“Baby baby baby, what's wrong with Uncle Sam?
He's cut down on my sugar, now he's messin' with my ham
I got the ration blues, blue as I can be
Oh me, I've got those ration blues”
I got the ration blues, blue as I can be
Oh me, I've got those ration blues”
Ration Blues,” Louis Jordan
In Nicole Anslover’s World War II class I passed out copies of Steel Shavings, volume 46 in preparation for my appearance next week to discuss the Gary Homefront. I pointed out short sections for them to read beforehand on Pearl Harbor memories, civil rights activist L.K. Jackson, and Gary in 1942 as portrayed in Kendall Svengalis’ novel “The Great Emerson Art Heist.” The Pearl Harbor section makes mention of Vic and Midge, 25 on Pearl Harbor Day, and awaiting my birth some two months later. A fourth selection by IUN student Jessica Nieman about farm girl Jean Schultz Ellis demonstrated that much of Lake and Porter County was rural in those days. Nieman wrote:
The youngest of six, Jean gathered eggs, fed the chickens, and brought in the cows. When Jean was 14, she had her eyebrows done for school picture day, and they swelled up. “My mom was pissed,” she recalled. Jean was first in her family to graduate high school. She said, “At 16 you could stop going. My older sister would buy me clothes to keep me in school. She wanted me to succeed.” She was one of 28 graduates in Chesterton’s class of 1943. Jean had started waitressing at Edward’s Barbecue when just 14. She learned to drive in her mother’s 1934 Ford. A Chesterton movie theater had midweek dime shows, which made for an affordable evening out. Jean also loved roller-skating.
above, Jean Shultz at 14; below, Jessica Nieman with "Pally" and Jean
Next I read several passages to demonstrate the city’s wartime blue collar nature and being home to dozens of ethnic groups, as well as Southern white and black newcomers needed in the mills and defense plants. First I recited Robert Buzecky’s “Steel City, Stone City,” which begins:
Buzecky, Militich, Rodriguez, Kowalak,
Thousands of Somebodies
From all over the planet.
Names make them different
Blue shirts and steel made them family.
I read brief excerpts from student articles by Lori Van Gorp (about Florence Medellin living in the heart of Gary’s red-light district) and Kristin MacPherson, who learned about her Italian grandparents Wilbur and Margaret from her father Donald Rettig. Wilbur worked at a title company, drove a taxi, and kept the books for a bowling league. Margaret worked part-time in the bowling alley kitchen and was famous for a cinnamon streusel coffee cake. Donald told Kristin:
My mom loved Dean Martin and Perry Como. The aroma of food was always in the air, with a pot of spaghetti sauce or soup on the stove. Noodles might be drying over chairs or homemade ravioli scattered over the dining room table. I will never forget my mom wringing a chicken’s neck and nailing it to the garage to clean it. We had the biggest garden in the neighborhood. Everyone helped. Mom canned tomatoes, beans, and beets and made pickles, jellies, and jams. At Easter there’d be a lamb cake, and at Christmas containers of cookies were on each step going upstairs. No one ever left hungry.
My mother’s sisters would come over to play cards. They’d speak Italian and laugh for hours. We’d sneak under the big dining room table in hopes they’d drop some coins. After bedtime we’d peek through the floor grate and watch them.
Wilbur, Margaret and Don Rettig
Since Vee-Jay Records co-founder Vivian Carter was on the cover, I explained that during the war she joined the Quartermaster Corps and was stationed in Washington. D.C., broadening her horizons and discovering musicians that she later recorded. I explained that many black performers in the 1940s had crossover hits and were popular with white audiences, not only jazz greats such as Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington but vocalists such as Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole (my father’s favorite) and harmony groups such the Mills Brothers and Ink Spots that influenced Gary’s own Spaniels, pictured on the back cover. Up-tempo band leaders such as Cab Calloway (who appears in the 1980 “Blues Brothers” film performing “Minnie the Moocher”) and Louis Jordan belted out “jump” music that presaged rock and roll. I had Nicole play YouTube excerpts from “If I Didn’t Care” by the Ink Spots and “Caldonia” by Louis Jordon and the Tympany Five. The latter begins:
Walkin’ with my baby she's got great big feet
She’s long, lean, and lanky and ain’t had nothing to eat
She’s my baby and I love her just the same
Crazy ’bout that woman cause Caldonia is her name
She’s long, lean, and lanky and ain’t had nothing to eat
She’s my baby and I love her just the same
Crazy ’bout that woman cause Caldonia is her name
Next week, I’ll play “Ration Blues” by Louis Jordan, which contains this verse:
They reduced my meat and sugar
And rubber's disappearing fast
You can't ride no more with poppa
'Cause Uncle Sam wants my gas
And rubber's disappearing fast
You can't ride no more with poppa
'Cause Uncle Sam wants my gas
Speaking about the war in the Pacific, Nicole brought up the army’s use of Navaho code talkers (above) to communicate in the field, since almost nobody outside the tribe could speak their unique language. The Japanese could never crack it. After class a student named Heather had the magazine open to a page containing a photo of M to F transgender Dakota Yorke, a 2016 Portage High School homecoming queen finalist. “Dakota’s my best friend,”Heather exclaimed, and showed me that she had sent a photo of the page to Dakota, who texted back that she was really excited and anxious to read what I’d written.
above, Dakota; below, woodcut by Corey Hagelberg
At bridge Dick and Cheryl had noticed a photo of son Corey’s woodcut “We All Share the Same Roots” in the new edition of “Gary: A Pictorial History” and inquired about obtaining it. I offered to trade one for an out-of-print copy of the “Tales of Lake Michigan and the Northwest Indiana Dunelands” Steel Shavings (volume 28, 1998), which they produced three days later. It contains an interview with a former bowling acquaintance whom I nicknamed “Slick Tom” where he talked about picking up girls along the Lake Michigan shoreline in his cabin cruiser. The steelworker bragged:
In the summer I’d trade with everybody to get on straight midnights so I could cruise the beach to see who I could pick up. A good spot was Lake Street. Usually I’d take a friend. By 11 or 12 o’clock, girls would be out sunbathing. You might pick up one, two, three or four girls. It was easy. You just looked to see who was waving their arms. When a girl starts flagging down a boat, it usually sends a signal that they are ready to party. You pulled in, and if they weren’t good-looking, you pulled back away.
Once my cousin and I picked up two pretty-looking girls. We thought they were in their mid-20s. We zoomed out about a mile and a half and started drinking some wine. We were getting out of our bathing suits when I asked one girl how old she was. I found out the two girls were 14 and 15 years old. Needless to say, we got them dressed very quickly and rushed them back to shore.
If we saw a good-looking girl who didn’t wave, we’d get out the inner tube and tie it to the back of the boat. I’d get on it. Then my buddy would race in close towards shore and spin the boat and make the tube go right into the beach. I’d stumble up on shore and say, “Hey, my name’s Tom. We need three people to water ski. Would you like a boat ride and be an observer?” That worked like a champ. Initially, they might say no, they were engaged or married. Once they were on the boat for a few hours, after some persuasion and some drink, the changes in their demeanor were amazing.
“Tales of Lake Michigan” also contains my interview with Region Dunes artist David Sander (1923-1999), who told me:
I was in the navy during World War II. After my discharge, I went back to the University of Chicago on the G.I. Bill. I met and married a classical language student, who was not familiar with the Dunes. One day we drove to have a look at them. It just happened that we parked next to a station wagon that had a Chesterton real estate address. We asked the lady to show us some land. The first place she showed us, we bought, a 40-acre tract in Beverly Shores at the end of a road that had a house, a barn, and a set of batteries because we were too far for city electricity.
The former owner was an old Hungarian farmer. He and his wife lived in a little milk house for several months after we purchased the land. She used to walk to Chesterton and try to sell articles they no longer needed, like a butter churn. She’d be saying things in Hungarian, and people thought she was crazy. Finally their son came and rescued them.
I started painting again. Lake Michigan became part of my nature. Mostly I painted the Dunes. Without people. People-less dunes. I found the less I put into a painting, the more original it was. After all, a painting is a rendering of a subject, not the subject itself. The details are not the subject of a painting. The true artist creates something which is an amalgam, different and presumably greater than either him or his subject.
I vividly recall scores of dunes paintings scattered all over Sander’s home, seemingly discarded, and not having the nerve to ask him for one or two. Not long afterwards, he was dead.
Marcus Brown; photo by Beverly Brown
After winning the first game from 2 L’s and 2 R’s, the Engineers had only one strike in the entire second game and lost by 70 pins, as Marcus Brown bowled in the 240s,well above his average. I had felt a twinge in my upper leg and briefly considered sitting out the finale. Then, after a spare, split and missed 10-pin, I strung six strikes in a row and then converted a a spare, finishing with a 221, my highest score since I started at Hobart Lanes. I got several fist bumps from bowlers nearby. The Engineers picked up an amazing 17 strikes in that one game to win handily and garner 5 of 7 points. I edged Joe Piunti, who won game one for us, for most pins over average by a mere 2 pins for the four-dollar pot. Afterwards, I asked Dorothy Peterson and Gene Clifford how they liked “Shrek: The Musical” Sunday. They enjoyed it, but a woman near them with a young girl was complaining about hearing three curse words. That was news to me. They must have been pretty inoffensive. Gene and Dorothy have tickets for “Million Dollar Quarter” at the Munster Theater.
Dorothy Peterson
Zion Williamson on ground
Nike stock fell more than 1% after Duke star Zion Williamson’s sneaker imploded 33 seconds into a game with North Carolina and he injured a knee. Nike had signed a lucrative deal with the university that mandated players wear their brand even though they received nothing but free sneakers while Coach K’s annual salary rose to in the neighborhood of 10 million dollars. What a farce.
