Married Emma Dot Connell on September 14, 1904 in Orange County, Indiana, whom he is buried with.
Married Irene Wilson (surname from a prior marriage) on October 21, 1943 in Bowling Green, Warren County, Kentucky. They were divorced before 1950.
His World War I draft registration card described him as medium height, medium build, blue eyes and light hair, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was night watchman for Mr. Taggart and the railroad. Registrar's Report says "ankles imperfect due to accident."
His World War II draft registration card described him as 5' 9" tall, 185 pounds, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was self-employed.
He was a barber during the early years of his life. Later, he operated a small grocery store across from the post office in French Lick, IN, until shortly after World War II. The 1929 telephone directory lists his store at 205 College Street. When coffee was a nickel a cup, with no free refills, Charley had the reputation of drinking his cup two-thirds to three-quarters of the way down, then asking for his coffee to be "warmed up". Long after his death, there were people in southern Indiana, when they wanted their coffee warmed, would say "Charley Lane my coffee".
The Springs Valley Herald (February 3, 1905) reported " All kinds of people come to French Lick - millionaires and misers, princes and paupers, sports with money to throw at the birds and parsimonious old codgers who are so stingy and close that Pluto with all its penetration can't get through them. But the tightest, flintiest specimen of Shylock that ever struck this valley ambled into Charlie Lane's barber shop the other day for a shave. He sported the somewhat generous name of Pat Scanlan, and hailed from Peoria, Ill. Before taking the chair he inquired the price of a shave, and when told that it was 15 cents he threw up his hands in holy horror and started to leave for another shop; but when told that it was the same price concluded to remain. When Charlie came to the finishing touches and said 'Wet or dry?' Pat said, 'a little oil, please.' Charlie suggested a little tonic which Pat accepted, but when he went to settle and found that the tonic was 10 cents extra he raised a howl and swore he'd been buncoed. Then with tears in his eyes, he declared he was a poor man with barely enough to get home on. Thinking he might be a pauper, Charlie let him off. He is reported to be worth $200,000, and probably is, for he certainly has never squandered his money. He left for home feeling that French Lick was a skin game from first to last."
James Edward Lane reported that when he was a child, he loved to go to Charlie's grocery store at closing time. Charlie loved to go to the Shamrock (a bar and grill) to have a beer after work. To keep James happy while he was enjoying his beer, Charlie would buy him a hamburger. When Chester worked out of town (James thinks it might have been Lake Tahoe, NV) for a few months in the early 1940's, he asked Charles to take care of things. Whiskey was hard to get at this time, so Chester had his supply of good whiskey locked up and left the cheap stuff for Charlie to drink. However, Charlie found the key, and Chester returned to find much of his good whiskey gone and the cheap stuff practically untouched!
Chester Robert Lane reported "He ran a restaurant, a barbershop and a grocery where everyone bought their schoolbooks, new and used. He was a social animal who loved the Kiwanis club and other civic activities. He built a new house on Maple Street in 1917 (he would have been 39), in which he died in his sleep in 1957. He had given the house to Herb and Edie some years before. We remember him in his white 1950 Chevy coupe, with his dog Chips (whom Dad referred to as 'C-note' because they paid a $100 for him), with which he drove along country roads spitting tobacco out the driver window, staining the side of his car. He loved whiskey, food, tobacco, women, and audiences. Before the whole high school assembled, he would recite James Whitcomb Riley at great length. When he was a widower, he took Sue to a Kiwanis meeting when she was a teenager. She dressed up smartly, and he was proud to have her hanging on his arm. He loved to go to Sue's Mom's house and have green beans and fresh tomatoes from the garden. He and I shilled together at the Chateau and the Gorge, acting as if we were real gamblers, fooling no one at all. Then I would leave early, and he'd let me borrow his 38 Chevy to go pick up Sue with. He loved Sue and came to visit us in Sumter, SC in 1955, on the train, and Sue would feed him good food and we'd drive him around the countryside. I never knew a man who enjoyed life any more than Granddad Charlie."
Married Irene Wilson (surname from a prior marriage) on October 21, 1943 in Bowling Green, Warren County, Kentucky. They were divorced before 1950.
His World War I draft registration card described him as medium height, medium build, blue eyes and light hair, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was night watchman for Mr. Taggart and the railroad. Registrar's Report says "ankles imperfect due to accident."
His World War II draft registration card described him as 5' 9" tall, 185 pounds, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was self-employed.
He was a barber during the early years of his life. Later, he operated a small grocery store across from the post office in French Lick, IN, until shortly after World War II. The 1929 telephone directory lists his store at 205 College Street. When coffee was a nickel a cup, with no free refills, Charley had the reputation of drinking his cup two-thirds to three-quarters of the way down, then asking for his coffee to be "warmed up". Long after his death, there were people in southern Indiana, when they wanted their coffee warmed, would say "Charley Lane my coffee".
The Springs Valley Herald (February 3, 1905) reported " All kinds of people come to French Lick - millionaires and misers, princes and paupers, sports with money to throw at the birds and parsimonious old codgers who are so stingy and close that Pluto with all its penetration can't get through them. But the tightest, flintiest specimen of Shylock that ever struck this valley ambled into Charlie Lane's barber shop the other day for a shave. He sported the somewhat generous name of Pat Scanlan, and hailed from Peoria, Ill. Before taking the chair he inquired the price of a shave, and when told that it was 15 cents he threw up his hands in holy horror and started to leave for another shop; but when told that it was the same price concluded to remain. When Charlie came to the finishing touches and said 'Wet or dry?' Pat said, 'a little oil, please.' Charlie suggested a little tonic which Pat accepted, but when he went to settle and found that the tonic was 10 cents extra he raised a howl and swore he'd been buncoed. Then with tears in his eyes, he declared he was a poor man with barely enough to get home on. Thinking he might be a pauper, Charlie let him off. He is reported to be worth $200,000, and probably is, for he certainly has never squandered his money. He left for home feeling that French Lick was a skin game from first to last."
James Edward Lane reported that when he was a child, he loved to go to Charlie's grocery store at closing time. Charlie loved to go to the Shamrock (a bar and grill) to have a beer after work. To keep James happy while he was enjoying his beer, Charlie would buy him a hamburger. When Chester worked out of town (James thinks it might have been Lake Tahoe, NV) for a few months in the early 1940's, he asked Charles to take care of things. Whiskey was hard to get at this time, so Chester had his supply of good whiskey locked up and left the cheap stuff for Charlie to drink. However, Charlie found the key, and Chester returned to find much of his good whiskey gone and the cheap stuff practically untouched!
Chester Robert Lane reported "He ran a restaurant, a barbershop and a grocery where everyone bought their schoolbooks, new and used. He was a social animal who loved the Kiwanis club and other civic activities. He built a new house on Maple Street in 1917 (he would have been 39), in which he died in his sleep in 1957. He had given the house to Herb and Edie some years before. We remember him in his white 1950 Chevy coupe, with his dog Chips (whom Dad referred to as 'C-note' because they paid a $100 for him), with which he drove along country roads spitting tobacco out the driver window, staining the side of his car. He loved whiskey, food, tobacco, women, and audiences. Before the whole high school assembled, he would recite James Whitcomb Riley at great length. When he was a widower, he took Sue to a Kiwanis meeting when she was a teenager. She dressed up smartly, and he was proud to have her hanging on his arm. He loved to go to Sue's Mom's house and have green beans and fresh tomatoes from the garden. He and I shilled together at the Chateau and the Gorge, acting as if we were real gamblers, fooling no one at all. Then I would leave early, and he'd let me borrow his 38 Chevy to go pick up Sue with. He loved Sue and came to visit us in Sumter, SC in 1955, on the train, and Sue would feed him good food and we'd drive him around the countryside. I never knew a man who enjoyed life any more than Granddad Charlie."
Married Emma Dot Connell on September 14, 1904 in Orange County, Indiana, whom he is buried with.
Married Irene Wilson (surname from a prior marriage) on October 21, 1943 in Bowling Green, Warren County, Kentucky. They were divorced before 1950.
His World War I draft registration card described him as medium height, medium build, blue eyes and light hair, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was night watchman for Mr. Taggart and the railroad. Registrar's Report says "ankles imperfect due to accident."
His World War II draft registration card described him as 5' 9" tall, 185 pounds, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was self-employed.
He was a barber during the early years of his life. Later, he operated a small grocery store across from the post office in French Lick, IN, until shortly after World War II. The 1929 telephone directory lists his store at 205 College Street. When coffee was a nickel a cup, with no free refills, Charley had the reputation of drinking his cup two-thirds to three-quarters of the way down, then asking for his coffee to be "warmed up". Long after his death, there were people in southern Indiana, when they wanted their coffee warmed, would say "Charley Lane my coffee".
The Springs Valley Herald (February 3, 1905) reported " All kinds of people come to French Lick - millionaires and misers, princes and paupers, sports with money to throw at the birds and parsimonious old codgers who are so stingy and close that Pluto with all its penetration can't get through them. But the tightest, flintiest specimen of Shylock that ever struck this valley ambled into Charlie Lane's barber shop the other day for a shave. He sported the somewhat generous name of Pat Scanlan, and hailed from Peoria, Ill. Before taking the chair he inquired the price of a shave, and when told that it was 15 cents he threw up his hands in holy horror and started to leave for another shop; but when told that it was the same price concluded to remain. When Charlie came to the finishing touches and said 'Wet or dry?' Pat said, 'a little oil, please.' Charlie suggested a little tonic which Pat accepted, but when he went to settle and found that the tonic was 10 cents extra he raised a howl and swore he'd been buncoed. Then with tears in his eyes, he declared he was a poor man with barely enough to get home on. Thinking he might be a pauper, Charlie let him off. He is reported to be worth $200,000, and probably is, for he certainly has never squandered his money. He left for home feeling that French Lick was a skin game from first to last."
James Edward Lane reported that when he was a child, he loved to go to Charlie's grocery store at closing time. Charlie loved to go to the Shamrock (a bar and grill) to have a beer after work. To keep James happy while he was enjoying his beer, Charlie would buy him a hamburger. When Chester worked out of town (James thinks it might have been Lake Tahoe, NV) for a few months in the early 1940's, he asked Charles to take care of things. Whiskey was hard to get at this time, so Chester had his supply of good whiskey locked up and left the cheap stuff for Charlie to drink. However, Charlie found the key, and Chester returned to find much of his good whiskey gone and the cheap stuff practically untouched!
Chester Robert Lane reported "He ran a restaurant, a barbershop and a grocery where everyone bought their schoolbooks, new and used. He was a social animal who loved the Kiwanis club and other civic activities. He built a new house on Maple Street in 1917 (he would have been 39), in which he died in his sleep in 1957. He had given the house to Herb and Edie some years before. We remember him in his white 1950 Chevy coupe, with his dog Chips (whom Dad referred to as 'C-note' because they paid a $100 for him), with which he drove along country roads spitting tobacco out the driver window, staining the side of his car. He loved whiskey, food, tobacco, women, and audiences. Before the whole high school assembled, he would recite James Whitcomb Riley at great length. When he was a widower, he took Sue to a Kiwanis meeting when she was a teenager. She dressed up smartly, and he was proud to have her hanging on his arm. He loved to go to Sue's Mom's house and have green beans and fresh tomatoes from the garden. He and I shilled together at the Chateau and the Gorge, acting as if we were real gamblers, fooling no one at all. Then I would leave early, and he'd let me borrow his 38 Chevy to go pick up Sue with. He loved Sue and came to visit us in Sumter, SC in 1955, on the train, and Sue would feed him good food and we'd drive him around the countryside. I never knew a man who enjoyed life any more than Granddad Charlie."
Married Irene Wilson (surname from a prior marriage) on October 21, 1943 in Bowling Green, Warren County, Kentucky. They were divorced before 1950.
His World War I draft registration card described him as medium height, medium build, blue eyes and light hair, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was night watchman for Mr. Taggart and the railroad. Registrar's Report says "ankles imperfect due to accident."
His World War II draft registration card described him as 5' 9" tall, 185 pounds, residence was 210 Maple in French Lick, Indiana, occupation was self-employed.
He was a barber during the early years of his life. Later, he operated a small grocery store across from the post office in French Lick, IN, until shortly after World War II. The 1929 telephone directory lists his store at 205 College Street. When coffee was a nickel a cup, with no free refills, Charley had the reputation of drinking his cup two-thirds to three-quarters of the way down, then asking for his coffee to be "warmed up". Long after his death, there were people in southern Indiana, when they wanted their coffee warmed, would say "Charley Lane my coffee".
The Springs Valley Herald (February 3, 1905) reported " All kinds of people come to French Lick - millionaires and misers, princes and paupers, sports with money to throw at the birds and parsimonious old codgers who are so stingy and close that Pluto with all its penetration can't get through them. But the tightest, flintiest specimen of Shylock that ever struck this valley ambled into Charlie Lane's barber shop the other day for a shave. He sported the somewhat generous name of Pat Scanlan, and hailed from Peoria, Ill. Before taking the chair he inquired the price of a shave, and when told that it was 15 cents he threw up his hands in holy horror and started to leave for another shop; but when told that it was the same price concluded to remain. When Charlie came to the finishing touches and said 'Wet or dry?' Pat said, 'a little oil, please.' Charlie suggested a little tonic which Pat accepted, but when he went to settle and found that the tonic was 10 cents extra he raised a howl and swore he'd been buncoed. Then with tears in his eyes, he declared he was a poor man with barely enough to get home on. Thinking he might be a pauper, Charlie let him off. He is reported to be worth $200,000, and probably is, for he certainly has never squandered his money. He left for home feeling that French Lick was a skin game from first to last."
James Edward Lane reported that when he was a child, he loved to go to Charlie's grocery store at closing time. Charlie loved to go to the Shamrock (a bar and grill) to have a beer after work. To keep James happy while he was enjoying his beer, Charlie would buy him a hamburger. When Chester worked out of town (James thinks it might have been Lake Tahoe, NV) for a few months in the early 1940's, he asked Charles to take care of things. Whiskey was hard to get at this time, so Chester had his supply of good whiskey locked up and left the cheap stuff for Charlie to drink. However, Charlie found the key, and Chester returned to find much of his good whiskey gone and the cheap stuff practically untouched!
Chester Robert Lane reported "He ran a restaurant, a barbershop and a grocery where everyone bought their schoolbooks, new and used. He was a social animal who loved the Kiwanis club and other civic activities. He built a new house on Maple Street in 1917 (he would have been 39), in which he died in his sleep in 1957. He had given the house to Herb and Edie some years before. We remember him in his white 1950 Chevy coupe, with his dog Chips (whom Dad referred to as 'C-note' because they paid a $100 for him), with which he drove along country roads spitting tobacco out the driver window, staining the side of his car. He loved whiskey, food, tobacco, women, and audiences. Before the whole high school assembled, he would recite James Whitcomb Riley at great length. When he was a widower, he took Sue to a Kiwanis meeting when she was a teenager. She dressed up smartly, and he was proud to have her hanging on his arm. He loved to go to Sue's Mom's house and have green beans and fresh tomatoes from the garden. He and I shilled together at the Chateau and the Gorge, acting as if we were real gamblers, fooling no one at all. Then I would leave early, and he'd let me borrow his 38 Chevy to go pick up Sue with. He loved Sue and came to visit us in Sumter, SC in 1955, on the train, and Sue would feed him good food and we'd drive him around the countryside. I never knew a man who enjoyed life any more than Granddad Charlie."
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