in Vermont that it seemed to him that he would like some day to have a home there.

A little later, while on a Saturday after noon hike, he met Jean, heretofore referred to, as the fifth bairn of John and Annie Thomson, who three years prior thereto had come with her brothers and sisters to this country from Edinburgh, Scotland. Within three months from the date of that meeting, Jean became Mrs. Paul Harris and two years later he placed her in a home of her own on the top of the wooded hill, having christened the place “Comely Bank” in honor of the street in beautiful Edinburgh where Jean’s eyes first opened to the light of day. It will be observed that Paul internationalized his family before internationalizing Rotary, thus manifesting the possession of sporting blood and of his willingness to take his own medicine. He hopes that the international character of his marriage with Jean may prove to be a good omen for Rotary.

Two women have exercised strong influences upon Paul; the one was his grandmother, the other, his wife.

Paul’s Scotch lassie recognizes the fact that loyalty is owing the country of her adoption, but the bagpipe still sets her toes tingling and the strains of “Annie Laurie” send the crimson blood surging to her cheeks. True to the traditions of her ancestors, she permits no cause which she deems worthy to go undefended, and she can mobilize her spiritual forces in a second’s time. Alleged Scotch parsimony is conspicuous in its absence from the heart of bonnie Jean.

As an illustration of her unselfish and impulsive nature, an incident of her childhood may be related.

She had constituted herself protector as well as friend of a crippled playmate. Together they walked to school, Jean helping her over rough places. The school was considerable distance from home and the children were therefore provided with money with which to buy their noon day lunches.

On one occasion, after having loitered along the way, they discovered that they were late, too late for the crippled child. Jean asked her if she had a penny to which she answered, no. In an instant Jean thought of her own lunch money, unhesitatingly stopped a tram, bundled her charge aboard, thrust the penny into her hand and then bounded along the street waving encouragement. They arrived at school on time though the expenditure made it necessary for Jean to fast that day. The immortal Flora Macdonald could not have done more. Jean is ever so, throwing herself with perfect abandon into every breach to which love or duty calls.

Her militant spirit has been made manifest on occasions without number. It is ever present, in fact, waiting only the call for action. This quality of mind and heart was made painfully manifest one day to the driver of a team of horses which he was brutally belaboring with his whip in an attempt to surmount a slippery hill. He will not soon forget the dressing down he received from the excited and belligerent little girl who appeared upon the scene in unexpected manner. Jean’s impetuous espousal of needy causes and her disposition to throw herself into them has been the occasion of a good deal of worry to Paul, particularly when she happens to be called to the city. His mind is never at rest until she is seated in the suburban train bound for their home in the country. He fears that her sense of duty may prompt her to disregard her own safety. Jean is essentially a home girl, a lover of good books and of the wholesome things of life. She and Paul spend their evenings, as a rule, in “Comely Bank,” reading together. When it is Paul’s turn to read, Jean’s busy fingers fashion garments for the fatherless babes that are born at Cook County hospital. She has made hundreds of such garments during the course of years. Had Jean been a different type, Paul’s course could not have been as it was. In her way she has made material though inconspicuous contribution to the cause of Rotary.

During the past two years Paul and Jean have visited Rotary Clubs in all parts of the United States, in Bermuda, Mexico and Cuba.

Two years ago, the board of directors of Rotary International, passed a resolution in favor of extending them an invitation to make an around the world trip in the interests of the movement. It was not practical at the time to accept but it is not improbable that the journey will be made in the not far distant future.

Home Again

Considerably more than half a century has passed since the summer night when grandfather, with his swinging lantern, met his son George, with his two boys, Cecil and Paul, at the railway station in Wallingford. Paul and Jean visited the old home during the spring of 1925. Few changes had taken place. The house was as staunch as it was when grandfather built it toward eighty years ago. There was the identical window through which Paul was wont to make his nightly escapes to join his waiting friends.

Paul thought of the grateful shade of the apple trees and of the long green grass, so cool to bare feet on hot summer afternoons. The butternut tree and the sugar maples were still doing duty as of old. He visited the swimming-hole where he and boys who have lived their lives and passed on had set up their springboard on the rocks from which to dive down into the cold dark waters. He took his lassie to Fox Pond, now called Elfin lake, where he used to skate and he pointed out to her the mountain road with its “Thank You Marms” down which he used to coast.

They lunched at the modern True Temper Inn which now occupies the site formerly occupied by the old town tavern of stage coach days. The Rotary Club of Rutland held a meeting there shortly thereafter.

They called on Paul’s Sabbath school teacher and in company with her, visited friends, the school, church and Fay’s old home.

Then, of course, they visited the hillside cemetery where grandfather and grandmother rest together.

It’s a wonderful world with its joys and its sorrows. Life invariably has its values if we will but find them. They are not in bank accounts nor in other possessions.

One thing which looms up big to Paul as he looks back over the period of years is the patient, self-sacrificing devotion of the two old New England people who went down life’s pathway together and who were so sympathetic with and kind to a certain impetuous, mischievous, yearning, dreaming little boy.

Paul was at the bedside of his mother in Denver as she passed to her reward in the summer of 1919. More than a half century George and Cornelia had lived together. His devotion to her every want during her last illness will ever be gratefully remembered by her children. During the month of December, 1926, George went to join her in the Great Beyond.

Jean and Paul have lived fifteen years in the home on the wooded hill and its newness has long since worn off. South of them, on land formerly crowned by sturdy oak, wild crab trees and sumac, two rather imposing brick dwellings now stand. Apartment buildings are beginning to appear here and there, making old residences feel a bit crowded in the region of the elbows, but Silvester Schiele, the first president of the Rotary Club of Chicago, and his wife live at the south end of the strip of woods, and friends are in sufficient number to maintain the neighborliness, characteristic of life in small communities. Jean’s father, mother, brother and sister live only five blocks away, making it possible for Jean to lunch with the old folks while Paul is in the city earning his daily bread.

Longwood Drive has a dignity and beauty of its own; the houses sitting back on the hill top two hundred feet from the street.

Though traffic on the Drive is a bit heavy, Jean and Paul feel that they have much to be thankful for, and there is comfort in the thought that folks who work in the great pulsating city, fourteen miles to the northeast, must have homes. The best that can be wished for them is that they may find as much happiness in their newly built houses as Jean and Paul have found in theirs.

The Morgan Park Beverly Hills district embracing approximately six square miles is now the home of twenty thousand people who came there in search of quiet. Twenty thousand people, their relatives and friends can make considerable noise of their own pleasant Saturday and Sunday afternoons, as has be come manifest to the early settlers whose ideal residential community is a one store town. That’s what comes of living in the outskirts of an ever expanding city.

Friendship

One of the greatest pleasures at 10856 Longwood Drive has been entertaining loyal and devoted Rotarians. Jean and Paul have enjoyed the companionship of many from foreign countries; as many as six nations having been represented at one time at their board. There have been a particularly large number from Great Britain because of Jean’s familiarity with British customs and natural sympathy with their view point. The acme of bliss, of course, has been a cup of tea, and a scone at the fireside in company with a traveler from the bonny land of the heather, while the victrola plays “Annie Laurie,” soft and low.

The best thing in life has been the enjoyment of friendships. How ridiculous to assume that friendship can be confined by national boundary lines, religious faiths or political affiliations; friendship is not anemic; it overrides such considerations; it is one thing of which there can never be too much; it is the ever faithful hand maiden of happiness, and it broadens and sweetens life. Paul’s fervent and oft expressed hope is that he may live until the coming of the day when he can number his personal friends in every civilized country in the world.

Rotary a Pragmatic Doctrine

Paul believes that deeds are more convincing than words; he therefore tries to live the life he recommends to others; that is to say, he follows the practical Rotarian methods of doing his bit.

He has been active in many organizations including the Chicago Association of Commerce and for several years has maintained membership in the Chicago Bar Association, the Illinois State Bar Association and the American Bar Association. He has for five years been a member of the committee on professional ethics of the Chicago Bar Association and is at present chairman of that committee. This office has given him splendid opportunity of carrying Rotary ideals to the members of his own profession. As there are between seven and eight thousand lawyers in the City of Chicago, it will be apparent that the field is wide.

Paul is at present senior member of the firm Harris, Reinhardt and Russell with offices in the first National Bank building, Chicago. The lawyers associated with him represent the survival of the fittest. Fred Reinhardt is a member of the board of directors of the Rotary Club of Chicago in which capacity he has distinguished himself by his usual conscientious and faithful efforts. Fred is also a member of several other well known Chicago clubs.

Paul’s partners and other members of his organization have necessarily assumed many of the responsibilities which in the ordinary course of events would have fallen upon the shoulders of Paul, thus making it possible for the senior member to interest himself in Rotary and other outside matters though the defection has not been without its pecuniary loss. The law has been said to be a jealous mistress; it certainly has been a faithful mistress to the founder of Rotary.

What of the Future

On the 19th of April, 1928, Paul will celebrate his sixtieth birthday; and he will at that time have been nearly a third of a century in the practice of law. how many years he still has before him is, of course, a matter of conjecture. His grandfather died at eighty-six, his father at eighty-four; his grandfather retired in his fifties, his father in his forties.

Should Paul retire at sixty? Should he attempt to chart his future or should he let matters take their course?

His personal feelings are that he should not retire and he is quite certain that he should not resign himself to the policy of permitting matters to take their course. He feels that an important—perhaps the most important—period is yet to come; that his remaining years should be his harvest time. His interest in life has not in the least abated, but it has to an extent undergone change. He prefers to retain his business interests but he would like to emancipate himself more and more from detail

Neither Paul’s father nor his grandfather were subjected to strains equal to those which Paul’s unusual course has thrown upon him; his father’s life was particularly sheltered, but neither father nor grandfather had so much to live for as he, so much still to do after passing middle age.

Rotary has a long way to go. One who thinks of the movement as a finished product is indeed short sighted; there is nothing in the past to justify such a view; those who have been long identified with it think of it as having made a beginning only; the grandeur of Rotary must be in the days to come. A movement which has reached forty-three nations in approximately half that number of years must be destined to surge on until it has reached every nation and when there are no more nations to conquer, it will be time for a more intensive cultivation of the territory open up. There will always be enough to do; the only ethical conception of a movement which makes for the betterment of men is the all inclusive conception. Rotary must not content itself with being anything less than a movement affecting the lives of all men; its requirements are so simple, its doctrine so universally acceptable that its sponsors are not visionary in thinking of Rotary as an all pervading influence. Naturally the founder desires to live to see its influence extended.

Cicero contended that one must round out his advancing years by interesting himself in the affairs of state. There comes a time in the lives of most men which may be termed the transitional period; a time when interest in life changes. They find themselves less concerned with matters which have formerly held their interest. It is a critical period, one which may be passed with great success or in ignominious failure. Many a life which has been useful up to the turning point becomes a blank or worse thenceforward; while on the other hand, some lives seem to blossom out as never before.

The contention of Cicero seems to Paul not to have been couched in words too strong; in fact, it seems to him that the only possible hope of contentment in the course of declining years is through the substitution of wide interests for narrow interests. The greatest game ever played is the game of life. It is better than cricket, baseball or golf, and it is, moreover, the one and only game which never plays out.

Rotary has provided many middle aged men with the incentive necessary to profitable and therefore happy lives. Paul very naturally feels that he should turn life’s corners in manner which is in keeping with his doctrines.

The founder of Rotary has ever been an experimenter. Many of his experiments have failed, some have been successful and of those which have succeeded, a few have proven useful He hopes to continue his experimentations in the laboratory of life as long as life lasts.

He would not, however, create the impression that he is so deeply engrossed in future generations that he has neither time nor disposition to think of self. There are many things besides usefulness which he covets, though in the final analysis, they all make for usefulness. They are necessary to the maintenance of the physical well being without which there can be no usefulness. Wonderful is this provision of nature whereby man may happily serve himself while serving others; thus selfishness is harnessed up with selflessness to the good of all.

The thoughts of others are as necessary to one’s mental well being as food is necessary to one’s physical well being. Through the constant interchange of thought, minds are invigorated, whether such interchange come through reading and writing or through conversation. He who has never learned the blessings of good books has missed the benefits of one of the greatest boons of organized society.

To one who is a lover of nature, there is joy in every beautiful landscape, refreshment in every downpour of rain. If he is a real lover of nature, he loves it in all its moods, in sunshine or in fog, heat or cold, calm or storm.

Paul’s enjoyment of nature is intense. A long distance view from a hill top of a fine agricultural country is his piece de resistance, but he can fully share with Jean the enjoyment of a billowy sea. He is fond of spring with its awakening to life and with the songs of birds but not more than of October with its variegated coloring and the songs of crickets. He has a warm spot in his heart for drizzly, leafless November and another for snow clad January also. To him, every season has its own special charm and nature constitutes a perpetual panorama of loveliness. From nature, he derives not only happiness but the invigoration essential to work. Charles Dickens still remains his favorite author, though David Grayson fits certain moods better than any other.

Paul has for many years been impressed with the thought that one of the chief responsibilities laid upon the shoulders of man, be he young or old, is the responsibility of conserving his moral, mental and physical resources and making the best possible use of them. It is not so much a question as to what an individual’s attainments are as it is a question as to the use to which he puts them. The man of limited capacities who has turned such capacities to good account is entitled to recognition while he who has been profligate of the abundant resources with which he has been endowed, has only himself to blame.

Paul believes that the remaining years of his life, be they many or few, are a trust for which he should render good account; that his mental well being is dependent upon his physical well being and that both mental and physical depend upon the maintenance of his moral tone. He hopes to keep his moral tone wholesome and his mental and physical powers in as good condition as is possible through the observance of the laws of physical and mental hygiene and through keeping ever alive his passion for friendship. Loyally and fervently he hopes that his Scotch lassie and he may walk down the remainder of life’s path way together as did his grandfather and grandmother in the days long since gone by.

The End