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April 24, 1986


pix # 1 - Paty (Walsh) Foote, with Phoebe, their miniature long-haired dachshund, seated near the window in their mountain-home in Huntsville, Ala. The table in back of her in the photo originally belonged to her husband's grandfather, Col. Thaddeus Foote, commander of the Sixth Michigan Calvary. Harriet Beecher Stowe, niece of her husband's grandfather, had tea at the table.

pix # 2 - Paty Walsh as she appeared in 1942 when she graduated from Fostoria High.

(Author's Note: Today's article really started sometime in 1985, after "Potluck" received a letter which first was addressed to The Fostoria Chamber of Commerce, inquiring if there was any printed material pertaining to the time the Dillinger gang robbed the First National Bank. The writer, Mrs. Philip Foote, in her letter said she was anxious to get some copies of articles of Dillinger's "visit" because when she told the story to the folks in Huntsville, Ala., they didn't believe her.

I had copies of the Dillinger articles and set them post haste. Back came a prompt reply and from that point we carried on an exchange. She was a graduate of Fostoria High, and wrote very interestingly about her hometown, and people as she recalled them.)


Mrs. Foote "Paty," was a Walsh and will be remembered by some Fostorians, especially her FHS classmates of 1942. In one of her letters, she said "don't you tell that date." But I figured she was only kidding.

Readers will want to know more about Paty. She has had a very interesting life since she left Fostoria. In fact, I am going to let her tell much of the story herself...just as she told it to me, so that you will be able to see that she has a very humorous way of relating. In one of her letters she said "I'm Irish, and like to write," and you'll discover that as the article progresses.

"There was NOT a brass band at the railroad station when I left town, and I doubt that people remember or care. I had graduated from Tiffin University and went to Wright Field (Dayton) where I had a boss I adored, and I worked very, very hard at my job, going to school, and became an administrative assistant. I met (and dated more than one) of the flying "aces"...and then one day a friend said he wanted to take me to dinner, as a friend of his was coming in from Colorado who was on a higher echelon and he wanted a "blind date" to entertain this man with fascinating chit-chat. I said no, I was not in the mood to be fascinating. Then, I thought about the promotion I was bucking for and said, I'd go but this is NOT going in my 201 file if I'm not fascinating, will it?


The big-shot was Phil...Air Force Colonel Philip B. Foote...who later became her husband. He is now retired, but someplace in this article, readers will read more about where his job took them, and some of their experiences.

But first, about that first evening, when she met Phil. She must have known then that they were two-of-a-kind. Paty said Phil told a joke and "no one laughed but me, in fact I laughed every time I thought of it all evening...see if you think it is funny...

"A fellow was driving in the country and had a flat tire. He pulled up alongside a fence and was fixing it when a voice said 'Hello, there!' He looked all around and saw nothing but a horse. He turned back to the car and the voice said 'I said hello there.' The man thought it was incredulous and said to the horse 'Did you say that?' The horse said 'yes.' So a conversation began. The horse told him that he belonged to Farmer Jones, but he hated it, for he was a great racehorse and had won the Kentucky Derby.


"Just then, Farmer Jones appeared. He greeted the city-man and the city-man reached in his wallet and said 'I'll give you a thousand dollars for that horse.' The farmer said 'SOLD,' and snatched the money. The city-man started off with the horse and said 'You've never really appreciated this wonderful animal...he is going to make me rich.' The farmer guffawed and said 'Haw haw, you believed that stuff he told you about winnin' the Kentucky Derby, didn't you?'

"That is the weird bond that Phil and I have in common. I pick his books for him, his clothes. I can hear a new piece of music and think he'll love that and he does. I know his taste in everything. I can put on a ten year old dress and he'll say 'I like that new outfit you are wearing.'

"All I can tell you of interest to a newspaperman is that I lived in Europe and the Far East. We crossed the Pacific in a troop-ship during a typhoon. The captain took us to his cabin, and over his bed was a prayer "Dear God, your ocean is so big and my ship is so small" gave me a lot of confidence...his Rosary was hanging from his bed-lamp and it was listing because we were headed into the typhoon. All of that was when we were returning."


"Going over, I was seven months pregnant, flying in a B-17 with Phil piloting. Half-way between Tokyo and Manila, the No. 4 engine quit. I forgot to say we were outrunning a typhoon. The crew chief, a young sergeant, was so scared he spilled coffee over all his friends. I was terrified but dared not show it. Phil came out and sat with me (very nonchalantly) leaving the flying to the co-pilot. He said casually, 'We feathered No.4 to give it a rest.' I said, like heck you did, please get back to the cockpit."

"When we landed, they had the fire truck, foam, the works. I lumbered out and kissed the ground, just like the Pope does. Next day I was in Clark AFB hospital with premature labour pains, but that was all. It was not bravery that kept me calm, but pride.

"Once in the Casbah in Tangier, Africa, a little boy tending a shop sold me by mistake, genuine, ancient, priceless, amber jewelry, which had been used at one time for buying slaves. When the owner returned he sent two cut=throats after us to get that amber back. They chased us through that rabbit-warren of tiny streets where we could have been snatched inside a house and never seen again. Finally, we came to a public square where the crowds were watching a snake-charmer. We grabbed a cab and got out of there. I was ready to go back the next day, but Phil said, 'You are a marked person in that Casbah, and I forbid it.'"

Paty, in one of her letters, told me that after Col. Foote retired from the Air Corps, he immediately went to work for RCA on the Ballistic Missiles (BMEWS), inasmuch as he has three MOS's (Military Occupational Specialties) from his stint in the service.

Dick Lapidos, a former Fostorian who went to FHS at the time Paty did, was working at RCA at that time too.

In one of my letters to Paty, I remarked that her letters betrayed that she had writing ability...worthy of writing for publication.


Later, I learned from her that she had edited three newspapers in the Air Force, and started one in the Philippines which she named The Nippo News, and it is now an eight-page paper.

I learned that she won a writing contest in England, which she said was the thrill of her life..."for the English are snooty about owning the English language," she said.

Paty said, "I wrote a dedication on a painting the Americans (RCA Wives) donated to the Town Hall of Scarborough, Yorkshire. The mayor, with his alb and mace said 'My dear Mrs. Foote, this is Churchillian-English.'"

"These, Mr. Krupp, are the thrills of my life, to exceed none but the births of my two children. I like writing because I am Irish."

(To be continued)



"Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools." (Ecclesiastes 7:9. New International Version)

"A wise man controls his temper. He knows that anger causes mistakes." (Proverbs 14:29. The Living Bible, TLB)

"Dear Friends, never avenge yourselves. Leave that to God, for he has said that he will repay those who deserve it, (Don't take the law into your own hands.) (Romans 12:19. TLB)

"I tell you that if you are only angry, even in your own home, you are in danger of judgement! If you call your friend an idiot, you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if your curse him, you are in danger of the fires of hell." (Matthew 5:22. TLB).

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