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Loyla Henriette Von Osten Ohmer

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Loyla Henriette Von Osten Ohmer

February 21, 1900 – December 18, 1977

By Judy and Susan Ohmer, granddaughters

Loyla was one of the first children in Petersburg, arriving in 1903 with her father Captain Von Oston, when she was only three.  They sailed to Alaska when the town of Petersburg was not much older than she was.  Her father purchased a house, and the two of them returned to Tacoma to get the rest of the family.

When Loyla, her little sister Edna, and parents Henriette and Carl Von Osten settled in Petersburg, the Norwegian language was commonly heard on the streets.  Loyla’s mother was of Norwegian heritage and her father of German/Prussian, so there was a comfort in calling the developing Scandinavian town home.

As young girls, Loyla and Edna enjoyed their dollhouse furniture, setting it up in different ways and telling stories of life.  They also treasured their Noah’s ark with the carved wooden animals.  As they grew, they learned the homemaking and handicrafts skills necessary for a self-sustaining lifestyle:  sewing, knitting, cooking/baking, preserving, laundry, cleaning, and gathering the harvest (various berries, clams, etc. which were so plentiful in Petersburg).

Loyla married Earl Nicholas Ohmer in 1918.  They reared four children, Bob, Dave, Jim, and Patti.

In addition to her own family, Loyla also cooked for the cannery mechanic, the assistant mechanic, his wife and baby who lived with the Ohmers for several years.  The baby was born in the front bedroom because somebody in the hospital had measles, and they were trying to avoid exposure to the disease.  Dinner was served and grace was said at 5:30 each evening.  Those who were not seated at that point got to clear the table, wash and dry the dishes, and clean up the kitchen.  The women made clothes for all the children.

In the summertime Loyla and the children headed for “Bum’s Retreat” at Green Rocks across from Papkee’s Landing.  They left for the cabin the day after school got out and didn’t come back until the day before school started, except for a trip to town for the Fourth of July parade and celebration.  They packed water from the creek and recycled it through dishes and bathes until it was finally used on the garden.  They referred to the outhouse at “Bum’s Retreat” as “Bum’s Relief.”  Earl would join them every weekend aboard The Jim, bringing guests and fresh foods from town.  In keeping with their family tradition, he would prepare salmon Indian style, as it was called, with the side of fish standing up in the fire on a stick.

In both the spring and fall, picnicking at Sandy Beach was popular.  They pulled a wagon over the boardwalk and enjoyed the changing colors of the muskeg at the different times of year.  Berry picking was often a part of the adventure, depending on the season.  Blueberries, huckleberries, salmonberries, and cranberries were profuse.  At Sandy Beach there were clams to dig – and nobody could fry pink-necked clams better – crispy on the outside and succulent inside.

At Christmastime, Loyla organized the children to fill over 100 decorated boxes with candy and nuts to give to the cannery workers.  Colorful ribbon candy was a favorite. Another holiday treat was pitting dates, filling them with walnuts and rolling them in powdered sugar.  Loyla baked walnut bread that was especially good as toast.

And she made melt-in-your-mouth Berliner Kranse using her favorite recipe:

  • 8 egg yolks (4 hard and 4 raw)
  • 1 pound butter
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • ½  teaspoon baking powder
  • 2 cups powdered sugar
  • 6 cups flour

Press sugar and hardboiled yolks together.  Add raw yolks and mix well.  Work in butter and flour.  Chill overnight.  Pinch off a small portion and roll the size of little finger.  Shape into small ring and lap end over each other, pinching together.  Dip in beaten egg whites and then into granulated sugar.  Bake at 400 degrees until light brown.

Loyla had many interests.  She enjoyed gardening, especially for an early spring bloom of daffodils and narcissi. And she loved to pick cranberries in the fall.  She grew rhubarb to supply the many requests for her famous Rhubarb Cream Pie with Mile High Meringue.       She was an avid bridge player, meeting every Friday in a different friends home. She was also enthusiastic about solitaire, playing many varieties, among them “free cell.”  She was an animated member of community theatrical productions presented at the Sons of Norway.  She liked the stage and the entertainment it provided for the town. Loyla was active in Eastern Star and in the Women of the Moose.  She collected ceramic Siamese cats, displaying them on a mirrored shelf in her livingroom.

She was active with many handiworks.  She wove afghans on a loom and crocheted the squares together.  She knit mittens, caps, and sweaters, and she braided rugs from wool strips she’d made from old shirts and pants.

When she wasn’t busy with family and community activities, Loyla loved to travel.  She visited in California, Canada, and Bryce Canyon, Washington, D.C. and Chicago, and even further north into interior Alaska.  She visited her father in New York who had retired to Long Island to make sails, returning with gifts he’d made for her children – tents and saddlebags for their bikes complete with snaps.  In later years she visited extended family in Norway.

After Earl Ohmer’s death in 1955, Loyla married Eiler Wikan. They lived in a cottage at the end of what was called “Lutheran Hill” with a field of daffodils in the front yard.  On Sunday’s after church they would make Swedish pancakes for the grandchildren.  And in the winter they made potato balls for dinner, carrying on the Norwegian tradition they both loved.  They had a cookie drawer, the special place for store-bought treats that the grandchildren loved to raid.  And she still made Berliner Kranse.

Gloria Lucille Ohmer

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Gloria Lucille Ohmer

November 24, 1925 –

By Judy and Susan Ohmer, daughters

Gloria Lucille Anderson arrived in Petersburg on April 28, 1949, aboard an Alaska steam ship for a two-week visit with friends.  By the time she was to return to Everett, Washington, 14 days later, she had already decided that “this was her spot,” and she’d taken a job.  She said, “I loved Alaska.  It offered opportunity – and the exhilaration of possibility.  It was a land of extremes and of characters.  I felt as if I were coming home for the first time.”

Born in Chicago, November 24, 1925, Gloria started Kindergarten in Everett, Washington, as the Great Depression began.  It was, she said, a time of incredible struggle, of heartache, of sadness, loss, and hunger.  But somewhere in a child’s view of life, she learned to look for the good around her, and this viewing point sustained her through many challenges for the rest of her life

Both her parents worked.  She came home to an empty house, built a fire, started dinner, and watched over her little brother.  She dreamed of a home filled with laughter and warmth, with someone to greet her and be interested in her day.  This colored her life and propelled her into many ventures, among them the trip to Alaska.

Opportunity on the “Last Frontier” presented itself immediately.  Gloria wasn’t familiar with the work she was first asked to do, but said, “I could probably do that.” And with that, guessing she could probably do something became her words to life by as she went from opportunity to opportunity.

Her first job was as cook in a remote construction site where the city was installing new transformers at the hydroelectric plan.  She bought the only cookbook she could find, purchased eights months of groceries, and flew to Blind Slough.  She cooked there from April through November, learning to bake bread and feed a hungry crew.

After six months at the camp where Joy of Cooking was her Bible, Gloria returned to Petersburg.  She accepted other work, from clerking at Electro Service, to sketching mink and doing autopsies at a fur farm, and working in the post office. “I continued to be inspired by the rugged frontier and the chance to carve out a life of my own making.”

One morning while she was putting in a window display at Don Pettigrew’s service store, there was a tap on the window.  She turned around to find a man making a face at her.  Dave Ohmer later came in to apologize; he’d thought she was someone else.  They began a friendship that deepened.  Their dates included dancing at the old Elks Club, digging clams, playing cards with DeBoers and Pettigrews, and hunting.  Of these family stories, her children believed she’d once climbed into the cavity of a moose to stay warm, but she later claimed she had only used ducks for mittens.

She says of her life after marriage that she chose to “focus on raising our five children, keep books for the cannery, and do charitable and community service work,” noting that Petersburg didn’t have social service such as orphanages/foster homes or alcoholic treatment programs, meals-on-wheels, humane societies, domestic violence shelters, etc. “People needed to help people.”  Gloria was what she considered to be a “behind-the-scenes worker” who supported others to a healthier, happier life.  But she was also a leader, an initiator of ideas, a woman of big heart.  “Our home was always open and was usually very full.”  Indeed, her children were accustomed to steeping over sleeping bodies in the livingroom on many mornings.

She and Fran Lund headed up the Alter Society’s December bake sale, the primary fundraiser for St. Catherine’s Catholic church, a mission church at the time.  Their baking began in October.  Lefse, fattigman, krumkaka, sunkaka, hjortatak, Berliner kranse, and rosettes, were among the many Norwegian specialties that filled the huge tins and vats in their kitchens.  They also pickled herring, and they baked Swedish limpa and stollen for the popular event.

Her hands have always been busy.  The Norwegian baby sweaters she knit were legendary.  Her first quilt won the top prize at the State Fair.  She embroidered, beaded, arranged flowers, wove baskets, and created a colorful garden.  She also liked to pound down walls, build cabinetry, and turn wooden bowls.  While many children think their moms can heal boo-boos with a kiss, Gloria’s kids were witness to near miraculous healings–hamster resuscitations and gold fish revivals occurred with regularity, with solemn funerals being attended when the pet was beyond even her ability to cure.  Any creature—human, furred, or finned—who crossed the threshold of Gloria’s home and stayed for more than 15 minutes was, literally, family.  She was unofficial keeper of statistics at the high school basketball statistics, even when she didn’t have a child on the court. She enjoyed reading poetry, novels, and cookbooks.  She has always been busy bringing in and putting up the harvest – cranberries, clams, rhubarb, and other Alaskan bounty.

 

Hospitality was basically Gloria’s middle name.  She is highly regarded for her cooking talents – from Alaskan seafoods to international menus, as well as family favorites.   A birthday treat was a dinner of your choice, where she was known for such selections as her teriyaki chicken, halibut cheeks, buttermilk biscuits, and split pea soup.  She was a magician in making do, innovating, and stretching things to go around—her “poor man’s sukiyaki” could feed a dozen people with a head of cabbage and a pound of hamburger.

Gloria was musical, but when asked about it she said she just “Played for my own amazement.”  She began in grade school with treble cleft instruments:  e flat alto horn, trombone, and c-soprano sax.  In high school she played bassoon in concert and glockenspiel in marching band.  It was during her solo in “Grand Canyon Suite” that she learned it didn’t work to chew gum and play a reed instrument.  As an adult she played ukulele, harp, piano, organ, and banjo.  She became the organist at St. Catherine’s Catholic Church by what she called accident.  She currently stars on base washtub in the Petersburg’s Norwegian kitchen band, the Lefse Marching Band.

In 1970 she and her sister-in-law Patti Norheim purchased the old Ben Franklin and renamed it The Cache.  It became the heart of downtown, and the place to get everything from house wares to office supplies, toys to red-eared turtles and tourist items, fabrics to framed Rie Munoz artwork.  It was a key community social center; a friendly place to stop for coffee from the back room, encouragement, or to duck in out of the rain.  At the front of the store they served popcorn in “Hungry” and “Starving” sizes.  On the rare summer days it didn’t rain, a sign was posted, “Closed for Sunshine,” and folks gathered at Blind Slough for picnics and jumping off the bridge.  And they would specially open the store whenever the ferry from Kake docked.

Then in 1980 she bought controlling interest in the Tides Inn.  It was a proud moment when the bank loaned her, a woman, a million dollars for the immediate expansion of the motel.  “When I added the conference room and commercial kitchen it brought the ‘hearth and ‘living room’ to the business.  The Tides Inn feels like an extension of who I am and how I believe in living life.  It’s as if I have a big home to open, that is warm and welcoming to guests who happen by.  I feel like I’m finally living my childhood dream.”

Gloria won several State awards for tourism and her work at increasing visitorship and commerce to the area.  She developed a local Elder Hostel program, and worked with Cruise West on creating southeastern tours.  “Living in Petersburg allowed me to do that,” she said, “People were supportive of whatever you wanted to do.  Nothing seemed too far-fetched.”  Gloria’s life work has been written up in the nation’s largest newspapers, and she never told a soul.

Gloria was widowed in 1979.  “Busyness has always helped me work through my pain,” she said, “I thought I needed to be buy 36 hours a day instead of just 20.”  Her spiritual beliefs sustained her, as did her philosophy of looking for the good and for the opportunity in every day.

She remarried in 1996 to Don Koenigs, a neighbor and fellow church member who had recently lost his wife to cancer.

She and Dave Ohmer had five children:  Judy, David, Becky, Penny (Katelyn), and Susan.  She raised her children on the “Bambi rule” (“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say nothin’ at all.”), and the concept that “something good could still happen before midnight.”

“But what I have most sense of legacy about, are my children.  Each has gone on to be successful in what they’ve chosen to do.  Each has a college education, among them a Ph.D. and two Masters degrees, which is quite an accomplishment coming from a rural, isolated setting where they’d never even seen a college or university.  Each has a sense of business and of working with people.  I see them opening their homes and laying out the welcome mat.  And my childhood dream is perpetuated.”2.  Electro Service, an appliance store Don Pettagrew

  1. Fur Farm, Jim Leekley

Both secretarial and lob work – autopsied animals

Four part to one experiment, eg Vitamin E

Yellow fat developed from eating salmon.  Flounder worked best for feeding mink

Trying to find ways to use fish guts

Foxes, martin, mink.  First place in the world to breed martin in captivity

Drew mink – spotting pattern – to later identify when pelted.

Earl Nicholas Ohmer

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Earl Nicholas Ohmer

1882 – 1955

By Judy and Susan Ohmer, granddaughters

earl_ohmerEarl Nicholas Ohmer made his way west from Dayton, Ohio, then north from Seattle, arriving in Petersburg in 1914.  His Alaska-bound map was the words of a new friend Mr. DeArmond, “keep the land on your right.”  With these directions Earl made his way slowly into the Territory of Alaska, following the entire coastline without a chart.  Arriving in the developing Norwegian fishing village of Petersburg in 1914, he pioneered the shrimping industry in Southeastern Alaska.

Earl began to experiment with the catching and processing of shrimp aboard the Osprey, and by 1916 he and his brother-in-law were in business, Earl in Alaska and Karl in Seattle.  They added boats to their fleet over the years – boats of character and colorful historyOne of their first was the Kiseno that took its name from a combination of their initials: Karl I. Sifferman and Earl N. Ohmer.  There was the Charles W., a schooner they noticed when a crowd had gathered on a Seattle dock for a Marshall’s sale; they realized bidders were deliberately keeping the price of the boat low and that that was a sad and wrong thing for the widow who had little else.  Earl and Karl went to opposite sides of the crowd and began bidding the price higher – until they realized that they were bidding against themselves and finally bought the boat, dubbed it the Charles W. after Karl’s grandfather.  Soon after they purchased another boat, and named it the Charles T. after Earl’s grandfather. They painted the boats gray, with red trim, a tradition that stood throughout the history of the shrimping business in Petersburg.

Earl had the ready appearance of a pioneer scouting new territory; and he ran his business in the same manner.  He expanded from shrimping into salmon, halibut, and butter clams, fur farming and gold mining.  At one point he had 12 cannery boats in the shrimping fleet and another processing plant in Cordova.

Generations of many families have worked along side the Ohmers in the shrimping business.  Most notably are the Kainos, the Greiners, and the Kawashimas.

Earl Ohmer was dubbed the “Shrimp King of Alaska.”  His cannery, Alaskan Glacier Sea Food Company, with its label “Frigid Zone” set the gold standard for quality of handpicked shrimp across the country.  He took great pride in his product, the crew who produced it, and the nomenclature on his window and stationery: “Earl Ohmer and Sons.”  A sense of family, community, and legacy were important to him.

Earl was adventurous, industrious, and hospitable – a one-man chamber of commerce, employment office, museum curator, and 24-hour loan officer.  He served on the City Council, was elected Mayor, was chairman of the Alaska Game Commission, was sought out as Territorial Governor, and in the words of his granddaughter Penny/Katelyn Ohmer “Any other thing he could get into for the good of the city, his neighbors, and friends.”

He was accepted and respected outside the town he called home.  The Martins of Kake, Tlingets of the Eagle clan, adopted Earl; his Native name was “Tatuten,” meaning “Still Waters Run Deep.”  National and territorial politicians, stateside businessmen/ industrialists, and movie stars also welcomed him.  To all, he answered the telephone, “Ohmer talkin’.”

He was easily recognized, sporting a winsome smile, a twinkle in his eye, and blue smoke that he blew from his pipe.  While a description of Earl may sound like one of Santa Claus, he looked like a cowboy – clad in riding breeches, leather leggings and a ten gallon hat, his seal skin vest open to show his gold watch chain, gold nugget, and along with various ivory-handled jack knives dangling from his belt.

His cowboy appearance was real.  Prior to venturing to Alaska, Earl graduated from St. Boniface University in Canada where he’d planned on being a Royal Mounted Policeman.  He was disqualified as being too short, but spent five years breaking horses for the men who rode.  Earl then packed up, headed west, and settled into ranching in Eastern Oregon.  He roped and wrangled for many years, and served as deputy sheriff along the way.  But then people began building fences, and cowboys don’t like fences.  It’s then that Earl set out for new territory in Alaska and what became his home.

In 1943 a fire destroyed his cannery at Citizen’s Dock.  Earl rebuilt, determined to provide jobs for the many workers who relied on him.  By all counts he should have been a rich man.  But, he added things up differently than most, and people came before profits.  Earl believed it was more important to extend a loan or provide a job (even if he had more workers than were needed to get the job done) than it was to see his profits soar.  He knew the dignity that work affords.

Earl came from a long line of entrepreneurial, hardworking businessmen. When Earl first departed Dayton, Ohio, he left behind a family tradition in manufacturing and invention (Ohmer cash registers, taxi meters, trolley car fare boxes, and lawn mowing machines). He also left a family history of horticulture from wheat farming in Argyle, Minnesota, to the developing and propagation of the Nick Ohmer strawberry.  His family home at 1350 Creighton Avenue is on the National List of Historic Houses.

He loved the Territory of Alaska and knew he was home.  He’d often sit on the porch in the evening, smoking his pipe and commenting, “It’s 60 degrees, best temperature in the world, by golly. We’re living in God’s country.”

Earl Ohmer married Loyla Von Oston in 1918.  They raised three sons and a daughter:  Bob, Dave, Jim, and Patti.

When Earl passed on in 1955, his son Dave assumed the leadership and presidency of Alaska Glacier Sea Foods. Dave left his father’s office untouched, even to the last ashes in Earl’s pipe.  In 1983 this office, a landmark on Main Street, was repositioned at the Clausen Memorial Museum.  This decision came with an unknown blessing, for in 1985 the cannery burned to the ground again, taking with it all historical memorabilia and family treasure.  Earl’s collection ranged from Native totems and carved fishing hooks to machine wax recordings, from pocket watches to pipes, from a gun collection to baleen carvings, from furs and flying fish wings to glass balls.  His office wall was a community bulletin board completely covered with pictures of friends and visitors, cartoons, and certificates.

Earl’s artifacts and the spirit he created around him can be experienced at the museum, or you can glimpse it in a talk with family members who carry on some of his traditions.

David Paul Ohmer

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David Paul Ohmer

July 3, 1919 – December 8, 1979

By Judy and Susan Ohmer, daughters

Dave was one of the first generation of children born in Petersburg.  He was reared there as the town was developing into a noted seafood producing areas in Southeastern Alaska.  He had the typical freedoms of boys of the wilderness, almost expected to be packing a fishing pole, a basketball, or a .22-rifle.

Childhood summers included time at Greenrocks, rowing skiffs, picking berries, jigging fish, and chopping wood.  As a teen he would entertain tourists by diving from Citizen’s Dock and swimming across Wrangell Narrows.  Winters meant ice-skating and sledding parties.  And basketball was king.  In 1938 the Petersburg Vikings won the Southeast Alaska basketball championship. Dave, and fellow high school seniors Ernest Enge and Elder Lee, gloried in that distinction for the rest of their lives.

Dave quested after gold, sunken treasure, truth, and the meaning of life.  He believed a people should “Always leave a place better than they found it,” and that “A man’s only as good as his word.”  He was a seeker and a giver. He understood the struggle of the underdog, and he lived by a code that sometimes only he understood.

Dave was color blind, except for red.  While he accommodated to that by forever buying red pickup trucks, Dave wanted to fly; and his colorblindness restricted him. One of his greatest life disappointments was that he couldn’t serve his country in the U.S. Air Force because of his eyes. Given that, he never thought he’d done enough in WWII, although he served in the merchant marines in some of the most dangerous missions during the war.

In 1945 his father called him home to work beside him.  Dave always regretted not being able to complete college, but would not have considered refusing his father.  Dave and Earl worked along side each other for 10 years, and then in 1955 with his father’s death, Dave became President and CEO of Alaskan Glacier Sea Food.  During the 24 years of his leadership, he consolidated ownership and control of the company, still listed as “Earl Ohmer and Sons,” purchasing 100% of the outstanding shares.  This period was marked by a growing interest and fierce competition for Alaska’s seafood by large outside companies.

Dave addressed the challenges of the seafood industry by pioneering other non-developed fisheries he believed offered opportunity.  He was a major impetus behind the harvesting of naturally produced herring roe on kelp.  He explored the possibility of sea cucumbers production. He was one of the first producers of Bairdi crab, making a commercially viable product from something that was considered a pest and routinely destroyed.  Dave led Alaskan Glacier Seafoods through its most difficult period.

Dave’s office was the pocket of his Pendleton shirt, where he recorded loans and advances on one of many envelopes stuffed there.  He did have a desk at the cannery on Main Street, and continued his father’s tradition of collecting memorabilia.  Much of Dave’s treasure came from sunken ships and far-flung friends.  A bulletin board covered his entire wall, displaying pictures and cartoons.

His standard dress was wool plaid shirts and white cords, later replaced with khaki pants when he couldn’t get the cords.  Dressing up meant adding a string tie with an 1882 silver dollar cinch. Children liked to encourage him to do cartwheels, because coins fell out of his pockets – Petersburg’s version of a piñata.

Dave is remembered for his lyrical radio calls with the cannery boats, every morning at 10:00 and every afternoon at 4:00.  “KWY 73 Petersburg” checked in like clockwork with “WD 8415 the Charles W” and the rest of the fleet.

And in his whiskey baritone voice he answered the phone “Dave talkin.’”   Women were always “Darlin’ if they were younger than he was and “Mom” if they were older.

Dave had a sentimental side that preserved tradition and honored those who’d gone before him.  He regularly visited with the town’s old-timers, having coffee and sharing stories.  And he brought them home to dinner where Atomic Ole, Corbit Ship, Gainheart Samualson, Ralph Young and others became part of the family.  Dave made sure the pioneers were properly buried and had a headstone commemorating their life.

He stood on principle.  After many decades of service with the Petersburg Volunteer Fire Department, he quit when a decision was made to let a house burn because it was out of the city limits and didn’t pay taxes to support the department.  Dave believed in helping neighbors throughout the community.

The hardest thing he ever had to do was to carry the news to the Japanese families who worked along side his at the cannery that they would have to be part of internment during WWII.  He held their jobs, fought for their return, and helped them resettle their lives.

Dave served for many years on the Hospital board, the Salvation Army board, and was a member of the Elks and the Moose Clubs.  He was grateful to be the Grand Marshall in one of the Fourth of July parades.  He was honored to be adopted into the Raven clan of the Tlingets; his Native name meant “The End.”

He married Gloria Lucille Anderson on May 6, 1951, in Juneau, with a 35-cent dime store rink with a pink stone and glass diamonds…when the real ring from Fredrick and Nelson in Seattle didn’t show up.  Maxine and Quentin DeBoer were supposed to stand up for them except Quentin couldn’t get there because of foul weather, so a man off the street stood in.  The wedding took place at 1:00a to accommodate the three day waiting period and so Dave could be back in Petersburg later that morning to buy halibut.  The line “and with this precious token” still brings a burst of laughter.

The Ohmer’s dining room table welcomed everyone – from the Catholic priests who passed through the mission town, to Coastal and Ellis pilots laid over due to weather, from children whose parents were ill, to salesmen who stopped by, from fishermen who were down on their luck, to guests who were touring the Great State of Alaska.  There was always room for one more.  And when the food supply was low there was always an “Ohmer Special:” an open-faced fried egg sandwich with mayonnaise, lettuce, and tomato.

He celebrated 60 birthdays, usually with chocolate cake and chocolate frosting.  But he enjoyed it most after it had been in the freezer for months, at which time he’d pour canned milk over the top.

Dave and Gloria reared five children: Judy, David, Becky, Penny/Katelyn, and Susan.

John Francis Ohmer, Jr.

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johnfrancisohmerjrOHMER, John Francis, Jr., engineer, was born in Dayton, Ohio, July 3, 1891, son of John Francis and Anna Katherine (Beckman) Ohmer and grandson of Michael and Rose Marie (Welty”) Ohmer. His grandfather, a native of Alsace, France, came to this country in 1831 and settled in Dayton the following year. His father (q.v.) was a manufacturer and inventor. John F. Ohmer received his education at St. Marys Institute, Dayton, the University of Dayton, and Cornell University, where he was graduated M.E. in 1913. Joining the Ohmer Fare Register Co., Dayton, which had been founded by his father in 1902, Ohmer was an apprentice until 1914, a member of the salt’s department for two years, an engineer during 1919-21, and a member of the production export department from then until 1927.
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