Henthorn Sr., Arthur Carter

Dr. Arthur Carter Henthorn, Sr.
by
Evangeline Mary (Henthorn) Caudy
June 1993

My father, Arthur Carter Henthorn, was born on 24 Oct 1888 at Vanceburg, Lewis county, KY, to Benjamin Royal and Mary Emma (Scott) Henthorn. Two other children were born to them: Benjamin Royal, the second child who was still born and Eugene Agustus who was born on 26 Jul 1895. Agustus, as he was called, was drowned in the Ohio River on 30 Jul 1910.

Arthur was a smart child and a handful (I think) for his parents, Meema and Papa. He had as good an education as Meema and Papa could give him. He attended the Riverview Seminary in Vanceburg, KY and hedecided he wanted to be a medical doctor. My grandparents borrowed the money to put him through medical school in Louisville, Kentucky.He graduated, with honors, in 1910 and started practicing medicine in West Virginia. He was the doctor for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway for a while. While working in West Virginia he met my mother, Myrtle Evangeline Kennedy, born on 6 Oct 1894 in Concho, WV. They were married on 29 Dec 1911.

On 23 Oct 1912, at Vanceburg, Lewis county, KY, the author of this account, Evangeline Mary Henthorn, was born to Arthur and Myrtle Evangeline. A second child, my brother, Arthur Carter Henthorn, Jr. was born on 4 Feb 1915 at Garrison, Lewis county, KY.

When World War I started my father went in as a Second Lieutenant and he came out of the service as a Captain. After he returned to Vanceburg, KY he was offered the job of Administrator in the Veterans Administration office in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He took the job and my mother and brother went with him. He wanted me to go too, but I wanted to live with Meema and Papa, and would not go with them. And, that it how it happened that my grandparents raised me. I lived with them in Vanceburg until 1935. They both died in that year. Papa died on 14 Feb 1935 and Meema died on 28 May 1935. Meema had cancer and Papa died of a heart attack, because of worry about her. They were both buried in the Old Cemetery at Vanceburg, KY.

In the meantime, my father and mother were divorced. Dad married Muriel Lambourne and in 1924 he moved to St. John's, MI where he started a practice. Buck, as my brother was called, went back to West Virginia with my mother. Dad was not only a good general doctor, he was a fine surgeon as well and performed many operations. He was instrumental in getting the St. John's Hospital financed and built in 1926. Buck was unhappy in West Virginia so he moved to St. John's, in 1926, to live with Dad and Muriel.

He had a very good practice in St. John's and made friends with a lot of people. Besides being a successful doctor and surgeon he loved hunting and fishing. He took many trips up north to follow his yen for the outdoor life. That was his way of relieving the tension and pressure of his practice. A doctor is not supposed to make any mistakes and he tired not to make any.

On 15 Aug 1940, at Fort Wayne, Allen county, IN, Dad was married for a third time to Alice Rice.

He had a major heart attack in 1945 and was house bound for a long time. He never went back to the strenuous practice that he had. He built a brick home in the country.

In 1949, my brother Buck, contracted cancer of the kidney and Dad took him to the Mayo Clinic. He was told that the cancer was inoperable and to take him back to Michigan. He died on 1 Sep 1949, within a month of his return to St. John's, MI. My father never got over his death. Buck was only 34 years old when he died and he never had any children. Buck was buried at the Mt. Rest Cemetery in St. John's.

Dad and Alice enjoyed their very nice brick home in the country and were very happy there. Dad lived to be 81 years old. He died on 15 May 1970, while on a visit with Alice's parents in Riceville, Howard county, Iowa. He was buried on 19 May 1970 at the Mt. Rest Cemetery in St. John's, Clinton county, MI. After Dad's death, Alice sold the country home and bought a house, not too far from me, in St. John's and we talked to each other every day.

Recollections of Elizabeth (Henthorn) Caudy

Recollections of Elizabeth (Henthorn) Caudy

My grandfather, Benjamin Royal Henthorn, always said that he named himself and that he did not have a given name until he was seven years old. He went to work at an iron foundry in Ironton, Ohio when he was a young boy. He made the large sum of three dollars a week. He asked to have the money made up into pennies and took it all home to his mother. He had very little formal education. He was always a hard worker and had a great deal of charm and was very good looking. He was not too tall, but more stocky. He went by the nickname, "Wink," because he was quick on his feet and agile.

He and my grandmother, Mary Emma Scott, were married in December 1887. They had planned to get married in the spring of 1888 but because of bad weather he had stayed all night with the family. The family thought it would, "look better," if they got married. In those days people were very conscious of the "moral mores" of the day.

They had three sons born to them. My father, Arthur Carter Henthorn, was the only one to live to maturity. He was the first born. Another son, Benjamin Royal, was born about three years after my father, but he lived only twelve days. Agustus Henthorn, the third son was born about four years after the second son. He lived until he was fifteen years old when he drowned in the Ohio River.

My grandparents lived in the little town of Vanceburg, Kentucky. Papa, as I always called my grandfather, was a barber by trade and a very good one too. The death of my Uncle Gus had a profound influence on his life. He joined the Christian Church and was baptized and lived a good life from then on and was always good to his family. Papa used to drink a little but after the death of Gus he gave up drink entirely. His mother-in-law always lived with them and he thought a great deal of her and she said he was like a son to her. In fact, he was better to her than her own son, who was something of a wanderer, but that's another story.

Papa and grandmother, Meema, as I always called her, raised me from the time that I was four.

Grandfather had strong opinions about everything and he was not afraid to voice them. The KKK was quite a popular organization in the early twenties and Papa was approached to join. He told them in no uncertain terms that he would not have anything to do with such an organization and that they should just leave him alone.

He was strong on politics too. He was a Republican and Meema was a Democrat and the arguments used to be pretty heavy when I was a little girl. As they grew older though they quit arguing about politics and about a lot of other things as well.

Papa and Meema died in 1935, within 5 months of each other. Meema had cancer and took sick first in January. Papa was very worried about her and realized that she could not get well. In the early part of February, Papa had a heart attack and died within a week. Meema died the following May. They are both buried "on the hill" at the Greenlawn Cemetery which overlooks Vanceburg, Kentucky and the Ohio River.