No gaming Sunday but got in six games the day before. I won Acquire (barely) and Amun Re (in a rout). From noon to three I worked the IU Northwest booth with Stela Pudar-Hozo at the Porter County Fair. We chatted with interested passersby and handed out literature, plus all kinds of stuff containing the university logo, including balloons, jar openers, envelope openers, computer screen cleaners, fans, pencils, Frisbees (they went fast), and things that we guessed was intended to be used as business card or cell phone holders. Born in the former Yugoslavia, Stela told me that her grandfather was in the Russian army during World War I and would have been killed by the Nazis during WW II had villagers not saved his life. I ran into five people I knew, including Cressmoor Lanes owner Jim Fowble and his wife, Robin Halberstadt (whose house we had been to Friday for a cookout), State representative Ed Charbonneau (the Republican Party booth was up from ours), and Sue Darnell, who once worked for the IU Northwest Credit Union and threw nice parties. I knew three of her boyfriends. I promised two guys wearing Vietnam Veteran caps, Mike Garza and David Guernsy, that I’d send them “Brothers in Arms.” Hungry, during a break in the action I secured free samples of fudge, mixed nuts, malted milk balls and Culligan water. I walked around after my shift and bought a hot dog, but it was too hot to venture into the exhibit halls where the animals were. Years ago, my kids and nieces Alanna and Cristin loved to watch the pig races. You could “bet” on one of them (it didn’t cost money) and win a prize if your pig finished first. I called Cristin to wish her happy thirty-second birthday, told her I had been at the fair, and the first thing she said was, “Did you go to the pig races?” Sadly they are no longer there. She and Alanna have such good memories of summers with us at the house on Maple Place.
Vice Chancellor David Malik asked about 20 other interested faculty to discuss ways in which IU Northwest could be more involved in interacting with the Gary community and how we could better inform community residents about existing programs. Conducting the meeting was an African-American consultant that the university has hired named Jeff Johnson, who is a correspondent for BET (Black Entertainment Television) and hosted “Rap City.” With long dreadlocks, lean body and handsome face, he reminded me of SPEA lecturer (and friend) Jackie Gipson. After mentioning the Archives, I talked about how the academic corridor idea along Thirty-Fifth should be resurrected and community outreach things Garret Cope has done, including Senior College and the Glen Park conversation. Once after my Gary book came out, Garrett had me on a program with tattoo artist Roy Boy, who was so interesting that there was hardly any time left for me. Roy Boy died recently, and the obit mentioned that he was world famous and celebrities such as Greg Allman and Cher would come to Glen Park for tattoos. I hope Jeff Johnson gets a chance to talk with former Mayor Richard G. Hatcher, who still teaches at IU Northwest and is a priceless community resource. Also at the meeting were kindred spirits Chuck Gallmeier, DeeDee Ige, and Rick Hug. When I said that the biggest disappointment about the university in my 40 years here is that it has remained an island without any nearby restaurants, shops or dorms, Rick jumped in to say it was his, too. Several of us, including Malik, continued the dialogue at lunch. Medical school director Patrick Bangston passed by and kidded the Vice Chancellor about not being invited to the meeting. Bankston told me he was enjoying Ken Schoon’s “Calumet Beginnings” but found the type awfully small. I sent him my Gary book, which has a large font.
For my review of “He Crashed Me So I Crashed Him Back” I needed the author’s year of birth. I located Mark Bechtel’s email address through the Sports Illustrated website and got an answer from the author himself within 20 minutes. I told Jim Tolhuizen, a racing fan, that I was reviewing Bechtel’s book, and he knew the details of most of the key events of the 1979 season. I also traded emails with Stela about the fair. “Same time next year?” I asked. “Sure,” she replied.
NFL training camp begins in a few days, and Sports Illustrated had an article entitled “Cutler’s Last Stand,” a take-off, of course on General George Armstrong Custer’s Last Stand. The Bears hired offensive coach Mike Martz to work with their prize quarterback, but there is the feeling that if Chicago misses the playoffs, Coach Lovie Smith will be fired. The best article dealt with a fan’s long crusade, ultimately successful, to get former Denver Broncos running back Floyd Little into the Hall of Fame. Just inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame was Andre Dawson, one of my favorite Cubs, who hit 49 homeruns in 1987, his first of six years in Chicago. In his speech he thanked the Wrigley Field fans for making the games so enjoyable. The cover story in the latest Rolling Stone magazine is on Leonardo DiCaprio. It mentioned (I had forgotten if I ever knew) that he played young Tobias in one of my favorite movies, “This Boy’s Life” starring Robert DeNiro (in it his character Dwight uses the expression “Shut your pie hole”). Ellen barkin plays DiCaprio’s mom, and when the principal tells her that her son wrote obscene words on school property, she asks which ones. When the guy says, “Fuck You,” she replies, “That’s just one obscene word.”
TRACES editor Ray Boomhower sent a copy of my article on Vivian Carter and Vee Jay records to proofread. Most of the corrections (there weren’t many) were my fault. Twice I mentioned YJean Chambers, a teacher at Gary Roosevelt who was a friend of Vivian and knew the Spaniels, whose song “Goodnite Sweetheart” helped launch America’s first black-owned record label. Like many Fifties rhythm and blues songs, a cover version with the slight title change to “Goodnite Sweetheart, Goodnite” outsold the original. James “Pookie” Hudson, the Spaniel who wrote the song, got no royalties. Vee Jay also had hits by the Dells, Dee Clark, Gene Chandler (the immortal “Duke of Earl”), the Staple Singers, and even the Four Seasons. Thinking YJean was a typo, the press changed it to just Jean. In my article I quoted several times from Henry Farag’s autobiography “The Signal” (Steel Shavings, volume 32). Henry was turned on to doo wop music listening to Carter’s radio show “Livin’ with Vivian” and went on to become a leading producer of Oldies shows.
On The SCORE the morning sports jock talked about a friend from Italy whose only words of English were: “Magic Johnson Coast to Coast.” Whenever something excited him, that’s what he’d say. Pretty soon the radio jock and his friends adopted the saying as well, whenever they were excited. Pretty funny. A few days ago there was a mild earthquake in the Washington, D.C., area. Steve Pickert sent a humorous email showing the damage – an outdoor set of table and chairs with one chair on its side. I forwarded it to Terry Jenkins, along with comments about the surging Phillies and received this reply: “I had the "privilege" of going to the game yesterday which was rain delayed. The guy that took me is a cheap bastard, and we parked about a mile away for free. We left at the rain delay while it was light, but ended up getting soaked by the time we reached the car. But they won!!!!”
Information having to do with the history of Northwest Indiana and the research and doings in the service of Clio, the muse of history, of IU Northwest emeritus professor of History James B. Lane
Showing posts with label Cristin Donahue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cristin Donahue. Show all posts
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Pep Rally & Autograph Party (2)
The Pep Rally and Autograph Party for volume 40 Tuesday was a success. The band Jimbo’s Jammers, consisting of son Dave, former student Bruce Sawochka, and original Voodoo Chili drummer John, was great, starting with acoustic numbers and then rocking out and climaxing with Neil Young's "Rockin' in the Free World." The band also did the Neil Young song about Johnny Rotten, "Hey Hey My My (Out of the Blue)," which contains the line, "it's better to burn out than to fade away." Dave invited me and favorite student Shannon Pontney up to sing the chorus to "Sympathy for the Devil" – first “woo, who,” then “ooo, who,” and finally “ooo, who, who, oh, yeah.” I also, as usual, helped with the chorus to "Surrender" - "Mommy's alright, Daddy's alright, they just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender but don't give yourself away." (sat in sixth row to see Cheap Trick at the Star Plaza with niece Cristin; the drummer in the punky warm-up band threw a broken drum stick that sailed right by her; could have taken her eye out). Among the former students who came to the Autograph Party were Dave Serynek, Fred McColly, Sherril Tokarski, Thomas Hazlett, Mary Lee, Don Young (who took many photographs), and Marshall Lines. Marshall’s girlfriend Erica was puzzled that in volume 40 I referred to her tattoos (I rasn into them while working the Porter County Fair). She said she only had one and that it wasn’t visible; it must be near her breast or above her butt because I wouldn’t have made that up. Or would I?
Todd Cliborne arrived accompanied by his daughter Baylee. In an article called “Lifeless Angel in Sandals” that appeared in my 2000 issue Todd wrote about thinking of his three year-old daughter as he viewed the body of a young drowning victim and calling her after leaving the hospital to tell her how much he loved her. That was nine years ago, and I could tell from their body language how close they still are.
I danced with the Redhawk cheerleaders (who also performed) and numerous others, including Marianne and Missy Brush (Big Voodoo Daddy’s daughter, who also did a number with the band), John’s wife Lorraine, wife Toni, daughter-in-law Angie, Shannon, and Communication professor Lori Montalbano (much to her young daughter’s displeasure), and an African-American guy named David who basically danced the entire time. Jon, Jerry, Chris, and Jean from our department lent their moral support as well, as did Chuck Gallmeier and emeritus prof Ron and wife Nancy (who’s halfway though and said she’s learning more about me than she wanted to or words to that effect) and best friend Clark Metz. Trish and Ray Arredondo were pleased to find their names in the volume several times in connection with the book we worked on together, “Maria’s Journey.”
I got a lot of help from IU Northwest History Club members Heather, Brandy, and Sabrina, who signed up new members. Heather Hollister is a campus cadet and goes out with former student Josh Gonzales, who wrote an article for my Eighties Steel Shavings (he is one of eight Gonzales’s in the master index, plus seven Gonzalez’s with a “z” at the end). Scott Fulk from Student Life provided free popcorn, Ann Fritz kept the Gallery open (a haven for those who wanted to talk while the band was playing), where punch and cookies were on hand, and Donna DeGradi kept the bookstore open and reported that they sold a bunch of books. Some of the fans who had come for the basketball game were pleased at the entertainment, including two middle aged guys from Grace Collage (the Lady Redhawks’ opponents). After leading by ten at halftime the Lady Redhawks lost to the "Lady Lancers" in overtime.
In a reference to my “Wacky Mode” comments about Padgett Powell Gaard Logan wrote: “I think breaking a reader’s heart is a worthy goal for a novelist. I’m reading a little something called "Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet." It centers around the Panama Hotel in Seattle’s international district. The hotel was closed for 40-plus years following WWII, I’m guessing because all the Japanese were carted off to detention centers and so it could not longer make a profit. When it was purchased and reopened in the 80s, the new owners found the basement full of personal belongings left behind by the community. It talks about what the residents tried to do to save themselves from arrest, including burning anything that linked them to ‘old’ Japan – kimonos including wedding kimonos, photos of their parents and grandparents taken in Japan, artwork that today would be worth fortunes but meant ‘Japanese sympathizers’ to the authorities. I’m only at page 75, and my heart has already been broken. Twice.”
I recall watching the Johnny Carson Show many years ago when a Japanese-American actress said she was born in Arizona and Johhny expressed surprise, not realizing she had been in an internment camp. Initially families in the camps had virtually no privacy and had to keep lights on all night as soldiers could peer inside to make sure no subversive activity was taking place.
Wednesday was a busy day. I interviewed Charlotte Reed for the FACET project. She was very moving talking about her passion for teaching and very complimentary toward my son Dave, who was a student of hers in the Urban Teacher Education Program. They have kept in touch since he started teaching at East Chicago Central High School 15 years ago. In the afternoon I did my first steelworker interview for Anne Balay's project, which lasted two hours. At bowling I rolled a 512 and the Electrical Engineers won five points out of seven. One opponent looked just like Tommy Lee when he was in his blond-hair mode. At an O'Hare Airport bar Toni and I sat right next to him and he was charming to us and the young women seeking to say hey and maybe get his autograph.
Todd Cliborne arrived accompanied by his daughter Baylee. In an article called “Lifeless Angel in Sandals” that appeared in my 2000 issue Todd wrote about thinking of his three year-old daughter as he viewed the body of a young drowning victim and calling her after leaving the hospital to tell her how much he loved her. That was nine years ago, and I could tell from their body language how close they still are.
I danced with the Redhawk cheerleaders (who also performed) and numerous others, including Marianne and Missy Brush (Big Voodoo Daddy’s daughter, who also did a number with the band), John’s wife Lorraine, wife Toni, daughter-in-law Angie, Shannon, and Communication professor Lori Montalbano (much to her young daughter’s displeasure), and an African-American guy named David who basically danced the entire time. Jon, Jerry, Chris, and Jean from our department lent their moral support as well, as did Chuck Gallmeier and emeritus prof Ron and wife Nancy (who’s halfway though and said she’s learning more about me than she wanted to or words to that effect) and best friend Clark Metz. Trish and Ray Arredondo were pleased to find their names in the volume several times in connection with the book we worked on together, “Maria’s Journey.”
I got a lot of help from IU Northwest History Club members Heather, Brandy, and Sabrina, who signed up new members. Heather Hollister is a campus cadet and goes out with former student Josh Gonzales, who wrote an article for my Eighties Steel Shavings (he is one of eight Gonzales’s in the master index, plus seven Gonzalez’s with a “z” at the end). Scott Fulk from Student Life provided free popcorn, Ann Fritz kept the Gallery open (a haven for those who wanted to talk while the band was playing), where punch and cookies were on hand, and Donna DeGradi kept the bookstore open and reported that they sold a bunch of books. Some of the fans who had come for the basketball game were pleased at the entertainment, including two middle aged guys from Grace Collage (the Lady Redhawks’ opponents). After leading by ten at halftime the Lady Redhawks lost to the "Lady Lancers" in overtime.
In a reference to my “Wacky Mode” comments about Padgett Powell Gaard Logan wrote: “I think breaking a reader’s heart is a worthy goal for a novelist. I’m reading a little something called "Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet." It centers around the Panama Hotel in Seattle’s international district. The hotel was closed for 40-plus years following WWII, I’m guessing because all the Japanese were carted off to detention centers and so it could not longer make a profit. When it was purchased and reopened in the 80s, the new owners found the basement full of personal belongings left behind by the community. It talks about what the residents tried to do to save themselves from arrest, including burning anything that linked them to ‘old’ Japan – kimonos including wedding kimonos, photos of their parents and grandparents taken in Japan, artwork that today would be worth fortunes but meant ‘Japanese sympathizers’ to the authorities. I’m only at page 75, and my heart has already been broken. Twice.”
I recall watching the Johnny Carson Show many years ago when a Japanese-American actress said she was born in Arizona and Johhny expressed surprise, not realizing she had been in an internment camp. Initially families in the camps had virtually no privacy and had to keep lights on all night as soldiers could peer inside to make sure no subversive activity was taking place.
Wednesday was a busy day. I interviewed Charlotte Reed for the FACET project. She was very moving talking about her passion for teaching and very complimentary toward my son Dave, who was a student of hers in the Urban Teacher Education Program. They have kept in touch since he started teaching at East Chicago Central High School 15 years ago. In the afternoon I did my first steelworker interview for Anne Balay's project, which lasted two hours. At bowling I rolled a 512 and the Electrical Engineers won five points out of seven. One opponent looked just like Tommy Lee when he was in his blond-hair mode. At an O'Hare Airport bar Toni and I sat right next to him and he was charming to us and the young women seeking to say hey and maybe get his autograph.
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