from the 1976 Hendricks County History (page 273):
Solomon T. Ellis, son of Thomas and Nancy Jane (Griffith) Ellis, was born in Kentucky on May 15, 1866 and came to Hendricks County, Indiana as a young man. On November 30, 1899, he married Martha Hall. They had four children: Elfia (Leach), Floris (Cole), Lyman Hall Ellis and Charlotte (Kincaid).
Solomon Ellis operated a general merchandise store in the Ellis brick building on Railroad Street in Lizton for about 50 years. He was a charter member of the Lizton Knights of Pythias Lodge. His hobby was collecting and repairing old clocks.
from the Republican for April 20, 1950:
Sol Ellis, business man in Lizton, died at his home there yesterday morning. A native of Glen Cove, Ky., he was the son of Thomas Ellis and Elizabeth Jane (Griffith) Ellis. He married Martha Hall 50 years ago November 1949. He was a member of the Missionary Baptist Church; the Pittsboro Masonic Lodge and the Lizton K. of P. Lodge. Surviving are four children, Elfia Leach, Lizton; Floris E. Cole, Savannah, Ga.; Dr. L. H. Ellis and Mrs. Charlotte Kincaid, both of Lizton. Services will be held Friday afternoon at 2 o'clock at the Lizton Christian Church in charge of the Rev. Mr. Barger. Burial will be at Lizton.
from the Indianapolis Star for Sept. 4, 1938:
Forty-eight years behind the same counter, in the same little old store, the same little old town selling cheese and bread and bacon to almost the same folk, well, you just about learn the appetites of fellow townsmen anyway, according to Sol Ellis who has sold out and retired on account of ill health after nearly half a century in a general store at Lizton.
You learn a lot of other things, too, in one location that many years - the honest, the dead beats, the ineffectual strugglers, the budgeteers, the stingy, those with Midaslike touch as well as learning how to bear and forebear. "Hundreds of dollars are due us which can never be collected, but we're just going to forget it and remember only the good," remarked Mrs. Ellis whose pleasant countenance attests she has done just that all her life.
Mr. Ellis has played safe in a way about that old store of his. He's sold out to his son-in-law so when he hankers to get behind that old counter with a patina acquired from years of rubbing with his own shirt sleeves, he will be allowed to do just that.
It is not likely he will suffer such nostalgia for some time for he has many hobbies and many other interesting things to do. There's his collection of old clocks - he has 20 of them in the house right now. And never has he had all the time he wanted for tinkering with them, looking into their history, how many wheels they have, etc. The tall grandfather clock that still stands in the store is the oldest of all. Treasured it must have been to some seafaring family who brought it from England. Made in 1753 it bears all the marks of fine workmanship of the furniture of that time. Near it on a wall a tiny clock ticks away the hours in what seems to be a jollier and speedier fashion. Nearby also is a big talkative old clock that insists upon telling you not only the hours, minutes and seconds but the days, months, the year and what have you.
The banjo clock which Mr. Ellis sold not long ago was one of the most valuable he ever owned. There are clocks that are family heirlooms, a number of old Seth Thomas clocks procured in the community. An old customer laughingly said that often when in the store one clock would begin striking the hour another would join in, never two being synchronized and the sale would have to be postponed until the hour was told by all the clocks.
Mr. Ellis is something of a G-man, too. Leastways he gets his man. He had six in the penitentiary at one time, he says. Some had forged checks, but most of them had been caught for breaking into the Ellis store. Mrs. Ellis recalls the time Mr. Ellis shot someone going through the store window which proved to be a woman, shot in the hip. Then she tells of the time they caught two men in the store, held them there till the sheriff arrived. As the sheriff was adjusting bracelets, Mr. Ellis went to the woodshed for coal and brought in another man. And was he scared, the burglar we mean. Acted as if he were glad to be caught and not shot, Mrs. Ellis declares.
Born in 1860 in Kentucky, Mr. Ellis landed in Montclair, just south of Lizton, when a young man, went to work in a tile factory and later with his two brothers bought the store in Lizton. For 48 years he has been the sole owner and proprietor, unless you include his wife who has always assisted him. During the Cleveland administration, he was the Lizton postmaster, the office being located in his store.
It was about merchandising then and now that Mr. Ellis is most entertaining. Certainly he thinks many of the old-time ways of buying and selling were the best. Don't we all, even though life did begin at 40. Still he would hardly like going back to those old days when he had to handle country butter by the tubful, good, bad and indifferent, all went for the same price. Sidemeat was the big item two decades ago, 2,000 pounds at one time, "I've had in the store," he will tell you. "Now I don't suppose I could sell a slice for the dog, let alone for family use. We still buy and sell lots of country lard as we always have."
Take shoes. Still on the shelves are some of those "tooth-pick" styles the girls of yesteryear wore. Heavy, high-top boots were the footwear for men when I begun business, said Mr. Ellis. Had to have that kind for clearing out timber and wading the swamps and the snow. Little copper-toed ones the youngsters had and the red-top boots were the drawing card.
Still got some stiff hats, believe it or not (page Charlie Chaplin, please). Some of the older folk in Lizton declare there is china still on the shelves that has been there since they wore three-cornered pants.
It wasn't so good keeping those old coal oil lamps filled and shining. I thought I had reached the acme of storekeeping when I got one of those new-fangled gasoline lights. Four burners it had, had to be raised and lowered and pumped up. It made a noise like a threshing machine when it was going!
Such a fund of information, philosophy and wisdom has Mr. Ellis collected in his years as storekeeper. He's reticent but observant and it would take a long time to extract much of his learning one feels. Nothing about high-powered salesmanship, overcoming sales resistance, quick turnovers and things modern merchants discuss. How far more interesting the things he could tell of folk, folklore, human nature and just living.
Quick turnovers, bargain sales and such have never meant much to Mr. Ellis. He has meant much more than the man who owned the store on the corner. To Lizton townfolk Mr. Ellis has been a friend, counsellor, sage, a help in time of trouble. So with but three contemporaries who have grown old along with him in business in Lizton - George Thompson, Charles Adams and W. W. Dowden, he will continue in those capacities and leave the running of the store to his son-in-law, Fred Kincaid.
Solomon T. Ellis, son of Thomas and Nancy Jane (Griffith) Ellis, was born in Kentucky on May 15, 1866 and came to Hendricks County, Indiana as a young man. On November 30, 1899, he married Martha Hall. They had four children: Elfia (Leach), Floris (Cole), Lyman Hall Ellis and Charlotte (Kincaid).
Solomon Ellis operated a general merchandise store in the Ellis brick building on Railroad Street in Lizton for about 50 years. He was a charter member of the Lizton Knights of Pythias Lodge. His hobby was collecting and repairing old clocks.
from the Republican for April 20, 1950:
Sol Ellis, business man in Lizton, died at his home there yesterday morning. A native of Glen Cove, Ky., he was the son of Thomas Ellis and Elizabeth Jane (Griffith) Ellis. He married Martha Hall 50 years ago November 1949. He was a member of the Missionary Baptist Church; the Pittsboro Masonic Lodge and the Lizton K. of P. Lodge. Surviving are four children, Elfia Leach, Lizton; Floris E. Cole, Savannah, Ga.; Dr. L. H. Ellis and Mrs. Charlotte Kincaid, both of Lizton. Services will be held Friday afternoon at 2 o'clock at the Lizton Christian Church in charge of the Rev. Mr. Barger. Burial will be at Lizton.
from the Indianapolis Star for Sept. 4, 1938:
Forty-eight years behind the same counter, in the same little old store, the same little old town selling cheese and bread and bacon to almost the same folk, well, you just about learn the appetites of fellow townsmen anyway, according to Sol Ellis who has sold out and retired on account of ill health after nearly half a century in a general store at Lizton.
You learn a lot of other things, too, in one location that many years - the honest, the dead beats, the ineffectual strugglers, the budgeteers, the stingy, those with Midaslike touch as well as learning how to bear and forebear. "Hundreds of dollars are due us which can never be collected, but we're just going to forget it and remember only the good," remarked Mrs. Ellis whose pleasant countenance attests she has done just that all her life.
Mr. Ellis has played safe in a way about that old store of his. He's sold out to his son-in-law so when he hankers to get behind that old counter with a patina acquired from years of rubbing with his own shirt sleeves, he will be allowed to do just that.
It is not likely he will suffer such nostalgia for some time for he has many hobbies and many other interesting things to do. There's his collection of old clocks - he has 20 of them in the house right now. And never has he had all the time he wanted for tinkering with them, looking into their history, how many wheels they have, etc. The tall grandfather clock that still stands in the store is the oldest of all. Treasured it must have been to some seafaring family who brought it from England. Made in 1753 it bears all the marks of fine workmanship of the furniture of that time. Near it on a wall a tiny clock ticks away the hours in what seems to be a jollier and speedier fashion. Nearby also is a big talkative old clock that insists upon telling you not only the hours, minutes and seconds but the days, months, the year and what have you.
The banjo clock which Mr. Ellis sold not long ago was one of the most valuable he ever owned. There are clocks that are family heirlooms, a number of old Seth Thomas clocks procured in the community. An old customer laughingly said that often when in the store one clock would begin striking the hour another would join in, never two being synchronized and the sale would have to be postponed until the hour was told by all the clocks.
Mr. Ellis is something of a G-man, too. Leastways he gets his man. He had six in the penitentiary at one time, he says. Some had forged checks, but most of them had been caught for breaking into the Ellis store. Mrs. Ellis recalls the time Mr. Ellis shot someone going through the store window which proved to be a woman, shot in the hip. Then she tells of the time they caught two men in the store, held them there till the sheriff arrived. As the sheriff was adjusting bracelets, Mr. Ellis went to the woodshed for coal and brought in another man. And was he scared, the burglar we mean. Acted as if he were glad to be caught and not shot, Mrs. Ellis declares.
Born in 1860 in Kentucky, Mr. Ellis landed in Montclair, just south of Lizton, when a young man, went to work in a tile factory and later with his two brothers bought the store in Lizton. For 48 years he has been the sole owner and proprietor, unless you include his wife who has always assisted him. During the Cleveland administration, he was the Lizton postmaster, the office being located in his store.
It was about merchandising then and now that Mr. Ellis is most entertaining. Certainly he thinks many of the old-time ways of buying and selling were the best. Don't we all, even though life did begin at 40. Still he would hardly like going back to those old days when he had to handle country butter by the tubful, good, bad and indifferent, all went for the same price. Sidemeat was the big item two decades ago, 2,000 pounds at one time, "I've had in the store," he will tell you. "Now I don't suppose I could sell a slice for the dog, let alone for family use. We still buy and sell lots of country lard as we always have."
Take shoes. Still on the shelves are some of those "tooth-pick" styles the girls of yesteryear wore. Heavy, high-top boots were the footwear for men when I begun business, said Mr. Ellis. Had to have that kind for clearing out timber and wading the swamps and the snow. Little copper-toed ones the youngsters had and the red-top boots were the drawing card.
Still got some stiff hats, believe it or not (page Charlie Chaplin, please). Some of the older folk in Lizton declare there is china still on the shelves that has been there since they wore three-cornered pants.
It wasn't so good keeping those old coal oil lamps filled and shining. I thought I had reached the acme of storekeeping when I got one of those new-fangled gasoline lights. Four burners it had, had to be raised and lowered and pumped up. It made a noise like a threshing machine when it was going!
Such a fund of information, philosophy and wisdom has Mr. Ellis collected in his years as storekeeper. He's reticent but observant and it would take a long time to extract much of his learning one feels. Nothing about high-powered salesmanship, overcoming sales resistance, quick turnovers and things modern merchants discuss. How far more interesting the things he could tell of folk, folklore, human nature and just living.
Quick turnovers, bargain sales and such have never meant much to Mr. Ellis. He has meant much more than the man who owned the store on the corner. To Lizton townfolk Mr. Ellis has been a friend, counsellor, sage, a help in time of trouble. So with but three contemporaries who have grown old along with him in business in Lizton - George Thompson, Charles Adams and W. W. Dowden, he will continue in those capacities and leave the running of the store to his son-in-law, Fred Kincaid.
from the 1976 Hendricks County History (page 273):
Solomon T. Ellis, son of Thomas and Nancy Jane (Griffith) Ellis, was born in Kentucky on May 15, 1866 and came to Hendricks County, Indiana as a young man. On November 30, 1899, he married Martha Hall. They had four children: Elfia (Leach), Floris (Cole), Lyman Hall Ellis and Charlotte (Kincaid).
Solomon Ellis operated a general merchandise store in the Ellis brick building on Railroad Street in Lizton for about 50 years. He was a charter member of the Lizton Knights of Pythias Lodge. His hobby was collecting and repairing old clocks.
from the Republican for April 20, 1950:
Sol Ellis, business man in Lizton, died at his home there yesterday morning. A native of Glen Cove, Ky., he was the son of Thomas Ellis and Elizabeth Jane (Griffith) Ellis. He married Martha Hall 50 years ago November 1949. He was a member of the Missionary Baptist Church; the Pittsboro Masonic Lodge and the Lizton K. of P. Lodge. Surviving are four children, Elfia Leach, Lizton; Floris E. Cole, Savannah, Ga.; Dr. L. H. Ellis and Mrs. Charlotte Kincaid, both of Lizton. Services will be held Friday afternoon at 2 o'clock at the Lizton Christian Church in charge of the Rev. Mr. Barger. Burial will be at Lizton.
from the Indianapolis Star for Sept. 4, 1938:
Forty-eight years behind the same counter, in the same little old store, the same little old town selling cheese and bread and bacon to almost the same folk, well, you just about learn the appetites of fellow townsmen anyway, according to Sol Ellis who has sold out and retired on account of ill health after nearly half a century in a general store at Lizton.
You learn a lot of other things, too, in one location that many years - the honest, the dead beats, the ineffectual strugglers, the budgeteers, the stingy, those with Midaslike touch as well as learning how to bear and forebear. "Hundreds of dollars are due us which can never be collected, but we're just going to forget it and remember only the good," remarked Mrs. Ellis whose pleasant countenance attests she has done just that all her life.
Mr. Ellis has played safe in a way about that old store of his. He's sold out to his son-in-law so when he hankers to get behind that old counter with a patina acquired from years of rubbing with his own shirt sleeves, he will be allowed to do just that.
It is not likely he will suffer such nostalgia for some time for he has many hobbies and many other interesting things to do. There's his collection of old clocks - he has 20 of them in the house right now. And never has he had all the time he wanted for tinkering with them, looking into their history, how many wheels they have, etc. The tall grandfather clock that still stands in the store is the oldest of all. Treasured it must have been to some seafaring family who brought it from England. Made in 1753 it bears all the marks of fine workmanship of the furniture of that time. Near it on a wall a tiny clock ticks away the hours in what seems to be a jollier and speedier fashion. Nearby also is a big talkative old clock that insists upon telling you not only the hours, minutes and seconds but the days, months, the year and what have you.
The banjo clock which Mr. Ellis sold not long ago was one of the most valuable he ever owned. There are clocks that are family heirlooms, a number of old Seth Thomas clocks procured in the community. An old customer laughingly said that often when in the store one clock would begin striking the hour another would join in, never two being synchronized and the sale would have to be postponed until the hour was told by all the clocks.
Mr. Ellis is something of a G-man, too. Leastways he gets his man. He had six in the penitentiary at one time, he says. Some had forged checks, but most of them had been caught for breaking into the Ellis store. Mrs. Ellis recalls the time Mr. Ellis shot someone going through the store window which proved to be a woman, shot in the hip. Then she tells of the time they caught two men in the store, held them there till the sheriff arrived. As the sheriff was adjusting bracelets, Mr. Ellis went to the woodshed for coal and brought in another man. And was he scared, the burglar we mean. Acted as if he were glad to be caught and not shot, Mrs. Ellis declares.
Born in 1860 in Kentucky, Mr. Ellis landed in Montclair, just south of Lizton, when a young man, went to work in a tile factory and later with his two brothers bought the store in Lizton. For 48 years he has been the sole owner and proprietor, unless you include his wife who has always assisted him. During the Cleveland administration, he was the Lizton postmaster, the office being located in his store.
It was about merchandising then and now that Mr. Ellis is most entertaining. Certainly he thinks many of the old-time ways of buying and selling were the best. Don't we all, even though life did begin at 40. Still he would hardly like going back to those old days when he had to handle country butter by the tubful, good, bad and indifferent, all went for the same price. Sidemeat was the big item two decades ago, 2,000 pounds at one time, "I've had in the store," he will tell you. "Now I don't suppose I could sell a slice for the dog, let alone for family use. We still buy and sell lots of country lard as we always have."
Take shoes. Still on the shelves are some of those "tooth-pick" styles the girls of yesteryear wore. Heavy, high-top boots were the footwear for men when I begun business, said Mr. Ellis. Had to have that kind for clearing out timber and wading the swamps and the snow. Little copper-toed ones the youngsters had and the red-top boots were the drawing card.
Still got some stiff hats, believe it or not (page Charlie Chaplin, please). Some of the older folk in Lizton declare there is china still on the shelves that has been there since they wore three-cornered pants.
It wasn't so good keeping those old coal oil lamps filled and shining. I thought I had reached the acme of storekeeping when I got one of those new-fangled gasoline lights. Four burners it had, had to be raised and lowered and pumped up. It made a noise like a threshing machine when it was going!
Such a fund of information, philosophy and wisdom has Mr. Ellis collected in his years as storekeeper. He's reticent but observant and it would take a long time to extract much of his learning one feels. Nothing about high-powered salesmanship, overcoming sales resistance, quick turnovers and things modern merchants discuss. How far more interesting the things he could tell of folk, folklore, human nature and just living.
Quick turnovers, bargain sales and such have never meant much to Mr. Ellis. He has meant much more than the man who owned the store on the corner. To Lizton townfolk Mr. Ellis has been a friend, counsellor, sage, a help in time of trouble. So with but three contemporaries who have grown old along with him in business in Lizton - George Thompson, Charles Adams and W. W. Dowden, he will continue in those capacities and leave the running of the store to his son-in-law, Fred Kincaid.
Solomon T. Ellis, son of Thomas and Nancy Jane (Griffith) Ellis, was born in Kentucky on May 15, 1866 and came to Hendricks County, Indiana as a young man. On November 30, 1899, he married Martha Hall. They had four children: Elfia (Leach), Floris (Cole), Lyman Hall Ellis and Charlotte (Kincaid).
Solomon Ellis operated a general merchandise store in the Ellis brick building on Railroad Street in Lizton for about 50 years. He was a charter member of the Lizton Knights of Pythias Lodge. His hobby was collecting and repairing old clocks.
from the Republican for April 20, 1950:
Sol Ellis, business man in Lizton, died at his home there yesterday morning. A native of Glen Cove, Ky., he was the son of Thomas Ellis and Elizabeth Jane (Griffith) Ellis. He married Martha Hall 50 years ago November 1949. He was a member of the Missionary Baptist Church; the Pittsboro Masonic Lodge and the Lizton K. of P. Lodge. Surviving are four children, Elfia Leach, Lizton; Floris E. Cole, Savannah, Ga.; Dr. L. H. Ellis and Mrs. Charlotte Kincaid, both of Lizton. Services will be held Friday afternoon at 2 o'clock at the Lizton Christian Church in charge of the Rev. Mr. Barger. Burial will be at Lizton.
from the Indianapolis Star for Sept. 4, 1938:
Forty-eight years behind the same counter, in the same little old store, the same little old town selling cheese and bread and bacon to almost the same folk, well, you just about learn the appetites of fellow townsmen anyway, according to Sol Ellis who has sold out and retired on account of ill health after nearly half a century in a general store at Lizton.
You learn a lot of other things, too, in one location that many years - the honest, the dead beats, the ineffectual strugglers, the budgeteers, the stingy, those with Midaslike touch as well as learning how to bear and forebear. "Hundreds of dollars are due us which can never be collected, but we're just going to forget it and remember only the good," remarked Mrs. Ellis whose pleasant countenance attests she has done just that all her life.
Mr. Ellis has played safe in a way about that old store of his. He's sold out to his son-in-law so when he hankers to get behind that old counter with a patina acquired from years of rubbing with his own shirt sleeves, he will be allowed to do just that.
It is not likely he will suffer such nostalgia for some time for he has many hobbies and many other interesting things to do. There's his collection of old clocks - he has 20 of them in the house right now. And never has he had all the time he wanted for tinkering with them, looking into their history, how many wheels they have, etc. The tall grandfather clock that still stands in the store is the oldest of all. Treasured it must have been to some seafaring family who brought it from England. Made in 1753 it bears all the marks of fine workmanship of the furniture of that time. Near it on a wall a tiny clock ticks away the hours in what seems to be a jollier and speedier fashion. Nearby also is a big talkative old clock that insists upon telling you not only the hours, minutes and seconds but the days, months, the year and what have you.
The banjo clock which Mr. Ellis sold not long ago was one of the most valuable he ever owned. There are clocks that are family heirlooms, a number of old Seth Thomas clocks procured in the community. An old customer laughingly said that often when in the store one clock would begin striking the hour another would join in, never two being synchronized and the sale would have to be postponed until the hour was told by all the clocks.
Mr. Ellis is something of a G-man, too. Leastways he gets his man. He had six in the penitentiary at one time, he says. Some had forged checks, but most of them had been caught for breaking into the Ellis store. Mrs. Ellis recalls the time Mr. Ellis shot someone going through the store window which proved to be a woman, shot in the hip. Then she tells of the time they caught two men in the store, held them there till the sheriff arrived. As the sheriff was adjusting bracelets, Mr. Ellis went to the woodshed for coal and brought in another man. And was he scared, the burglar we mean. Acted as if he were glad to be caught and not shot, Mrs. Ellis declares.
Born in 1860 in Kentucky, Mr. Ellis landed in Montclair, just south of Lizton, when a young man, went to work in a tile factory and later with his two brothers bought the store in Lizton. For 48 years he has been the sole owner and proprietor, unless you include his wife who has always assisted him. During the Cleveland administration, he was the Lizton postmaster, the office being located in his store.
It was about merchandising then and now that Mr. Ellis is most entertaining. Certainly he thinks many of the old-time ways of buying and selling were the best. Don't we all, even though life did begin at 40. Still he would hardly like going back to those old days when he had to handle country butter by the tubful, good, bad and indifferent, all went for the same price. Sidemeat was the big item two decades ago, 2,000 pounds at one time, "I've had in the store," he will tell you. "Now I don't suppose I could sell a slice for the dog, let alone for family use. We still buy and sell lots of country lard as we always have."
Take shoes. Still on the shelves are some of those "tooth-pick" styles the girls of yesteryear wore. Heavy, high-top boots were the footwear for men when I begun business, said Mr. Ellis. Had to have that kind for clearing out timber and wading the swamps and the snow. Little copper-toed ones the youngsters had and the red-top boots were the drawing card.
Still got some stiff hats, believe it or not (page Charlie Chaplin, please). Some of the older folk in Lizton declare there is china still on the shelves that has been there since they wore three-cornered pants.
It wasn't so good keeping those old coal oil lamps filled and shining. I thought I had reached the acme of storekeeping when I got one of those new-fangled gasoline lights. Four burners it had, had to be raised and lowered and pumped up. It made a noise like a threshing machine when it was going!
Such a fund of information, philosophy and wisdom has Mr. Ellis collected in his years as storekeeper. He's reticent but observant and it would take a long time to extract much of his learning one feels. Nothing about high-powered salesmanship, overcoming sales resistance, quick turnovers and things modern merchants discuss. How far more interesting the things he could tell of folk, folklore, human nature and just living.
Quick turnovers, bargain sales and such have never meant much to Mr. Ellis. He has meant much more than the man who owned the store on the corner. To Lizton townfolk Mr. Ellis has been a friend, counsellor, sage, a help in time of trouble. So with but three contemporaries who have grown old along with him in business in Lizton - George Thompson, Charles Adams and W. W. Dowden, he will continue in those capacities and leave the running of the store to his son-in-law, Fred Kincaid.
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