Nostalgia

“You don’t know where you’re going

Who says when you arrive

Some people will destroy you

In order to survive”

         Robyn Hitchcock, “Time Coast”

I can see why Robert Baszkiewicz called “Time Coast” by 64-year-old Englishman Robyn Hitchcock his favorite song of 2017.  The chorus goes, “I made it to the Time Coast, I made it just in time.”  In the Eighties Hitchcock found success with his band the Egyptians, and he’s been recording ever since, albeit, under the radar for the most part.  Robert also highly recommended the Replacements’ “For Sale: Live at Maxwell’s 1986,” which he called a nostalgia romp.  In a recent email Ray Smock compared nostalgia to a fine bourbon, a good thing so long as you don’t drink too much.  He was responding to my comments upon hearing that David Goldfield had cited our grad school days at Maryland on the acknowledgements page of his new book, “The Gifted Generation: When Government Was Good.” Goldfield wrote:

I have been fortunate through the years to have a group of wonderful friends who are not afraid to tell me what they think of me and my work at any given time. They have kept me grounded, but have also elevated me.  Although I attended the University of Maryland a while ago—my son tells me Lord Baltimore was governor at the time—my close friendship with Pete Daniel, Jimbo Lane, and Ray Smock has never wavered.

My sentiments exactly.  Reading “The Gifted Generation,” Smock said, “David was always a fine historian but over the years has become an excellent story teller, too.”  Conservative columnist George Will wrote about Goldfield’s book in the Washington Post, labeling him a “cheerful liberal” overly nostalgic about the postwar years. On the other hand, George Will is overly nostalgic about the Ronald Reagan presidency.

I frequently wax nostalgia about my Maryland days between 1966 and 1970.  Phil and Dave came into this world, and I not only made lasting friendships but it was my good fortune to have progressive historian Horace Samuel “Sam” Merrill as my PhD adviser.  I was best man at David Goldfield’s wedding on Long Island and still recall the seafood feast at East Hampton near Montauk Point.  David met my son Dave on a bus taking us from a history conference in Washington, DC, to College Park for the dedication of the Samuel Merrill seminar room. I attended a talk Goldfield delivered at an Urban History roundtable in Chicago, and in his opening remarks noted that the two of us were teammates on the Wobblies, our grad school softball team.

Three weeks ago, the Electrical Engineers were tied for first place.  Since then, we’ve gone 4-17 and are back in the middle of the pack.  Ironically, I’ve had my two best series, 506 and 514, winning our team’s 4-dollar pot for most pins above average and causing Dick Maloney to remark, “If you keep this up, I’ll have to report you to the IRS.”

The hyperbolic subtitle of Robert W. Merry’s “President McKinley: Architect of the American Century” indicates the author’s attempt to elevate the amiable Ohioan to the ranks of near-great chief executives, making the inflated claim that he was a transformative leader and America’s first modern president. The Civil War veteran was an able administrator, crafty politician, and willing agent of big business, who presided over the dubious acquisition of an overseas empire that proved more an albatross than steppingstone to foreign markets.  McKinley came to regret his most important decision, choosing Teddy Roosevelt as his 1900 running mate, who, after an assassin’s bullet elevated him to power, ushered in the Progressive Movement on a national level.

Richard Gordon Hatcher in 1963 and 2016

I completed volume 47 of Steel Shavings, which consists of blog entries for 2017 and features octogenarian Richard Hatcher on the cover, looking battle-scarred but unbroken after more than a half-century of political combat.  On the back cover: a photo of Hatcher at age 29, running successfully for Gary councilman-at-large.

Doug Ross of the NWI Times wrote about the Gary schools under William A. Wirt, superintendent from 1907 until his death in 1938.  Ron Cohen told Ross: “He was the boss. Nobody questioned him until the 1930s, when the Democrats came into power.  He was a tyrant, very conservative and very religious.”  Wirt’s educational philosophy of learning through doing included such activities as public speaking, animal care, and using tools to repair shoes and make furniture. Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy, a Gary Roosevelt grad, told Ross that at the time, he didn’t realize that his city's schools were admired all over the world and much different from most educational facilities.

above, Miller sunset; photo by Jim Spicer; below, Ronald Cohen, NWI Times photo by Doug Ross

I stopped off to see Cohen after dropping off Shavings issues at Robin Rich’s house in Miller for next week’s silent auction at Temple Israel during Trivia Night. Ron loaned me Glenn Frankel’s “High Noon: The Hollywood Blacklist and the Making of an American Classic.” A parable about courage in the face of overwhelming odds, “High Noon” (1952) was also an allegory about the Red Scare repression of dissenters.  Frankel employs this quote from The Sopronos where Tony tells his shrink: “Whatever happened to Gary Cooper?  The strong silent type?  That was an American.  He wasn’t in touch with his feelings.  He just did what he had to do.”  During the 1920s, Montanan Frank Cooper was trying to break into the movie industry.  Nan Collins, casting director for United Studios, who doubled as his agent, told him there were already two actors with his exact name and convinced him to substitute the name of her hometown, Gary, Indiana.

Our neighbor Joan Gucciardo, 89 (above), passed away.  A 1944 Gary Tolleston graduate, she enjoyed a 44-year career as a Gary elementary school teacher and librarian, most of the time at Nobel School in Miller.  Her husband Frank was a Gary police officer.  The obit stated that Joan “loved gardening, crossword puzzles, and her fuzzy (feline) companion Razzle Dazzle.

The Sandpipers, Chesterton’s show choir, competed against 32 other high schools and finished fourth runner-up.  Becka, unbelievably, won the solo competition, singing “Fly, Fly Away” from the musical “Catch Me If You Can,” a 2002 film and subsequent stage production that opened on Broadway nine years later.  The song is about a person scorned by society who taught the singer how to feel.

 Dr, J, my all-time favorite basketball player

After the Philadelphia Eagles fell behind Minnesota 7-0, they scored 38 consecutive points and are on their way to the Superbowl.  My shouts of joy rang through the house as Patrick Robinson intercepted a pass and rumbled 50 yards for a “pick-six” touchdown.  At the game were celebrities Charles Barkley, Mike Trout, and Bradley Cooper.  Memories came flooding back of past Philadelphia championships: of Eagles Norm Van Brocklin and Chuck Bednarik in 1960, Flyers Bobby Clarke and Bernie Parent in 1974, Phillies Tug McGraw and Pete Rose in 1980, 76ers Moses Malone and Julius “Dr. J” Erving in 1983, and Phillies Ryan Howard and Chase Utley in 2008.  I recall exactly where I was during those triumphs.

 Tom Petty

The Los Angeles medical examiner has ruled singer Tom Petty’s death the result of an accidental overdose of numerous medications, including Fentanyl and generic Xanax, Restoril, and Celexa.  Petty’s family hoped that the death would lead to necessary action on the nation’s opioid crisis.

Taylor Beckman and Emily Res benefitted from talking about bridge with John and Karen Fieldhouse and playing several hands with Taylor’s grandparents. They wrote:

Assigned to interview John and Karen Fieldhouse, we decided to first ask them about their lives and then hopefully observe them at a bridge tournament.  Meanwhile, we created a cheat sheet of sorts for us to carry with us concerning basic bridge bidding rules.  After establishing contact with the Fieldhouses, we made plans to get together at the Bakers Square in Merrillville off of U.S. 30 to get to know one another.  And just like that, we were off to Bakers Square for our first meeting with the Fieldhouses.

We met with them, ordered some pie, and learned that John and Karen were actually high school sweethearts but then went to different colleges, John in Indianapolis, Karen in Michigan, and ended up marrying other people. After many years, they both divorced and John decided to reconnect with Karen. They wrote to each other for some time and then started dating long distance. Eventually, Karen moved back to Indiana, and they were married 18 years ago.  In high school John had an inspirational chemistry teacher and that, along with an interest in Sputnik, motivated him to seek a career in that field. He received a Ph.D. and is currently an industrial chemist, doing research in chemical plants trying to create new products. He has several patents for products he has created.  Karen was an Elementary Education major and eventually became a teacher in Grand Rapids, Michigan. While working, she received her Master’s in Reading and Language Arts. She expressed her regret in not ever learning Spanish, as many of her students spoke the language and had to translate for other students. She also worked with students with dyslexia and says that teaching was an amazing experience. When she and John married, she obtained an Indiana teaching license.

John had played bridge since college and believes that it is important to have a hobby, which is why he continues to play today. He also loves the challenge and the math aspect that comes with bridge. Karen plays because John plays and had not played before marrying John. At first, she found it extremely demanding, but she had John to help her and she also took a bridge playing class. They both play as partners in Chesterton and Valparaiso. They also have a home in Naples, Florida where they play bridge together as well.   Karen loves the fact that each hand is a surprise; John added that you will never get the same hand twice. They also love how social bridge can be, especially now that they are both older. While the game can be tricky and exacting, they also find it fun.  They even partake in a “Sunday Social Bridge Club.”  Overall, it was a great first meeting.

  A few days later, we emailed a few questions to John and Karen and received this reply from John “We moved to Valparaiso because of the cooler, less humid weather in the summer and our families, which are nearby I Valparaiso or in Michigan and Ohio.  Karen and I travel in Florida some to play in tournaments.  We have played in maybe 6-8 different places, but mostly in the Naples and Bonita Springs area.  I think Karen has about 75-100 points and I have about 475 points.”

above, Taylor and Emily with Fieldhouses; below, with Les and Betty Beckman

  Because we never had the chance to observe John and Karen play bridge, we decided to get together my (Taylor’s) grandparents, Les and Betty Beckman, who promised to give us some practical experience. They both grew up in South Chicago and went to the same high school but did not know each other. They both worked for U.S. Steel in Chicago but on different floors. They met on the commuter train on the way to work, dated briefly, and were married a few months later. They lived in Riverdale for 32 years and moved to Crown Point when Les had started working in Gary. He was a salesman for U.S. Steel selling plates of steel until he retired after more than 30 years. Betty stopped working at U.S. Steel after she had her first child and worked odd jobs such as a crossing guard and in retail. Both retired, they enjoy gardening and hanging out with grandchildren. Les spends some Saturdays volunteering at a train museum.

We played a few rounds of bridge with Les and Betty, and they showed us how to bid and play.  Taylor was partnered with Les while Emily was partnered with Betty. We each won two rounds and ended our games with a tie. We then enjoyed homemade pizza and apple dessert. Overall, it was a very fun meeting and Taylor got to learn about things she never knew about her grandparents.

 Viktoria Voller, photo by Airel Otero

In Steve McShane’s Fall class Airel Otero interviewed Viktoria Voller, an A+ student of mine four decades ago, about her bridge experiences. Voller has served as President of IU’s Alumni Association and head of the Gala Committee, so I plan to videotape her for the university’s bicentennial oral history project.  This is what Otero wrote:

    Starting out this assignment, I learned that Bridge is played with four people using a standard deck of 52 cards (no jokers). The couples sitting across from each other are partners. Each hand consists of three parts: the auction, where the players bid in a clockwise rotation describing their hands, indicating a number and a suit; the play, where the person who wins the bid (the declarer) tries to take the tricks necessary to fulfill the contract. The person to the left of the declarer makes the opening lead, and the declarer’s partner becomes the “dummy,” place his hand face up on the table and becoming an observer while the “declarer” plays cards from both their hands; the scoring, which I do not understand well enough to explain.

    On October 3, 2017, Viktoria Voller and I made contact. She had been playing bridge since college, first at the University of California and then at the University of North Dakota. She joked “I started then but haven’t seemed to have gotten any better.” She invited me to meet her at the Innsbrook Country Club in Merrillville at 1:30, when she’d be playing bridge with three friends.   When I got to Innsbrook, formerly the Gary Country Club, I had absolute no idea where I was going. There were like six different buildings. I asked a worker outside where to go, and he said his best guess was a building he pointed to, so I just went in that one, and an employee took me right to the bridge game.  Viktoria seemed happy to see me and her companions kept on telling me that I looked like one of their granddaughters. They were all so cute and it was cool seeing them play their game!

above, Helen, Barbara, Donna, and Airel 

    Viktoria told me that they’d play 24 hands, switching partners after eight hands, so they’d end up partnering with all three others. She tried to explain what happened after every hand and made sure I could see what was going on.   The group meets the last Thursday of each month and has been playing together for almost five years. They formerly met at each other’s homes, but Innsbrook has more room and serves good food.  They each pay a small sum so the winners get a little reward and there’s also a booby prize.

  Viktoria believes one needs a sense of humor when playing the game and if you take things too seriously, bridge is not for you.  She said, “Some bridge players are there for the kill, and some are there for the fun. I am there for the fun.” She told me that she came from a card playing family and that she been playing cards since she was little!

  Helen, Viktoria’s first partner, also grew up in a card playing family. She learned bridge when taking a night class in Miller. Donna’s father played cards and she learned bridge in college. Her husband was super good at bridge and taught her some finer points. Barbara’s mother played cards, and she learned when she taught in Merrillville. Unlike the others, she winters in Florida and plays bridge there.

 All four women were in their 60’s and lamented that, as Viktoria told me, “mostly old people play bridge.” I think it would probably be a fun game, but it takes a really hard effort to even try and learn it in the first place.  When asked why they still play today, they mentioned the social connection with spouses and friends, to meet new people, and to keep their brains active.  Viktoria also plays duplicate bridge at several locations.

  On November 29, I emailed Viktoria and asked if she had won any interesting bridge stories. She responded: “Bridge is about winning and losing, some days are better than others. It is a rule in bridge to lead back what your partner bid or first led. The contract against us was three no trump. I bid spades and had seven spade tricks in my hand. My partner led a diamond; I never played with her again.” She may have been pulling my leg or maybe she’s more competitive than she let on.  I asked her the meaning of the saying, “Love is a four-legged word” that was at the bottom of her emails. She said it refers to the unconditional love that animals give us.