Wednesday, January 31, 2018

My City Is Gone"

“I went back to Ohio but my city was gone
There was no train station, there was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared, all my favorite places
My city had been pulled down, reduced to parking spaces”
            “My City Was Gone,” The Pretenders

The Pretenders originally released “My City Was Gone” in 1982 as the “B” side to their hit “Back on the Chain Gang.”  It makes references to Chrissie Hynde’s hometown of Akron, in particular the leveling of its historic downtown to make way for an urban plaza, three skyscrapers and a pair of parking decks. Hynde often referred to it as her Ohio song, but that was not its title because of Crosby, Still, Nash and Young’s popular song named “Ohio,” about the 1970 Kent State massacre.

On a list of the fastest shrinking cities, according to USA Today, half were located in America’s so-called Rustbelt, including Steubenville and Youngstown, Ohio.  These cities generally have an aging population and are heavily dependent on manufacturing.  Gary was not listed, as its population has apparently leveled off at around 80,000 after falling by well over 50 percent from its peak of almost 180,000 in 1960.  Thanks to the vision of former mayor Richard Hatcher and present mayor Karen Freeman-Wilson, Gary is still hanging on despite the disappearance of many old landmarks and, I optimistically hope, poised to grow in the event of a change in federal priorities.

David Goldfield’s new book, “The Gifted Generation: When Government Was Good,” argues that 1968 was the turning point when the country turned its back on the “commonwealth” ideal of enhancing opportunity for all Americans and, in particular, the nation’s urban poor.  In the wake of riots in Watts, Harlem, Newark, and Detroit, and then in dozens of cities (but not Gary) following the assassination of Martin Luther King, a white backlash vaulted Richard Nixon to the presidency on the basis of a racist, law-and-order, Southern strategy.  Here’s Goldfield description of Newark, New Jersey’s sudden transformation:
Newark’s industrial base cratered in the 1960s just when the migration of poor blacks from the South reached its peak.  Urban renewal programs, rather than add to the housing stock, displaced a higher percentage of poor residents than in any other city.  Office towers and civic plazas replaced the housing, moving poor families into five massive housing projects in one section of the city.
              As poor black residents poured into Newark, middle-class whites streamed out.  Between the early 1950s and the mid-1960s, the city had shifted from two-thirds white to two-thirds black, the fastest population turnaround of any American city except for Detroit and Gary, Indiana.  The school system deteriorated, with substitute teachers instructing one quarter of the classes. Comic books were the only reading material in some classrooms.
above, shuttered library by Samuel A. Love; below reopening, NWI Times photo by Kale Wilk
Gary’s downtown library reopened after six years of dormancy.  It’s about time!  In return, however, the DuBois branch is closing, and Woodson Library in Miller will reduce its hours. On exhibit on the second floor are artworks by Felix Maldonado, whom I met at an IUN exhibit of his work that Ann Fritz curated.
According to Sonia Purnell’s “Clementine: The Life of Mrs. Winston Churchill” (2015), our February book club selection, Britain’s wartime First Lady was a “fire watcher” during the London Blitz, perched on a rooftop scanning the sky during nighttime air raids with binoculars searching for fires caused by German bombs.  Purnell wrote: “Surrounded by the deafening clatter of gunfire and choking on the stench of sulfur and gunpowder, she braved all the attendant dangers of being badly burned, cut by shrapnel, or worse.”
Chancellor Lowe among those in overflow audience to hear Rhiannon Carlson; Times photos by John J. Watkins
Transgender army vet Rhiannon Carlson spoke to an overflow crowd in the IUN Robin Hass Birky room.  A counselor at IU South Bend, Carlson served as an airborne paratrooper during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and still looked like she could lick anyone in the audience.  After laying out a seven-step process for effecting change, Carlson exclaimed: Our opposition is highly organized, professional, [but] being a social-change agent is rewarding. There is no high like it.”  She lamented that Indiana law does not protect the LGBT community and that Hoosier legislators again failed to pass hate crime legislation.  As former IUN professor Anne Balay learned and Carlson reiterated: “Your boss can say ‘You’re gay.  You’re out.’”   Anne’s kid Avi, whom I knew as Leah, recently defended her master’s thesis.
above, Avi Balay; below, VU podcast class and guest; photo by Liz Wuerffel
At Valparaiso University, I spoke to Liz Wuerffel’s podcast class about doing oral history from the bottom up. Tracing my checkered career, I emphasized my efforts to reach a broad audience rather than just write for academicians. I showed them copies of Traces that included my articles on Carlton Hatcher, Tony Zale, and Reverend L.K. Jackson.  They had read my latest Steel Shavings and peppered me with questions.  I loved it.  Liz noted that unlike most of her classes, more than half of the 16 students were from the Calumet Region.  Gabrielle “Gabby” McCullough Hanks was an articulate Gary Horace Mann grad and Carly Newton a Valpo native who participated in several Popcorn Fest parades with her high school band.  Afterwards Liz sent me a group photo she took along with this note: “Both your talk and the Q&A were wonderful, and I know your stories about audio interviews gone wrong are good for the students to hear as they prepare to record their own. Thank you so much for the history and wisdom you brought to class.”
 Ralph Kipness in Michigan City basement
I checked out an amazing display of Ralph Kipness marionettes at VU’s Brauer Museum.  There were likenesses of pop singers like Michael Jackson and Founding Fathers such as Ben Franklin.  According to a companion booklet, marionettes have 16 moveable parts, and I’d love to observe Michigan City native Kipness putting on a puppet show.  Liz said she observed the marionettes when they were lying on their side rather than propped up on strings, and the effect was disquieting.

Dee Van Bebber and I finished first at the Chesterton bridge game with a score of 65.08%.  One hand, Charlie Halberstadt opened the bidding at 4 Clubs, a preempt, as he had nine Clubs headed by a King, Queen.  Dee doubled, and then everyone passed.  His partner Tom Wade had ten points but no Clubs.  We set the hand down two vulnerable for 500 points and high board, due to Dee’s double.  When I mentioned 91-year-old Tony Bennett singing strands of “New York, New York” at the Grammys, 86-year-old kindred spirit Dottie Hart replied that she loved Lady Gaga’s Grammy medley of “Joanne” and “Million Reasons.”  Me, too.

After asking George Sisco for background information on himself and about memorable bridge experiences, Sidney Hawkins received this reply in several subsequent emails:
I was born on July 31, 1939 and grew up in Marshall, Arkansas, located in the southern Ozark Mountains.  My father was a funeral director.  My mother worked in the 3 funeral homes they owned and was a substitute teacher.  My only brother also was a funeral director before he retired.  In 1961, I graduated from Hendrix College in Conway, Arkansas with a degree in music.  My instruments were piano and trumpet.  I became a high school band director in Dermott, Arkansas.  In 1962, I married fellow teacher Roslyn Grigsby. We have one child, a daughter who currently serves as Education Director for the Old State House Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas.  In 1969, I switched careers from music to data processing.  I have worked for the Missouri State Department of Revenue, the Missouri Supreme Court, and as head of data services for four different hospitals. In 2002, I retired from Porter Memorial in Valparaiso.  After several months of retirement, I began a new career as an income tax preparation specialist.  I am now completely retired as of April of 2016. 
I loved all kinds of card games in my youth but did not learn to play Bridge until college.  I married a bridge player.  We have played all through our marriage and continue to enjoy the game very much.  We actually took bridge lessons when we first moved to Valparaiso for the purpose of learning the most up-to-date bidding techniques and how to improve playing hands.  We prefer duplicate bridge, but still participate in what is known as party bridge with friends. It is a very challenging game and sometimes frustrating but never boring.  We play together in three different monthly bridge clubs. I play with three other gentlemen Mondays and attend the weekly game at the Banta Center in Valparaiso on a fairly regular basis.  I have never played in a bridge tournament and really do not care to do so, due to the level and seriousness of competition.  I play bridge to meet people, have a good time, and enjoy the competition without the aggressiveness found in tournaments.
I recently was dealt a hand with 26 points, more than I ever remember getting.  I opened with a force bid of 2 clubs.  My partner came back with a 2-spade bid.  I immediately jumped to Blackwood and asked for the number of Aces and Kings.  It turned out we had all four Aces and that spades should be our trump suit.  We were missing one king, so I set the bid at 6 spades.  The hand was actually a lay-down at 7 spades because the missing King was in the right place to finesse.  Fun, Fun, Fun!  Some players might have gambled and gone for a grand slam of 7 spades, but I did not see this as a viable risk.  As it turned out, we got a high board on that hand.  The hand would also have made 7 No-Trump, which would be the highest score possible, but no one even bid 6 No-Trump, which would have topped our score by 10 points.  That situation is what makes this game so challenging and ultimately very enjoyable.  There are so many ways to play a bridge hand, but you have to decide what is the best bid and then how to play the cards properly. 

From Ed Hollander Emily Linz learned about his personal life and views towards Bridge. Here is a summary of their interaction:
On September 14, 2017, Ed Hollander and I met at a Starbucks in Valparaiso for two hours. He was in his words a war baby, born on December 31, 1942.  He explained: “I also have two cousins with birthdays in December 1942 and one in February of 1943. There were lots of pregnancies as men went off to World War II in March, April, and May of 1942.”  Ed and his wife lived most of their life in St. Louis but moved to Northwest Indiana to be closer to their three children and six grandchildren.  Ed first began playing bridge while in college, where a group played after lunch.  The social aspect is the main reason Ed enjoys playing, but he finds bridge to be mentally stimulating as well.  His wife used to play but not recently. Hollander has played at the senior center in Michigan City, as well as the Banta Center in Valparaiso.  Some levels can be extremely competitive, he stated, especially at tournaments.
Ed Hollander at Banta Center, photo by Emily Linz
On September 27, 2017, I visited the Banta Center and saw Mr. Hollander play bridge with many others, dispersed at various tables.  Before the game people were socializing and enjoying refreshments. Observing them bid and play hands allowed me to ask questions in more depth in subsequent emails.  For example, Ed told me that his most vivid bridge memories are bidding and making “slam bids,” that is, taking 12 of the 13 possible tricks or in rare cases, all 13.  Asked about other group activities, Hollander replied: “I am on the board of our condo homeowners association, occasionally play chess at a local chess club, and I also participate in Temple activities.”  Regarding why bridge is so difficult to learn, Ed replied: “Even though the card logic is similar to other games like Hearts, Spades, or Rummy games, bridge requires understanding bidding systems and partnership communication.”  He regretted that, unlike chess, bridge does not seem to attract younger players. He went on to say, “I am not sure why. There are lots of scholastic support programs for teaching chess to grade school kids, but nothing comparable for bridge.  I would tell young people it is an enjoyable social pastime. People often have the impression that bridge is difficult and requires a lot of study. I would rather people be comfortable and not worry about winning or making errors.”