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Note: I know that Aunt Dude worked for Crosly Corporation. I believe she was instrumental in getting my father his first real job. She was bright, articulate and an absolute stickler for proper grammer. She once wrote a letter to Hugh Downs because he made some sort of grammatical faux pas on his television show. He endeared himself to her forever by replying with a suitably contrite letter.
Aunt Dude was the sharpest card player I ever saw. She loved all card games. When she came for a visit most evenings were consumed with Hearts and, if a large crowd was gathered, Michigan Rummy. I remember well playing Hearts one evening at the kitchen table in Camp Hill. There was a large crowd gathered in the house, a hubbub going on everywhere. I stood watching the game as Aunt Dude instructed me to do. She refused to explain any card game to children. She insisted that the best way to learn was to watch. Anyway, on one hand the play came around to her and she threw out a card, seemingly without thinking. She exclaimed immediately that she had not meant to play that card. The other players immediately implored her to return the card to her hand but Aunt Dude, as was her way, insisted that the game must be played by the rules and the rules applied to everyone, "A card laid is a card played!" So the play continued, everyone ducking her card so that she was forced to take the trick. In that way Aunt Dude ridded her hand of its only loser and went on to shoot the moon.
My mother adored Aunt Dude. In the absence of her own mother, who passed away before I was even born, Aunt Dude was my mom's supreme role model. She was for me a peek into another way of life. A style that did not survive my family's move from Cincinnati to Camp Hill. Aunt Dude travelled to our house by train. She caught a taxi in Harrisburg and by that means arrived at our front door. No one was to pick her up at the station, she would do it all herself, thank you. She always arrived very late at night, at least by my standards. I would go to bed the night before, fraught with excitement in anticipation of her arrival. I strained to stay awake and vowed to myself that if I should fall asleep I would awaken upon her arrival. Aunt Dude always brought me a nice toy. I remember, in particular, a helicopter that actually flew.
The only negative aspect of her arrival was that my sister was forced out of her bedroom and into mine to make room for Aunt Dude. Because Aunt Dude snored loudly we were serenaded all night long. She was active and staunch. Her mind was made up on most things and her manner was unyielding. Yet, at the same time, she was warm and caring. I loved her dearly. I also recall that I was amazed because Aunt Dude, when she was in town, walked everywhere. I don't think she ever learned to drive and I don't think she ever viewed her lack of training in this regard as the slightest handicap. She gladly walked to the shopping center, miles away, to spend an afternoon.
I last saw Aunt Dude upon my only visit to Cincinnati when I was in veterinary school. I was on a rotation at Ohio State University and I made a trip to Cincy where Aunt Nancy met me and took me to see Aunt Dude. She was over ninety then she resided in a single, very nicely appointed room in a home. She was not one ounce less sharp than I remembered her. We went out for lunch and I was somewhat ill at ease, mostly because I had not really thought of Aunt Dude in twenty years. She had thought of me, however. She seemed to know everything about where I had been and what schools I had attended. There is so much in my life that I would do differently.
The 1910 U.S. Census lists Aunt Dude (Louise) as 22 years old and unmarried, living in her parents' home. At this time she is listed as a "clerk", along with her sister, Edna, in her father's grocery store.
In 1920 Census Louise M. is the only child still living with her parents and is listed as single.
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