Act of redemption

Think of it as an act of redemption.
A group of about 15 to 20 people gathered at Green Park Cemetery in Portland on Saturday afternoon to dedicate a headstone for George Codling.
Chances are, unless you grew up in Jay County during a certain era, you’re wondering, George who?
George Codling was, by any standard, a character.
For decades, he ran a popcorn stand at the corner of Main and Meridian streets. How it came to exist on a city street in the county seat, with power lines strung from light poles and no discernable plumbing, is anyone’s guess.
When he wasn’t running the popcorn stand and in the years after it was closed by the health department, George could be seen trundling around town on an old bicycle.
He never really pedaled, just pushed with one foot and then the other.
Some kids found him frightening. Others — particularly teenagers — saw him as the target for ridicule, harassment and cruelty. On at least one occasion, kids stole his bicycle and tossed it into the Salamonie River.
Sometime in 1968 or 1969, his bicycle was hit by a car while he was scooting around town. He died in 1969 after a stint in the hospital, a nursing home and — finally — the Jay County Retirement Center, known in those days more colloquially as “the county home.”
He was buried at Green Park in a pauper’s grave, with only a metal marker with a paper label acknowledging the spot.
And that might have been the end of it. Just another of humanity’s damaged individuals, ill-treated or ignored by most of the community, and then forgotten for the ages.
Except for Dave Frasher.
Dave’s an amateur historian active with the Jay County Historical Society. Retired from Portland Forge, he remembered George Codling from his childhood and turned the local historical spotlight on his quirky life.
The result was an exhibit in the Classics Tent at the Jay County Fair in 2011. That was followed by a presentation to the historical society by Frasher on Codling’s life as one of the county’s more colorful characters.
And then a funny thing happened.
As people started reminiscing about George, sharing stories, and remembering his often pitiable condition, they wanted to do something to make things right.
Maybe they recalled their own indifference. Maybe they felt a sense of shame that they responded with fear. Maybe they felt a touch of guilt for cruel words or actions aimed in George Codling’s direction.
Maybe they thought of all the others who slip through society’s cracks: The kids with “cooties,” the classmates who wore the same clothes to school every day, the guy down the street who was the target of taunts.
Whatever the motivation, donations started coming in to purchase a headstone for the man.
And so, working through the historical society, Dave Frasher made it happen. He tracked down the burial plot. A proper stone was purchased. And on Saturday afternoon it was dedicated.
George’s bicycle was there. Portland city councilman Bill Gibson acquired it years ago, rescuing a local relic. Two of George’s nieces were there, along with a handful of other distant relatives.
But in a way, the whole community was there as well, performing an act of both remembrance and redemption.[[In-content Ad]]