Heini Ganzhorn

By Kit Zinser

Citizens in the history book of Washington continue to captivate and enthrall, and Heini Ganzhorn is no exception.  He is fodder for not just a good book...but most likely a great book.

But to know him, you must step back in time. In 1849, William Holland sold a plot of land to Albert Eldridge, which was subdivided into Eldridge's Outlots.  Friedrich Lohmeyer and his wife Carolina bought Lot 5 in 1896, and in 1900, purchased Lot 4 with a house only 12 years old. In 1901, the property was sold to their daughter, Lydia. She and her husband, Henry C. Ganzhorn, raised three children:  Lena 1900-1987; Mary 1901-1969; and Henry F.(“Heini”) 1903-1990. Today, under a stand of stately Oak and Black Walnut trees, Nick and Pam Ripley and family live in what is fondly and appropriately known as Lohmeyer Grove, a haven for wildlife, native grasses, and wildflowers.  How that must make Heini smile!

The start of school holds expected rituals today and back then. A new pencil and box of crayons, and depending on how long you went barefoot during the summer, most likely a new pair of shoes. Roehm's Shoe Store was the best in town.  A futuristic X-ray machine entertained many of us over the years.  The delight: pressing the nickel size button on top of the machine and watching the bones in your feet light up a glow stick green. 

Shoes were sturdier back then. Tossing a pair of shoes wasn’t an option.  Even if the shoe pinched, it still had life after replacing a new heel or sole.  Ask Heini, Washington’s finest cobbler. His shop smelled of leather, shoe wax, and tobacco. Huge leather sections hung from the rafters, and the floor was dotted with fragments as Heini worked diligently and precisely on a pair of pumps, work boots, or school shoes.  He wore a khaki shirt and pants to match.  His chin was covered with a little stubble of a beard, and his hair had that slick-backed Clark Gable look.  His brown eyes twinkled as he greeted adults with “Mrs.” or “Mr.” Kids were called Susie or Joe. 

His sister, Mary, married John King and moved to a new home; Heini and Lena stayed in the homestead.  Aunt Lena and Uncle Heini continued family traditions….holiday meals and celebrations for Mary’s children, Don and Wally, and later their families as well.  A shiny silver dollar awaited each child each Christmas.   Heini and Lena worked hard on the homestead, but nature caught up with them as they aged. Fortuitously, Heini’s philosophy on nature was:  God put it there, let it stay.

As a youngster, Heini was no stranger to hard work.  He delivered meat by horse and cart for Ortwein’s Butcher shop where his father worked.  He apprenticed at Roehm’s Shoe Store and then had his own leather shop on the North side of the square, later moving his business to 504 South Elm Street in the little concrete building which since has been torn down.  No one could craft a sole, heel, or leather belt like Heini. The cool part of having Heini repair your shoes was that they looked new when he finished.  No shoe left his shop without a shine and a buff.  That was the professional side of Heini.

Heini's personal side was not as easily perceived. Wally King, his loving nephew, testifies clearly to the craggy, enigmatic character we all wish we had known more intimately. He was frugal, to say the least (“It isn’t good to let people know you have money.”) However, when a customer was without funds, Heini found a way to take care of their needs and ensure they walked away satisfied.

His attitude seemed to be:  “Make the world a better place, but don’t be obvious about it.” Unsurprisingly, he was awarded the 32nd degree Mason, an honor for those who do selfless and unspoken deeds for others.

Heini collected guns and Indian artifacts.  He was passionate about firearm intricacies and was a lifetime member of the National Rifle Association.  For years, he competed on a crack rifle team with the Sullivans – Spud, Rip, Walt, and Bill.  Each weekend, they would travel the circuit, bringing home many ribbons.  Even though he was an avid hunter and sportsman, he appreciated each animal’s place in nature.  He was a student of the earth and could identify any species of plant, weed, flower, or tree.  He kept horses and dogs on his property, which attracted neighborhood children over the years.  His beloved white dog, named Blizzard, was a true and loyal companion. 

He was an avid student of history and geography, reading voraciously.

Asked once: “Heini, what have you been up to?”  

In his gravelly voice, he replied, “Oh, Duke, (another moniker), been to South America.” whereupon he recounted the travels so vividly that the guy was almost sure Heini had left town.  But Heini was one of those people who lived what he read.

More importantly, he was a patriot.  As he walked about town in his waning years, one could spot him standing smartly at attention, saluting each flag he passed. When he was a resident of Washington Christian Village,  the nurses always felt flattered as he passed the nursing station, pausing briefly and saluting.  Later, they realized Heini was saluting the flag he dimly saw through the window behind the desk.

“To thine own self be true”….Heini embraced those words….and as he lived and worked in the heart of our community, Henry F. Ganzhorn crafted a legacy for his family, and we are all better people because of him.

Heini is pictured below in front of his cement block workshop on S. Elm Street. Note the handmade sign and his strong hands—his life’s blood.