“There are so many wars that just can’t be won
Even before the battle’s begun.”
Wilco
Most of our troops deployed in Iraq have concluded their long way home for Christmas. Bombs exploded throughout Baghdad yesterday, killing scores. The Shiite Iraqi government wanted us out (thankfully), so they’ll have to deal with disgruntled Sunnis without our help. The next domino in the Mideast cauldron appears to be Syria, whose president, Bashar-al-Assad, is responsible for the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, of protestors. If a Republican wins in 2012, chances are we’ll be pulled into another war, perhaps with Iran. Admiral William H. McRaven, the SEAL team commander who organized the raid that took out Osama bin Laden and a runner-up as Time magazine person of the Year, praised Barack Obama as a steady, brave, knowledgeable commander in chief. I shudder to think what might happen if someone like Gingrich replaces him.
Because I work in IUN’s library as CRA co-director, I got invited (first time) to their holiday lunch. A highlight was chatting with Lois, former director Bob Moran’s secretary whom I hadn’t seen in years, and Jackie Cheairs, whose brother-in-law just returned from Iraq, hopefully for good, after multiple deployments. Because the vice chancellor wanted the library open even though the semester is over, Tim Sutherland ordered food from Strack and Van Til’s. The chicken and ham were good and the ribs tough, and the mashed potatoes a pleasant surprise. I ate so much I skipped my normal yogurt before bowling. At Cressmoor Lanes my Engineers won five of seven and would have swept the Dingbats had Bobby McCann not doubled in the tenth of the third game.
Upon arriving home, I was greeted by Phil and Diamond, out for his final pee of the evening. When the others retired for bed, I watched Letterman, who had John Huntsman on (he’d make a great Obama cabinet member). Dave worked two viral YouTube excerpts into his monologue, one of monkeys riding dogs and the other of a FedEx employee tossing a package containing a TV over a fence.
Thursday my nuclear family (Toni, Phil, Dave, and I) spent the day together. It was great. Normally Dave does not like music on while playing games, but he had no objection to The Decembrists, Arcade Fire, and Wilco. After Amun Re and Acquire, we played seven pinochle games. The guys were all smiles after winning the first two, but the old folks took the next four out of five. We finished with an abbreviated Texas hold ’em match.
Vandals have desecrated the Marquette Park Pavilion, which is undergoing a multi-million dollar facelift. Not only did they steal copper pipes, they started a fire inside and smeared graffiti on the walls. Dave and Angie got married there. Poor Gary. How many black eyes can the city survive?
Yesterday I paid $2.99 a gallon filling up the Corolla. Today the price had jumped to $3.39.
The Congressional fight over extending tax cuts and unemployment benefits appears over, with Republican House members apparently caving in the face of almost universal criticism, even from Senate Republicans. Judge Louis Rosenberg decertified Indiana Secretary of State Charlie White for fraudulently stating his residence. State Rep Charlie Brown, meanwhile, is stepping up his drive to ban smoking in public places in time for the Superbowl, taking place in Indy in six weeks.
Driving to the library on its last day open until January 3, 2012, I heard Supertramp’s “Take the Long Way Home,” which contains these lines: “When the day comes to settle down, who’s to blame if you’re not around?” I worked on the Maggie Comer chapter of “On Their Shoulders.” Like Marie Arredondo, she sacrificed so that her children might have an opportunity to fully develop their talents.
At Gaard Logan’s suggestion I Googled artist Bo Bartlett, who gave to the Tacoma Art Museum a painting entitled “Brooklyn Crucifixion.” A comely woman in a pink bathrobe is hanging by ropes that have caused her wrists to bleed. Flanking her are an artist and a bearded man who resembles Chain Potok whose novel about rebellious Hasidic Jew, “My Name Is Asher Lev,” inspired Bartlett. Gaard’s book club is currently reading the novel, which I had never heard of. Here’s a quote from Asher’s teacher: “As an artist you are responsible to no one and nothing, except to yourself and the truth as you see it. Do you understand? An artist is responsible to his art. Anything else is propaganda.”
On Facebook Pat Zollo mentioned getting together with Tom Curry, and we exchanged messages about Paul Curry, whose C130 was shot down in Vietnam. It caused me to shed a tear thinking about finding Paul Curry’s name on The Wall in Washington. It took a little time because I hadn’t realized Paul was his middle name. Terry Jenkins, whom I’m still close to, was probably Paul’s best friend and a pallbearer, I believe, at the funeral. When we were kids, the three of us were out with our sleds trying to catch rides on the back fenders of cars that stopped at a Summit Avenue intersection near Kirk’s Store. A police car came by, and Paul muttered, “Dirty copper.” The car screeched to a halt and the officer said, “What did you say?” Without batting an eye Paul replied, “Dirty rubber.” It made no sense, but the policeman said something like, “Well, watch what you say” and drove off. From then on saying “Dirty rubber” is an inside joke with us that evokes memories of Paul.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Concept
“She wears denim wherever she goes
Says she’s gonna get some records by the Status Quo.”
“The Concept,” Teenage Fanclub
On the sleazy reality show “Jersey Shore,” a hit with many young adults, there’s a character that calls himself The Situation. With that precedent I should call myself The Concept.
Friday an apparently homeless man was sitting outside the IUN library wrapped in two blankets. A half hour later, the blankets remained but he was gone. In contrast to cities like Chicago and Boston, you rarely see such scenes locally. About a year ago a beggar came into the cafeteria, but a campus cop quickly whisked him out. Former Chancellor Peggy Elliott told me this anecdote from the early 1980s: “One night I got a call from security around two a.m. An officer making his rounds had discovered two young children in the shadows near the fountain. They had been abandoned. The boy remembered he had been to a friendly place and somehow found his way, with his little sister, to the campus. A desperate child saw our campus as a refuge. Our investment in beauty and security brought us returns in ways we never could have imagined.” Could the man wrapped in blankets have been the same person 30 years later?
Fred McColly stopped by my “cage” after checking on his Native American garden. He needs a ground cover of four inches of snow to insure the survival of his winter wheat seeds. Daughter Sarah, one of my best former students and on the cover of my Nineties issue, is about to give birth.
I ate free courtesy of IUN for the third time in as many days: fried chicken and the trimmings, including Cole slaw and scallions with just the right texture and bite, at the Arts and Sciences Holiday party. Dean Hoyert gave a witty poetry recitation that began, “Twas the week of the finals,” a take-off on the 1823 Clement C. Moore poem “Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas” better known as “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” He devoted a stanza to excuses used by students petitioning for an incomplete: “My brother’s in jail and I have the flu, I had to work and grandma died too,” followed by the dean’s advice to “fail the transgressors” and “ignore the complaints, the whines, the begging.” He ends on this note:
“While most of our students are the best of our youth
There are some that can drive you to gin and vermouth!
In the end, teaching’s a calling, it’s honored, it’s right
Happy end of the semester and to all a good night.”
I sat with historian Chris Young, Vice Chancellor David Malik, and Fine Arts faculty Jennifer Greenburg, who has produced a unique photography book called “The Rockabillies.” At first glance the representations appear to be from the postwar period, but they depict modern day emulators of Fifties styles, from the pompadour haircuts and slicked back hair to the sounds of Buddy Holly and Carl Perkins. Prominent are tattoos, classic cars, period furniture, radios, comics and albums and, most striking, clothes styles harkening back to my high school days, including white bucks and saddle shoes. Curator Karen Irvine wrote: “By making photographs worthy of a glossy fashion magazine, Greenburg places the rockabilly’s nostalgia in a contemporary context, revealing a tension between the traditionalism and rebelliousness of their subculture.” Jennifer mentioned that a recent trend in museums is deleting explanations about the work. In an experiment for an Aesthetics class at Bucknell I showed a painting to different groups, telling some the piece was untitled, as was the case, and then making up titles. Except for art majors, most preferred a title.
Suzanna Murphy sent me a self-published book entitled “Stories from the Old Stone House” about her “grama,” who lived to be well over 100. She rode a horse, Old Sam, to her one-room schoolhouse. Old Sam returned to his stable on his own after dropping her off.
Charlize Theron in “Young Adult” plays Mavis Gary, a self-absorbed writer of books designed for teenagers who returns to her “hick” hometown hoping to lure old boyfriend Buddy Slade into leaving his wife and young baby. Diablo Cody, responsible for “Juno,” wrote the excellent screenplay and, so far as I know, coined the word “Ken-taco-hut.” Mavis hangs out in such places in order to pick up the latest “young adult” dialogue. On the drive from Minneapolis Mavis puts on a Teenage Fanclub tape, including her and Buddy’s song “The Concept,” which makes reference to the English “boogie band” Status Quo, whose number one UK hit in 1975 was “Down, Down.” At a bar Buddy’s wife sings “The Concept” with her band Nipple Confusion, sending Mavis into a jealous fit. After her inevitable comeuppance she goes back to Mini-Apple (as local wannabes still call the Twin city) sadder but wiser.
Saturday at Miller Pizza Joe Petras hosted the annual Men and Boys Holiday Benefit Brunch. Proceeds help maintain the Marquette Park playground. I sat with Tom Eaton, Ted Prettyman, and the Spicer brothers. Years ago, Prettyman ran for Miller Beach precinct committeeman against Dick Hagelberg and Mike Chirich and lost to Chirich by a single vote. Mike has remained in the post ever since. Purdue fan Jack Tonk and IU booster Matt Diltz were razzing each other, and George Rogge talked about getting all groups interested in the future of Miller Beach together. I invited Melvin Nelson, thinking Joe’s brother-in-law Jim Walton, on our bowling team years ago, would be there, but he was in Kentucky due to a family emergency. Joe announced that total donations in 21 years reached $5,000.
In an all-Indiana doubleheader Purdue lost to Butler on a last-second tip-in, while IU defeated Notre Dame in a grinder. Evening at the Hagelbergs featured southwestern chicken and two rounds of bridge.
Sunday I went two for four gaming, winning Acquire and Viking, then watched Seattle slaughter the Bears in another abysmal performance by their backup quarterback Caleb Hanie. If only they had Kyle Orton, cut from Denver earlier in the year, who led Kansas City to a win over previously unbeaten Green Bay. Dave and Angie teased me about going to Hawaii without them. I called Seattle Joe while listening to an Accept CD he had given me and talked about the awesome time ahead on the Big Island.
Monday I picked up macadamia nuts at Albanese in Merrillville and stopped at the Lake County Library. I gobbled up a rare copy of my Sports Shavings issue that was on sale for a quarter. A label on the inside of the front cover identified James Mulloy as the former owner.
Lunched at Gino’s with lawyer Tim Sendak, whose dad was Indiana attorney general for eight years. He provided me with great anecdotes about grandparents Jack and Annette, whom I will be writing about in “On Their Shoulders.” Annette was evidently a pool shark in London who paid for her fare to America from her winnings. When Jack wouldn’t buy her a car, she started a fur company and bought a Buick once she saved enough money of her own. At their summer place on the St. Joseph River, Tim recalled, Annette had a massive clock collection set at different times so that one chimed every few minutes. Apparently she didn’t like a quiet house. I ordered a delicious steak and portabella sandwich, half of which I took home.
Grandkids were in a school Christmas program. James played the xylophone and drums, and Rebecca sang with her fourth grade class. It was a mob scene getting in and out but fun seeing the kids shine.
Steelers-49ers contest in San Francisco was delayed due to a power outage (reminiscent of the 1989 earthquake during a Cubs-Giants playoff game), so I put on a Decembrists CD.
Time’s Person of the Year is The Protestor, a fine choice given Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street. Among its year-old RIP tributes are essays about actor Peter Falk (I loved “Columbo”) and “60 Minutes” commentator Andy Rooney, who was on the show 31 years, starting when he was 61. Like Walter Cronkite, he had been an ace World War II correspondent. His longevity reminded me of newsman Tom Cannon, who came to Gary in his 60s and commenced a new 30-year career highlighted by his “Flue Dust” column.
Republican officeholders, realizing that Newt would be a disastrous party standard bearer, are flocking to Mitt, who helped Letterman do the Top Ten list of things he’d like to say to the American people (number 9 was, “What’s up gangstas, it’s the M-i-double tizzle”). Newt’s 1994 Contract with America got him elected Speaker of the House, but his downfall was causing a government shutdown and impeaching Clinton for receiving a blow job when he was guilty of much greater moral lapses. Number 2 on Mitt’s list was, “Newt Gingrich, really?”
Says she’s gonna get some records by the Status Quo.”
“The Concept,” Teenage Fanclub
On the sleazy reality show “Jersey Shore,” a hit with many young adults, there’s a character that calls himself The Situation. With that precedent I should call myself The Concept.
Friday an apparently homeless man was sitting outside the IUN library wrapped in two blankets. A half hour later, the blankets remained but he was gone. In contrast to cities like Chicago and Boston, you rarely see such scenes locally. About a year ago a beggar came into the cafeteria, but a campus cop quickly whisked him out. Former Chancellor Peggy Elliott told me this anecdote from the early 1980s: “One night I got a call from security around two a.m. An officer making his rounds had discovered two young children in the shadows near the fountain. They had been abandoned. The boy remembered he had been to a friendly place and somehow found his way, with his little sister, to the campus. A desperate child saw our campus as a refuge. Our investment in beauty and security brought us returns in ways we never could have imagined.” Could the man wrapped in blankets have been the same person 30 years later?
Fred McColly stopped by my “cage” after checking on his Native American garden. He needs a ground cover of four inches of snow to insure the survival of his winter wheat seeds. Daughter Sarah, one of my best former students and on the cover of my Nineties issue, is about to give birth.
I ate free courtesy of IUN for the third time in as many days: fried chicken and the trimmings, including Cole slaw and scallions with just the right texture and bite, at the Arts and Sciences Holiday party. Dean Hoyert gave a witty poetry recitation that began, “Twas the week of the finals,” a take-off on the 1823 Clement C. Moore poem “Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas” better known as “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” He devoted a stanza to excuses used by students petitioning for an incomplete: “My brother’s in jail and I have the flu, I had to work and grandma died too,” followed by the dean’s advice to “fail the transgressors” and “ignore the complaints, the whines, the begging.” He ends on this note:
“While most of our students are the best of our youth
There are some that can drive you to gin and vermouth!
In the end, teaching’s a calling, it’s honored, it’s right
Happy end of the semester and to all a good night.”
I sat with historian Chris Young, Vice Chancellor David Malik, and Fine Arts faculty Jennifer Greenburg, who has produced a unique photography book called “The Rockabillies.” At first glance the representations appear to be from the postwar period, but they depict modern day emulators of Fifties styles, from the pompadour haircuts and slicked back hair to the sounds of Buddy Holly and Carl Perkins. Prominent are tattoos, classic cars, period furniture, radios, comics and albums and, most striking, clothes styles harkening back to my high school days, including white bucks and saddle shoes. Curator Karen Irvine wrote: “By making photographs worthy of a glossy fashion magazine, Greenburg places the rockabilly’s nostalgia in a contemporary context, revealing a tension between the traditionalism and rebelliousness of their subculture.” Jennifer mentioned that a recent trend in museums is deleting explanations about the work. In an experiment for an Aesthetics class at Bucknell I showed a painting to different groups, telling some the piece was untitled, as was the case, and then making up titles. Except for art majors, most preferred a title.
Suzanna Murphy sent me a self-published book entitled “Stories from the Old Stone House” about her “grama,” who lived to be well over 100. She rode a horse, Old Sam, to her one-room schoolhouse. Old Sam returned to his stable on his own after dropping her off.
Charlize Theron in “Young Adult” plays Mavis Gary, a self-absorbed writer of books designed for teenagers who returns to her “hick” hometown hoping to lure old boyfriend Buddy Slade into leaving his wife and young baby. Diablo Cody, responsible for “Juno,” wrote the excellent screenplay and, so far as I know, coined the word “Ken-taco-hut.” Mavis hangs out in such places in order to pick up the latest “young adult” dialogue. On the drive from Minneapolis Mavis puts on a Teenage Fanclub tape, including her and Buddy’s song “The Concept,” which makes reference to the English “boogie band” Status Quo, whose number one UK hit in 1975 was “Down, Down.” At a bar Buddy’s wife sings “The Concept” with her band Nipple Confusion, sending Mavis into a jealous fit. After her inevitable comeuppance she goes back to Mini-Apple (as local wannabes still call the Twin city) sadder but wiser.
Saturday at Miller Pizza Joe Petras hosted the annual Men and Boys Holiday Benefit Brunch. Proceeds help maintain the Marquette Park playground. I sat with Tom Eaton, Ted Prettyman, and the Spicer brothers. Years ago, Prettyman ran for Miller Beach precinct committeeman against Dick Hagelberg and Mike Chirich and lost to Chirich by a single vote. Mike has remained in the post ever since. Purdue fan Jack Tonk and IU booster Matt Diltz were razzing each other, and George Rogge talked about getting all groups interested in the future of Miller Beach together. I invited Melvin Nelson, thinking Joe’s brother-in-law Jim Walton, on our bowling team years ago, would be there, but he was in Kentucky due to a family emergency. Joe announced that total donations in 21 years reached $5,000.
In an all-Indiana doubleheader Purdue lost to Butler on a last-second tip-in, while IU defeated Notre Dame in a grinder. Evening at the Hagelbergs featured southwestern chicken and two rounds of bridge.
Sunday I went two for four gaming, winning Acquire and Viking, then watched Seattle slaughter the Bears in another abysmal performance by their backup quarterback Caleb Hanie. If only they had Kyle Orton, cut from Denver earlier in the year, who led Kansas City to a win over previously unbeaten Green Bay. Dave and Angie teased me about going to Hawaii without them. I called Seattle Joe while listening to an Accept CD he had given me and talked about the awesome time ahead on the Big Island.
Monday I picked up macadamia nuts at Albanese in Merrillville and stopped at the Lake County Library. I gobbled up a rare copy of my Sports Shavings issue that was on sale for a quarter. A label on the inside of the front cover identified James Mulloy as the former owner.
Lunched at Gino’s with lawyer Tim Sendak, whose dad was Indiana attorney general for eight years. He provided me with great anecdotes about grandparents Jack and Annette, whom I will be writing about in “On Their Shoulders.” Annette was evidently a pool shark in London who paid for her fare to America from her winnings. When Jack wouldn’t buy her a car, she started a fur company and bought a Buick once she saved enough money of her own. At their summer place on the St. Joseph River, Tim recalled, Annette had a massive clock collection set at different times so that one chimed every few minutes. Apparently she didn’t like a quiet house. I ordered a delicious steak and portabella sandwich, half of which I took home.
Grandkids were in a school Christmas program. James played the xylophone and drums, and Rebecca sang with her fourth grade class. It was a mob scene getting in and out but fun seeing the kids shine.
Steelers-49ers contest in San Francisco was delayed due to a power outage (reminiscent of the 1989 earthquake during a Cubs-Giants playoff game), so I put on a Decembrists CD.
Time’s Person of the Year is The Protestor, a fine choice given Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street. Among its year-old RIP tributes are essays about actor Peter Falk (I loved “Columbo”) and “60 Minutes” commentator Andy Rooney, who was on the show 31 years, starting when he was 61. Like Walter Cronkite, he had been an ace World War II correspondent. His longevity reminded me of newsman Tom Cannon, who came to Gary in his 60s and commenced a new 30-year career highlighted by his “Flue Dust” column.
Republican officeholders, realizing that Newt would be a disastrous party standard bearer, are flocking to Mitt, who helped Letterman do the Top Ten list of things he’d like to say to the American people (number 9 was, “What’s up gangstas, it’s the M-i-double tizzle”). Newt’s 1994 Contract with America got him elected Speaker of the House, but his downfall was causing a government shutdown and impeaching Clinton for receiving a blow job when he was guilty of much greater moral lapses. Number 2 on Mitt’s list was, “Newt Gingrich, really?”
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Holiday Spirit
"Yeah I'm sorry, I can't afford a Ferrari,
But that don't mean I can't get you there.
I guess he's an Xbox and I'm more Atari,
But the way you play your game ain't fair.”
Cee-Lo Green
Tuesday I had lunch with cafeteria regular Alan Lindmark, about to retire but pledging to return occasionally. I got into a discussion with Jean Poulard, who admitted using a test question asking students to explain why JFK’s foreign policy was a fiasco. I argued that if Kennedy had taken the actions Poulard advocated in Cuba, Berlin, and Vietnam, it could easily have led to a nuclear war. Comparing him to Reagan, I concluded that while Kennedy used combative rhetoric at times due to political realities, his main accomplishment was to prevent the Cold War from escalating into war between the superpowers. In fact, after the 1962 missile crisis he took steps to move haltingly toward détente with Nikita Khrushchev.
A Ray Smock essay on the History Hews Network website entitled “Newt Gingrich the Galactic Historian” mentioned Newt’s fascination with Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation” trilogy and suggests that protagonist and psycho-historian Hari Seldon is his role model. The articles generated many responses, including this one that Ray particularly liked: “This article settles it, there is N.O.T.H.I.N.G. conservative about Newt Gingrich, he is just a power hungry totalitarian unprincipled fruitcake who will make life hell if elected just as sure as any 20th century communist or fascist dictator would.” I emailed Ray: “Thanks to you, I have spent hours on the HNN website, including perusing the considerable reaction to your piece. Michael Lowry said it well, calling Newt a pandering hypocrite who nonetheless has two useful political skills, the inability to feel shame and the ability to speak confidently even while uttering obvious falsehoods.”
I sent Vice Chancellor David Malik a proposal to fund Steel Shavings in return for my contributions to the Calumet Regional Archives. I wrote: “Since our conversation on making Steel Shavings magazine self-sustaining, I have been mulling over various options. The best course, I believe, would be to set up a fund within the Steel Shavings account to cover publications, travel, research, and special events. The cost, $11,000 (a sum equal to a single Summer Faculty Fellowship), would not only cover publication costs of future magazine issues (that’s where the lion’s share of the money would go) but allow for other activities associated with the Archives, including new outreach initiatives. In return for obtaining the funding, I would continue to serve as unpaid co-director of the Calumet Regional Archives, assisting researchers, collecting “treasures” (as Steve McShane refers to acquisitions), planning special events (such as bringing speakers to campus who have published books about the history of Northwest Indiana), and doing other useful tasks as befits my expertise as a regional historian. Since Steve McShane is the Steel Shavings account manager (21-601-72), he would oversee the expenditures, as could others in the chain of command, including the librarian and the campus chief financial officer. Even though I will be eligible next year to earn money for my services to the university, I believe this to be a better course than my requesting compensation for activities in connection with the magazine and the Archives. One way to proceed would be to allocate a one-time funding that would allow publication of volume 42 in the Steel Shavings series and then assess whether to include the item in future annual budgets. In addition, by not allocating the funds to me personally, the way is open for a successor to eventually become the editor of the magazine.”
Wearing to IUN’s Holiday Party an IUN polo shirt from when I worked the Porter County fair, I splashed much gravy on my turkey, mashed potatoes, and filling, had two cups of un-spiked egg nog, and chatted with retired professors Leroy Peterson and Mike Certa, among others. A deejay was blasted music at a volume that made conversation difficult, but I liked the selections and folks were line dancing. Immediately following “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came Cee-Lo Green’s “Forget You.” I listened closely when it came on to see whether it was the x-rated version. JoAnn Hurak, who used to work for Purchasing, hadn’t heard that they phased out her office in favor of a centralized, all campus system. Her granddaughter used to live across from us at Maple Place, and both dogs that used to bark all night when she wasn’t home have since died. She mentioned getting a phone call from her old boss Murray Taylor from a nursing home but he hung up before she could get his address or phone number.
DeeDee Ige and Vernon Smith want me to be on a committee to study how to enhance IUN’s image within the Gary community. I’m happy to oblige. There was a time years ago when the administration sought to downplay being in Gary, but that hasn’t been the case for some time. Maybe I can push having an event honoring Thelma Marshall and bringing in Gregg Andrews, the author of the Thyra J. Edwards book.
Watched my teammates win game one in bowling and then at home put on the end of the Maryland basketball game. They beat Florida International, coached by former IU star Isaiah Thomas. Then I switched to the Blackhawks, who won an overtime shootout with Minnesota thanks to their young duo of Toews and Kane.
On Facebook Sam Barnett wrote: “The paper of this student who always reeks of cigarettes reeks of cigarettes. This one is staying at work tonight. My clothes reek so much after bowling that I keep my jacket in the garage and immediately strip down and throw my clothes in the laundry room.
Niece Andrea has invited me to come to the Big Island of Hawaii for a week in early January while she, her husband, and son Joe are there. Tom Dietz is going with me. It should be great.
Among those honored at the Retirement Reception were Alan Lindmark in Chemistry, Ken Schoon in Education, and two longtime staff members and really good people whose positions were phased out, Jan Taylor in Printing Services and Marianne Malyj in Purchasing. Also Donald Young, one of my top ten favorite students is stepping down as a police officer. When I interviewed him for the History of IUN Shavings issue, he praised General Stusies director Bob Lovely, Communication professor DeeDee Ige, and Chief Andy Lazar for their faith in him. He had funny stories about being hazed by veteran officers and interrupting lovers at the outer edges of the parking lots. He was also the first bicycle patrol officer and a really nice fellow. I had intended to say a few remarks about Don, but the program was set up basically to have only one person per retiree speak (although jean Poulard, as usual, got up and went on about how he and Lindmark are best friends despite their political differences). The police lieutenant who talked about Don started with what he said was an Elizabeth Taylor quote to her husband: “I won’t keep you long.” I told Marianne afterwards that I still recall fondly her singing “Taking Care of Business” at pro-Business Division Chancellor Dan Orescanin’s retirement roast.
John Davies presided over the annual Legends induction at the Welcome Center that honored four Medal of Honor recipients, four Nobel Prize winners, and the Jacksons. On the program to explain the selection process and then to describe why the Jackson Five were worthy of being inducted, Steve McShane introduced me as the area’s preeminent historian. Nice. On hand was the widow of Emilio De La Garza, who died in Vietnam and the brother of another Medal of Honor winner Danny Bruce. IUN Business professor Steve Dunphy did a good job talking about the four Nobel Prize winners, including biochemist Ferid Murad, born in Whiting, whose work with nitric oxide led to the marketing of Viagra. Thanks to Harry Vande Velde, of the Legacy Foundation, an excellent book about the all the Legends on the Wall has been produced for fourth graders. I took home two of them for the grandkids to take to their school.
But that don't mean I can't get you there.
I guess he's an Xbox and I'm more Atari,
But the way you play your game ain't fair.”
Cee-Lo Green
Tuesday I had lunch with cafeteria regular Alan Lindmark, about to retire but pledging to return occasionally. I got into a discussion with Jean Poulard, who admitted using a test question asking students to explain why JFK’s foreign policy was a fiasco. I argued that if Kennedy had taken the actions Poulard advocated in Cuba, Berlin, and Vietnam, it could easily have led to a nuclear war. Comparing him to Reagan, I concluded that while Kennedy used combative rhetoric at times due to political realities, his main accomplishment was to prevent the Cold War from escalating into war between the superpowers. In fact, after the 1962 missile crisis he took steps to move haltingly toward détente with Nikita Khrushchev.
A Ray Smock essay on the History Hews Network website entitled “Newt Gingrich the Galactic Historian” mentioned Newt’s fascination with Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation” trilogy and suggests that protagonist and psycho-historian Hari Seldon is his role model. The articles generated many responses, including this one that Ray particularly liked: “This article settles it, there is N.O.T.H.I.N.G. conservative about Newt Gingrich, he is just a power hungry totalitarian unprincipled fruitcake who will make life hell if elected just as sure as any 20th century communist or fascist dictator would.” I emailed Ray: “Thanks to you, I have spent hours on the HNN website, including perusing the considerable reaction to your piece. Michael Lowry said it well, calling Newt a pandering hypocrite who nonetheless has two useful political skills, the inability to feel shame and the ability to speak confidently even while uttering obvious falsehoods.”
I sent Vice Chancellor David Malik a proposal to fund Steel Shavings in return for my contributions to the Calumet Regional Archives. I wrote: “Since our conversation on making Steel Shavings magazine self-sustaining, I have been mulling over various options. The best course, I believe, would be to set up a fund within the Steel Shavings account to cover publications, travel, research, and special events. The cost, $11,000 (a sum equal to a single Summer Faculty Fellowship), would not only cover publication costs of future magazine issues (that’s where the lion’s share of the money would go) but allow for other activities associated with the Archives, including new outreach initiatives. In return for obtaining the funding, I would continue to serve as unpaid co-director of the Calumet Regional Archives, assisting researchers, collecting “treasures” (as Steve McShane refers to acquisitions), planning special events (such as bringing speakers to campus who have published books about the history of Northwest Indiana), and doing other useful tasks as befits my expertise as a regional historian. Since Steve McShane is the Steel Shavings account manager (21-601-72), he would oversee the expenditures, as could others in the chain of command, including the librarian and the campus chief financial officer. Even though I will be eligible next year to earn money for my services to the university, I believe this to be a better course than my requesting compensation for activities in connection with the magazine and the Archives. One way to proceed would be to allocate a one-time funding that would allow publication of volume 42 in the Steel Shavings series and then assess whether to include the item in future annual budgets. In addition, by not allocating the funds to me personally, the way is open for a successor to eventually become the editor of the magazine.”
Wearing to IUN’s Holiday Party an IUN polo shirt from when I worked the Porter County fair, I splashed much gravy on my turkey, mashed potatoes, and filling, had two cups of un-spiked egg nog, and chatted with retired professors Leroy Peterson and Mike Certa, among others. A deejay was blasted music at a volume that made conversation difficult, but I liked the selections and folks were line dancing. Immediately following “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came Cee-Lo Green’s “Forget You.” I listened closely when it came on to see whether it was the x-rated version. JoAnn Hurak, who used to work for Purchasing, hadn’t heard that they phased out her office in favor of a centralized, all campus system. Her granddaughter used to live across from us at Maple Place, and both dogs that used to bark all night when she wasn’t home have since died. She mentioned getting a phone call from her old boss Murray Taylor from a nursing home but he hung up before she could get his address or phone number.
DeeDee Ige and Vernon Smith want me to be on a committee to study how to enhance IUN’s image within the Gary community. I’m happy to oblige. There was a time years ago when the administration sought to downplay being in Gary, but that hasn’t been the case for some time. Maybe I can push having an event honoring Thelma Marshall and bringing in Gregg Andrews, the author of the Thyra J. Edwards book.
Watched my teammates win game one in bowling and then at home put on the end of the Maryland basketball game. They beat Florida International, coached by former IU star Isaiah Thomas. Then I switched to the Blackhawks, who won an overtime shootout with Minnesota thanks to their young duo of Toews and Kane.
On Facebook Sam Barnett wrote: “The paper of this student who always reeks of cigarettes reeks of cigarettes. This one is staying at work tonight. My clothes reek so much after bowling that I keep my jacket in the garage and immediately strip down and throw my clothes in the laundry room.
Niece Andrea has invited me to come to the Big Island of Hawaii for a week in early January while she, her husband, and son Joe are there. Tom Dietz is going with me. It should be great.
Among those honored at the Retirement Reception were Alan Lindmark in Chemistry, Ken Schoon in Education, and two longtime staff members and really good people whose positions were phased out, Jan Taylor in Printing Services and Marianne Malyj in Purchasing. Also Donald Young, one of my top ten favorite students is stepping down as a police officer. When I interviewed him for the History of IUN Shavings issue, he praised General Stusies director Bob Lovely, Communication professor DeeDee Ige, and Chief Andy Lazar for their faith in him. He had funny stories about being hazed by veteran officers and interrupting lovers at the outer edges of the parking lots. He was also the first bicycle patrol officer and a really nice fellow. I had intended to say a few remarks about Don, but the program was set up basically to have only one person per retiree speak (although jean Poulard, as usual, got up and went on about how he and Lindmark are best friends despite their political differences). The police lieutenant who talked about Don started with what he said was an Elizabeth Taylor quote to her husband: “I won’t keep you long.” I told Marianne afterwards that I still recall fondly her singing “Taking Care of Business” at pro-Business Division Chancellor Dan Orescanin’s retirement roast.
John Davies presided over the annual Legends induction at the Welcome Center that honored four Medal of Honor recipients, four Nobel Prize winners, and the Jacksons. On the program to explain the selection process and then to describe why the Jackson Five were worthy of being inducted, Steve McShane introduced me as the area’s preeminent historian. Nice. On hand was the widow of Emilio De La Garza, who died in Vietnam and the brother of another Medal of Honor winner Danny Bruce. IUN Business professor Steve Dunphy did a good job talking about the four Nobel Prize winners, including biochemist Ferid Murad, born in Whiting, whose work with nitric oxide led to the marketing of Viagra. Thanks to Harry Vande Velde, of the Legacy Foundation, an excellent book about the all the Legends on the Wall has been produced for fourth graders. I took home two of them for the grandkids to take to their school.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Buzzer Beater
“We will fight for the cream and crimson
For the glory of old IU.”
“Indiana, Our Indiana”
The Education Division hd a retirement reception for Ken Schoon last Friday. Stanley Wigle and Paul Blohm got off some witticisms at his expense. When Mark Reshkin’s turn came, he quipped that he hadn’t realized the program was to be a roast. Ken was one of Mark’s first associate professors in the Geology department and taught in the East Chicago public school system for years before taking a full-time position at IUN. Elaine Morrow mentioned Ken’s loving relationship with wife Peg. In fact, he often comes to the Archives when Peg is working there to have lunch with her. The author of “Calumet Beginnings,” he has a new book called “City Trees” and is working on one about the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. On hand were Save the Dunes bigwigs Herb and Charlotte Read. Last Thursday the National Register of Historic Places listed their house, scheduled for demolition and vacant since September 2010, as “historically significant for its association with the efforts of citizen conservation groups to preserve the Indiana Dunes and create the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.” It remains to be seen whether the Lakeshore Superintendent Constantine Dillon will agree to save it and put it to use.
Saturday grandkids James and Rebecca performed with the Southlake Children’s Choir in a holiday presentation at Bethel Church in Merrillville. The group sang songs in several languages, and even the youngest kids appeared to know all the words.
IU’s basketball team upset the number one ranked Kentucky Wildcats 73-72 on a last-second three-pointer by Christian Watford. Kentucky had made easy layups the last few times down the court, so the Hoosiers were fortunate no time was left of the clock. The team has been bad for the past five years, and fans mobbed the players after the buzzer went off. Loudmouth announcer Dick Vitale kept saying Assembly Hall should be renamed in honor of Bobby Knight, whom he refers to as “The General” or Robert Montgomery Knight. Let’s hope not. As good of a coach as Knight was at one time, he was a pretty despicable human being. Vitale’s sidekick mentioned that those at the game will remember the scene the rest of their lives – probably not an exaggeration. Phil still recalls the campus celebrations his freshman year after IU won the 1987 NCAA tournament.
Saturday evening Nancy and Ron Cohen stopped over on the way to Fred and Tracy Traut’s annual holiday party. I had a very good time talking to the regulars and meeting some new interesting people – plus the food was delicious. Formerly in the Women’s Studies program, Tracy is planning to return to IUN for a master’s degree in psychology.
I won two of three games and should have triumphed in Acquire but Dave beat me by buying up more of the Imperial stocks. Tom Wade and I talked about the IU game on the way over to Dave’s, as well as the Romney’s latest Republican debate gaffe. He offered to make a $10,000 bet with Perry that his book “No Apology” didn’t contain an endorsement of universal health care. Critics are saying that the remark shows Romney is out of touch with common people. Republican strategist Mary Matalin called it “one more heavy brick in Romney’s backpack.” The main two things Romney had going for him was so-called electability and being a good debater, but Newt Gingrich appears to have stolen his thunder on both counts.
In Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas,” based on the 1954 movie of that name, the actor playing former private Bob Wallace at Valpo’s Memorial Opera House sounded quite a bit like Bing Crosby. One of the dancers had a daffy blond wig that others made fun of but that I thought quite sexy, given her sleek body and comely face. All nine performances were sold out, and the costumes, designed by Tracy Traut’s mother Martha Sass, were very elaborate. After the show six of us had dinner at a place on Lincolnway called 157 (its address), followed by coffee, tea, and goodies baked by Nancy back at our place. The Hagelbergs filled us in on the previous evening’s sing-a-long at Lake Street Gallery (sorry I missed Joyce’s chili). Today we missed Tanice Foltz’s cookie party. Tis the season of mucho social activities.
Learned that Bears lost 13-10 to the Broncos on two costly mistakes by running back Marion Barber. Glad I wasn’t watching the latest “Tim Tebow miracle.” As Jonathyne Briggs quipped, Jesus must hate Marion Barber, who went out of bounds, giving Denver enough time to tie the score, and who then fumbled when Chicago was in field goal range.
Not surprisingly, the season finale of “Boardwalk Empire” was bloody, with Nucky offing Jimmy and marrying Margaret Schroeder to avoid being convicted of murdering her abusive husband. At the end he is expecting to become rich from property holdings as a result of getting authorization of a highway to Atlantic City. When Nucky thought he was in legal trouble he deeded the property over to Margaret, who, in the final scene, donates it to the Catholic Church. After her daughter contracted polio, she saw it as a sign of God’s punishment for her sins and fell under the sway of sinister Father Brennan.
Terry Jenkins passed along a joke about two old friends at a bar. One pointed to a couple geezers across from them and said, “That’s us in ten years.” His buddy replied, “That’s a mirror, you dip-shit.” When we used to take Alissa places, I’d often point to an aged codger and say, “Who do you think is older, him or me?” Now the answer is likely to be me.
With my successful picks of Philadelphia, Denver, and Houston, I finished third in the weekly football pool, a point out of the money and three points behind three-time winner Kevin Horn. I’d have won had I selected the Giants over Dallas (my first inclination) or gone with my gut and had Arizona beating San Francisco.
For the glory of old IU.”
“Indiana, Our Indiana”
The Education Division hd a retirement reception for Ken Schoon last Friday. Stanley Wigle and Paul Blohm got off some witticisms at his expense. When Mark Reshkin’s turn came, he quipped that he hadn’t realized the program was to be a roast. Ken was one of Mark’s first associate professors in the Geology department and taught in the East Chicago public school system for years before taking a full-time position at IUN. Elaine Morrow mentioned Ken’s loving relationship with wife Peg. In fact, he often comes to the Archives when Peg is working there to have lunch with her. The author of “Calumet Beginnings,” he has a new book called “City Trees” and is working on one about the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. On hand were Save the Dunes bigwigs Herb and Charlotte Read. Last Thursday the National Register of Historic Places listed their house, scheduled for demolition and vacant since September 2010, as “historically significant for its association with the efforts of citizen conservation groups to preserve the Indiana Dunes and create the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.” It remains to be seen whether the Lakeshore Superintendent Constantine Dillon will agree to save it and put it to use.
Saturday grandkids James and Rebecca performed with the Southlake Children’s Choir in a holiday presentation at Bethel Church in Merrillville. The group sang songs in several languages, and even the youngest kids appeared to know all the words.
IU’s basketball team upset the number one ranked Kentucky Wildcats 73-72 on a last-second three-pointer by Christian Watford. Kentucky had made easy layups the last few times down the court, so the Hoosiers were fortunate no time was left of the clock. The team has been bad for the past five years, and fans mobbed the players after the buzzer went off. Loudmouth announcer Dick Vitale kept saying Assembly Hall should be renamed in honor of Bobby Knight, whom he refers to as “The General” or Robert Montgomery Knight. Let’s hope not. As good of a coach as Knight was at one time, he was a pretty despicable human being. Vitale’s sidekick mentioned that those at the game will remember the scene the rest of their lives – probably not an exaggeration. Phil still recalls the campus celebrations his freshman year after IU won the 1987 NCAA tournament.
Saturday evening Nancy and Ron Cohen stopped over on the way to Fred and Tracy Traut’s annual holiday party. I had a very good time talking to the regulars and meeting some new interesting people – plus the food was delicious. Formerly in the Women’s Studies program, Tracy is planning to return to IUN for a master’s degree in psychology.
I won two of three games and should have triumphed in Acquire but Dave beat me by buying up more of the Imperial stocks. Tom Wade and I talked about the IU game on the way over to Dave’s, as well as the Romney’s latest Republican debate gaffe. He offered to make a $10,000 bet with Perry that his book “No Apology” didn’t contain an endorsement of universal health care. Critics are saying that the remark shows Romney is out of touch with common people. Republican strategist Mary Matalin called it “one more heavy brick in Romney’s backpack.” The main two things Romney had going for him was so-called electability and being a good debater, but Newt Gingrich appears to have stolen his thunder on both counts.
In Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas,” based on the 1954 movie of that name, the actor playing former private Bob Wallace at Valpo’s Memorial Opera House sounded quite a bit like Bing Crosby. One of the dancers had a daffy blond wig that others made fun of but that I thought quite sexy, given her sleek body and comely face. All nine performances were sold out, and the costumes, designed by Tracy Traut’s mother Martha Sass, were very elaborate. After the show six of us had dinner at a place on Lincolnway called 157 (its address), followed by coffee, tea, and goodies baked by Nancy back at our place. The Hagelbergs filled us in on the previous evening’s sing-a-long at Lake Street Gallery (sorry I missed Joyce’s chili). Today we missed Tanice Foltz’s cookie party. Tis the season of mucho social activities.
Learned that Bears lost 13-10 to the Broncos on two costly mistakes by running back Marion Barber. Glad I wasn’t watching the latest “Tim Tebow miracle.” As Jonathyne Briggs quipped, Jesus must hate Marion Barber, who went out of bounds, giving Denver enough time to tie the score, and who then fumbled when Chicago was in field goal range.
Not surprisingly, the season finale of “Boardwalk Empire” was bloody, with Nucky offing Jimmy and marrying Margaret Schroeder to avoid being convicted of murdering her abusive husband. At the end he is expecting to become rich from property holdings as a result of getting authorization of a highway to Atlantic City. When Nucky thought he was in legal trouble he deeded the property over to Margaret, who, in the final scene, donates it to the Catholic Church. After her daughter contracted polio, she saw it as a sign of God’s punishment for her sins and fell under the sway of sinister Father Brennan.
Terry Jenkins passed along a joke about two old friends at a bar. One pointed to a couple geezers across from them and said, “That’s us in ten years.” His buddy replied, “That’s a mirror, you dip-shit.” When we used to take Alissa places, I’d often point to an aged codger and say, “Who do you think is older, him or me?” Now the answer is likely to be me.
With my successful picks of Philadelphia, Denver, and Houston, I finished third in the weekly football pool, a point out of the money and three points behind three-time winner Kevin Horn. I’d have won had I selected the Giants over Dallas (my first inclination) or gone with my gut and had Arizona beating San Francisco.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Making Ammo
“I turn the music up, I got my records on
I shut the world outside until the lights come on.”
Coldplay, “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall”
The Indiana Magazine of History asked me to assess an article about discrimination against African American women from Gary who applied to work at the Kingsbury Ordnance plant in La Porte County during World War II. With revisions, it should be a first-rate piece. Making ammo was dangerous work, but the pay made it attractive to women whose opportunities heretofore had been very limited.
I picked up three packages of Opatki wafers at Nativity catholic church in Portage for Christmas Eve dinner. Toni sends one to her sister in Florida who can’t find them in Punta Gorda. At Best Buy for Christmas presents I purchased CDs by Wilco, Destroyed, Pink Floyd and Coldplay – two Chicago bands and two British groups.
Newt Gingrich appears to be bent on self-destruction to judge by some of the idiocies coming out of his mouth. I guess the man can’t help himself. His ad claiming he’s the one to unify America reminds me of Nixon drivel 40 years ago. Romney ads stress that he’s a one-woman guy, leaving unsaid that Newt is on his third wife. Newt seems to think the normal rules of the political game do not apply to him.
The Post-Trib’s front page Pearl Harbor story yesterday was of vets’ ashes being returned to the sunken battleships Arizona and Utah. Not many guys left; the ranks get thinner with each passing year. The anniversary of the death of John Lennon gets more airtime as memories of WW II fade.
I spent lots of time examining Gary city directories tracing Joseph Stiglitz and Paul Samuelson’s parents. According to sisters-in-law Judy and Anita, Ella, Samuelson’s mom, opened a restaurant called The Barbeque. It turned out to be in Chicago. Earlier she tried to make a go of a style shop in Gary’s immigrant ward, but it failed for lack of customers. Ella’s husband Frank was a druggist and a dreamer. The historian Robert Sobel wrote that he “was a moderate socialist and a middle class businessman, which was not a contradiction in that period.”
TRACES magazine sent me a copy of my Carlton Hatcher article to proofread. It will appear in the next issue. I couldn’t find my favorite paragraph, which I added after first submitting the piece, about Carlton helping a family of ten move from Iowa to Michigan City in 1926 in an old Hudson. With bags and boxes tied to the roof and fenders, two flat tires, several wrong turns, and numerous pit stops, the return trip took 24 hours. Hopefully there will be room for it.
Led by John Bulot, my bowling team won all 7 points against The Big Hurt. The rest of us had one good game each. Fortunately our opponents left a ton on ten-pins and, in the case of their two lefties, seven-pins. So it was more a case of their under-performing than we putting a big hurt on them. John pointed out an announcement on the bulletin board that Lisa Anserelli has the women’s high series for the year. “Jim Fowble was her teacher,” he said, referring to the owner of Cressmoor Lanes. Years ago, my league bowled on eight lanes and some of the best women in the Region on the other eight. I used to observe Lisa, who had beautiful form. Next to us a guy in a Cozumel shirt was saying “Way to go, Jimmy” whenever a teammate got a strike. After his strikes, Jimmy would do a little dance similar to someone shadow boxing.
Judge James Zagel sentenced former Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich to 14 years in the slammer. The only egregious thing he was guilty of was being arrogant and full of hot air. The “crimes” were picayune compared to Dick Cheney, who profited from his clout to the tune of tens of millions. Letterman had some fun at his expense, saying his hair stylist should have gotten the death sentence and that Michael Jackson’s doctor-murderer got ten fewer years. Echoing the defense of slimeball accused child molester Jerry Sandusky, David claimed that in his plea to the judge, Rod said he really was not trying to get money for Obama’s vacated Senate seat, he was just horsing around. His Top Ten list of messages left on Blago’s phone included a future cellmate asking whether he preferred top or bottom and the warden wondering, “How much for your seat?” The implication was that pretty boy Blagojevich was in for unwanted some same sex experiences.
Went to the Northwest Indiana Symphony Orchestra’s seventieth anniversary holiday celebration with Cheryl Hagelberg, whose husband Dick was in the chorus. In past years the late Communication professor Jim Tolhuizen was in the chorus as well. The orchestra is a successor to the Gary Civic Orchestra, which gave its debut concert hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, prompting conductor Arnold Zack to open with the “Star-Spangled Banner.” Perhaps for that reason current conductor and musical director Kirk Muspratt had “Battle Hymn of the Republic” on the program. The best number was an African song from the Congo that involved orchestra members stomping their feet and clapping. For one number youngsters from Protsman Elementary School in Dyer were featured in a number and were excellent. They got a standing ovation from folks who in all likelihood were their parents and relatives. We were in the fifth row in the mezzanine. Behind us were two kids. The girl was well behaved, but the boy was protesting loudly at his confinement. Out he went with a parent shortly into the show. After intermission they tried again with him but had to take him out minutes later.
On Gaard Murphy Logan’s recommendation I started a book, “Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog),” written by an Englishman, Jerome K. Jerome over 120 years ago. It made her laugh out loud, she said, and I can see why. It’s quite charming and clever, and the quaint language (i.e., turning leaves, meaning pages) enhances rather than detracts from the enjoyment. The narrator mentions coming across an ad for liver pills that will cure everything from ague to zymosis and after reading the symptoms of each, imagined he had every ailment except housemaid’s knee.
I shut the world outside until the lights come on.”
Coldplay, “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall”
The Indiana Magazine of History asked me to assess an article about discrimination against African American women from Gary who applied to work at the Kingsbury Ordnance plant in La Porte County during World War II. With revisions, it should be a first-rate piece. Making ammo was dangerous work, but the pay made it attractive to women whose opportunities heretofore had been very limited.
I picked up three packages of Opatki wafers at Nativity catholic church in Portage for Christmas Eve dinner. Toni sends one to her sister in Florida who can’t find them in Punta Gorda. At Best Buy for Christmas presents I purchased CDs by Wilco, Destroyed, Pink Floyd and Coldplay – two Chicago bands and two British groups.
Newt Gingrich appears to be bent on self-destruction to judge by some of the idiocies coming out of his mouth. I guess the man can’t help himself. His ad claiming he’s the one to unify America reminds me of Nixon drivel 40 years ago. Romney ads stress that he’s a one-woman guy, leaving unsaid that Newt is on his third wife. Newt seems to think the normal rules of the political game do not apply to him.
The Post-Trib’s front page Pearl Harbor story yesterday was of vets’ ashes being returned to the sunken battleships Arizona and Utah. Not many guys left; the ranks get thinner with each passing year. The anniversary of the death of John Lennon gets more airtime as memories of WW II fade.
I spent lots of time examining Gary city directories tracing Joseph Stiglitz and Paul Samuelson’s parents. According to sisters-in-law Judy and Anita, Ella, Samuelson’s mom, opened a restaurant called The Barbeque. It turned out to be in Chicago. Earlier she tried to make a go of a style shop in Gary’s immigrant ward, but it failed for lack of customers. Ella’s husband Frank was a druggist and a dreamer. The historian Robert Sobel wrote that he “was a moderate socialist and a middle class businessman, which was not a contradiction in that period.”
TRACES magazine sent me a copy of my Carlton Hatcher article to proofread. It will appear in the next issue. I couldn’t find my favorite paragraph, which I added after first submitting the piece, about Carlton helping a family of ten move from Iowa to Michigan City in 1926 in an old Hudson. With bags and boxes tied to the roof and fenders, two flat tires, several wrong turns, and numerous pit stops, the return trip took 24 hours. Hopefully there will be room for it.
Led by John Bulot, my bowling team won all 7 points against The Big Hurt. The rest of us had one good game each. Fortunately our opponents left a ton on ten-pins and, in the case of their two lefties, seven-pins. So it was more a case of their under-performing than we putting a big hurt on them. John pointed out an announcement on the bulletin board that Lisa Anserelli has the women’s high series for the year. “Jim Fowble was her teacher,” he said, referring to the owner of Cressmoor Lanes. Years ago, my league bowled on eight lanes and some of the best women in the Region on the other eight. I used to observe Lisa, who had beautiful form. Next to us a guy in a Cozumel shirt was saying “Way to go, Jimmy” whenever a teammate got a strike. After his strikes, Jimmy would do a little dance similar to someone shadow boxing.
Judge James Zagel sentenced former Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich to 14 years in the slammer. The only egregious thing he was guilty of was being arrogant and full of hot air. The “crimes” were picayune compared to Dick Cheney, who profited from his clout to the tune of tens of millions. Letterman had some fun at his expense, saying his hair stylist should have gotten the death sentence and that Michael Jackson’s doctor-murderer got ten fewer years. Echoing the defense of slimeball accused child molester Jerry Sandusky, David claimed that in his plea to the judge, Rod said he really was not trying to get money for Obama’s vacated Senate seat, he was just horsing around. His Top Ten list of messages left on Blago’s phone included a future cellmate asking whether he preferred top or bottom and the warden wondering, “How much for your seat?” The implication was that pretty boy Blagojevich was in for unwanted some same sex experiences.
Went to the Northwest Indiana Symphony Orchestra’s seventieth anniversary holiday celebration with Cheryl Hagelberg, whose husband Dick was in the chorus. In past years the late Communication professor Jim Tolhuizen was in the chorus as well. The orchestra is a successor to the Gary Civic Orchestra, which gave its debut concert hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, prompting conductor Arnold Zack to open with the “Star-Spangled Banner.” Perhaps for that reason current conductor and musical director Kirk Muspratt had “Battle Hymn of the Republic” on the program. The best number was an African song from the Congo that involved orchestra members stomping their feet and clapping. For one number youngsters from Protsman Elementary School in Dyer were featured in a number and were excellent. They got a standing ovation from folks who in all likelihood were their parents and relatives. We were in the fifth row in the mezzanine. Behind us were two kids. The girl was well behaved, but the boy was protesting loudly at his confinement. Out he went with a parent shortly into the show. After intermission they tried again with him but had to take him out minutes later.
On Gaard Murphy Logan’s recommendation I started a book, “Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog),” written by an Englishman, Jerome K. Jerome over 120 years ago. It made her laugh out loud, she said, and I can see why. It’s quite charming and clever, and the quaint language (i.e., turning leaves, meaning pages) enhances rather than detracts from the enjoyment. The narrator mentions coming across an ad for liver pills that will cure everything from ague to zymosis and after reading the symptoms of each, imagined he had every ailment except housemaid’s knee.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Wedding
“You may say I’m a dreamer,
But I’m not the only one.”
John Lennon
I have been corresponding with economist Paul Samuelson’s sister-in-law about his parents as well as an intern at Duke University’s manuscript library, where his papers are. Frank, his father, moved to Gary in 1911 when the owner of Economical Drug Store wanted to go to medical school in Chicago. So they traded positions. Dr. Antonio Giorgi, whom I wrote about in “Gary’s First Hundred years,” had an office above the pharmacy, became good friends with him, and sent patients downstairs to have their prescriptions filled. In 1915 he delivered Paul, Frank and Ella’s second son, in his office and expressed the wish that he be named Antonio. The parents settled on the name of Giorgi’s son Paul and chose Anthony as the middle name in honor of the physician. Later when he obtained his birth certificate, Samuelson discovered that Giorgi had put down Antonio, not Anthony, as his middle name. The pharmacy flourished during the war years but encountered financial difficulties during the early 1920s. In 1923 there were more than two dozen drugstores in Gary, including several within eyesight of the Economical Drug Store
I saw “J. Edgar” starring Matt Damon as the racist FBI director (in FDR’s opinion, one of the two most dangerous people in the county during the 1930s and beyond, along with General Douglas MacArthur. Some of the scenes seemed contrived and inaccurate, in particular a depiction of the so-called 1919 Centralia Massacre that took place on Armistice Day. Wesley Everest fired on WW I vets only after they took a detour from and parade route and attacked Wobbly headquarters, while the film portrayed Wobbly “terrorists” shooting the vets as they were marching along the parade route. Everest was seized from jail and lynched, but Hoover never was concerned about radicals or blacks being lynched. In the film Hoover learns about JFK’s death while listening to a tape of Martin Luther King having sex in a motel room and supposedly informs brother Bobby about it in a single sentence and then hangs up on him. Concerning Hoover’s alleged homosexual relationship, in the movie second-in-command Clyde Tolson attacks J. Edgar when the latter says he’s thinking about getting married and then gives him a kiss on his bloody mouth. Judi Dench gives a chilling performance as Hoover’s controlling mother, and director Clint Eastwood is judicious in not turning Hoover into a mere caricature. Rather than a moral paragon, as Hoover sought to be remembered, he was a megalomaniac totally bent on advancing his power and image. Two things would seem contrived if not for the fact that they were true – Hoover never forgiving Melvin Purvis for catching bank robber John Dillinger and his loving the horse races because the track owners didn’t make him pay if he lost.
Knowing I am a Redskin fan, Ron Cohen gave me a “NY Review of Books” article on Thomas G. Smith’s “Showdown: JFK and the Integration of the Washington Redskins.” Owner George Marshall, who moved the team from Boston in 1937, was a notorious racist who had one part-Indian coach dress up in war paint and feathers for home games and commissioned a fight song that contained the line, “Scalp ’um, swamp ’um, we will take ’um big score.” JFK’s Interior Secretary Stewart Udall forced Marshall to integrate his team as a condition of using a new stadium built on federal land.
Herman Cain finally bowed out of the Presidential race by using a quote taken from a Donna Summers song, “The Power of One,” used in the 2000 “Pokemon” movie, to wit: “"Life can be a challenge, life can seem impossible, it's never easy when there is so much on the line. But you and I can make a difference.” Writing “No wonder he said he was a leader not a reader,” Ray Smock compared the statement to Newt Gingrich’s admiration for the Power Rangers, adding: “I don’t give a hoot about his affairs with women as long as they were consensual. The man was dumb as a post. The fact that people thought him inspiring and even smart makes me fear for the nation’s sanity. Thank God Pokémon, Power Rangers, computer games, or even movies were not around when Abe Lincoln was learning by candlelight.”
I traveled to Elkhart Saturday for former student Shannon Pontney’s wedding. The invitation had Jimi Hendricks on the cover and included musings by John Lennon. My first and best supplemental instructor and a big Voodoo Chili fan, she looked dazzling. The unique ceremony featured second district Congressman Joe Donnelly marrying her and Hodge (who works for him). They wrote their vows themselves and did a great first dance routine. Shannon used to work in Admissions, and several IUN personnel were at our table, as well as two artists, including Julian Alcantar, a talented “abstract evolutionist” who showed me some of his work on his IPhone. Most tables were named for rock stars like David Bowie and Steve Winwood, but ours was the Frida Kahlo table, named for the brilliant Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, a bisexual communist who was married to muralist Diego Rivera. The head table was named for Shannon’s dad Rich, who died a few months ago after a fall at work. I talked to Congressman Donnelly about his intention to run for the Senate in 2012 against either Senator Richard Lugar or his wingnut Tea Party challenger Richard Mourdock. He is friends with Sheriff Dominguez and was pleased to hear about his autobiography “Valor.”
Tom Wade won a trio of board games Sunday before I triumphed in Dominion, using a simple but remarkably effective strategy. Bears totally sucked in succumbing to the lowly Chiefs, 10-3, surrendering a Hail Mary TD on the final play of the first half. The game was utterly without any redeeming merit, as disgusting as poorly made porn.
A woman called to ask if I could tell her the name of a life insurance company on the northeast corner of Fifth and Broadway during the Fifties. Using a Gary City Directory I found the names of three on the second floor of the Marshall House Building at 21 East Fifth: American States Insurance, Bankers Life and Casualty, and the Thomas C Stimple Agency. She’s looking to locate a missing policy, and I wished her luck.
But I’m not the only one.”
John Lennon
I have been corresponding with economist Paul Samuelson’s sister-in-law about his parents as well as an intern at Duke University’s manuscript library, where his papers are. Frank, his father, moved to Gary in 1911 when the owner of Economical Drug Store wanted to go to medical school in Chicago. So they traded positions. Dr. Antonio Giorgi, whom I wrote about in “Gary’s First Hundred years,” had an office above the pharmacy, became good friends with him, and sent patients downstairs to have their prescriptions filled. In 1915 he delivered Paul, Frank and Ella’s second son, in his office and expressed the wish that he be named Antonio. The parents settled on the name of Giorgi’s son Paul and chose Anthony as the middle name in honor of the physician. Later when he obtained his birth certificate, Samuelson discovered that Giorgi had put down Antonio, not Anthony, as his middle name. The pharmacy flourished during the war years but encountered financial difficulties during the early 1920s. In 1923 there were more than two dozen drugstores in Gary, including several within eyesight of the Economical Drug Store
I saw “J. Edgar” starring Matt Damon as the racist FBI director (in FDR’s opinion, one of the two most dangerous people in the county during the 1930s and beyond, along with General Douglas MacArthur. Some of the scenes seemed contrived and inaccurate, in particular a depiction of the so-called 1919 Centralia Massacre that took place on Armistice Day. Wesley Everest fired on WW I vets only after they took a detour from and parade route and attacked Wobbly headquarters, while the film portrayed Wobbly “terrorists” shooting the vets as they were marching along the parade route. Everest was seized from jail and lynched, but Hoover never was concerned about radicals or blacks being lynched. In the film Hoover learns about JFK’s death while listening to a tape of Martin Luther King having sex in a motel room and supposedly informs brother Bobby about it in a single sentence and then hangs up on him. Concerning Hoover’s alleged homosexual relationship, in the movie second-in-command Clyde Tolson attacks J. Edgar when the latter says he’s thinking about getting married and then gives him a kiss on his bloody mouth. Judi Dench gives a chilling performance as Hoover’s controlling mother, and director Clint Eastwood is judicious in not turning Hoover into a mere caricature. Rather than a moral paragon, as Hoover sought to be remembered, he was a megalomaniac totally bent on advancing his power and image. Two things would seem contrived if not for the fact that they were true – Hoover never forgiving Melvin Purvis for catching bank robber John Dillinger and his loving the horse races because the track owners didn’t make him pay if he lost.
Knowing I am a Redskin fan, Ron Cohen gave me a “NY Review of Books” article on Thomas G. Smith’s “Showdown: JFK and the Integration of the Washington Redskins.” Owner George Marshall, who moved the team from Boston in 1937, was a notorious racist who had one part-Indian coach dress up in war paint and feathers for home games and commissioned a fight song that contained the line, “Scalp ’um, swamp ’um, we will take ’um big score.” JFK’s Interior Secretary Stewart Udall forced Marshall to integrate his team as a condition of using a new stadium built on federal land.
Herman Cain finally bowed out of the Presidential race by using a quote taken from a Donna Summers song, “The Power of One,” used in the 2000 “Pokemon” movie, to wit: “"Life can be a challenge, life can seem impossible, it's never easy when there is so much on the line. But you and I can make a difference.” Writing “No wonder he said he was a leader not a reader,” Ray Smock compared the statement to Newt Gingrich’s admiration for the Power Rangers, adding: “I don’t give a hoot about his affairs with women as long as they were consensual. The man was dumb as a post. The fact that people thought him inspiring and even smart makes me fear for the nation’s sanity. Thank God Pokémon, Power Rangers, computer games, or even movies were not around when Abe Lincoln was learning by candlelight.”
I traveled to Elkhart Saturday for former student Shannon Pontney’s wedding. The invitation had Jimi Hendricks on the cover and included musings by John Lennon. My first and best supplemental instructor and a big Voodoo Chili fan, she looked dazzling. The unique ceremony featured second district Congressman Joe Donnelly marrying her and Hodge (who works for him). They wrote their vows themselves and did a great first dance routine. Shannon used to work in Admissions, and several IUN personnel were at our table, as well as two artists, including Julian Alcantar, a talented “abstract evolutionist” who showed me some of his work on his IPhone. Most tables were named for rock stars like David Bowie and Steve Winwood, but ours was the Frida Kahlo table, named for the brilliant Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, a bisexual communist who was married to muralist Diego Rivera. The head table was named for Shannon’s dad Rich, who died a few months ago after a fall at work. I talked to Congressman Donnelly about his intention to run for the Senate in 2012 against either Senator Richard Lugar or his wingnut Tea Party challenger Richard Mourdock. He is friends with Sheriff Dominguez and was pleased to hear about his autobiography “Valor.”
Tom Wade won a trio of board games Sunday before I triumphed in Dominion, using a simple but remarkably effective strategy. Bears totally sucked in succumbing to the lowly Chiefs, 10-3, surrendering a Hail Mary TD on the final play of the first half. The game was utterly without any redeeming merit, as disgusting as poorly made porn.
A woman called to ask if I could tell her the name of a life insurance company on the northeast corner of Fifth and Broadway during the Fifties. Using a Gary City Directory I found the names of three on the second floor of the Marshall House Building at 21 East Fifth: American States Insurance, Bankers Life and Casualty, and the Thomas C Stimple Agency. She’s looking to locate a missing policy, and I wished her luck.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Luncheon
“So-so’s how I’m doing if you’re wondering
I’m in a fight with the world but I’m winning.”
Avril Lavigne
At Wednesday’s emeritus faculty luncheon Chancellor Lowe mentioned that he’s been reading my blog entries in the latest Shavings magazine “Calumet Region Connections” and was impressed with my knowledge of rock music. Volume 41 is in part a chronicle of IU Northwest during his first year at the helm, and he is listed in the index 14 times. Becoming very polished with ceremonial duties, he seems interested in supporting student activities and expanding the number of faculty. In attendance were three retirees who attended IUN as students – Angie Komenich, Mike Certa, and John Ban. Former acting chancellor Lloyd Rowe, who got smoking banned on campus and approved 9 new Arts and Sciences positions during his brief tenure, was on hand. When I first spotted him, I thought for a moment it was my old colleague Paul kern. All told the 15 guests probably represented over 400 years of teaching experience. Fred Chary invited me to watch the Flyers-Rangers outdoor hockey game on January 2 at his house. Had chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, something resembling ravioli, and salad. During the Q and A Ron Cohen asked his annual question about residential housing, Mary Russell inquired again about pedestrian safety crossing Broadway, and Jack Gruenenfelder wondered about the fate of Tamarack, condemned after the 2008 flood. It’s scheduled to be torn down in a couple months. We’ll see.
I had hoped that Bob Lovely would attend the luncheon and if asked what I’ve been doing lately (a question often posed by the host), was prepared to mention the Roy Dominguez autobiography “Valor” and how important IU Northwest was to his intellectual growth (and happiness – he met wife Betty on campus). Roy is still very appreciative that counselor Elsa Rivera had faith in him, Chief Andy Lazar urged him to become a state trooper, and Sociology professor Lovely was especially nurturing. Roy would sometimes attend his interesting special study sessions even though he already understood the material. I was disappointed when Bob, the best teacher on campus, moved into an administrative position in Continuing Education, but I’m sure he was very supportive to adults anxious about going back to school after many years.
I’ve been transcribing my interview with State Rep Vernon Smith, an Education professor and former Gary principal. His mother’s side of the family helped start Pilgrim Missionary Baptist Church while his dad’s side was more worldly. Vernon characterized himself as having been a “momma’s boy” but said his dad, a plumber, would brag on him went he’d need something and go to the back door of one of his many watering holes.
In trying to track down info on the parents of Gary-born economist Paul Samuelson, I discovered that former presidential adviser Larry Summers was his nephew and that Samuelson’s younger brother Robert, also an economist, was also born in Gary in 1922, a year before the family moved to Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood. Samuelson’s background is similar to his protégé Joseph Stiglitz. The two Nobel Prize winning economists will be honored at a December 15 Wall of Legends ceremony at the Lake County Tourist Bureau Welcome Center.
Jose Villarreal inquired about my helping his family put together a book similar to “Maria’s Journey,” which his mother recently gave him. His Uncle Willie Vega is mentioned in the book, and the Vegas were very prominent in East Chicago’s Latino community. I suggested that if someone produced a manuscript, I could help with the editing and possibly suggest a publisher.
Nephew Joe told me to check out the band Demons and Wizards so I did on YouTube. Joe has good taste. I learned that the band’s name comes from a Uriah Heep album.
Indiana Magazine of History asked me to review an article about Black women workers at the Kingsbury Ordnance Plant, located in LaPorte County, during WW II. More than 20,000 people worked there. Glad to oblige. Sounds fascinating. In my “Homefront” Shavings (volume 22) Wanda Jones wrote that Esther Sanders worked there weighing powder for bullets, a very dangerous job. She wrote that Esther “wore safety shoes and a suit to protect her against powder burns.” A co-worker didn’t take her burns seriously and was under medication for them years later. Wanda continued: “While working, Esther often heard them testing bullets right outside. The mere sound would send chills down her back. In two years Esther’s salary rose to 95 cents an hour for a ten-hour day and a six-day week.”
I finally bowled a decent series – 470 – and the Engineers in a position round won two of three games even though opponent Liney Neal bowled more than a hundred pins above his average. Had I picked up just half my ten-pins, I’d have had a 500. When I started at Cressmoor Lanes, Liney was the only African American in our Gary Sheet and Tin league. Now there are about eight, all nice, friendly guys. We won the first game by two pins when their anchor Jim Fowble failed to double in the tenth despite throwing what appeared to be a perfect ball. We edged them in the third game after Melvin Nelson, struggling all night, doubled in the final frame.
Teammate John Bulat said he ate no turkey on Thanksgiving because when he was a kid, he had a pet turkey that his family slaughtered without his knowledge and served it for Thanksgiving dinner. Back home, I called bowling captain Bill Batalis about the good news and put on an Avril Lavigne CD (“The Best Damn Thing”) and the Letterman Show on mute. It was a repeat of when he made fun of Herman Cain’s campaign manager smoking and did a hilarious smoking pantomime.
Secretary of State Hillary Clinton paid a historic visit to Myanmar (formerly Burma) and is meeting with Nobel Peace laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who until recently had been under house arrest for many years.
I’m in a fight with the world but I’m winning.”
Avril Lavigne
At Wednesday’s emeritus faculty luncheon Chancellor Lowe mentioned that he’s been reading my blog entries in the latest Shavings magazine “Calumet Region Connections” and was impressed with my knowledge of rock music. Volume 41 is in part a chronicle of IU Northwest during his first year at the helm, and he is listed in the index 14 times. Becoming very polished with ceremonial duties, he seems interested in supporting student activities and expanding the number of faculty. In attendance were three retirees who attended IUN as students – Angie Komenich, Mike Certa, and John Ban. Former acting chancellor Lloyd Rowe, who got smoking banned on campus and approved 9 new Arts and Sciences positions during his brief tenure, was on hand. When I first spotted him, I thought for a moment it was my old colleague Paul kern. All told the 15 guests probably represented over 400 years of teaching experience. Fred Chary invited me to watch the Flyers-Rangers outdoor hockey game on January 2 at his house. Had chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, something resembling ravioli, and salad. During the Q and A Ron Cohen asked his annual question about residential housing, Mary Russell inquired again about pedestrian safety crossing Broadway, and Jack Gruenenfelder wondered about the fate of Tamarack, condemned after the 2008 flood. It’s scheduled to be torn down in a couple months. We’ll see.
I had hoped that Bob Lovely would attend the luncheon and if asked what I’ve been doing lately (a question often posed by the host), was prepared to mention the Roy Dominguez autobiography “Valor” and how important IU Northwest was to his intellectual growth (and happiness – he met wife Betty on campus). Roy is still very appreciative that counselor Elsa Rivera had faith in him, Chief Andy Lazar urged him to become a state trooper, and Sociology professor Lovely was especially nurturing. Roy would sometimes attend his interesting special study sessions even though he already understood the material. I was disappointed when Bob, the best teacher on campus, moved into an administrative position in Continuing Education, but I’m sure he was very supportive to adults anxious about going back to school after many years.
I’ve been transcribing my interview with State Rep Vernon Smith, an Education professor and former Gary principal. His mother’s side of the family helped start Pilgrim Missionary Baptist Church while his dad’s side was more worldly. Vernon characterized himself as having been a “momma’s boy” but said his dad, a plumber, would brag on him went he’d need something and go to the back door of one of his many watering holes.
In trying to track down info on the parents of Gary-born economist Paul Samuelson, I discovered that former presidential adviser Larry Summers was his nephew and that Samuelson’s younger brother Robert, also an economist, was also born in Gary in 1922, a year before the family moved to Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood. Samuelson’s background is similar to his protégé Joseph Stiglitz. The two Nobel Prize winning economists will be honored at a December 15 Wall of Legends ceremony at the Lake County Tourist Bureau Welcome Center.
Jose Villarreal inquired about my helping his family put together a book similar to “Maria’s Journey,” which his mother recently gave him. His Uncle Willie Vega is mentioned in the book, and the Vegas were very prominent in East Chicago’s Latino community. I suggested that if someone produced a manuscript, I could help with the editing and possibly suggest a publisher.
Nephew Joe told me to check out the band Demons and Wizards so I did on YouTube. Joe has good taste. I learned that the band’s name comes from a Uriah Heep album.
Indiana Magazine of History asked me to review an article about Black women workers at the Kingsbury Ordnance Plant, located in LaPorte County, during WW II. More than 20,000 people worked there. Glad to oblige. Sounds fascinating. In my “Homefront” Shavings (volume 22) Wanda Jones wrote that Esther Sanders worked there weighing powder for bullets, a very dangerous job. She wrote that Esther “wore safety shoes and a suit to protect her against powder burns.” A co-worker didn’t take her burns seriously and was under medication for them years later. Wanda continued: “While working, Esther often heard them testing bullets right outside. The mere sound would send chills down her back. In two years Esther’s salary rose to 95 cents an hour for a ten-hour day and a six-day week.”
I finally bowled a decent series – 470 – and the Engineers in a position round won two of three games even though opponent Liney Neal bowled more than a hundred pins above his average. Had I picked up just half my ten-pins, I’d have had a 500. When I started at Cressmoor Lanes, Liney was the only African American in our Gary Sheet and Tin league. Now there are about eight, all nice, friendly guys. We won the first game by two pins when their anchor Jim Fowble failed to double in the tenth despite throwing what appeared to be a perfect ball. We edged them in the third game after Melvin Nelson, struggling all night, doubled in the final frame.
Teammate John Bulat said he ate no turkey on Thanksgiving because when he was a kid, he had a pet turkey that his family slaughtered without his knowledge and served it for Thanksgiving dinner. Back home, I called bowling captain Bill Batalis about the good news and put on an Avril Lavigne CD (“The Best Damn Thing”) and the Letterman Show on mute. It was a repeat of when he made fun of Herman Cain’s campaign manager smoking and did a hilarious smoking pantomime.
Secretary of State Hillary Clinton paid a historic visit to Myanmar (formerly Burma) and is meeting with Nobel Peace laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who until recently had been under house arrest for many years.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thanksgiving Weekend
“Stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow
Not in each other’s shadow.”
Kahil Gibran
Wednesday Jeff Hagelberg and May May got married at the First Unitarian Universalist Church in Hobart. At the last minute I was asked to do a reading after Jeff’s Uncle Mark declined. The 12-line advice began and ended with the words “Love one another, but make not a bond of love.” In other words, give each other space. The reception was at The Patio in Merrillville, and I had delicious filet mignon, something not normally found on a wedding menu. Dick and Cheryl’s dance instructor worked with the married couple the night before, and they did great box stepping through the traditional first dance. Sitting next to George McGuan, a big Notre Dame fan, I mentioned that I’d be in South Bend over Thanksgiving and that host Fritz, was an officer with the navy ROTC program. He told me that Notre Dame might have been forced to close during WW II had not the navy instituted the ROTC program that trained 16,000 officers. That’s why Notre Dame still plays Navy in football every year, as a show of gratitude, he said.
Spent Thanksgiving at niece Lisa’s in Granger (near South Bend) with my family of 12 plus another 20 of Toni’s relatives and four dogs. My culinary contribution was cooking more than a dozen batches of potato latkes on Saturday morning from leftover mashed potatoes. Twenty-four hours later Toni cooked up ten pounds of potatoes that were quickly devoured . She boiled them for six minutes, cut them into chunks, and then fried them in oil. Got in a half-dozen games of pinochle (Sonny and I dominated) and two Texas hold-’em tournaments (winning $25 by finishing third out of 13). I sang “I Wanna Be Sedated” on a karaoke machine while Lisa’s husband Fritz played drums and Phil and Josh were on guitars. Everyone got along, and the various cousins enjoyed each other enormously.
Thanksgiving week-end group activities included kick ball and ice-skating at a Notre Dame rink. Fritz showed me some Brian Regan comedy bits on his IPad and I introduced him to Frank Caliendo doing George W. Bush and John Madden. He also put on a “South Park” commentary about the song “Tom Sawyer” that Rush used as an intro on a recent tour. Setting up his DVR for the Notre Dame-Stanford game, he mentioned that he had recorded 44 episodes of the Steve Colbert show.
Bears and Eagles were on at the same time Sunday – both lost. Afterwards I mellowed out and put on the 1992 CD “Copper Blue” by Bob Mould’s band Sugar featuring one of my favorite songs “If I Can’t Change Your Mind (Then no one will).”
Jeff Manes asked for suggestions for interviewees for his Post-Trib SALTS column and I suggested Chesterton Tribune editor David Canright, who was active in the anti-nuke Bailly Alliance and whose family has owned the daily newspaper for over a century. He thought his boss would nix giving a competitor space.
Sheriff Roy Dominguez is happy over the cover IU Press has selected for his book “Valor.” Merrillville History Book Club secretary Joy Anderson penciled me in to discuss the book next September.
For “Thank a teacher Day” Sam Barnett wrote on Facebook: “I say everyone in Gary and The Region should thank James Lane, who is truly a People's Historian. His method hugely influences my techniques, so as an imitator I am of course thankful!” How nice. I responded: “Thanks pal. I’m still sorry you weren’t my replacement when I retired.”
Vietnam vet Bruce Weigl was born in Lorain, Ohio, but could have been writing about Gary, Indiana, in his poem “Meditation at Pearl Street,” which refers to steelworkers “hunched in the predawn cold, caught in light from mill towers like search lights.” He writes of “gas flaming up blue and white from the open hearth” and slag heaps resembling “black desert by the lake.” He describes the “small company houses painted in pastels against the fly ash that came down on us like dogwood dust” and the “rough love” that bound families together despite the “chronic anger” such an injurious environment bred.
I set up an interview with State Rep Vernon Smith for tomorrow. His mother was one of the African-American students transferred to Emerson in 1927 so she could take college prep courses and then kicked out in the wake of a white student boycott of classes. Sixty years later she and others received diplomas as a belated recognition of the injustice.
I got my revenge against Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes, averaging 150+ for three games despite missing several easy spares while he struggled before finally finishing with a double. Last time when I paid the $12 he went out and bought a steak for dinner. Looks like hot dogs for you tonight, I told him.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow
Not in each other’s shadow.”
Kahil Gibran
Wednesday Jeff Hagelberg and May May got married at the First Unitarian Universalist Church in Hobart. At the last minute I was asked to do a reading after Jeff’s Uncle Mark declined. The 12-line advice began and ended with the words “Love one another, but make not a bond of love.” In other words, give each other space. The reception was at The Patio in Merrillville, and I had delicious filet mignon, something not normally found on a wedding menu. Dick and Cheryl’s dance instructor worked with the married couple the night before, and they did great box stepping through the traditional first dance. Sitting next to George McGuan, a big Notre Dame fan, I mentioned that I’d be in South Bend over Thanksgiving and that host Fritz, was an officer with the navy ROTC program. He told me that Notre Dame might have been forced to close during WW II had not the navy instituted the ROTC program that trained 16,000 officers. That’s why Notre Dame still plays Navy in football every year, as a show of gratitude, he said.
Spent Thanksgiving at niece Lisa’s in Granger (near South Bend) with my family of 12 plus another 20 of Toni’s relatives and four dogs. My culinary contribution was cooking more than a dozen batches of potato latkes on Saturday morning from leftover mashed potatoes. Twenty-four hours later Toni cooked up ten pounds of potatoes that were quickly devoured . She boiled them for six minutes, cut them into chunks, and then fried them in oil. Got in a half-dozen games of pinochle (Sonny and I dominated) and two Texas hold-’em tournaments (winning $25 by finishing third out of 13). I sang “I Wanna Be Sedated” on a karaoke machine while Lisa’s husband Fritz played drums and Phil and Josh were on guitars. Everyone got along, and the various cousins enjoyed each other enormously.
Thanksgiving week-end group activities included kick ball and ice-skating at a Notre Dame rink. Fritz showed me some Brian Regan comedy bits on his IPad and I introduced him to Frank Caliendo doing George W. Bush and John Madden. He also put on a “South Park” commentary about the song “Tom Sawyer” that Rush used as an intro on a recent tour. Setting up his DVR for the Notre Dame-Stanford game, he mentioned that he had recorded 44 episodes of the Steve Colbert show.
Bears and Eagles were on at the same time Sunday – both lost. Afterwards I mellowed out and put on the 1992 CD “Copper Blue” by Bob Mould’s band Sugar featuring one of my favorite songs “If I Can’t Change Your Mind (Then no one will).”
Jeff Manes asked for suggestions for interviewees for his Post-Trib SALTS column and I suggested Chesterton Tribune editor David Canright, who was active in the anti-nuke Bailly Alliance and whose family has owned the daily newspaper for over a century. He thought his boss would nix giving a competitor space.
Sheriff Roy Dominguez is happy over the cover IU Press has selected for his book “Valor.” Merrillville History Book Club secretary Joy Anderson penciled me in to discuss the book next September.
For “Thank a teacher Day” Sam Barnett wrote on Facebook: “I say everyone in Gary and The Region should thank James Lane, who is truly a People's Historian. His method hugely influences my techniques, so as an imitator I am of course thankful!” How nice. I responded: “Thanks pal. I’m still sorry you weren’t my replacement when I retired.”
Vietnam vet Bruce Weigl was born in Lorain, Ohio, but could have been writing about Gary, Indiana, in his poem “Meditation at Pearl Street,” which refers to steelworkers “hunched in the predawn cold, caught in light from mill towers like search lights.” He writes of “gas flaming up blue and white from the open hearth” and slag heaps resembling “black desert by the lake.” He describes the “small company houses painted in pastels against the fly ash that came down on us like dogwood dust” and the “rough love” that bound families together despite the “chronic anger” such an injurious environment bred.
I set up an interview with State Rep Vernon Smith for tomorrow. His mother was one of the African-American students transferred to Emerson in 1927 so she could take college prep courses and then kicked out in the wake of a white student boycott of classes. Sixty years later she and others received diplomas as a belated recognition of the injustice.
I got my revenge against Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes, averaging 150+ for three games despite missing several easy spares while he struggled before finally finishing with a double. Last time when I paid the $12 he went out and bought a steak for dinner. Looks like hot dogs for you tonight, I told him.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Shame on the Moon
“Blame it on midnight,
Shame on the moon.”
Bob Seger
I spent a long weekend in Palm Springs, California, visiting my 95 year-old mother. We went to the Art Museum to see an Andrew Wyeth exhibit. More exciting was a Pop Art exhibit that included Andy Warhol’s “Brillo Pad Dress” and a Louise Bourgeois bronze of a spider hanging on the wall. John De Andrea did a very realistic nude figure reclining on her side entitled “Joan,” and Gavin Turk deposited what looked to be six trash bags in the center of a room in the aptly titled “Pile.” There were several Lichtenstein entrees, including “Roommates” from his Nudes Series. Less impressive were a Rauschenberg steel panel “Pegasits/ROCI USA” and a minimalist set of lines by Louis Morris entitled “Numbers 2-00.” If my dad had been with us, he would have shaken his head and said, “I could do that.”
Nephew Bob drove up from San Diego. His wife and kids were planning on coming but Crosby broke out in a terrible rash in what turned out to be an allergic reaction to penicillin. Saturday evening we ate at a restaurant called Shame on the Moon, also the title of a Bob Seger song. Evidently the owner has a companion restaurant called Blame it on Midnight. Three of us ordered filet mignon, and Bob noted that mine appeared to be about twice as big as his.
At a sports bar Sunday called Yard House, where they serve beer in thin glasses a yard long, all the NFL games were on at the same time. In a special kids section were TVs screening various cartoons. Some Dallas Cowboy fans were cheering when they scored on the Redskins, so when Washington tied the score we cheered and gave each other high fives. The Skins’ kicker missed a field goal try or I would have won the weekly pool against the other dozen guys. Bob has a great sense of humor, and I love being with him. He teased me about whipping me in Fantasy Football even though he forgot to replace two players on bye weeks.
My brother recently saw my old friends Terry Jenkins and Sammy Corey and they recalled summer poker games on our front porch at 209 Fort Washington Avenue. I’d go around on my bike washing cars in the morning, and we’d play most afternoons. My dad and I also played a baseball pinball game for hours on that porch, even making out lineups and keeping statistics. Vic was very good at releasing balls just enough to have them fall into the doubles slot. Depending on the batter, I’d go for singles and home runs.
Renting a Corolla, I used a G.P.S. device for the first time and found it pretty neat. It certainly was easier than reading Map Quest directions. Programming it, I couldn’t figure out how to go back if I made a mistake, so I’d turn the engine off and start over. I also used my cell phone numerous times, unusual for me. On the plane it seemed that everyone but me had an Iphone and skillfully manipulated their thumbs to scroll back and forth. Several were using kindle devices to read books. American Airlines had no TVs in sight, but several folks were watching movies on their laptops. With a strong tail wind we made it back to O’Hare 40 minutes early. Couldn’t finish the USA Today crossword puzzle, drawing a blank on a place where headroom is a problem (doorway). Toni finished it for me in less than a minute.
John Laue was in the Archives working on a book about the Indiana Dunes national Lakeshore communities displaced by the federal government, including Edgewater, our old neighborhood.
Forwarded to Ray Smock a cartoon from Beamer Pickert showing Freud with this advice: Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure you are not, in fact, surrounded by assholes. I added that Republican candidate Jon Huntsman could use such counsel. He liked it and added: “It is clear that Huntsman is qualified but unelectable. Some say Newt is qualified but unelectable. I say Newt is not qualified on the prima facie obviousness that he is a colossal hypocrite and propagandist. The fact that he is a colossal hypocrite means he could get elected if all the true assholes vote.”
I talked to Steve’s class about postwar Northwest Indiana using my “Age of Anxiety” magazine. After students read excerpts of oral histories, I talked about trying to capture a balanced approach to Gary recent history in my “Centennial” history. Like with the Gary Roosevelt students last week, I talked about the “Hanging On, Bouncing Back” chapter, in particular the schools, and read a poem by former priest John Sheehan.
Caught the two-hour finale of “Dancing with the Stars.” Voted off first was the best of the trio, Ricky Lake. Then Iraq vet J.R. Martinez, badly burned when his Humvee hit a landmine, triumphed against over-rated Rob Kardashian. Lady Antebellum performed two songs, including “Dancing Away with my Heart.”
Shame on the moon.”
Bob Seger
I spent a long weekend in Palm Springs, California, visiting my 95 year-old mother. We went to the Art Museum to see an Andrew Wyeth exhibit. More exciting was a Pop Art exhibit that included Andy Warhol’s “Brillo Pad Dress” and a Louise Bourgeois bronze of a spider hanging on the wall. John De Andrea did a very realistic nude figure reclining on her side entitled “Joan,” and Gavin Turk deposited what looked to be six trash bags in the center of a room in the aptly titled “Pile.” There were several Lichtenstein entrees, including “Roommates” from his Nudes Series. Less impressive were a Rauschenberg steel panel “Pegasits/ROCI USA” and a minimalist set of lines by Louis Morris entitled “Numbers 2-00.” If my dad had been with us, he would have shaken his head and said, “I could do that.”
Nephew Bob drove up from San Diego. His wife and kids were planning on coming but Crosby broke out in a terrible rash in what turned out to be an allergic reaction to penicillin. Saturday evening we ate at a restaurant called Shame on the Moon, also the title of a Bob Seger song. Evidently the owner has a companion restaurant called Blame it on Midnight. Three of us ordered filet mignon, and Bob noted that mine appeared to be about twice as big as his.
At a sports bar Sunday called Yard House, where they serve beer in thin glasses a yard long, all the NFL games were on at the same time. In a special kids section were TVs screening various cartoons. Some Dallas Cowboy fans were cheering when they scored on the Redskins, so when Washington tied the score we cheered and gave each other high fives. The Skins’ kicker missed a field goal try or I would have won the weekly pool against the other dozen guys. Bob has a great sense of humor, and I love being with him. He teased me about whipping me in Fantasy Football even though he forgot to replace two players on bye weeks.
My brother recently saw my old friends Terry Jenkins and Sammy Corey and they recalled summer poker games on our front porch at 209 Fort Washington Avenue. I’d go around on my bike washing cars in the morning, and we’d play most afternoons. My dad and I also played a baseball pinball game for hours on that porch, even making out lineups and keeping statistics. Vic was very good at releasing balls just enough to have them fall into the doubles slot. Depending on the batter, I’d go for singles and home runs.
Renting a Corolla, I used a G.P.S. device for the first time and found it pretty neat. It certainly was easier than reading Map Quest directions. Programming it, I couldn’t figure out how to go back if I made a mistake, so I’d turn the engine off and start over. I also used my cell phone numerous times, unusual for me. On the plane it seemed that everyone but me had an Iphone and skillfully manipulated their thumbs to scroll back and forth. Several were using kindle devices to read books. American Airlines had no TVs in sight, but several folks were watching movies on their laptops. With a strong tail wind we made it back to O’Hare 40 minutes early. Couldn’t finish the USA Today crossword puzzle, drawing a blank on a place where headroom is a problem (doorway). Toni finished it for me in less than a minute.
John Laue was in the Archives working on a book about the Indiana Dunes national Lakeshore communities displaced by the federal government, including Edgewater, our old neighborhood.
Forwarded to Ray Smock a cartoon from Beamer Pickert showing Freud with this advice: Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure you are not, in fact, surrounded by assholes. I added that Republican candidate Jon Huntsman could use such counsel. He liked it and added: “It is clear that Huntsman is qualified but unelectable. Some say Newt is qualified but unelectable. I say Newt is not qualified on the prima facie obviousness that he is a colossal hypocrite and propagandist. The fact that he is a colossal hypocrite means he could get elected if all the true assholes vote.”
I talked to Steve’s class about postwar Northwest Indiana using my “Age of Anxiety” magazine. After students read excerpts of oral histories, I talked about trying to capture a balanced approach to Gary recent history in my “Centennial” history. Like with the Gary Roosevelt students last week, I talked about the “Hanging On, Bouncing Back” chapter, in particular the schools, and read a poem by former priest John Sheehan.
Caught the two-hour finale of “Dancing with the Stars.” Voted off first was the best of the trio, Ricky Lake. Then Iraq vet J.R. Martinez, badly burned when his Humvee hit a landmine, triumphed against over-rated Rob Kardashian. Lady Antebellum performed two songs, including “Dancing Away with my Heart.”
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Bouncing Back
Wednesday I talked to students at Roosevelt High School about Gary history and gave them copies of “Gary’s First Hundred Years.” I concentrated on the chapter dealing with 1981-1995, “Hanging On, Bouncing Back,” in particular the school days section. Several of the girls played varsity basketball, so I read a paragraph about someone who played on West Side’s team during the 1990s. SPEA professor Ellen Szarleta, the director of the Center for Urban and Regional Excellence, contacted me to do it and told me I had the students’ attention the entire time, no mean feat.
Former student Don Young brought noted artist and sculptor Murcie Poplar Lavender to the Archives. She wants me to look at a 500-page autobiography that she has completed. Thirty years ago she did an 8-foot sculpture called “The Steelworker” for a park near the mill but a truck subsequently backed into it and ruined it. Murcie and I were recipients of the Neal Marshall Award of Excellence six years ago, thanks to Don nominating us.
Historian Gregg Andrews sent me a CD of his group Dr. G and the Mudhens that is quite impressive. I especially liked “My Daddy’s Blues” (also the album title) and “The Things You Do.” I suggested the band try to be part of the Mammoth Lakes, California Bluesapalooza that my old high school classmate Flossie Worster is associated with.
My bowling slump continues although I had one good game and the Engineers won two points. Next to us were guys wearing System of a Down and Stone Temple Pilots t-shirts. I mentioned seeing Velvet Revolver (featuring three of the Pilots) at the Star Plaza. I’ll be off next week for Jeff Hagelberg’s wedding but hope to get in a practice session with Clark so I can come bouncing back.
Former student Don Young brought noted artist and sculptor Murcie Poplar Lavender to the Archives. She wants me to look at a 500-page autobiography that she has completed. Thirty years ago she did an 8-foot sculpture called “The Steelworker” for a park near the mill but a truck subsequently backed into it and ruined it. Murcie and I were recipients of the Neal Marshall Award of Excellence six years ago, thanks to Don nominating us.
Historian Gregg Andrews sent me a CD of his group Dr. G and the Mudhens that is quite impressive. I especially liked “My Daddy’s Blues” (also the album title) and “The Things You Do.” I suggested the band try to be part of the Mammoth Lakes, California Bluesapalooza that my old high school classmate Flossie Worster is associated with.
My bowling slump continues although I had one good game and the Engineers won two points. Next to us were guys wearing System of a Down and Stone Temple Pilots t-shirts. I mentioned seeing Velvet Revolver (featuring three of the Pilots) at the Star Plaza. I’ll be off next week for Jeff Hagelberg’s wedding but hope to get in a practice session with Clark so I can come bouncing back.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Conjunction Junction
“When you have a choice like
This or that.
And, but and or,
Get you pretty far.”
“Conjunction Junction, What’s Your Function?”
Friday Tom Higgins delivered some “treasures” to the Archives, as Steve McShane likes to put it, and I gave him the Flight 33 production CD of the Hashima/Gary documentary we were both in. He told me how I could get in touch with football coach Hank Stram’s sister Dolly Berry. I called her and set up an interview.
Rebecca and James were in a production of “High School Musical Junior.” Because their school has no adequate stage, it was at Portage High. Rebecca had one of the leads and James did a terrific Elvis number. He and the entire cast was on stage for virtually all the musical numbers. Old friends Kevin and Tina were there as was Angie’s dad John. Angie was in charge of costumes and busy backstage. The songs deal with history (albeit, western expansion sans Indians), math, social studies, and grammatical parts of speech such as nouns, verbs, and conjunctions.
After shopping and library browsing Saturday I watched part of the Penn State contest to see how the school and the TV pregame handled the molestation revelations. “Happy Valley” is anything but. Some wanted the game cancelled, but what good would that do? An HBO documentary about the 1960 U.S. Open golf championship showed clips of JFK and Bandstand regulars dancing the Twist. Old veteran Ben Hogan faltered in the face of challenges from winner Arnold Palmer and 20 year-old collegian Jack Nicklaus. On the seventeenth hole Ben hit a nine-iron onto the green only to have the backspin cause it to roll off and into the water. Having survived the Great Depression and a near-fatal car accident, Hogan was not a gracious loser. Palmer looked far more muscular than I remembered him. He was my dad’s favorite.
Lori Montalbano invited me to the opening of the new IUN Fine Arts facility on Grant Street, which coincided with the department’s fiftieth anniversary. Good food was on hand, and I talked with Janet Taylor from Printing Services, who recently retired after 49 years, and Ken and Peg Schoon. Old student William Goldsby was there with his wife Sandra, who is on the Miller Beach committee setting up the Pop Up Art Happenings. Gary and Nancy Wilk arrived just as Dean Mark Hoyert was mocking Texas governor Perry’s latest gaffe; he claimed there were three reasons for holding the event and then pretended to forget what the third one was. Sitting with the Wilks was Chesterton artist/teacher Donald Whisler, who mentioned that Paul Kern was one of his favorite teachers.
After Dave won Amun Re, St. Petersburg, and Acquire, I triumphed in Stone Age, then watched the Bears rout of Detroit at the Hagelbergs. Cheryl served pork roll, pierogis, onions and mushrooms, and a yummy salad. Corey and girlfriend Kate arrived after working on their new house near Forest Ave. Home for “Boardwalk Empire,” which had some interesting twists. Gangster Jimmy Darmody’s wife Angela, for instance, meets a free-spirited novelist on the beach and kisses her at a party where there are dancers, artists, and other bohemian types. Meanwhile Nucky pretends to go into retirement and prepares to travel to Ireland, taking gangster Arnold Rothstein’s advice that it is sometimes best to bides one’s time until the odds favor you.
Retired air force colonel and IUN student John Starzyk asked me to recommend a book about U.S. Steel for a friend who is retiring. I told him about “Steel Giants” by McShane and Wilk and sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years.”
I spent 90 minutes interviewing Hank Stram’s 86 year-old sister Dolly at her home. Hank’s mother Nellie, who opened up a restaurant in the Brunswick neighborhood (Ma Stram’s) after her husband died. It was a hangout for Edison students and had a jukebox of swing music for jitterbug dancing. After her second husband died, Nellie would visit Hank in Kansas City and New Orleans and take care of grandkids when he and his wife were traveling. She was known for making six-layer birthday cakes and would take a large stash of pierogis with her when she visited him. She lived just a couple blocks from us in Miller during the early 1970s, and Hank frequently visited. I met Hank at a sports banquet, and he was very gracious. One time Dolly drove him to their old Brunswick neighborhood, and they stopped to get directions from a Black man who recognized him. Hank took his Superbowl ring off to let the guy see it. Dolly was hoping the man wouldn’t take off running, but all went well.
I ran into former student Don Young in the parking lot and offered him my latest Shavings, which he appears in twice. He brought octogenarian Murcie Poplar with him to the Archives. An artist and sculptor, she wants me to critique a 500-page autobiographical manuscript. I told her I’d be honored.
At Theo’s in Highland for the History book club presentation of Gordon W. Prange’s Pearl Harbor book “At Dawn We Slept.” I mentioned that the author was teaching at Maryland while I was a grad student and that he treated Governor Joseph B. Poindexter more accurately than Walter Lord did in “Day of Infamy.” There were several old-timers there who remembered hearing about Pearl Harbor. One was at Soldiers Field watching a football game between the Bears and the Chicago Cardinals. I sat next to former Millerites Bob Selund and Judge Ken Anderson. It took about 45 minutes for the waitress to get individual checks to us. I had the house salad and rolls plus two Becks for $16.81, including tax and tip.
Vietnam Vet Jay Keck sent me a fascinating book of poems by Bruce Weigl entitled “What Saves Us.” I was familiar with one of his previous books, “Songs of Napalm.” In a poem full of memories about a father living near “the slag heaps of our steel city dying upon our dying lake” who beat his kid with a belt, the last verse goes: “He is home from the foundry, younger than I am now, the black dust from the mill like a mask; and he is bending down to me in the dusk where I waited on the steps of the bar for his bus; and the cathedral he makes with his fingers opens to a silver dime he twists before me and lays down into my hands for being good he says.”
In “Why We Are Forgiven” Bruce Weigl writes: “Men still make steel in the hellish mill though thousands are laid off and dazed. They do the shopping for their working wives and dream the blast furnace rumble. Mill dust and red slag grit is blood for some people.”
This or that.
And, but and or,
Get you pretty far.”
“Conjunction Junction, What’s Your Function?”
Friday Tom Higgins delivered some “treasures” to the Archives, as Steve McShane likes to put it, and I gave him the Flight 33 production CD of the Hashima/Gary documentary we were both in. He told me how I could get in touch with football coach Hank Stram’s sister Dolly Berry. I called her and set up an interview.
Rebecca and James were in a production of “High School Musical Junior.” Because their school has no adequate stage, it was at Portage High. Rebecca had one of the leads and James did a terrific Elvis number. He and the entire cast was on stage for virtually all the musical numbers. Old friends Kevin and Tina were there as was Angie’s dad John. Angie was in charge of costumes and busy backstage. The songs deal with history (albeit, western expansion sans Indians), math, social studies, and grammatical parts of speech such as nouns, verbs, and conjunctions.
After shopping and library browsing Saturday I watched part of the Penn State contest to see how the school and the TV pregame handled the molestation revelations. “Happy Valley” is anything but. Some wanted the game cancelled, but what good would that do? An HBO documentary about the 1960 U.S. Open golf championship showed clips of JFK and Bandstand regulars dancing the Twist. Old veteran Ben Hogan faltered in the face of challenges from winner Arnold Palmer and 20 year-old collegian Jack Nicklaus. On the seventeenth hole Ben hit a nine-iron onto the green only to have the backspin cause it to roll off and into the water. Having survived the Great Depression and a near-fatal car accident, Hogan was not a gracious loser. Palmer looked far more muscular than I remembered him. He was my dad’s favorite.
Lori Montalbano invited me to the opening of the new IUN Fine Arts facility on Grant Street, which coincided with the department’s fiftieth anniversary. Good food was on hand, and I talked with Janet Taylor from Printing Services, who recently retired after 49 years, and Ken and Peg Schoon. Old student William Goldsby was there with his wife Sandra, who is on the Miller Beach committee setting up the Pop Up Art Happenings. Gary and Nancy Wilk arrived just as Dean Mark Hoyert was mocking Texas governor Perry’s latest gaffe; he claimed there were three reasons for holding the event and then pretended to forget what the third one was. Sitting with the Wilks was Chesterton artist/teacher Donald Whisler, who mentioned that Paul Kern was one of his favorite teachers.
After Dave won Amun Re, St. Petersburg, and Acquire, I triumphed in Stone Age, then watched the Bears rout of Detroit at the Hagelbergs. Cheryl served pork roll, pierogis, onions and mushrooms, and a yummy salad. Corey and girlfriend Kate arrived after working on their new house near Forest Ave. Home for “Boardwalk Empire,” which had some interesting twists. Gangster Jimmy Darmody’s wife Angela, for instance, meets a free-spirited novelist on the beach and kisses her at a party where there are dancers, artists, and other bohemian types. Meanwhile Nucky pretends to go into retirement and prepares to travel to Ireland, taking gangster Arnold Rothstein’s advice that it is sometimes best to bides one’s time until the odds favor you.
Retired air force colonel and IUN student John Starzyk asked me to recommend a book about U.S. Steel for a friend who is retiring. I told him about “Steel Giants” by McShane and Wilk and sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years.”
I spent 90 minutes interviewing Hank Stram’s 86 year-old sister Dolly at her home. Hank’s mother Nellie, who opened up a restaurant in the Brunswick neighborhood (Ma Stram’s) after her husband died. It was a hangout for Edison students and had a jukebox of swing music for jitterbug dancing. After her second husband died, Nellie would visit Hank in Kansas City and New Orleans and take care of grandkids when he and his wife were traveling. She was known for making six-layer birthday cakes and would take a large stash of pierogis with her when she visited him. She lived just a couple blocks from us in Miller during the early 1970s, and Hank frequently visited. I met Hank at a sports banquet, and he was very gracious. One time Dolly drove him to their old Brunswick neighborhood, and they stopped to get directions from a Black man who recognized him. Hank took his Superbowl ring off to let the guy see it. Dolly was hoping the man wouldn’t take off running, but all went well.
I ran into former student Don Young in the parking lot and offered him my latest Shavings, which he appears in twice. He brought octogenarian Murcie Poplar with him to the Archives. An artist and sculptor, she wants me to critique a 500-page autobiographical manuscript. I told her I’d be honored.
At Theo’s in Highland for the History book club presentation of Gordon W. Prange’s Pearl Harbor book “At Dawn We Slept.” I mentioned that the author was teaching at Maryland while I was a grad student and that he treated Governor Joseph B. Poindexter more accurately than Walter Lord did in “Day of Infamy.” There were several old-timers there who remembered hearing about Pearl Harbor. One was at Soldiers Field watching a football game between the Bears and the Chicago Cardinals. I sat next to former Millerites Bob Selund and Judge Ken Anderson. It took about 45 minutes for the waitress to get individual checks to us. I had the house salad and rolls plus two Becks for $16.81, including tax and tip.
Vietnam Vet Jay Keck sent me a fascinating book of poems by Bruce Weigl entitled “What Saves Us.” I was familiar with one of his previous books, “Songs of Napalm.” In a poem full of memories about a father living near “the slag heaps of our steel city dying upon our dying lake” who beat his kid with a belt, the last verse goes: “He is home from the foundry, younger than I am now, the black dust from the mill like a mask; and he is bending down to me in the dusk where I waited on the steps of the bar for his bus; and the cathedral he makes with his fingers opens to a silver dime he twists before me and lays down into my hands for being good he says.”
In “Why We Are Forgiven” Bruce Weigl writes: “Men still make steel in the hellish mill though thousands are laid off and dazed. They do the shopping for their working wives and dream the blast furnace rumble. Mill dust and red slag grit is blood for some people.”
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Daddy's Blues
“He’d drag ass home from work
Lookin’ lot older than his years
And in those eyes I could see
My Daddy’s Blues.”
Doctor G and the Mudcats
Gregg Andrews, author of the Thyra Edwards biography, sent me a typescript Thyra’s sister Thelma Marshall did of her ancestors. In turn I sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years” and asked whether he could speak on our campus in February during Black History Month. He said he was “thoroughly enjoying” the book but would be in Texas that month touring with a “swampy blues band, Doctor G and the Mudcats.” I looked them up on Google and found two YouTube numbers they performed live, “Rockin’ Rita” and “My Daddy’s Blues.” Gregg’s the frontman. They were quite good.
My dad, Vic, was a white-collar commuter living in Fort Washington, PA and working for Penn Salt, a corporation whose offices were in Center City Philadelphia. Like “Daddy” in the Mudcats song he was a Camel smoker and died young, at age 50 but he liked one stiff whiskey drink when he got home not Falstaff beer as in the song. He liked show tunes and crooners like Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby rather than Jimmy Rogers and swamp blues, but his job could get him down – on the road much of the years and pressured by Penn Salt to conform to proper dress and manners. Even when golfing Sunday mornings, his monogrammed polo shirt and slacks matched the others on the links of Manufacturers Golf Course. He taught me poker and other card games and we made up lineups and kept statistics for a baseball pinball game that we played for hours when we weren’t in the basement playing ping pong or outside shooting hoops or playing wiffleball (one game I could beat him in). He was really disappointed when I quit law school to pursue a doctorate in History but shortly before he died suddenly of a heart attack he confided to me with a wink that maybe it would be nice to have a doctor in the house. He and Midge were planning to build a getaway cottage in the Poconoes that he hoped his grandkids (whom he never got to see) would visit.
I voted straight Democrat at Brummitt School in Chesterton even though there was only one contested town council race. Gary officially elected its first woman mayor Karen Freeman Wilson and Portage voters unfortunately defeated its first female mayor Olga Velazquez. Driving the Occupy Wall Street Movement off the front page are about sex scandals involving former Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky and Republican Presidential hopeful Herman Cain.
TerryAnn Defenser in University Relations came to the Archives to get my signature on a copy of “Gary’s First Hundred Years” that she intends to give a friend named Marty. She also got Steve to inscribe “Steel Giants.”
Retired Sociology professor Barry Johnston passed away. He was about my age and quite a stud when he first showed up on campus with long hair, a Texas accent, and riding a motorcycle. I played tennis with him and poker, and he was a very tough teacher and prolific scholar. At lunch Chuck Gallmeier talked about rooming with him when they’d travel together to Sociology conferences. I interviewed him while researching a history of IUN, and this is how he described being interviewed in 1973 by administrator Herman Feldman: “I had done a master’s thesis on hippies and the drug experience. In my vita I called it a participant/observation study. Feldman wanted to know how much participation I had done. I phrased my answer carefully. I had shoulder-length hair and a beard and was committed to an alternative lifestyle. I enjoyed being an intellectual but relished living life on the boundaries. I tried to answer Herman’s question honestly without leading myself into harm’s way.”
Last evening I bowled better than usual but the Engineers lost all three games, the last one by a single point despite our clean-up man David “Duke” Caminski rolling a 269. In the tenth he struck and then left a eight pin on a perfect hit.
I interviewed State Senator Earline Rogers for my “On Their Shoulders” project. Her dad Earl Smith, was a tremendous athlete in high school at Froebel who had to quit college when his mother’s health failed. Becoming a steelworker, he worked different shifts and would often come home angry over the way Blacks were discriminated against. It was his hope that all five of his children would graduate from college, and they eventually did. Earline grew up in a Delaney Housing Project home. Her mom was a good campaigner when Earline went into politics. Earline ran for mayor in 1995 and would have beaten Scott King had not a second Black candidate Judge Charles Graddick, not divided the Black vote. She got her competitive streak from her dad and would have been a good mayor.
I had great food at Asia Day in the Savannah gym. Former vice chancellor Marilyn Vasquez was one of the servers. There was a fashion show and other entertainment. During one musical interlude Tanice Foltz came up and started dancing with me. One woman got a dozen students to help her demonstrate examples of laugh therapy. Vice Chancellor David Malik handed out candy bars to folks who correctly answered questions about various Asian countries.
Chris Young’s student Elizabeth Laduke met me at the Archives to ask about the Elbert H. Gary statue downtown and the Michael Jackson monument in front of the house where he grew up. I mentioned that Judge Gary was no friend to African-American steelworkers and that there was a movement during the 1970s to change the city’s name to DuSable. I defended Michael against charges that he never did anything for the city and speculated that there might be a statue of his likeness in the future as fans continue to gather outside the house on special occasions.
Lookin’ lot older than his years
And in those eyes I could see
My Daddy’s Blues.”
Doctor G and the Mudcats
Gregg Andrews, author of the Thyra Edwards biography, sent me a typescript Thyra’s sister Thelma Marshall did of her ancestors. In turn I sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years” and asked whether he could speak on our campus in February during Black History Month. He said he was “thoroughly enjoying” the book but would be in Texas that month touring with a “swampy blues band, Doctor G and the Mudcats.” I looked them up on Google and found two YouTube numbers they performed live, “Rockin’ Rita” and “My Daddy’s Blues.” Gregg’s the frontman. They were quite good.
My dad, Vic, was a white-collar commuter living in Fort Washington, PA and working for Penn Salt, a corporation whose offices were in Center City Philadelphia. Like “Daddy” in the Mudcats song he was a Camel smoker and died young, at age 50 but he liked one stiff whiskey drink when he got home not Falstaff beer as in the song. He liked show tunes and crooners like Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby rather than Jimmy Rogers and swamp blues, but his job could get him down – on the road much of the years and pressured by Penn Salt to conform to proper dress and manners. Even when golfing Sunday mornings, his monogrammed polo shirt and slacks matched the others on the links of Manufacturers Golf Course. He taught me poker and other card games and we made up lineups and kept statistics for a baseball pinball game that we played for hours when we weren’t in the basement playing ping pong or outside shooting hoops or playing wiffleball (one game I could beat him in). He was really disappointed when I quit law school to pursue a doctorate in History but shortly before he died suddenly of a heart attack he confided to me with a wink that maybe it would be nice to have a doctor in the house. He and Midge were planning to build a getaway cottage in the Poconoes that he hoped his grandkids (whom he never got to see) would visit.
I voted straight Democrat at Brummitt School in Chesterton even though there was only one contested town council race. Gary officially elected its first woman mayor Karen Freeman Wilson and Portage voters unfortunately defeated its first female mayor Olga Velazquez. Driving the Occupy Wall Street Movement off the front page are about sex scandals involving former Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky and Republican Presidential hopeful Herman Cain.
TerryAnn Defenser in University Relations came to the Archives to get my signature on a copy of “Gary’s First Hundred Years” that she intends to give a friend named Marty. She also got Steve to inscribe “Steel Giants.”
Retired Sociology professor Barry Johnston passed away. He was about my age and quite a stud when he first showed up on campus with long hair, a Texas accent, and riding a motorcycle. I played tennis with him and poker, and he was a very tough teacher and prolific scholar. At lunch Chuck Gallmeier talked about rooming with him when they’d travel together to Sociology conferences. I interviewed him while researching a history of IUN, and this is how he described being interviewed in 1973 by administrator Herman Feldman: “I had done a master’s thesis on hippies and the drug experience. In my vita I called it a participant/observation study. Feldman wanted to know how much participation I had done. I phrased my answer carefully. I had shoulder-length hair and a beard and was committed to an alternative lifestyle. I enjoyed being an intellectual but relished living life on the boundaries. I tried to answer Herman’s question honestly without leading myself into harm’s way.”
Last evening I bowled better than usual but the Engineers lost all three games, the last one by a single point despite our clean-up man David “Duke” Caminski rolling a 269. In the tenth he struck and then left a eight pin on a perfect hit.
I interviewed State Senator Earline Rogers for my “On Their Shoulders” project. Her dad Earl Smith, was a tremendous athlete in high school at Froebel who had to quit college when his mother’s health failed. Becoming a steelworker, he worked different shifts and would often come home angry over the way Blacks were discriminated against. It was his hope that all five of his children would graduate from college, and they eventually did. Earline grew up in a Delaney Housing Project home. Her mom was a good campaigner when Earline went into politics. Earline ran for mayor in 1995 and would have beaten Scott King had not a second Black candidate Judge Charles Graddick, not divided the Black vote. She got her competitive streak from her dad and would have been a good mayor.
I had great food at Asia Day in the Savannah gym. Former vice chancellor Marilyn Vasquez was one of the servers. There was a fashion show and other entertainment. During one musical interlude Tanice Foltz came up and started dancing with me. One woman got a dozen students to help her demonstrate examples of laugh therapy. Vice Chancellor David Malik handed out candy bars to folks who correctly answered questions about various Asian countries.
Chris Young’s student Elizabeth Laduke met me at the Archives to ask about the Elbert H. Gary statue downtown and the Michael Jackson monument in front of the house where he grew up. I mentioned that Judge Gary was no friend to African-American steelworkers and that there was a movement during the 1970s to change the city’s name to DuSable. I defended Michael against charges that he never did anything for the city and speculated that there might be a statue of his likeness in the future as fans continue to gather outside the house on special occasions.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Madura's Danceland
“Louie, Louie,
Me gotta go.”
Kingsmen
At the Portage Library I came across the Summer 2011 issue of TRACES, which contained an article by Patrice Madura Ward-Steinman about Madura’s Danceland. Located at the once popular area of Hammond known as Five Points, Madura’s opened in October 1929 (right before the stock market crash) and stayed in business until 1967, when a fire destroyed the building. During that time big bands eventually gave way to rock ‘n’ roll shows. Among the photos used by TRACES is one of the Kinsmen posing next to a big crown. Governor Welsh asked the Indiana Broadcasters Association to ban their 1964 hit “Louie, Louie” from being played on the radio because of rumors that the lyrics were obscene. In fact, the FBI spent 31 months trying to find out what the garbled vocals were. Some claimed “gotta go” was really “grab her down low.” The song is about a lonely sailor pining for his girl, but dirty-minded critics mistook “On the ship I dream she there; I smell the rose in her hair” for “On that chair I lay her there; I felt my boner in her hair.”
Near Madura’s was Phil Schmidt’s Restaurant (known for its frogs legs), a gambling emporium known as the Big House, and Lever Brothers Plant. We ate at Phil Schmidt’s shortly after coming to Northwest Indiana. It closed in 2007 after 97 years in business, ironically a casualty in part of an overpass from Indianapolis Boulevard to Horseshoe Casino. Ward-Steinman also put out an Arcadia Press book about Madura’s; Steve McShane helped her with photos from our Archives collection.
“Tower Heist” was unrealistic and only moderately interesting, but I found Eddie Murphy quite funny as hustler Slide and Gabourey Sidibe (who starred in “Precious”) pretty sexy for one who must weigh well over 300 pounds. Ben Stiller is always fun when playing someone under duress, but Alan Alda was not a very convincing villain.
The new “Vanity Fair” with Johnny Depp on the cover has an interesting article by Nathaniel Philbrick about Herman Melville’s “Moby-Dick.” He includes this quote by the narrator Ishmael, the only survivor from the whaling ship “Pequod” commanded by the one-legged Captain Ahab, bent on revenge against the white whale responsible for the missing appendage. “There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody’s expense but his own.” “Moby-Dick” only sold a few thousand copies when first published, but it is now recognized as perhaps the greatest work of American literature.
Checked out “Wonder Girl” by Don Van Natta, a biography of Babe Didrikson, the greatest American woman athlete ever. She was the track and field star of the 1932 Olympics and excelled in basketball, baseball, and golf – in fact, in every sport she took up. Coming from a poor family living in Port Arthur, Texas, she was seen as a threat to the demure image of female athletes and by the establishment that ran amateur sports and, like Jim Thorpe, barred from numerous competitions because she had to earn money in order for her family to survive during the Great Depression. Sportswriter Grantland Rice championed her, but more typical was this snipt from the New York World-Telegram’s Joe Williams that “It would be much better if she and her ilk stayed at home, got themselves prettied up and waited for the phone to ring.” She won the woman’s Grand Slam of golf in 1950 and served as President of the LPGA for three years before succumbing to colon cancer in 1956 at the age of 45. Author Van Natta points out that Babe was the first woman to find success as a professional athlete. After Gertrude Ederle swam the English Channel, New Yorkers honored her with a ticker tape parade, but no lucrative offers followed and she died in obscurity.
I finally watched the excellent HBO documentary “Sing Your Song” about calypso singer Harry Belafonte. Inspired by Paul Robeson, he combined a successful singing career with a half-century of activism on behalf of civil rights and world hunger. For his trouble the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover had him under surveillance along with Martin Luther King and other activists. He was at the 1963 March on Washington when MLK delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. He risked his life traveling to Mississippi during Freedom Summer, 1964, and he organized celebrities to participate in the Selma to Montgomery march the following year. During the 1980s, like Gary mayor Richard Hatcher, he went to jail protesting the apartheid policies of the South African government.
We had James and Rebecca overnight while Dave and Angie chaperoned the East Chicago Central High School turnabout dance. I cooked pancakes and kielbasa for breakfast before gaming at Dave’s. I was one for four, winning Acquire. My football picks and Fantasy team fared poorly, and I fell asleep before “Boardwalk Empire” came on. Fortunately I can catch it on DVR.
Reporter Andy Grimm, who writes for the Chicago Tribune, interviewed me about Gary’s financial crisis. For several years the fear has been that the city would become insolvent and even might have to go into some kind of receivership or un-incorporate, if such a thing is possible. Now with a new state property tax in effect, it appears that other Indiana cities could be in the same boat. Andy wanted some political perspective concerning high and low points in Gary’s history. I brought up the 1930s when only federal help bailed the city out – what is drastically needed today. Another low point was 1995, when Governor Evan Bayh sent in state troopers to deal with the supposedly out-of-control crime, gangs, and drugs. Also that year Black voters were so pessimistic about the future that they helped elect white criminal attorney Scott King mayor, a man with almost no past record of civic involvement. The attitude among many was, well, we tried the Black Pride thing with Richard Hatcher and the reach-out-to-the-surrounding-communities approach with Tom Barnes, so maybe a white mayor will get attention and bring investment to the city. All the city ended up getting were an expensive stadium, a beauty pageant for a couple years, and casino boats that drained away more money than gained from tax revenues. The credit, if that is the right word, for the boats should go to the Barnes administration – their presence was one reason gaining control of City Hall had looked attractive to King.
I met Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes and bowled three games, another poor performance but maybe I learned a few things that I can put to use in the league Wednesday. After chicken, noodles, and corn on the cob, I watched the Bears win a close one against the Philadelphia Eagles, the league’s most disappointing team so far.
Me gotta go.”
Kingsmen
At the Portage Library I came across the Summer 2011 issue of TRACES, which contained an article by Patrice Madura Ward-Steinman about Madura’s Danceland. Located at the once popular area of Hammond known as Five Points, Madura’s opened in October 1929 (right before the stock market crash) and stayed in business until 1967, when a fire destroyed the building. During that time big bands eventually gave way to rock ‘n’ roll shows. Among the photos used by TRACES is one of the Kinsmen posing next to a big crown. Governor Welsh asked the Indiana Broadcasters Association to ban their 1964 hit “Louie, Louie” from being played on the radio because of rumors that the lyrics were obscene. In fact, the FBI spent 31 months trying to find out what the garbled vocals were. Some claimed “gotta go” was really “grab her down low.” The song is about a lonely sailor pining for his girl, but dirty-minded critics mistook “On the ship I dream she there; I smell the rose in her hair” for “On that chair I lay her there; I felt my boner in her hair.”
Near Madura’s was Phil Schmidt’s Restaurant (known for its frogs legs), a gambling emporium known as the Big House, and Lever Brothers Plant. We ate at Phil Schmidt’s shortly after coming to Northwest Indiana. It closed in 2007 after 97 years in business, ironically a casualty in part of an overpass from Indianapolis Boulevard to Horseshoe Casino. Ward-Steinman also put out an Arcadia Press book about Madura’s; Steve McShane helped her with photos from our Archives collection.
“Tower Heist” was unrealistic and only moderately interesting, but I found Eddie Murphy quite funny as hustler Slide and Gabourey Sidibe (who starred in “Precious”) pretty sexy for one who must weigh well over 300 pounds. Ben Stiller is always fun when playing someone under duress, but Alan Alda was not a very convincing villain.
The new “Vanity Fair” with Johnny Depp on the cover has an interesting article by Nathaniel Philbrick about Herman Melville’s “Moby-Dick.” He includes this quote by the narrator Ishmael, the only survivor from the whaling ship “Pequod” commanded by the one-legged Captain Ahab, bent on revenge against the white whale responsible for the missing appendage. “There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody’s expense but his own.” “Moby-Dick” only sold a few thousand copies when first published, but it is now recognized as perhaps the greatest work of American literature.
Checked out “Wonder Girl” by Don Van Natta, a biography of Babe Didrikson, the greatest American woman athlete ever. She was the track and field star of the 1932 Olympics and excelled in basketball, baseball, and golf – in fact, in every sport she took up. Coming from a poor family living in Port Arthur, Texas, she was seen as a threat to the demure image of female athletes and by the establishment that ran amateur sports and, like Jim Thorpe, barred from numerous competitions because she had to earn money in order for her family to survive during the Great Depression. Sportswriter Grantland Rice championed her, but more typical was this snipt from the New York World-Telegram’s Joe Williams that “It would be much better if she and her ilk stayed at home, got themselves prettied up and waited for the phone to ring.” She won the woman’s Grand Slam of golf in 1950 and served as President of the LPGA for three years before succumbing to colon cancer in 1956 at the age of 45. Author Van Natta points out that Babe was the first woman to find success as a professional athlete. After Gertrude Ederle swam the English Channel, New Yorkers honored her with a ticker tape parade, but no lucrative offers followed and she died in obscurity.
I finally watched the excellent HBO documentary “Sing Your Song” about calypso singer Harry Belafonte. Inspired by Paul Robeson, he combined a successful singing career with a half-century of activism on behalf of civil rights and world hunger. For his trouble the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover had him under surveillance along with Martin Luther King and other activists. He was at the 1963 March on Washington when MLK delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. He risked his life traveling to Mississippi during Freedom Summer, 1964, and he organized celebrities to participate in the Selma to Montgomery march the following year. During the 1980s, like Gary mayor Richard Hatcher, he went to jail protesting the apartheid policies of the South African government.
We had James and Rebecca overnight while Dave and Angie chaperoned the East Chicago Central High School turnabout dance. I cooked pancakes and kielbasa for breakfast before gaming at Dave’s. I was one for four, winning Acquire. My football picks and Fantasy team fared poorly, and I fell asleep before “Boardwalk Empire” came on. Fortunately I can catch it on DVR.
Reporter Andy Grimm, who writes for the Chicago Tribune, interviewed me about Gary’s financial crisis. For several years the fear has been that the city would become insolvent and even might have to go into some kind of receivership or un-incorporate, if such a thing is possible. Now with a new state property tax in effect, it appears that other Indiana cities could be in the same boat. Andy wanted some political perspective concerning high and low points in Gary’s history. I brought up the 1930s when only federal help bailed the city out – what is drastically needed today. Another low point was 1995, when Governor Evan Bayh sent in state troopers to deal with the supposedly out-of-control crime, gangs, and drugs. Also that year Black voters were so pessimistic about the future that they helped elect white criminal attorney Scott King mayor, a man with almost no past record of civic involvement. The attitude among many was, well, we tried the Black Pride thing with Richard Hatcher and the reach-out-to-the-surrounding-communities approach with Tom Barnes, so maybe a white mayor will get attention and bring investment to the city. All the city ended up getting were an expensive stadium, a beauty pageant for a couple years, and casino boats that drained away more money than gained from tax revenues. The credit, if that is the right word, for the boats should go to the Barnes administration – their presence was one reason gaining control of City Hall had looked attractive to King.
I met Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes and bowled three games, another poor performance but maybe I learned a few things that I can put to use in the league Wednesday. After chicken, noodles, and corn on the cob, I watched the Bears win a close one against the Philadelphia Eagles, the league’s most disappointing team so far.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Being Gay in Israel
“Is it just destiny
Or is it just a game
In my mind, Sharona?”
The Knack
At the Robin Hass Birky Women’s Studies Room in IUN’s Savannah Center I heard two people talk on the subject of “Being Gay in Israel.” They were with a group called Hoshen, which is also the name of a sacred Hebrew breastplate and a word derived from the Hebrew word for beautiful. On the group website I learned that Hoshen is the Hebrew acronym for "Education and Change" and the education center of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) community in Israel. Israeli laws are evidently very tolerant toward gays except regarding marriage, which is governed by religious precepts and even discriminates against Jews marrying non-Jews. Someone noted that Tel Aviv is the third most popular gay party town, right behind San Francisco and Bangkok. One speaker, Irit Tzvelli, mentioned that the group works with schools and even does workshops with kindergarten teachers to be more sensitive toward kids with same-sex parents. Irit said she came out of the closet around age 24 and that her mother took it OK except that when she subsequently dated a guy, the mother was really hoping that she’d get married and have children so she wouldn’t be lonely when she got older. She subsequently bonded with another lesbian, but they have three kids via adoption and in vitro fertilization, so the old lady is OK with the situation. Several people from Temple Israel were there, including Rabbi Halpern and Robin Rich. I talked to one guy who was a History major in the early 1970s and took all of Ron Cohen’s courses.
After the talk Anne Balay, a student named Christine, and I had drinks at TGIF in Merrillville. Having recently moved from Hyde Park to Miller, Anne seemed unfamiliar with the commercial district along Route 30. Both she and Christine were teenagers during the 1980s, and we ended up talking about music and movies from that era. It seems like they were hot for some of the same women celebrities that I had found sexy, such as Joan Jett and Debra Winger. Coincidentally, one of Debra’s first movies was “Thank God It’s Friday,” the name of the restaurant we were at. I told them I loved Winger in “Reality Bites,” especially the scene in Seven/Eleven when they dance to “My Sharona.” I offered to loan Anne my “Reality Bites” soundtrack CD, which contains songs by Lenny Kravitz (“Spinning Around Over You”). Dinosaur, Jr. (“Turnip Farm”), and Squeeze (“Tempted”).
I’ve been asked by the director of IUN’s Center for Urban and Regional Excellence to talk about Gary history to a group of around a dozen high school students who are involved in an urban renewal project. For my trouble I’ll get to eat pizza. I said yes.
The Engineers bowled a team that was so good they had to give us over 200 pins handicap. In the first game, thanks to John Bulot rolling a 231, the Engineers beat them by over 160 pins.
Ron Cohen was in the Archives because, like me, he was going to a luncheon for IUN faculty who had published a book within the last two years. He informed the campus that Gary native and Nobel laureate in economics Joseph Stiglitz addressed the Occupy Wall Street protestors, telling them “"You are right to be indignant. The fact is that the system is not working right. It is not right that we have so many people without jobs when we have so many needs that we have to fulfill. It's not right that we are throwing people out of their houses when we have so many homeless people. Our financial markets have an important role to play. They're supposed to allocate capital, manage risks. We are bearing the costs of their misdeeds. There's a system where we've socialized losses and privatized gains. That's not capitalism; that's not a market economy. That's a distorted economy, and if we continue with that, we won't succeed in growing, and we won't succeed in creating a just society."
At the luncheon I sat next to mathematician Stela Pudar-Hozo and Health and Human Services director Pat Bankston. Pat mentioned seeing former chancellor Peggy Elliott at a charity function for Methodist Hospitals and that she is presently working in Texas. There’s evidently an index of retired university officials who can offer their services to fill in at universities that need interim administrators. Pat reported that she looked great and was as vivacious as ever. Pat talked about running unsuccessfully as a Republican for Porter County Commissioner. I told him that one local Republican I could vote for was State Senator Ed Charbonneau, who served with me on the Gary Centennial Committee. Mark Hoyert heard me and feigned shock that I’d vote Republican. I told him the last Republican I voted for other than locally was Pennsylvania Senator Hugh Scott in 1968, and I came to regret it when in 1972 he called George McGovern the Triple-A candidate for abortion, amnesty and acid. Disgusting. The last one he voted for was Maryland Senator Charles “Mac” Mathias, who clashed frequently with Nixon.
Eva Mendietta showed me the cover of the Spanish language version of her book about Catalina de Erauso, a former nun who posed as a man and had a swashbuckling military career during the seventeenth century. The shot was taken in the interior of the old, abandoned City Methodist Church.
Following the luncheon sculptor Neil Goodman, recipient of the 2011 outstanding scholar award, gave an informative lecture based largely on the pieces he did for IUN’s sculpture garden. Chris Young told me that two of his students who are giving a paper in two weeks on the Elbert H. Gary statue and the Michael Jackson monument want to interview me tomorrow or Monday.
I got a call from Ray and Trish Arredondo from Arizona State University, where they had given a talk to students who had been assigned “Maria’s Journey.” They were having lunch with old friend and co-editor of “Forging a Community” Ed Escobar. Small world. Ed filled me in on how his family is doing and invited us to visit them. The last time I saw him was in Indianapolis when we were on a panel together at a history conference. Ray and Trish said their talk went very well.
Or is it just a game
In my mind, Sharona?”
The Knack
At the Robin Hass Birky Women’s Studies Room in IUN’s Savannah Center I heard two people talk on the subject of “Being Gay in Israel.” They were with a group called Hoshen, which is also the name of a sacred Hebrew breastplate and a word derived from the Hebrew word for beautiful. On the group website I learned that Hoshen is the Hebrew acronym for "Education and Change" and the education center of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) community in Israel. Israeli laws are evidently very tolerant toward gays except regarding marriage, which is governed by religious precepts and even discriminates against Jews marrying non-Jews. Someone noted that Tel Aviv is the third most popular gay party town, right behind San Francisco and Bangkok. One speaker, Irit Tzvelli, mentioned that the group works with schools and even does workshops with kindergarten teachers to be more sensitive toward kids with same-sex parents. Irit said she came out of the closet around age 24 and that her mother took it OK except that when she subsequently dated a guy, the mother was really hoping that she’d get married and have children so she wouldn’t be lonely when she got older. She subsequently bonded with another lesbian, but they have three kids via adoption and in vitro fertilization, so the old lady is OK with the situation. Several people from Temple Israel were there, including Rabbi Halpern and Robin Rich. I talked to one guy who was a History major in the early 1970s and took all of Ron Cohen’s courses.
After the talk Anne Balay, a student named Christine, and I had drinks at TGIF in Merrillville. Having recently moved from Hyde Park to Miller, Anne seemed unfamiliar with the commercial district along Route 30. Both she and Christine were teenagers during the 1980s, and we ended up talking about music and movies from that era. It seems like they were hot for some of the same women celebrities that I had found sexy, such as Joan Jett and Debra Winger. Coincidentally, one of Debra’s first movies was “Thank God It’s Friday,” the name of the restaurant we were at. I told them I loved Winger in “Reality Bites,” especially the scene in Seven/Eleven when they dance to “My Sharona.” I offered to loan Anne my “Reality Bites” soundtrack CD, which contains songs by Lenny Kravitz (“Spinning Around Over You”). Dinosaur, Jr. (“Turnip Farm”), and Squeeze (“Tempted”).
I’ve been asked by the director of IUN’s Center for Urban and Regional Excellence to talk about Gary history to a group of around a dozen high school students who are involved in an urban renewal project. For my trouble I’ll get to eat pizza. I said yes.
The Engineers bowled a team that was so good they had to give us over 200 pins handicap. In the first game, thanks to John Bulot rolling a 231, the Engineers beat them by over 160 pins.
Ron Cohen was in the Archives because, like me, he was going to a luncheon for IUN faculty who had published a book within the last two years. He informed the campus that Gary native and Nobel laureate in economics Joseph Stiglitz addressed the Occupy Wall Street protestors, telling them “"You are right to be indignant. The fact is that the system is not working right. It is not right that we have so many people without jobs when we have so many needs that we have to fulfill. It's not right that we are throwing people out of their houses when we have so many homeless people. Our financial markets have an important role to play. They're supposed to allocate capital, manage risks. We are bearing the costs of their misdeeds. There's a system where we've socialized losses and privatized gains. That's not capitalism; that's not a market economy. That's a distorted economy, and if we continue with that, we won't succeed in growing, and we won't succeed in creating a just society."
At the luncheon I sat next to mathematician Stela Pudar-Hozo and Health and Human Services director Pat Bankston. Pat mentioned seeing former chancellor Peggy Elliott at a charity function for Methodist Hospitals and that she is presently working in Texas. There’s evidently an index of retired university officials who can offer their services to fill in at universities that need interim administrators. Pat reported that she looked great and was as vivacious as ever. Pat talked about running unsuccessfully as a Republican for Porter County Commissioner. I told him that one local Republican I could vote for was State Senator Ed Charbonneau, who served with me on the Gary Centennial Committee. Mark Hoyert heard me and feigned shock that I’d vote Republican. I told him the last Republican I voted for other than locally was Pennsylvania Senator Hugh Scott in 1968, and I came to regret it when in 1972 he called George McGovern the Triple-A candidate for abortion, amnesty and acid. Disgusting. The last one he voted for was Maryland Senator Charles “Mac” Mathias, who clashed frequently with Nixon.
Eva Mendietta showed me the cover of the Spanish language version of her book about Catalina de Erauso, a former nun who posed as a man and had a swashbuckling military career during the seventeenth century. The shot was taken in the interior of the old, abandoned City Methodist Church.
Following the luncheon sculptor Neil Goodman, recipient of the 2011 outstanding scholar award, gave an informative lecture based largely on the pieces he did for IUN’s sculpture garden. Chris Young told me that two of his students who are giving a paper in two weeks on the Elbert H. Gary statue and the Michael Jackson monument want to interview me tomorrow or Monday.
I got a call from Ray and Trish Arredondo from Arizona State University, where they had given a talk to students who had been assigned “Maria’s Journey.” They were having lunch with old friend and co-editor of “Forging a Community” Ed Escobar. Small world. Ed filled me in on how his family is doing and invited us to visit them. The last time I saw him was in Indianapolis when we were on a panel together at a history conference. Ray and Trish said their talk went very well.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Pop Up Art
Up and down Lake Street in Gary’s Miller Beach business district on Saturday from 6 until 9 local artists displayed their wares at a dozen different locations. After having Chinese food at Dick and Cheryl Hagelbergs, we started out at the old Miller Drugs, where Corey Hagelberg and seven others had hung their work. I had not been there since owner Frank had finally given up trying to compete with the big pharmacy chains. Thirty years ago, I persuaded him to offer “Gary: A Pictorial History” for sale, and he ended up unloading about 200 copies. A big crowd was on hand, including most of our Miller friends, including Nancy and Ron Cohen, Omar Farag, Kay and Bud Rosen, Karren and Pat Lee, Tom Eaton and Pat Conlin, Cindy Fredrick, Bill and Terry Payonk, Gene and Judy Ayers, Jim and Elaine Spicer, and Tanice Foltz in a belly dancer outfit under her coat (she was going to a Halloween Party later). Laura Kittle, who works at IUN, waved, but she was gone before I had a chance to talk with her. Down the street in Curves, a fitness center, were Al and Alice Sasek, who was displaying some of her glass pieces. Joyce’s Lake Street Gallery was packed, and she had art displayed on the surprisingly large second floor area. Even Miller Pizza had pieces on display; we ran into old friend Ramon there. Most places had wines and snacks, but we saved enough room for pumpkin pie when we got back to the Hagelbergs.
Had my best gaming day in months, winning three of four, including a rare victory in Stone Age by playing the starvation strategy. I lucked out in Acquire when both Dave and Tom spent the bulk of their original $6,000 on Continental stock, each thinking the other had the merging tile. The only reason I stayed out of the race was that I would have been doomed to finish third. Instead I bought stock in the company involved in the first merger, while Continental languished.
The Republican primary race is getting stranger and stranger. Establishment candidate Mitt Romney excites nobody, and Texas governor Rick Perry keeps sinking in the polls like a lead balloon and is even behind pizza man Herman Cain in the Lone Star State. Liberal and conservative commentators alike are outraged by a Cain ad where campaign aide Mark Block is shown smoking, but it certainly generated much publicity. The press loves to build someone up and then tear him down. The latest revelation is that two women filed sexual harassment grievances against him 15 years ago while he was head of the National Restaurant Association. He called the accusations false and at first claimed to be unaware of any settlement paid to his accusers before acknowledging that he knew about an agreement.
My review of the Thyra Edwards biography is taking shape. Her sister was the saintly Thelma Marshall, longtime director of Lake County Children’s Home, who co-chaired the local chapter of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom when Toni and I moved to Gary. It was the most active area antiwar group, and both Toni and I joined as a way to protest the Vietnam fiasco. Thelma’s son was Shakespearean actor William Marshall, blacklisted for his radical views and most famous, ironically for playing “Blacula” in that Black exploitation flick.
I sent this email to Ray Smock: “It looks like Herman Cain is a victim of a high-tech lynching, just like his favorite Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas. It was inevitable that when Cain didn’t quickly fade away like Trump, Bachman and Perry, his sex life would get examined. Much as I loathe Clarence Thomas, I never saw Anita Hill as being all that much of a victim. She could have walked away when he started talking about “Long Dong Silver” and pubic hair, simply told him to shut up, or, better yet, slapped him upside his head. Many Black guys of our generation banter about sex, even in mixed company, in a way that might be offensive to feminists and faint-of-hearts. If crudeness disqualified one for the presidency, only wimps would be left to choose from (to paraphrase Doris Kearns Goodwin at the time of Clinton’s impeachment). If Cain did something out of bounds, OK, let’s hear about it, but the press is taking the bullshit position that what matters more that what he might have done is whether he is being evasive or covering it up.”
I added, “The climate in Washington, vis a vis Obama, reminds me of Chicago after Harold Washington was elected mayor – the losers were determined never to cooperate or acknowledge his legitimacy. MSNBC has this blurb where “Morning Joe” Scarborough is talking with Bill Clinton and claims that as much as Republicans fought him, they were able to work for the common good. In the original interview, knowing that is bullshit, Clinton looks Joe in the eye and with a grin replies, “Well, you did shut the government down twice and vote to impeach me.”
Ray replied that we’ll soon find out with the Cain thing whether it was just a case of two disgruntled employees or if sexual harassment was a pattern in his life. Regarding Morning Joe, he wrote: “The bit I have seen on Morning Joe, which I catch every day, has Clinton saying that working with Republicans when Scarborough was there was productive. I have not seen the part where he talks about the shut downs and the impeachment. Maybe they edited that part out. Scarborough was one of Newt’s hotheads when he was in the House. He has grown up some since he left Congress. People can change and I certainly don’t despise Joe now like I did when he was in the House. We both have changed. I see the concept of Change writ large in Senator Byrd’s career. From Klansman to Statesman. But some people, especially our dear friends in academic life, cannot forgive Byrd. I hated Byrd in the 60s and 70s. I was diametrically opposed to his positions on Civil Rights and later his superhawk support of the Vietnam War. He will never be fully redeemed for his past positions, but that does not mean we shouldn’t try to see his full context over a half century. It is a very human story, and his career represents some of the major transitions that occurred in American society in our lifetimes.”
Halloween at the condo was much fun. We took our candy and joined neighbor Sue Harrison, who had her garage door up and was seated with her friend Dave and a big bowl of candy. Toni also took over chili. Our front door is somewhat obscured from view, so this way trick-or-treaters could get a double dose at one place. Ken and Christine, whose unit is between Sue’s and ours, were also passing out treats after they arrived home about halfway through the two-hour period. I asked most people who they were, and one guy said, “Jason.” I thought he misunderstood me and was telling me his name, but Toni clued me in that he was referring to the villain in the “Friday the 13th” films.
The Anthropology dollar book sale is underway, and I found a 1997 issue of the literary magazine “Spirits” had contained a poem by Bill Buckley entitled “Down from Walgreen’s” and an essay about shopping and musical tastes by George Bodmer, where he recalled driving into Toronto listening to a Doors tape. Dr. Mucci said someone donated a copy of Steve and my book “Skinning Cats” and said that copies were going for ten bucks on Amazon. I donated “Shavings” issues on the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Mucci claims my magazines always go fast. We’ll see.
Had my best gaming day in months, winning three of four, including a rare victory in Stone Age by playing the starvation strategy. I lucked out in Acquire when both Dave and Tom spent the bulk of their original $6,000 on Continental stock, each thinking the other had the merging tile. The only reason I stayed out of the race was that I would have been doomed to finish third. Instead I bought stock in the company involved in the first merger, while Continental languished.
The Republican primary race is getting stranger and stranger. Establishment candidate Mitt Romney excites nobody, and Texas governor Rick Perry keeps sinking in the polls like a lead balloon and is even behind pizza man Herman Cain in the Lone Star State. Liberal and conservative commentators alike are outraged by a Cain ad where campaign aide Mark Block is shown smoking, but it certainly generated much publicity. The press loves to build someone up and then tear him down. The latest revelation is that two women filed sexual harassment grievances against him 15 years ago while he was head of the National Restaurant Association. He called the accusations false and at first claimed to be unaware of any settlement paid to his accusers before acknowledging that he knew about an agreement.
My review of the Thyra Edwards biography is taking shape. Her sister was the saintly Thelma Marshall, longtime director of Lake County Children’s Home, who co-chaired the local chapter of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom when Toni and I moved to Gary. It was the most active area antiwar group, and both Toni and I joined as a way to protest the Vietnam fiasco. Thelma’s son was Shakespearean actor William Marshall, blacklisted for his radical views and most famous, ironically for playing “Blacula” in that Black exploitation flick.
I sent this email to Ray Smock: “It looks like Herman Cain is a victim of a high-tech lynching, just like his favorite Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas. It was inevitable that when Cain didn’t quickly fade away like Trump, Bachman and Perry, his sex life would get examined. Much as I loathe Clarence Thomas, I never saw Anita Hill as being all that much of a victim. She could have walked away when he started talking about “Long Dong Silver” and pubic hair, simply told him to shut up, or, better yet, slapped him upside his head. Many Black guys of our generation banter about sex, even in mixed company, in a way that might be offensive to feminists and faint-of-hearts. If crudeness disqualified one for the presidency, only wimps would be left to choose from (to paraphrase Doris Kearns Goodwin at the time of Clinton’s impeachment). If Cain did something out of bounds, OK, let’s hear about it, but the press is taking the bullshit position that what matters more that what he might have done is whether he is being evasive or covering it up.”
I added, “The climate in Washington, vis a vis Obama, reminds me of Chicago after Harold Washington was elected mayor – the losers were determined never to cooperate or acknowledge his legitimacy. MSNBC has this blurb where “Morning Joe” Scarborough is talking with Bill Clinton and claims that as much as Republicans fought him, they were able to work for the common good. In the original interview, knowing that is bullshit, Clinton looks Joe in the eye and with a grin replies, “Well, you did shut the government down twice and vote to impeach me.”
Ray replied that we’ll soon find out with the Cain thing whether it was just a case of two disgruntled employees or if sexual harassment was a pattern in his life. Regarding Morning Joe, he wrote: “The bit I have seen on Morning Joe, which I catch every day, has Clinton saying that working with Republicans when Scarborough was there was productive. I have not seen the part where he talks about the shut downs and the impeachment. Maybe they edited that part out. Scarborough was one of Newt’s hotheads when he was in the House. He has grown up some since he left Congress. People can change and I certainly don’t despise Joe now like I did when he was in the House. We both have changed. I see the concept of Change writ large in Senator Byrd’s career. From Klansman to Statesman. But some people, especially our dear friends in academic life, cannot forgive Byrd. I hated Byrd in the 60s and 70s. I was diametrically opposed to his positions on Civil Rights and later his superhawk support of the Vietnam War. He will never be fully redeemed for his past positions, but that does not mean we shouldn’t try to see his full context over a half century. It is a very human story, and his career represents some of the major transitions that occurred in American society in our lifetimes.”
Halloween at the condo was much fun. We took our candy and joined neighbor Sue Harrison, who had her garage door up and was seated with her friend Dave and a big bowl of candy. Toni also took over chili. Our front door is somewhat obscured from view, so this way trick-or-treaters could get a double dose at one place. Ken and Christine, whose unit is between Sue’s and ours, were also passing out treats after they arrived home about halfway through the two-hour period. I asked most people who they were, and one guy said, “Jason.” I thought he misunderstood me and was telling me his name, but Toni clued me in that he was referring to the villain in the “Friday the 13th” films.
The Anthropology dollar book sale is underway, and I found a 1997 issue of the literary magazine “Spirits” had contained a poem by Bill Buckley entitled “Down from Walgreen’s” and an essay about shopping and musical tastes by George Bodmer, where he recalled driving into Toronto listening to a Doors tape. Dr. Mucci said someone donated a copy of Steve and my book “Skinning Cats” and said that copies were going for ten bucks on Amazon. I donated “Shavings” issues on the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Mucci claims my magazines always go fast. We’ll see.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Mildred Gruenenfelder
Mildred Gruenenfelder, friend and former bridge player in our monthly group, passed away at age 89. The obit mentioned that she worked as a Gary school librarian until age 76 and was a lover of good fiction (a nice touch). Husband Jack taught philosophy at IUN until he was at least that old. The last time I was at the Burns Funeral Home in Hobart was when one of their sons died. Mil was a gentle soul who enjoyed reading my Shavings magazines and loaned me a couple of Graham Greene novels. At the funeral home were son Tom, who lives in Bloomington with his wife, and Dawn Marie (formerly Vivian), who is a Buddhist monk.
Sheriff Dominguez and I finished going over the copy editor’s suggestions for his autobiography “Valor.” She found it very clean, and our main task was to make the spelling of words consistent (such as Rosie, the nickname for his sister Rosario) and to clarify things that were slightly vague or unexplained. We agreed with most everything the editor did except when she changed the capital N to lower case in Northwest Indiana. Roy found “Valor” listed as “Forthcoming” on the IU Press website that also contained a brief description of it and short author bios of the Sheriff and me. April 12 was given as the date of publication. People can order it right now.
I got an email from a Marion Uecker, who read my blog and hoped I could provide info about Gary ancestors, including Herman Uecker, a cashier killed in 1919 during a bank robbery and his widow Louise a teacher at Beveridge School. I wrote back: “Herman is mentioned in Ronald Cohen’s book “Children of the Mill” because he was a school board member at the time. The 1926 city directory lists Louise as a teacher and widow of Herman residing at 552 Van Buren. The 1930 directory has her in an apartment at 1902 W Fifth with daughter Marion sten (stenographer?). Next to Marion’s name is A. L. Anchors. Albert L. Anchors was one Gary’s pioneer residents and built apartments on the West Side, so perhaps the A.L. Anchors refers to the owner. The 1941 directory lists Louise’s residence as 805 Madison.
Mike Certa ran into an old friend of ours, Karen Orr, at a wake for a mutual friend. I’d have loved to have seen her. She and then-husband Tom took us on a ten-day cruise of the Virgin Islands around 30 years ago. Tom was a softball teammate and sailed the boat nearly across the Atlantic when it was struck by a submarine and sank. A Portuguese fisherman rescued him. Karen was quite beautiful and voluptuous and a Nursing student at IUN when I first started teaching.
It was taco day (my favorite) at IUN. In the cafeteria were regulars Alan Lindmark, Jean Poulard, Chuck Gallmeier, Kurt Nelson, and Bill Dorin. Ran into Jon Briggs and Anne Balay near the History office. I told Anne I was looking forward to hearing guest speaker Irit Tzvelli speak on “Being Gay in Israel” next Wednesday. She suggested we have lunch afterward.
I bowled poorly but the Engineers won 5 of 7 points, the seventh time we did that this year. Three weeks we were shut out, so our record is 35-35, not bad for a bunch of geezers. The team only had 32 strikes after 29 frames, but we had 8 strikes in the final frame, amazing especially since Frank, our best bowler, didn’t have any of them.
Sheriff Dominguez and I finished going over the copy editor’s suggestions for his autobiography “Valor.” She found it very clean, and our main task was to make the spelling of words consistent (such as Rosie, the nickname for his sister Rosario) and to clarify things that were slightly vague or unexplained. We agreed with most everything the editor did except when she changed the capital N to lower case in Northwest Indiana. Roy found “Valor” listed as “Forthcoming” on the IU Press website that also contained a brief description of it and short author bios of the Sheriff and me. April 12 was given as the date of publication. People can order it right now.
I got an email from a Marion Uecker, who read my blog and hoped I could provide info about Gary ancestors, including Herman Uecker, a cashier killed in 1919 during a bank robbery and his widow Louise a teacher at Beveridge School. I wrote back: “Herman is mentioned in Ronald Cohen’s book “Children of the Mill” because he was a school board member at the time. The 1926 city directory lists Louise as a teacher and widow of Herman residing at 552 Van Buren. The 1930 directory has her in an apartment at 1902 W Fifth with daughter Marion sten (stenographer?). Next to Marion’s name is A. L. Anchors. Albert L. Anchors was one Gary’s pioneer residents and built apartments on the West Side, so perhaps the A.L. Anchors refers to the owner. The 1941 directory lists Louise’s residence as 805 Madison.
Mike Certa ran into an old friend of ours, Karen Orr, at a wake for a mutual friend. I’d have loved to have seen her. She and then-husband Tom took us on a ten-day cruise of the Virgin Islands around 30 years ago. Tom was a softball teammate and sailed the boat nearly across the Atlantic when it was struck by a submarine and sank. A Portuguese fisherman rescued him. Karen was quite beautiful and voluptuous and a Nursing student at IUN when I first started teaching.
It was taco day (my favorite) at IUN. In the cafeteria were regulars Alan Lindmark, Jean Poulard, Chuck Gallmeier, Kurt Nelson, and Bill Dorin. Ran into Jon Briggs and Anne Balay near the History office. I told Anne I was looking forward to hearing guest speaker Irit Tzvelli speak on “Being Gay in Israel” next Wednesday. She suggested we have lunch afterward.
I bowled poorly but the Engineers won 5 of 7 points, the seventh time we did that this year. Three weeks we were shut out, so our record is 35-35, not bad for a bunch of geezers. The team only had 32 strikes after 29 frames, but we had 8 strikes in the final frame, amazing especially since Frank, our best bowler, didn’t have any of them.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Champagne Cellars of Mareuil
“Caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova.”
Oasis
Jean Poulard gave me a copy of his book “The Champagne Cellars of Mareuil: The Story of a Family and a Village.” Jean was born in 1939, and the Nazis took over his French village soon afterwards. The Germans occupied the village after the French leader Marshal Petain signed a humiliating treaty in June of 1940. They forced several dozen young men to go to forced labor camps in Germany. I prrofread the manuscript for him and his inscription reads: “To Jim Lane to whom I owe a debt of gratitude for the unfailing collegiality he has always demonstrated to me. Thanks for helping with this endeavor.” I emailed him: “Thank you so much for the awesome book and the thoughtful inscription. It is so great that “Mareuil” was published in English as well as French. You have done a masterful job in keeping alive memories of a family and a village.”
In the prologue Poulard mentions that the village of Mareuil-Sur-Aÿ, located on the right bank of the Marne River, was bombed and had its bridges destroyed and that in July of 1944 he witnessed human corpses being dragged onto its banks. During Allied bombings the wine cellars became a refuge for villagers. Poulard wrote about the Americans liberating Mareuil shortly after the German retreated. Villagers brought them sweets and bottles of champagne and wine and that they were more interested in fresh tomatoes. Two young women who had consorted with German soldiers suffered the humiliation of having their heads shaved. Jean was just five years old at that time. As life returned to normal he recalled following his father on a bike to the family vegetable garden and going for Sunday walks on the bank of the canal observing the fishermen and their catch. He wrote: “There were many pike in the canal. These fish were prized; I loved to eat one when it was well fried.” Poulard’s family moved away from Mareuil in 1949 and after his father died in 1957, Jean came to America with a sister and her American husband. A year later, at age 18, he enlisted in the American army and then pursued a college education at Otterbein College in Ohio before earning advance degrees at the U. of Chicago.
In response to my query Anastasia Churkina, who filmed Steve and me for a short documentary about the decline of Gary, sent a link to the four-minute piece. Steve, who showed her around downtown and got them into the ruins of City Methodist Church, is in it quite a bit while I appear for about five seconds. My only line: Gary’s two growth industries are strip clubs and truck stops.” I’m gone in the blink of an eye.
I’ve been reading “Maggie’s American Dream: The Life and Times of a Black Family by James Comer and plan to have a chapter about Maggie and husband in my “On Their Shoulders” book.
Fred McColly stopped in to see me after planting some winter wheat in his Native American garden. It evidently put good chemicals in the ground and will come up in the early spring.
Returning the Clarence Darrow biography to the Chesterton library I came across Richard M. Lytle’s “The Great Circus Train Wreck of 1918: Tragedy Along the Indiana Lakeshore.” The author is a Hammond library and appears to have done an excellent job. Some 86 people died when an engineer fell asleep and his train plowed into an idle Hagenback-Wallace Circus Train. Steve is going to order it for the Archives.
Good eating this week. Tuesday David bought Chinese food for Angie’s 41st birthday. Wednesday I packed a ham and cheese sandwich and just had yogurt, chips, and cookies for supper since I had a condo association board meeting. Thursday was free Latin food at lunch (yummy and perfectly spiced) and then Toni’s stuffed peppers for dinner, and Friday I bogarded a sandwich and some cookies left over after a Faculty Org meeting that I didn’t attend followed by Toni’s flounder and fried green tomatoes (provided by bowling teammate Frank) for dinner. Saturday was Carpatho-Rusyn food for lunch and chili at Hagelbergs. Sunday Toni made stuffed peppers as the Dick Halelberg came over for the Bears game in London and Cheryl went shopping with Toni.
My talk at the Carpatho-Rusyn anniversary banquet went well. I talked about what Gary was like a hundred years ago. Here’s my opening paragraph: “The first decade of the twentieth century was a period of rapid industrialization in the Midwest and also a time when record numbers of newcomers, almost 9 million of them, emigrated to America. Most were from Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe, including many Eastern Rite Catholics from villages located near the Carpathian Mountains. The first destination for some of these newcomers were coalfield areas in Pennsylvania and Illinois. Before they arrived in Gary to work in the recently completed integrated Steel mills of the United States Steel Corporation, Carpatho-Rusyns pursued opportunities in nearby Indiana Harbor and Whiting, as well as the Windy City of Chicago. This mass migration that furnished Gary with so many hard workers was a result of what historians have labeled push factors and pull factors. In eastern Slovokia, for instance, rural poverty and rapid population growth prodded many adventurous young men to embark on the trans-Atlantic journey. Oppression by Hungarian authorities also contributed to the exodus. Pull factors included the lure of a decent paying job and the affordability of steamship fares. Most of the newcomers to America initially hoped to earn enough money to return home and become landowners. Sometimes there was a chain migration effect. In a letter home one former villager might brag about how well he was doing and convince family and friends to follow in his footsteps.”
My hostess, Charlotte Conjelko, was married to an Eastern Rite priest and knew several former IUN faculty, including Ruth Needleman and Lou Ciminillo. Tim Cuprisin, who originally invited me after coming across my blog, followed me with a brief history of the three churches that were founded in Gary in 1911. Fred Chary, who was at the IUN lunch table, knew Charlotte and Father John from various liberal causes. I mentioned that I was reviewing a book about radical journalist Thyra Edwards and the subject of the Scottsboro trials came up. Michelle Stokely was surprised that I had not heard about the successful Broadway musical called “The Scottsboro Boys.”
The Occupy Wall Street movement has come to Gary. People gathered near City Hall Saturday from one to three. The organizers advised participants to “make your protest peaceful but determined” and suggested singing rather than shouting and not to let provocateurs or the police rattle you. Generally, the Gary police have been friendly and cooperative during past antiwar marches. I know many of the organizers, including Julie Chary and Ed Johnston.
In a champagne supernova.”
Oasis
Jean Poulard gave me a copy of his book “The Champagne Cellars of Mareuil: The Story of a Family and a Village.” Jean was born in 1939, and the Nazis took over his French village soon afterwards. The Germans occupied the village after the French leader Marshal Petain signed a humiliating treaty in June of 1940. They forced several dozen young men to go to forced labor camps in Germany. I prrofread the manuscript for him and his inscription reads: “To Jim Lane to whom I owe a debt of gratitude for the unfailing collegiality he has always demonstrated to me. Thanks for helping with this endeavor.” I emailed him: “Thank you so much for the awesome book and the thoughtful inscription. It is so great that “Mareuil” was published in English as well as French. You have done a masterful job in keeping alive memories of a family and a village.”
In the prologue Poulard mentions that the village of Mareuil-Sur-Aÿ, located on the right bank of the Marne River, was bombed and had its bridges destroyed and that in July of 1944 he witnessed human corpses being dragged onto its banks. During Allied bombings the wine cellars became a refuge for villagers. Poulard wrote about the Americans liberating Mareuil shortly after the German retreated. Villagers brought them sweets and bottles of champagne and wine and that they were more interested in fresh tomatoes. Two young women who had consorted with German soldiers suffered the humiliation of having their heads shaved. Jean was just five years old at that time. As life returned to normal he recalled following his father on a bike to the family vegetable garden and going for Sunday walks on the bank of the canal observing the fishermen and their catch. He wrote: “There were many pike in the canal. These fish were prized; I loved to eat one when it was well fried.” Poulard’s family moved away from Mareuil in 1949 and after his father died in 1957, Jean came to America with a sister and her American husband. A year later, at age 18, he enlisted in the American army and then pursued a college education at Otterbein College in Ohio before earning advance degrees at the U. of Chicago.
In response to my query Anastasia Churkina, who filmed Steve and me for a short documentary about the decline of Gary, sent a link to the four-minute piece. Steve, who showed her around downtown and got them into the ruins of City Methodist Church, is in it quite a bit while I appear for about five seconds. My only line: Gary’s two growth industries are strip clubs and truck stops.” I’m gone in the blink of an eye.
I’ve been reading “Maggie’s American Dream: The Life and Times of a Black Family by James Comer and plan to have a chapter about Maggie and husband in my “On Their Shoulders” book.
Fred McColly stopped in to see me after planting some winter wheat in his Native American garden. It evidently put good chemicals in the ground and will come up in the early spring.
Returning the Clarence Darrow biography to the Chesterton library I came across Richard M. Lytle’s “The Great Circus Train Wreck of 1918: Tragedy Along the Indiana Lakeshore.” The author is a Hammond library and appears to have done an excellent job. Some 86 people died when an engineer fell asleep and his train plowed into an idle Hagenback-Wallace Circus Train. Steve is going to order it for the Archives.
Good eating this week. Tuesday David bought Chinese food for Angie’s 41st birthday. Wednesday I packed a ham and cheese sandwich and just had yogurt, chips, and cookies for supper since I had a condo association board meeting. Thursday was free Latin food at lunch (yummy and perfectly spiced) and then Toni’s stuffed peppers for dinner, and Friday I bogarded a sandwich and some cookies left over after a Faculty Org meeting that I didn’t attend followed by Toni’s flounder and fried green tomatoes (provided by bowling teammate Frank) for dinner. Saturday was Carpatho-Rusyn food for lunch and chili at Hagelbergs. Sunday Toni made stuffed peppers as the Dick Halelberg came over for the Bears game in London and Cheryl went shopping with Toni.
My talk at the Carpatho-Rusyn anniversary banquet went well. I talked about what Gary was like a hundred years ago. Here’s my opening paragraph: “The first decade of the twentieth century was a period of rapid industrialization in the Midwest and also a time when record numbers of newcomers, almost 9 million of them, emigrated to America. Most were from Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe, including many Eastern Rite Catholics from villages located near the Carpathian Mountains. The first destination for some of these newcomers were coalfield areas in Pennsylvania and Illinois. Before they arrived in Gary to work in the recently completed integrated Steel mills of the United States Steel Corporation, Carpatho-Rusyns pursued opportunities in nearby Indiana Harbor and Whiting, as well as the Windy City of Chicago. This mass migration that furnished Gary with so many hard workers was a result of what historians have labeled push factors and pull factors. In eastern Slovokia, for instance, rural poverty and rapid population growth prodded many adventurous young men to embark on the trans-Atlantic journey. Oppression by Hungarian authorities also contributed to the exodus. Pull factors included the lure of a decent paying job and the affordability of steamship fares. Most of the newcomers to America initially hoped to earn enough money to return home and become landowners. Sometimes there was a chain migration effect. In a letter home one former villager might brag about how well he was doing and convince family and friends to follow in his footsteps.”
My hostess, Charlotte Conjelko, was married to an Eastern Rite priest and knew several former IUN faculty, including Ruth Needleman and Lou Ciminillo. Tim Cuprisin, who originally invited me after coming across my blog, followed me with a brief history of the three churches that were founded in Gary in 1911. Fred Chary, who was at the IUN lunch table, knew Charlotte and Father John from various liberal causes. I mentioned that I was reviewing a book about radical journalist Thyra Edwards and the subject of the Scottsboro trials came up. Michelle Stokely was surprised that I had not heard about the successful Broadway musical called “The Scottsboro Boys.”
The Occupy Wall Street movement has come to Gary. People gathered near City Hall Saturday from one to three. The organizers advised participants to “make your protest peaceful but determined” and suggested singing rather than shouting and not to let provocateurs or the police rattle you. Generally, the Gary police have been friendly and cooperative during past antiwar marches. I know many of the organizers, including Julie Chary and Ed Johnston.
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