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by Joel Mader (Author)
The Woodhill Road neighborhood of Cleveland, Ohio, was, for over half a century, the home of common people going about their common lives. Home to a group of people with Slavic ancestry, this community served as home for those who came from a country that never had an identity of its own. They longed to be a part of a nation that they could call their own, and so they told their stories of America to their children, around the supper table, at church picnics, and with one another in familiar places.
One such store is Mader Hardware on Woodhill Road, a popular place for men, old and young, to spend hours at a time. More than a place to shop, Mader is a place for stories. Men settle in and get comfy. Tall tales start slow and vague, with openings like, "You won't believe what happened to me today." The stories build on each other, into a cacophony of culture and experience.
The stories of these men are an ode to Cleveland, an ode to their motherland, and an ode to the human experience, as they share the little moments that truly mean something in the grand scheme of life.
