“Mr. Glenn”

Mr. Glenn B. Troutman was born on the 22^nd day of August in 1900. He was the son of Elliott J. and Isabella S. Troutman. He grew up and spent his life on family land just off of the East Monbo Road. As the crow flies that would be approximately one mile east of the schoolhouse and cemetery where our annual reunion is held. Mr. Glenn and his wife Josie Lee, as she was known, were the same age as my Grandparents, Tate and Rubie Ostwalt. While growing up, Grandaddy and Mr. Glenn lived within about a quarter of a mile of each other and later lived about a mile apart. They were lifelong friends.

This is an example of that friendship. My Mother, Maxine Ostwalt Warren, was about 15 years old and had a job in Statesville, about seven miles away. This was during World War II. A sudden and very heavy snow began falling while she was at work. There was no Weather Channel, no local television with weather alerts and radar showing what kind of storm was coming because there was no television then. Grandaddy was going to pick her up and bring her home in his Model A Ford. Model A’s did not have a heater, defroster or even a radio. The windshield wiper on a Model A is so small and weak that pushing snow was quite a job if it could be done at all. No such thing as a 4WD SUV equipped with a heater, defroster, rear window defroster, 20 inch wiper blades and heated seats. A seven mile drive in those days and in that kind of weather was no joy ride.

My Grandfather needed some help. He got it from his friend Mr. Glenn Troutman. Mr. Glenn rode along holding a candle up to the windshield so my Grandfather could see to drive. Fortunately they all arrived safely back home.

I came to know Mr. Glenn when I was a boy growing up in our community. Occasionally he and Grandaddy would help each other on their farms. Mr. Glenn was such a nice man and made you feel comfortable, so comfortable in fact that one day as he, Grandaddy and I were out in the field loading fertilizer and seed into a grain drill I simply called him Glenn. Not Mr. Troutman but just plain Glenn. I was maybe 10 to 12 years old and Grandaddy and Glenn were around 70 years old. After Glenn left Grandaddy gently reminded me that Glenn was my elder and out of respect I should always address him as either Mr. Troutman or at least as “Mr. Glenn”. Grandaddy knew that I had not meant to show disrespect, however, he wanted to teach me so that I didn’t fail to show respect in the future.  Mr. Glenn was certainly a man deserving of such respect.

We all see people in different lights depending on our relationship or experiences with that person. Mr. Glenn was a highly respected member of the community. He earned that respect in his own quiet helpful way and as a man of integrity. I am fortunate to have had a Grandfather to teach me a valuable lesson about respect and fortunate to have known “Mr. Glenn”

Written by: Brent Warren - Troutman Family Historical Association – 2006 Reunion