Jefferson County Online A part of the IAGenWeb and USGenWeb Projects Who's Who in 1921 & 1922 Hugh Clayton Stevenson

"The Fairfield Tribune"
Friday, March 11, 1921
Page SIX

NO. 6

HUGH CLAYTON STEVENSON

Boy, page Mister Stevenson! Call for Mr. Stevenson! No answer? Very well, try to get Hugh Stevenson. Ah, here he comes.

And of course Hugh Stevenson wouldn't know you meant him if you called him "Mister." Everybody calls him Hugh, in just the most friendly, informal manner imaginable. That is to say, they do now. 'Twarn't always that way. Hugh used to be manager of the gas and electric company here. Lot of people didn't call him Hugh then--nor "Mister Stevenson," either. Things they called him wouldn't get by the censorship of Wilbur Dole if we were to print them.

Of course, when they called Hugh names they really were cussing the gas company. You know it's been one of the favorite indoor and outdoor pastimes in Fairfield to cuss the gas company. And Hugh had to be the goat. That's what made him prematurely grey haired. Hugh didn't like it very well, but he was game and had the diplomacy of an ambassador. And anyway, Jones & Hovey told him when he took the job that they wanted a man who was cuss-proof--otherwise he wouldn't do.

Like other great men of our country who have sprung from humble surroundings--Lincoln, McKinley, John Huglin, Garfield, and others--Hugh Clayton Stevenson was born on a farm, a Pennsylvania farm, at that. And, also like many of the others whose illustrious example he followed, he hitched his wagon to th eSar of Empire (sic) as it wended its way westward and rode in the old wagon till it lost a wheel at Creston, Iowa. Here Hugh began work as a bookkeeper for the gas company and entered upon the career which laid the foundation for his present wealth. When the gas company changed hands Hugh didnt know anything of the technical points of making gas but the new company thought he'd do anyway so put him in as manager.

Shortly after this Fairfield heard that a thing called electric light had been invented. With characteristic enterprise Fairfield decided to have one of the goldarn things, and was about the second town in Iowa to try out the new-fangled idea. So Hugh was sent to Fairfield. Hugh Clayton had some job on his hands to convince the owners of infant industries in this city that electric power could be used to advantage. But he did it.

Hugh liked Fairfield--and the people took a liking to him. They found they could cuss the gas company to their heart's content and Hugh Clayton wouldn't lose his temper. The gas company was doing a thriving business and the total receipts for the office sometimes run to nearly as high as $400 a month, this sum being almost adequate to pay the salaries of Hugh, Tom Ward and Charley Van Patten and such other expenses as were incurred.

Hugh pined to see the old Pennsylvania home, so he went back to take a look. Didnt' (sic) stay long though, for he had formed a liking for the roughneck west so he came back to Fairfield. In the meantime he'd helped put Spain out of the fighting game when that country got into that little fuss with America. Hugh was a general or a corporal or something in the army. War was a tame affair to him, however; he wanted to get back into the gas company business where there was some real excitement, adventure and fighting. His military bearing gained in his army service made Hugh something of a formidable figure and gas patrons were a bit cautious about cussing him when he came back to Fairfield as manager of the gas company. Hugh got along very nicely.

In his early quest of adventure Hugh started for Denver. He was a bit shy on money or he might have reached there. He did get into western Nebraska one time by reason of getting a job of taking some cattle out there. Was a pretty hard trip and Hugh Clayton wasn't stopping at the best hotels on the way. When he got back home the lonesome two-bit he had in his pocket looked mighty big, but he spent it for a haircut. Nothing like keeping up a good front, he had found out.

And speaking of hotels and good fronts brings us to the point that Hugh Clayton Stevenson is now in the hotel business. In his wanderings he had noted the tremendous size of the diamonds worn by hotel clerks and he vowed he would get into the hotel business some time. When he took over the Leggett hotel some half dozen years ago Hugh found that his gas company experience was a valuable asset to the hotel business. For hotel guests are pretty nearly as cranky as gas customers. But Hugh had learned the trick of keeping people squared up; now he can have an irate guest eating out of his hand in two minutes. And he always has "the best room in the house" left for the particular guest. Hugh has been known to let as many as a dozen guests have the best room in the house in a single night and then be ready with another best room or two in case of further demands.

But pleasing people just comes naturally to Hugh Clayton. He found long ago that it was just as easy and much more profitable to be pleasant and accommodating than to be a grouch. So you'll find that he always has a pleasant word for you--and what's more, a good word for the town he lives in. Taken by and large, Hugh Clayton Stevenson is a pretty agreeable sort of chap who, travelers will tell you, conducted a mighty good hotel; a fellow who will jump in any time and do his share of anything for the good of the town. And he'll speak to you friendly and sociable like, just as common as an old shoe, despite the fact that he stood for years on the dizzy heights which managers of gas companies attain.