“I went back to
Ohio but my city was gone
There was no train station, there was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared, all my favorite places
My city had been pulled down, reduced to parking spaces”
There was no train station, there was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared, all my favorite places
My city had been pulled down, reduced to parking spaces”
“My City Was Gone,” The Pretenders
The
Pretenders originally released “My City Was Gone” in 1982 as the “B” side to
their hit “Back on the Chain Gang.” It
makes references to Chrissie Hynde’s hometown of Akron, in particular the
leveling of its historic downtown to make way for an urban plaza, three
skyscrapers and a pair of parking decks. Hynde often referred to it as her Ohio
song, but that was not its title because of Crosby, Still, Nash and Young’s
popular song named “Ohio,” about the 1970 Kent State massacre.
On a
list of the fastest shrinking cities, according to USA Today, half were located in America’s so-called Rustbelt,
including Steubenville and Youngstown, Ohio.
These cities generally have an aging population and are heavily
dependent on manufacturing. Gary was not
listed, as its population has apparently leveled off at around 80,000 after
falling by well over 50 percent from its peak of almost 180,000 in 1960. Thanks to the vision of former mayor Richard
Hatcher and present mayor Karen Freeman-Wilson, Gary is still hanging on
despite the disappearance of many old landmarks and, I optimistically hope,
poised to grow in the event of a change in federal priorities.
David
Goldfield’s new book, “The Gifted Generation: When Government Was Good,” argues
that 1968 was the turning point when the country turned its back on the “commonwealth”
ideal of enhancing opportunity for all Americans and, in particular, the
nation’s urban poor. In the wake of riots
in Watts, Harlem, Newark, and Detroit, and then in dozens of cities (but not
Gary) following the assassination of Martin Luther King, a white backlash vaulted
Richard Nixon to the presidency on the basis of a racist, law-and-order,
Southern strategy. Here’s Goldfield
description of Newark, New Jersey’s sudden transformation:
Newark’s industrial base cratered in the 1960s just
when the migration of poor blacks from the South reached its peak. Urban renewal programs, rather than add to
the housing stock, displaced a higher percentage of poor residents than in any
other city. Office towers and civic
plazas replaced the housing, moving poor families into five massive housing
projects in one section of the city.
As
poor black residents poured into Newark, middle-class whites streamed out. Between the early 1950s and the mid-1960s,
the city had shifted from two-thirds white to two-thirds black, the fastest
population turnaround of any American city except for Detroit and Gary, Indiana. The school system deteriorated, with
substitute teachers instructing one quarter of the classes. Comic books were
the only reading material in some classrooms.
above, shuttered library by Samuel A. Love; below reopening, NWI Times photo by Kale Wilk
Gary’s
downtown library reopened after six years of dormancy. It’s about time! In return, however, the DuBois branch is
closing, and Woodson Library in Miller will reduce its hours. On exhibit on the
second floor are artworks by Felix Maldonado, whom I met at an IUN exhibit of
his work that Ann Fritz curated.
According
to Sonia Purnell’s “Clementine: The Life of Mrs. Winston Churchill” (2015), our February book club selection, Britain’s wartime First Lady was a
“fire watcher” during the London Blitz, perched on a rooftop scanning the sky
during nighttime air raids with binoculars searching for fires caused by German
bombs. Purnell wrote: “Surrounded by the deafening clatter of
gunfire and choking on the stench of sulfur and gunpowder, she braved all the
attendant dangers of being badly burned, cut by shrapnel, or worse.”
Chancellor Lowe among those in overflow audience to hear Rhiannon Carlson; Times photos by John J. Watkins
Transgender
army vet Rhiannon Carlson spoke to an overflow crowd in the IUN Robin Hass
Birky room. A counselor at IU South Bend,
Carlson served as an airborne paratrooper during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and
still looked like she could lick anyone in the audience. After laying out a seven-step process for effecting
change, Carlson exclaimed: “Our
opposition is highly organized, professional, [but] being a social-change agent
is rewarding. There is no high like it.”
She
lamented that Indiana law does not protect the LGBT community and that Hoosier
legislators again failed to pass hate crime legislation. As former IUN professor Anne Balay learned
and Carlson reiterated: “Your boss can
say ‘You’re gay. You’re out.’” Anne’s kid Avi, whom I knew as Leah,
recently defended her master’s thesis.
above, Avi Balay; below, VU podcast class and guest; photo by Liz Wuerffel
At
Valparaiso University, I spoke to Liz Wuerffel’s podcast class about doing oral
history from the bottom up. Tracing my checkered career, I emphasized my
efforts to reach a broad audience rather than just write for academicians. I
showed them copies of Traces that
included my articles on Carlton Hatcher, Tony Zale, and Reverend L.K.
Jackson. They had read my latest Steel Shavings and peppered me with
questions. I loved it. Liz noted that unlike most of her classes,
more than half of the 16 students were from the Calumet Region. Gabrielle “Gabby” McCullough Hanks was an
articulate Gary Horace Mann grad and Carly Newton a Valpo native who
participated in several Popcorn Fest parades with her high school band. Afterwards Liz sent me a group photo she took
along with this note: “Both your talk and the Q&A were wonderful, and I know your
stories about audio interviews gone wrong are good for the students to hear as
they prepare to record their own. Thank you so much for the history and wisdom
you brought to class.”
Ralph Kipness in Michigan City basement
I checked
out an amazing display of Ralph Kipness marionettes at VU’s Brauer Museum. There were likenesses of pop singers like
Michael Jackson and Founding Fathers such as Ben Franklin. According to a companion booklet, marionettes
have 16 moveable parts, and I’d love to observe Michigan City native Kipness
putting on a puppet show. Liz said she
observed the marionettes when they were lying on their side rather than propped
up on strings, and the effect was disquieting.
Dee Van
Bebber and I finished first at the Chesterton bridge game with a score of
65.08%. One hand, Charlie Halberstadt
opened the bidding at 4 Clubs, a preempt, as he had nine Clubs headed by a
King, Queen. Dee doubled, and then
everyone passed. His partner Tom Wade
had ten points but no Clubs. We set the
hand down two vulnerable for 500 points and high board, due to Dee’s double. When I mentioned 91-year-old Tony Bennett
singing strands of “New York, New York” at the Grammys, 86-year-old kindred
spirit Dottie Hart replied that she loved Lady Gaga’s Grammy medley of “Joanne”
and “Million Reasons.” Me, too.
After asking George Sisco for background information on
himself and about memorable bridge experiences, Sidney Hawkins received
this reply in several subsequent emails:
I was born on July 31, 1939 and grew up in Marshall,
Arkansas, located in the southern Ozark Mountains. My father was a funeral director. My mother worked in the 3 funeral homes they
owned and was a substitute teacher.
My only brother also was a funeral director before he retired. In 1961, I graduated from Hendrix College in
Conway, Arkansas with a degree in music.
My instruments were piano and trumpet.
I became a high school band director in Dermott, Arkansas. In 1962, I married fellow teacher Roslyn
Grigsby. We have one child, a daughter who currently serves as Education
Director for the Old State House Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas. In 1969, I switched careers from music to
data processing. I have worked for the
Missouri State Department of Revenue, the Missouri Supreme Court, and as head of data services for four
different hospitals. In 2002, I retired from Porter Memorial in Valparaiso. After several months of retirement, I began a new career as an income
tax preparation specialist. I am now
completely retired as of April of 2016.
I loved all kinds of card games in my youth but did
not learn to play Bridge until college.
I married a bridge player. We
have played all through our marriage and continue to enjoy the game very much. We actually took bridge lessons when we first
moved to Valparaiso for the purpose of learning the most up-to-date bidding
techniques and how to improve playing hands. We prefer
duplicate bridge, but still participate in what is known as party bridge with
friends. It is a very challenging game and sometimes frustrating but never
boring. We play together in three
different monthly bridge clubs. I play with three other gentlemen Mondays and attend
the weekly game at the Banta Center in Valparaiso on a fairly regular
basis. I have never played in a
bridge tournament and really do not care to do so, due to the level and
seriousness of competition. I play
bridge to meet people, have a good time, and enjoy the competition without the
aggressiveness found in tournaments.
I recently
was dealt a hand with 26 points, more than I ever remember getting. I opened with a force bid of 2 clubs. My partner came back with a 2-spade bid. I immediately jumped to Blackwood and asked
for the number of Aces and Kings. It
turned out we had all four Aces and that spades should be our trump suit. We were missing one king, so I set the bid at
6 spades. The hand was actually a
lay-down at 7 spades because the missing King was in the right place to
finesse. Fun, Fun, Fun! Some players might have gambled and gone for
a grand slam of 7 spades, but I did not see this as a viable risk. As it turned out, we got a high board on that
hand. The hand would also have made 7
No-Trump, which would be the highest score possible, but no one even bid 6
No-Trump, which would have topped our score by 10 points. That situation is what makes this game so
challenging and ultimately very enjoyable.
There are so many ways to play a bridge hand, but you have to decide
what is the best bid and then how to play the cards properly.
From
Ed Hollander Emily Linz learned about his personal life and views towards
Bridge. Here is a summary of their interaction:
On September 14, 2017, Ed Hollander and I met
at a Starbucks in Valparaiso for two hours. He was in his words a war baby, born
on December 31, 1942. He explained: “I also have two cousins with birthdays in
December 1942 and one in February of 1943. There were lots of pregnancies as
men went off to World War II in March, April, and May of 1942.” Ed and his wife lived most of their life in
St. Louis but moved to Northwest Indiana to be closer to their three children
and six grandchildren. Ed first began
playing bridge while in college, where a group played after lunch. The social aspect is the main reason Ed enjoys
playing, but he finds bridge to be mentally stimulating as well. His wife used to play but not recently.
Hollander has played at the senior center in Michigan City, as well as the
Banta Center in Valparaiso. Some levels
can be extremely competitive, he stated, especially at tournaments.
Ed Hollander at Banta Center, photo by Emily Linz
On September 27, 2017, I visited the Banta Center
and saw Mr. Hollander play bridge with many others, dispersed at various
tables. Before the game people were
socializing and enjoying refreshments. Observing them bid and play hands
allowed me to ask questions in more depth in subsequent emails. For example, Ed told me that his most vivid bridge
memories are bidding and making “slam bids,” that is, taking 12 of the 13
possible tricks or in rare cases, all 13.
Asked about other group activities, Hollander replied: “I am on the board of our condo homeowners
association, occasionally play chess at a local chess club, and I also
participate in Temple activities.” Regarding
why bridge is so difficult to learn, Ed replied: “Even though the card logic is
similar to other games like Hearts, Spades, or Rummy games, bridge requires
understanding bidding systems and partnership communication.” He regretted that, unlike chess, bridge does
not seem to attract younger players. He went on to say, “I am not sure why. There are lots of scholastic support programs for
teaching chess to grade school kids, but nothing comparable for bridge. I would tell young people it is an enjoyable
social pastime. People often have the impression that bridge is difficult and
requires a lot of study. I would rather people be comfortable and not worry
about winning or making errors.”
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