This cabin
at Prince’s Lake in southern Indiana was the site of many good times for Ed and Gin Niehaus’s family. Uncle Ed, his son Bill, and Ed’s brother Larry built the cabin in the early 1950s. This photo is of those early days. Sisters, brothers, cousins, grandchildren and friends all have fond memories of floating on inner tubes on the lake, fishing from the shore - enjoying the company and surroundings. It wouldn’t be right to make this post without including a second photo of my Uncle Ed 
relaxing on the deck that he added to the cabin.Ed and Gin’s daughter, my cousin Marilyn, shared some thoughts with me of her memories of Prince’s Lake:
There were many memories built at this cabin over the years not only by our family, but also by our friends and extended family members. I remember the times that Uncle Robert and Aunt Emma and their girls and later their grandchildren would come and fish and spend weekends. Jerry and I spent our three day honeymoon there as well. Mom and her sister, Peg, spent many weekends down there together after Dad and Shad had passed away.
Thanks for the memories! What’s your Prince’s Lake story?
Copyright © Nancy Niehaus Hurley
Uncle Robert also caught a huge 20 lb catfish off the pier one year. After seeing that I wasn't too keen about swimming in the lake for a long time.
ReplyDeleteI also remember the time when Aunt Gert, Bernard, and the kids were down for the weekend. Bernard threw Bernie into the lake and told him to "learn how to swim or drown" My dad jumped in and saved him and I thought he was going to KILL Bernard when he got out of the lake. Everybody was livid over it and all hell broke loose. Grandma Niehaus was cussing him out something fierce to! Needless to say, he was never invited there again......
I sure do miss this place. We couldn't afford the upkeep on it, the taxes and insurance, and over $8,000 needed to hook up to the water and gas they were bringing over from Camp Atterbury. It was mandatory to hook up to and the boys and I didn't have the money to do it.
I still drive down there from time to time just to look around and reminisce about the good times.
Thanks for writing this article.
Marilyn
Wow, 20 lbs catfish!! I would have loved to have some of that one fried up fresh. Glad your dad was there for Bernie. What a situation that must have been. Thanks for sharing more memories. This was definitely a good chapter in our family history.
DeleteIn the earlu 1950"s when they were putting building Madison Ave between Manual High School and Terrace Ave, Dad purchased a home at auction. He and Bill and some of the uncles, took it apart board by board. All the lumber and some of the plumbing from that home was used to build the cabin. They would work until dark most nights and all weekend and then haul the lumber out to Grandma Niehaus's place. They did that for several months. Then the next spring, they would load it onto a truck to take it down to the land where they would build the cabin. When they tried to drive the truck up the big hill, the truck"s front end came up off the ground. Dad jumped up on the front of the truck to weigh it down, then they were able to make it up the hill. I was too young to remember, but Bill told me about that. That plumbing was still working in the cabin when we sold it! I also remember Bill and a friend from the neighborhood, (Joe Borman) helped Dad dig the septic tank. That took for ever. Uncle Larry laid the concrete foundation. He also taught Bill how to do that and that was the trade Bill took on later in life. Bill was only around 10 years old when that was done. When they first purchased the lot, Uncle Charles and Aunt Chloe Mae went in half on the price. Later on,, Dad paid him back for it and they bought a lot in Painted Hills around Martinsville, In, but they never built on it. There was a lot of sweat, tears, and sore muscles experienced in the building of this cabin. Our family enjoyed well over 30 years in that cabin. I do miss it dearly, but have many fond memories of happy times spent with family and friends.
ReplyDeleteHi Marilyn, I love hearing you tell this story. It was truly a labor of love that involved sooooo many memories! I can just see your Dad jumping on the front of the truck to keep it down so they could make it up the hill. Thanks again, Nancy
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