Remembering Harry Ream
PHOTOS of the Ream display. Click the gallery to enlarge and view at your own pace.
By Bill Herr
Thousands have seen the Ream Christmas display that originated on the Ream farm in 1938 and now is displayed each year at Christmastime on the Bluffton Presbyterian Church lawn. This story is about its founder, Harry Ream.
I first met Harry on October 22, 2001, when he had just become a resident at Richland Manor Nursing Home near Beaverdam. I was a volunteer there, meeting with men who were residents for a weekly meeting.
My wife and I had traveled each year to the Ream farm to see their Christmas display. We knew that Harry made the cut outs of the figures and that his wife Dorothy was an artist and painted them.
When I heard that Harry was to become a new resident at the nursing home, I was excited to meet him. When he came to our meeting room, I extended my right hand to Harry and was stunned to see that he didn't have his right hand. He smiled and put out his left hand. We shook hands and that began a friendship I will never forget.
He explained that he was a farmer and had lost his hand in a corn picker accident. I knew exactly what had happened because on our farm when our corn picker clogged up, my dad would always pull on the stalks while the picker was running to unclog them. It always made me nervous.
Harry told me that after the accident, his neighbors came to his farm and harvested his crops. He said that for the next 40 years, he and Dorothy would take the neighbors out to a local restaurant and treat them to a meal to thank them for their generosity.
At our men's meetings at Richland Manor, I would select different topics to discuss and try to involve the residents. At the first meeting Harry attended, the topic was corn shocking. This involved tying several corn stalks together and then placing groups of them in a shock that resembled a tepee, a North American Indian conical tent.
In my notes from Richland Manor I wrote: "Harry led the discussion." I quickly learned that Harry loved to talk about things and people, loved his neighbors, never said a bad work about anyone, only good. In his obituary were these words: "He never met a stranger."
I learned that Harry had an Amish friend that made milk stools. Harry would have them made and give them away to children and grandchildren. He would tell them they could leave them plain or paint them. At Richland Manor Harry would take an interest in children that came with their parents to visit someone. He would ask them to go to his car, open the trunk and take out a stool as a gift.
When we talked about his Christmas display, I told him my favorite figures were the angels that were high on the corner of his barn. He said he put them up himself every year. I said I couldn't see how he could do that with only one good hand. He told at our meeting (some had also seen his display) how he and Dorothy created the beautiful, magical winter scene that so many visited to view each year. People came from all over Northwest Ohio and beyond to see it, and many repeated the visit each year. Cars would be lined up and each would slowly drive by. We always rolled down our windows so we could hear the Christmas music. The scene was especially magical if snow covered the ground. It truly brought a joyful Christmas mood and spirit to me, and to all that witnessed it.
On February 25, 2002, I asked the men at our meeting what was the hardest job they ever did. "Shocking corn," Harry said. On May 20, 2002, the day after Mother's Day, I asked each man what his mother's name was and what was something he remembered about her. Harry responded, "Effie - she told us on rainy days, 'If you boys don't behave, I'll tell your father." Then he said, "She never did."
At our meeting on June 17, 2002, Harry talked about Fred and Mabel Marquart and other couples that were friends of the Reams. He said ten couples came to their farm on New Year's Eve and played cards and other games. Weather permitting, one game was played outside and involved some climbing up in trees. I didn't write down any game details, but did write that Harry said there was one woman in the group that would climb up.
On August 12, 2002, we talked farming again. Harry said his dad died when he was 11 and he had to assume much responsibility. He farmed until the age of 80. He liked the man that farmed for him at present. He knew the fields that gave the best yields. Harry had worked at other jobs, including working for Reichenbach Lumber in Bluffton. One of his first jobs was plowing snow for Orange Township with a team of horses. (Note: if you would like to see what a snow blade on wheels looked like in those days, my Uncle Forrest donated one to Richland Township. It is exhibited outside the Township Garage on 8435 N. Dixie Highway.)
After Harry's death at age 92 on January 12, 2003, I was asked to share memories of Harry at his funeral. I asked some of the staff at Richland Manor for remembrances. Nursing assistants Robin and Lilly said, "He was a sweetheart. He thanked us over and over for what we did." The Case Manager, Pat, said, "When I walked by Harry's room, he would say, 'Good morning.' I would reply, 'How are you?' He would answer, 'Lazy,' but he wasn't."
An LPN named Lorna said,’ “He was the most wonderful man – always told us nice things.” The Director of Nursing, Pam, related, “he had many stories to share about farming, his children and grandchildren. He loved his family. He showed us pictures, he had so much knowledge, he had a love of life."
Harry's funeral was held at Riley Creek Baptist Church. I'll never forget what I saw when I emerged from the church after the funeral. Standing outside was a team of beautiful black draft horses hitched to a black funeral hearse. They were waiting to transport Harry to Hasson Cemetery in Van Buren Township. He would have appreciated the style of travel.
Just knowing Harry Ream made me a better person. At Richland Manor we sometimes did lessons from the Bible. I learned that Harry had a deep and abiding faith. Charles Stanley once wrote, "The mark of a Spirit-filled man or woman is the fruit they bear. Fruit is the standard by which our walk with God is measured." It is easier to exhibit the fruit of the Spirit during good times. I knew Harry Ream when his health had declined, but he was still very fruitful in his living. He was a great listener and cared for the other men in our meetings, and what they shared. He was just a special, wonderful person. The legacy of what he and Dorothy left in donating their Christmas display to the village of Bluffton will live on as a focal point of Bluffton's yearly Blaze of Lights celebration. And I'm sure that who Harry was as a person will live on through future generations of his family.
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Bill Herr taught high school mathematics and science for 32 years. After retiring from teaching, he began a nursing home ministry. He served as chaplain at a nursing home for 24 years. He has since written columns relating to sports memories from high school experiences and columns relating to experiences at the nursing home.