BY ANDREA TORTORA
The Cincinnati Enquirer
FORT MITCHELL -- Robert Kloentrup and John Stolz, both 82, spent 10 years together at the Diocesan Catholic Children's Home, growing up from age 4 to 14.
It's been 68 years since the friends were farming their food with other children at the home and getting into all sorts of mischief with the nuns who took care of them.
Both men have since served in World War II, married and raised families complete with grandchildren and great-grandchildren. But for a few hours Saturday, over fried chicken and old photos, the two friends told stories about the children's home with such gusto and vivid detail it seemed they were recalling events just days old.
"One thing we did, it was so stupid," Mr. Kloentrup said, leaning in for emphasis. His briefcase of old photos and a legal pad on which he's been writing his memories spilled onto the tabletop. "I never told anyone this, but we found some live .22-caliber shells. We put them in between two bricks and then we hit the bricks with a hammer!
"It scared the daylights out of us when it went off."
Similar stories were told among other former children's home residents as they celebrated the home's 150th anniversary. Alumni from the Tristate and as far away as Montana were at the home Saturday as part of its annual summer festival, which continues today.
Proceeds will help with the home's operating costs as well as to fund a unique Assessment Crisis Stabilization Unit for boys ages 6 to 12. The home, no longer an orphanage, now provides long-term treatment for children ages 6 to 12. Many have suffered from physical abuse, neglect or sexual abuse by siblings or adults.
This year's event has taken on special importance because Bishop Robert Muench canceled a May fund raising dinner when Right to Life members complained about Gov. Paul Patton being the keynote speaker. Mr. Patton had vetoed a bill that would have required a 24-hour waiting period for abortions.
Back when Mr. Kloentrup of Edgewood and Mr. Stolz of Covington lived at the home, such controversies didn't exist. There were plenty of opportunities for the boys -- and girls -- to get into trouble, but most of their days were structured with chores.
"We had to do everything," Mr. Stolz said. "It was up at 6 and in bed at 8, unless we were cleaning string beans. We couldn't go to bed until they were all done."
The children at the home farmed their own food and helped staff make bread and sauerkraut. There were fun chores, too, like setting the pins at the bowling alley.
"I remember we were setting the pins once and this big, stout lady went to throw her ball and she went down the lane right along with it," Mr. Kloentrup said.
When they weren't swapping memories, the men showed pictures of their younger selves to Mr. Stolz's daughter, Elaine Jarboe, and her son, Michael, both of Independence. From his briefcase, Mr. Kloentrup pulled aging photos of their first communion, class pictures, posed shots near the home, and one with the boys near a fire hose.
The circumstances that made these two men friends are sad: Mr. Kloentrup was sent to the home after his father died. An aunt and uncle kept him for a short time, but they had eight children of their own. Mr. Stolz came with his three brothers after his mother died in a dentist's chair from too much nitrous oxide gas. His 3-month-old sister stayed with his grandfather.
Though most of Saturday's reminiscing was of happy times at the home, both men reminded each other and others listening in that there were bad experiences, too. The nuns could be mean; the boys were "worked like the devil" and all of the children were without the parents they loved.
In 1930, when both men were 14, they left the children's home for odd jobs. Then the Great Depression hit hard, and they found homes with relatives. Both served in the war, "a breeze after living here," Mr. Stolz said. And both men later returned to the Tristate to raise their families and make a living. Eventually, the men retired: Mr. Kloentrup from the U.S. Postal Service; Mr. Stolz from Western Southern Life Insurance.
Now these friends concentrate on telling their grandchildren about the children's home and how it shaped their lives. Mr. Kloentrup wants to write down everything he can and tape the rest on cassette. And someday he -- and Mr. Stolz -- would like to see the treasure chest in his briefcase compiled into a book.