A Tribute to DeTurk’s Hardware Store
By Brendan D. Strasser
With the recent closing of DeTurk’s Hardware Store, founded in November 1892, Main Street lost its oldest continuous business. DeTurk’s Good Service Hardware Store was first established at 326 W. Main St. when Eugene P. DeTurk bought out the inventory of Zachariah T. Miller, a son of Richard Y. Miller who had opened a hardware supply shop at his father’s Carriage Works about three years earlier. Zach’s brother, Charles W., conducted the carriage works, dating to about 1842, in the same building. After DeTurk took over the Main St. location for his hardware, the Miller brothers continued to operate a blacksmith’s and woodworking shop to the rear where they performed such odd-jobs as shoeing horses and repairing axles. Across Sander Alley, they had a paint shop as well, making for some lively goings-on between Foundry and Lambert Alleys. During this era, they employed as their superintendent and salesman William F. Schoedler, who by 1903 had established a bakery two doors up the block at 332 W. Main.
In 1901, DeTurk razed the ancient log home of Stephen Esser across Main Street at No. 325 and, three years later, completed the present structure located there (formerly the Western Auto and Computer Wizards, currently Misfits Liquidations), where he and two sons, John William and Lawrence Amos, conducted their hardware business for many years. In 1961, Marvin I. Beltzner relocated it to its first home, at No. 326, where it remained until October 2024, following the September 21 death of long-time owner Stan Chmielewski at age 82.
Sometimes it takes a century or more for things to fall into place. The incident narrated below occurred in 1896, when Lawrence DeTurk was still a little boy. H. Wayne Gruber, DeTurk’s employee, wrote the original poem recounting it in 1949, fully 53 years later, in the Pennsylvania German dialect, more or less, with a few unconventional spellings. Another 12 years passed before it first appeared in print, along with contributor DeTurk’s explanatory note, in the 4 March 1961 issue of the Kutztown Patriot. Family relative J. Carroll Neiman clipped and saved the column, which was stowed away for decades and donated, along with many other dialect clippings that were part of his estate, to the Kutztown Area Historical Society in 2005 by his daughter, Doris Brunt. At that time, acting quickly upon our request, former Kutztonian Paul Kunkel – whose penchant for telling tall tales made him a natural for the task – completed the English translation below in March 2006. So, 128 years after the fact, the Historical Society would like to thank (all now deceased) Eugene, John, Lawrence, Marvin, and Stan for all the memories, Carroll for his foresight and Doris for her donation, and Paul for his graceful rendering of an English version of an otherwise forgotten event in the daily life of Kutztown.
Der Lawrence un der Hund
Wie ich im Kutzeschdeddel deheem waar
Im Yaahr achtzeh hunner sex un neinzich,
Do waar ich Glarrick imme hardware Schtor
Ge-eeggent beim Eugene Darrick eleenich.
En Kutschemacher Schapp waar im seem Gebei;
Der Blackschmidt Schapp waar graad hinnedro.
En Schmitt waar datt bei Naame Charley Fry;
Paar Rude weck waar die Hof Fens noh.
En grosser pole datt gschdanne hot
Paar Fuss vun sellere Hof Fens eweck
Fer die wires henke, un en Licht druff ghatt
Fer nachts Helling mache an sellem Eck.
En Schtubb waar schee abgedeelt im Schtor,
Wu ich drin gscholfe had alle Nachde.
En gedreier grosser Hund bei mir waar,
Der mir als gholfe hot nachts zu wachde.
Der Darrick (deTurk) hot paar gleene Buwe ghatt,
Der John waar’s eldscht, der anner Lawrence gheese.
Sie hen viel Zeit bei mir rumgebrocht datt,
Un waare net schloo fer Dricks uffzulese.
Sie waare awwer schmaude chaps gewest,
Sie hen mir oft helfe uffzubutze;
Net ball hen sie ebbes im Schtor verletzt,
Doch alsemol waare sie Nixnutze.
Der Lawrence hot en gleener Wagge ghatt;
Hot der Hund als en die Deixel gschpannt;
En Gscharr hot der aa fer Hund gemacht ghatt;
Awwer die Deixel hot em Hund in die Bee gelangt.
Des hot der Hund als baagi (balky) gemacht.
Noh frogt mich der Lawrence eb ich net kennt
En paar Lanne dro mache, un lacht;
Er hot arrig oft an Dricks gedenkt.
Ee Daag iss sei Paepp noch Philadelphia gange
Fer eizukaafe, un waar drei Daag fatt.
Der Lawrence hot graad vun de Lanne aagfange;
Saag ich, “die Lanne im Schtor sin zu gross fer datt.”
Saagt er, “Ich weess wu gleene schtehne,
Sie schtehne am Blackschmitt hinne dro;
Ich hab sie datt schunn en gans Yaahr gsehne,”
Un schpringt ab un schleeft sie hinne noo.
Die waare fer’n pony, schmaal un kaz.
Hawwich gsaat, “Hoscht du gfrogt eb sie hawwe kenscht?--
“Ya, der Charley Fry, der mit sellem Schaz,
Saagt der Mann will sie nimmi, un der Naame genennt.”
Ich mach sie fescht am Lawrence sei Waagge;
Der Hund eigschpannt un noh fatt gfaahre;
Was waar er so schdols dorum zu yaagge;
Der Hund uff eemol schpitzt sei Ohre.
Es schpringt en Katz an der Hof Fens naus;
Der Hund geht ab wie en Feier Schtrahl;
Der Wagge drefft den pole un er reisst sich
Aus seim Gscharr, awwer hot die Katz verlore.
Die Lanne waare in Schticker verbroche.
Sei Paepp kummt heem der naegscht Daag;
’S hot gscheint er hot ebbes geroche.
Hot awwer gewiss net ee Watt gsaat.
Der Mann kummt fer sei Lann der seeme Daag.
Hawwich gedenkt “Nau gebt’s mol ebbes.”--
Der Lawrence uu ich waare bissel verzaagt,
Awwer sei Paepp, hot’s gscheint, hot ghatt ken Grebbes.
Was ich weess, hot sei Paepp Yuuch Darrick,
En paar Lanne gemacht griegge misse;
Der Lawrence un ich hen gemeent’s waer arrick;
Es naegscht Mol duhne mer besser wisse.
Des is die Schtori vum Lawrence seim Hund,
Wu er in seim gleene Wagge gschpannt hot;
Mit selle Lanne geht alles zu Grund--
Awwer net die Katz, wu alles verhaust hot.
Lawrence and the Dog
When I was at home in Kutztown
In the year 1896,
Here I was a clerk in a hardware store
Owned alone by Eugene DeTurk.
A carriage-maker shop was in the same building;
The blacksmith shop was right behind.
The blacksmith was there named Charley Fry;
A pair of rows away was the yard fence.
A large pole stood there
A couple feet from that yard fence
To hang wires, and had a light on it
To make night light at that corner.
A room was nicely set apart in the store,
Where I worked every night.
A faithful large dog was with me,
Which helped me watch at night.
DeTurk had a couple of small boys,
John was the oldest, the other named Lawrence.
They spent much time there with me,
And were not slow to pick up tricks.
But they were smart lads,
They often helped me clean up;
Not ever did they spoil things in the store,
Yet now and then they were mischievous.
Lawrence had a small wagon;
Tied the dog to the tongue;
A harness had he made for the dog;
But the tongue extended in the dog’s legs.
This made the dog balky.
Then Lawrence asked me if I could
Put a pair of shafts on, and laughed;
He often thought of tricks.
One day his father went to Philadelphia
To purchase things, and was gone three days.
Lawrence started about the shafts;
Said I, “The shafts in the store are too big for there.”
Said he, “I know where smaller stand,
They stand at the blacksmith behind;
I saw them there for a whole year,”
And ran off dragging them behind.
They were for a pony, small and short.
I said, “Did you ask if you could have them?”
“Yes, Charley Fry, he with that apron,
Said the man doesn’t want them, and mentioned his name.”
I made them fast at Lawrence’s wagon;
Harnessed the dog and then drove off;
He was so proud to chase around;
All at once, the dog’s ears went up.
There ran a cat along the yard fence;
The dog took off like lightning;
The wagon hit the pole, and he tore
His traces, but lost the cat.
The shafts were broken into pieces.
His father comes home the next day;
It appeared he had smelled something
But really never said a word.
The man came for his shafts the same day.
I thought, “Now something will happen.”
Lawrence and I were a little afraid,
But his father, it seems, had no rudeness.
What I know, the father of young DeTurk
Had to have a pair of shafts made;
Lawrence and I thought it was uncommon;
Next time we’ll know better.
This is the story of Lawrence’s dog,
Which he hitched to his small wagon;
With those shafts all goes to ruin --
But not the cat, which had spoiled everything.
Following is Lawrence A. DeTurk’s note accompanying the 1961 publication: “This poem was written by H. Wayne Gruber, who was clerk in Eugene P. DeTurk’s hardware store about 1896 to 1898. It was then situated on the south side of West Main Street at 324 and 326. He used considerable poetic license in writing the poem. The facts are a farmer brought a pair of buggy shafts to the carriage works to be repaired and painted. The customer instructed William Schoedler, the foreman at the carriage works, to set them outside so that he could pick them up after working hours. We had a box with wheels and an axle, probably from a discarded baby coach, nailed to the bottom of the box. Wayne Gruber had made a harness for the dog so we had a dog, a harness and a wagon but no shafts. The newly painted shafts looked good to us, so we sawed them off at the length we wanted and brought them to Mr. Gruber, who nailed them to the side of the box. The pole mentioned was a large telephone pole at the rear of the home of Mrs. William Stettler, 316 W. Main. The pole was about 15 or 18 inches from the fence. The cat ran between the pole and the fence, the dog followed and the wagon stuck. The dog was a large Newfoundland named Rover. He was so powerful that when the men at the shop saw me leading him, they would call him to see him drag me. I was about 7 years old at the time.”
