This is the final installment of The Cardalians, Ralph Horner’s third series of essays that recalls his days in the 1950s as a young man near Cleveland’s Glenville and Collinwood neighborhoods, and the large population of people who came to Cleveland from Cardale, Pennsylvania.

 Otto, the bar owner of the Cardalians’ home away from home, met a sad and unusual end. One Sunday, when the bar was closed, Otto suffered a heart attack at home and collapsed on his bedroom floor.

His wife Lil, in a state of panic trying to get to the phone, fell down the stairs and severely broke her leg. Lil was unable to move and lay at the bottom of the steps for about 12 hours. A neighbor finally heard her cries for help.  When help finally came it was too late. Otto had passed away.

The Cardalian men were not much for fawning over their women. The Cardalian male's idea of seduction was to say "Hey" to his woman and then point to the bedroom.

I guess the women felt unfulfilled by their loutish men because many of them had a wandering eye. One night, I was in Otto’s Bar having a beer.  I looked up and Harry MacCall's wife, Gertie, was looking at me with romance in her eyes.

I finished my beer, walked out, and never returned to Otto’s again. Sure, I was afraid of Harry MacCall, but I was more afraid of the legend that Cardalian women—like Black Widow spiders, they killed and devoured their partners after lovemaking.

 I don’t remember how or why I started going Otto's Bar, but I do remember that the Cardalians really liked me for some reason.

Sometimes I would sit down at the bar and plop a dollar down for a beer and walk out much, much later—after a few beers and that same single dollar on the bar. They liked buying me drinks and no one seemed to care that I was about two years short of the legal drinking age. I think they thought I was kind of a novelty.

The Cardalians seemed impressed by my wisdom and worldliness. Wisdom and worldliness?  I was 19 years old and had never been further away from home than 35 miles inside the western border of Pennsylvania! 

Oh well, I guess there are degrees of everything—including wisdom and worldliness. As I’ve said, there was nothing about the Cardalians that left a mark on my character or the way I perceive the world. But that’s not really true. 

The thing that makes the Cardalians stand out in my memory is their unabashed unaffectedness. They had no pretensions about who they were, and they had a ball being it. They had unbelievable joie de vie and to this day I wish I could be more like them.

There is a saving that I like to use: It is “Not braggin', just sayin’.” I like it because it is right to the point without calling attention to the person saying it. Nobody likes a braggart. 

 On a personal note, I believe that a person should use a little respect and a little humility when talking to another person or writing stories like the ones I write for FreshWater Cleveland.

With that in mind, I would like to tell you a little about my background.  I am a Veteran and I participated in that fracas in Vietnam. I came home in one piece.  “Not braggin', just sayin’.”

There is old axiom that I am very fond of that relates to that Vietnam adventure: “For those who fought for it, life has a flavor that the protected will never know.” Not braggin’, just sayin’. 

I attended Cleveland State University, courtesy of the GI Bill. I started my work life as a shoe store manager in downtown Cleveland. Through hard work and vigilance (luck), I eventually ended up on a higher level of employment with two very good companies, Revco Drug at the corporate level and Office Max at the corporate level.

I am retired now and spend my idle hours writing these stories for Freshwater Cleveland which I enjoy very much. The reader might wonder why I am relating all this information. Well, It all kind of relates to my present life and where I came from.

 My family is originally from Pennsylvania. When my father married my mother. times were hard in Pennsylvania. My father pumped gas at a gas station 12 hours a day, seven days a week, for a salary of $12 a week.

Like the Cardalians, we moved to Cleveland in search of a better life. That worked out and we are obviously still here and doing fine.

Where did we live in Pennsylvania? Well, It was a small town called… Cardale. Yep, I too am a Cardalian, “Not braggin’, just sayin’.”