Rose Hulman Institute of Technology - Modulus Yearbook (Terre Haute, IN)

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pointed. These men have many recollections of Mr. Rose and a warm interest in everything connected with him. Mr. Rose built the house on the northeast corner of Chestnut and Seventh, and also, later, the one immediately west of it; because, he said, he owed it to Terre Haute to build a good dwelling house. He, however, himself preferred the old frame building to the more pretentious house newly erected. So there he con- tinued to live, and there he finally died. Mrs. Heminway, like Mr. Rose in her tastes, preferred the old house to the new, and became its possessor after Mr. Rose’s death. The house has undergone very considerable alterations, yet it is essentially the same. Its modest exterior, broad verandah, low roof and rambling outlines and position in the midst of a grassy yard, or orchard nearly a full block in size, give it very much the appearance of an old New England farm house. The tradi- tions about the place have been very carefully preserved. The east wing, opening off the parlor, has been kept essentially as Mr. Rose left it. His bed room was here and a small room for books. His bed, the one on which he died, an old ma- hogany bedstead of French pattern, and various other articles of furniture that belonged to him are still here. His invalid chair has been doing charitable work ever since Mr. Rose’s time, as it has been constantly and freely loaned to any one in town who required its services. But perhaps to the citizens of Terre Haute the most interesting spot in this interesting old place is the library. This is really an historic room. During Mr. Rose’s time it was the financial heart of the com- munity. It would be futile to at- tempt to count the business careers that have begun in this room. It was the meeting place of all the commit- tees, trustees, directors, managers of the various enterprises of profit and charity with which Mr. Rose was connected. It was a combination of sitting room, office and library.] { Here the Polytechnic originated. Here the directors used to meet and later on here Col.

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there regarding Mr. Rose, such little things as give us a better insight into his daily life and private character. Mr. Rose knew how to watch the dimes and save them as well as to give them away. He wanted every man to pay him his debts scrup- ulously. He could then return the money if he chose, and he often did so, but paid it must be. He believed in simple living, and after he began to contemplate the Rose Orphans’ Home, he would often advise the members of his household to refrain from making some proposed expenditure, saying it would be taking the food from some poor orphan’s mouth. He kept a purse for private charity, and this becoming known caused him and his family much annoyance; begging calls at the door became very frequent. Mr. Rose had plenty of temper—Scotch temper, probably, and could use vigorous language when his sense of right- eous indignation was aroused. He was not afraid to take hold of work himself and it is said he has been seen many a time at the corner by the Terre Haute House, then his hotel, with a hoe in his hand scraping the mud from the crossings. It would do his heart good now if he could behold some of our dandified seniors with hair parted in the middle and perfumed with attar of roses, from dancing attendance upon the fair daughters of Terre Haute bon ton society, lay aside their fine raiment, draw on a pair of greasy overalls and go to shoveling coal or piling lumber or even cleaning out a steam boiler. There is in the library of the Polytechnic a photograph of Mr. Rose putting down the first Terre Haute oil well. It shows Mr. Rose in his character of a workman. He was very fond, too, of trimming his trees and working about in his lawn and garden. It is safe to say that few of the larger trees in the yard at the corner of Chestnut and Seventh street have not felt the touch of Mr. Rose’s jack knife. Mr. Rose had one good quality that has not often been described: He knew how to attach those who served him to himself with a warm feeling of affection. There are two old gentlemen living in Terre Haute today, who must have worked for Mr. Rose some 25 or 30 years. Serving men of the good old fashioned sort, who were in a cer- tain sense members of the family; who knew how to make their employer’s inter- ests their own, and who expected to be mentioned in his will and were not disap-

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W. K. Edwards, first Secretary of the Board of Managers of Rose Polytechnic Institute, Mr. Nippert, Mr. Collett, Mr. Peddle and other friends of Mr. Rose and his institutions were frequent visitors. Not only the traditions but the atmosphere of the place has been kept the same. The same kind of people have been wel- comed here as before, and while the old house has never been made the scene of festivities, it is safe to say no other room in Terre Haute is the center of so extended a social life in a quiet way, as the old Rose library. It is true the walls and the window at which Mr. Rose used to sit are about all that remain as they used to be, but it is easy for the imagination to call up again the great events of the old times. It is safe to say that hundreds of wills have been made in this room. Mr. Rose had no superstition about making wills, and used to make and unmake them often. It was here that Mr. Rose refused to sell the T. H. L. railroad, though he wanted to sell and was offered his price. He refused because the purchasers would not treat all the other stockholders as they did him. He insisted they should give the same price to all stockholders who wanted to sell. The would-be purchasers threatened to “bring the old man to his milk” by paralleling the road. Mr. Rose said then he would extend the line to St. Louis, but this he was prevented from doing by his advancing age. No event in the man’s life, not even the adjustment of his brother’s estate, shows his downright honesty in opposition to his own interests so well as this. Mr. Rose’s life will well repay study, especially by our Polytechnic students. It is full of good traits worthy of imitation, and not at all too perfect to be human.