Citation: Anna M. Nokes, “The Big Quarry,” The Baldwin 2, no. 5 (1895): pp. 59-60.
To some persons our quarries, though perhaps interesting, may not he particularly beautiful; hut to one who loves the town from long association, they have many points of beauty, and I shall take no greater subject than that which is familiarly called the Big Quarry, to distinguish it from the smaller one near it. It is situated behind the Berea Bank.
When I was a child of nine or ten that quarry was a scene of busy activity. Early on summer mornings streams of laboring men with dinner pails in their hands made their way to this, the scene of their day's labor, the place where they earned their bread, in truth, by the sweat of their brows.
At that time my home was on the south side of town and we children invariably chose to make our way through this interesting, though forbidden country, rather than save shoes and clothing by taking a longer, though safer, route. At my earliest recollection of the place it was already quarried to a great depth, and .extended, as some of you who have been here a year or two will remember, to the very foundations of the Bank building, and along the road on that side to within a few feet of the road on the west side. There at the bottom of the stone shore, white in the sun, noisy trenching machines worked away with untiring zeal, busy little drills tapped holes into the hard stone, and, to i:ny childish mind, most interesting of all , a small hand-car stood, at noon and night as we came from school, on a track laid from the north to the south side of the quarry. Here I have spent many blissful moments with other children, both girls and boys, pushing the car up the slight incline and jumping on to ride to the other end of the track.
So much for the quarry in those happy days. Gradually the water came, first a little pool, then it rose higher and higher, until at last the workmen gathered up their tools and left the water to fill to the brim this basin they had made in the earth, until that place formerly so full of busy sounds was nothing but a quiet, blue body of water, glimmering in the sunlight.
Two years ago you would have seen a deep basin walled up with stone on one side, where once, the wall giving way, cast no small part of the public highway into the quiet depth of the water; and on the west side that common blessing of us all, the "Hog's Back," by which we learn, in winter, to appreciate the buildings and trees which elsewhere break the winter's blast, and in summer, to be grateful for the cool shade of the fine old maples which are the glory of our town.
In those days had you chosen a quiet moonlighted summer evening to view the beauties of this scene from the bridge, you would have agreed with me that it is a beautiful spot. You would have seen the dark waters lying as smooth and quiet as a mirror, reflecting the light of moon and stars and the dark line of green shrubs and grasses on the further bank. To the right as you stood facing the scene, the busy saw-mill, working almost silently under the power of electricity, the one brilliantly lighted part of the scene; contrasting with it, to the left a glimpse of Bridge street, deeply shaded by its beautiful trees, and in this deep gloom, one tiny shining star of light, the cheerful lamp-light from the pretty, Ettie brick house on the corner.
Were you careworn and harassed by many cares, a glimpse of this quiet scene could not fail to bring a measure of peaceful rest to your weary soul.
Man tears up the earth, digs down into it and leaves an ugly blot, but God sends the water to cover part, and the green shrubs and grasses to grow over the rest, and it is all beautiful again.
Man twists and tears and blots his immortal soul but when he turns it over to God, He sends the waters of salvation and the fruitful trees of righteousness and turns the wilderness into an Eden.
Since that time a large part of our pretty little lake has been filled in, making some parts of our landscape not quite so pretty, but it still has its beauties.
From this same part of our town, I could paint to your minds many other pretty bits from memory's picture gallery.
With limited time and space I can only mention the times when kindly winter spreads a pure, white cover over the unsightly clay banks, and the frost-king turns the water into firm, smooth ice. Then its surface is often crowded with merry skaters, in the afternoon when the pale winter sun looks down upon the scene, and in the evening when it is lit by the dancing light of a huge bon-fire on the bank, from which some frolicsome boy snatches a blazing brand and dashes swiftly away over the ice, leaving a long line of sparks behind him, and to your ears through the clear air might come the click of bright steel runners mingled with the sound of merry laughter.
This is but one of the beautiful spots, and that perhaps the most unpromising at first thought, as a bit of beauty, and I assure you that if you but use your eyes with care, you will find many others and perhaps when you leave us, your mind may still retain pleasant pictures of the home of your alma mater.
Citation: Kieth A. Peppers, 2020.
Quarrying activity near Baldwin University’s original campus necessitated it complete relocation. A local newspaper referred to the unbearable nuisance sound, soot, and smoke from the quarry was having on students, further necessitating the move. The land on which the campus stood was sold in 1888 with news spreading quickly that Baldwin University was looking to relocate. Towns and villages around Ohio made their proposals for the school with Berea and its residents successfully convincing BU to stay put. The money collected by residents to help purchase land north of Bagley Road solidified the deal. Twenty acres of land provided space for construction and student activity. Two of the halls from the original campus, Hulet and Ladies’, were painstakingly moved block by block and rebuilt on what we now call north campus. Construction of Recitation Hall and the Philura Gould Baldwin Library would soon follow. Recitation was renamed Wheeler. Hulet was demolished in the 1970s to make way for a parking lot between Ritter and Lang. Ladies’ Hall became the Carnegie Science Hall, which in turn became part of the Malicky Center along with the Philura Gould Baldwin Library.
Citation: Kieth A. Peppers, 2020.
1893 saw the introduction of collegiate football at both German Wallace College and Baldwin University, with each forming its own teams. The existence of two separate teams and the friendly rivalry they had lasted just one season before the two teams were merged into one, mirroring the collaborative spirit that permeated the two schools. The only game of the 1893 season was against Oberlin. The game was a complete shutout, ending with a score around 83-0, though Oberlin’s score varies slightly from report-to-report. The team consisted of Wesley Jend, Wehrman, Dreiske, Gus Jend, Herzer, Jandre, Samuel Marting, Thaiss, Dahlenberg, Burkle, Stephan, George Marting, and Lampert.